Woodstrokes by Brodie Neill

For London Craft Week 2025, designer Brodie Neill unveiled ‘Woodstrokes’ – a sculptural furniture collection that transforms salvaged timber into fluid, brushstroke-like forms. Presented alongside Armadillo rugs and ceramics by our co-founder Jodie Fried, the exhibition explores the quiet persistence of craft and the exceptionalbeauty of material reuse. In this conversation, Neill reflects on movement, memory and the intelligence embedded in the act of making.

Photography by Mark Cocksedge & Angela Moore

Tell us about the inspiration behind Woodstrokes. What drew you to working with salvaged timber offcuts?

Woodstrokes continues my long-standing exploration of salvaged and reclaimed materials, from wood and metal to ocean plastics. The idea began during a visit to a veneer mill in Northeast London, where I was confronted by the sheer scale of discarded timber. Beautiful woods from around the world, piled high and forgotten.

Through trial and experimentation, I discovered a way to reassemble the fragments with the energy and rhythm of abstract expressionism. Transforming waste into expressive, functional forms. That’s where this approach began, not just working with wood, but working like a painter, reimagining it piece by piece.


Your work often blurs the boundaries between sculpture and furniture. How do you approach that intersection in Woodstrokes?

Once the language of the process had formed, I started translating it across different typologies: mirrors, freeform tables, bookcases. Each one became a sculptural statement, assembled through a slow, intuitive layering of material. There’s no blueprint, just an evolving form that grows out of rhythm and accumulation.

It continues my interest in sculptural furniture. These are functional objects, but they carry the physicality and presence of artworks. The form always emerges from the making.

The pieces evoke a sense of motion, almost like calligraphy in wood. What does ‘movement’ mean to you in the context of this collection?

Movement is fundamental to Woodstrokes. Each sliver of salvaged timber is placed like a brushstroke, following a visual rhythm. There’s a flow and continuity to the process, almost meditative. Layers build gradually, creating surfaces that feel as though they’re in motion.

That sense of fluidity has always been part of my practice, but here it becomes structural. It’s not just visual, it’s part of how the pieces are constructed.


You mention “material intelligence” as part of your process. How do you interpret that term, and how does it shape your relationship with the timber you use?

Material intelligence is a hands-on understanding, an ability to read how a material behaves, what it allows, and how it responds over time. Woodstrokes began with instinct and curiosity but developed into something else.I had to learn how to work with the inconsistencies and quirks of each offcut, rather than against them.

The wood’s porous capillaries absorb a 100% bio-resin, developed in collaboration with Australian company Change Climate, which fuses the fragments into a cohesive whole. This process is not just technical, it was relational in that the more you listen to the material, the more it reveals.

"These are functional objects, but they carry the presence of artworks.”

There’s a strong narrative of sustainability in Woodstrokes with the reclaimed timber used. How do you see your practice contributing to the evolving conversation around responsible design?

I have always been interested in challenging our perception of waste. With Woodstrokes, I wanted to demonstrate how discarded materials could be reframed as something refined, resonant and enduring.

The work speaks to circularity, not in theory but in practice. By keeping materials in circulation, we reveal new aesthetics and new stories. It’s about shifting the emphasis from scarcity to potential and showing that sustainability isn’t a limit, it’s a creative prompt.


Each piece is handcrafted in London. What role does locality play in your making process—and how does the London design community influence your work?

Every piece in the series was made here in London, supported by a close network of local collaborators. That proximity matters. It allows for immediacy, for close feedback loops, for shared experimentation.

London is an extraordinary city for ideas and making. It has the creative density and infrastructure to support ambitious work, especially the kind that doesn’t fit easily into categories. I feel lucky to be part of a community that embraces bold thinking and practical craft in equal measure.

At London Craft Week, you’re exhibiting alongside Armadillo rugs and ceramics by Jodie Fried. How did this collaboration come about, and what does it mean to you to share this space with kindred makers?

I’ve always admired Armadillo’s thoughtful approach to materials and making, but it wasn’t until our children met at summer camp that the connection became personal. From there, Jodie, my wife Fleur and I would have spirited conversations, exchanging ideas about creative practice and how our values shape the way we work.

When we began planning the scenography for this show, it was clear the table needed something to anchor it - to hold the space with warmth and weight. That’s when the Agra rug in Ginger came in. Its earthy tones resonated beautifully with every wood tone in the table. It just clicked!

Jodie’s ceramics brought another dimension entirely. Her glazes and forms have this tactile, hand-thrown presence that complements the materiality of Woodstrokes so naturally. None of it was overly planned. It came together through trust, shared values, and a few happy coincidences – like summer camp.


Texture and tactility are central to both your furniture and the woven and ceramic pieces on display. How do you think these materials speak to each other within the exhibition?

There’s a tactile conversation happening across the pieces. Woodstrokes came out of a kind of material listening, responding to the grain, the tension, the direction of each offcut. It was never about control. It was about working with the material, not on top of it.

Jodie’s ceramics reflect that same openness. You never know exactly how a glaze will behave in the kiln. There’s unpredictability, but also trust. That’s echoed in the way the Woodstrokes surfaces shift once sanded and cured. The character of each timber comes through differently every time. That shared spontaneity is what binds the exhibition.


In a digital age, Woodstrokes celebrates the quiet persistence of craft. What does “craft” mean to you today?

For too long, craft has lingered in the shadows of design, but we’re now witnessing a much-needed resurgence. Audiences today are curious, they want to know how things are made, who made them, and why. That’s heartening.

While I may not “craft” in the traditional sense, my work is deeply process-driven and rooted in making. Woodstrokes is only possible through that persistent engagement with technique and material. It’s a celebration of hands-on dedication in an increasingly automated world.

Whether it’s bronze, plastic or timber, there’s always a moment where you stop instructing and start responding. That’s the real essence of craft; attention, thought, presence, and (enduring) persistence.

Much of your work reflects on memory – both personal and material. Is there a particular memory or moment that helped shape this body of work?

Creativity is cumulative. Every project carries traces of what came before, successes, mistakes, discoveries. Woodstrokes is a result of that build-up. It’s not a sudden idea. It’s something that emerged through years of process and material exploration.

There’s memory embedded in the timber itself too, its previous life, its origin. I’m just adding another layer to that history.


The process behind Woodstrokes is meticulous and layered. Could you walk us through how one of these pieces comes to life – from offcut to final form?

It starts with a pallet of veneer offcuts, about a cubic meter from a local mill arriving at the studio. We sort them by species, length and character. Long pieces go to larger works, like the Woodstrokes Bookcase or Console. Smaller ones are reserved for mirrors. Nothing is wasted. Even the tiniest fragments have been set aside for a future series.

Each piece is built inside a bespoke mould, with veneers arranged in flowing compositions that develops organically as it takes shape. Once packed, we infuse the forms with the bio-resin. Once cured, they’redemoulded, CNC-trimmed and hand-finished. The resin also forms the final surface coat, adding a subtle richness and depth.

It’s meticulous but rewarding, there’s no shortcut and every stage matters.


Finally, what do you hope visitors take away from experiencing Woodstrokes during London Craft Week?

Woodstrokesis an invitation to slow down and look closer. To see value not only in the polished result, but in what’s often overlooked. Each piece is a reminder that beauty exists in the offcut, the remnant, and the discarded.

It’s not just about timber. It’s about material awareness. If this work encourages someone to reconsider what they use or what they throw away, then it’s done its job. Because in the end, Woodstrokesisn’tjust about reclaiming wood. It’s about reclaiming attention.