A day in the Otzi workshop
The day at Otzi starts early, earlier for some than for others. Martin, one of our woodworkers, is always first through the door of the wood workshop, arriving at the crack of dawn. He prefers to start while the rest of the city is still waking up, often so he can finish a little earlier and head out for personal errands, or, if the weather is kind, to go fishing. By the time the rest of us are switching on the kettle, he’s already well into shaping timber frames or components for upcoming pieces. His radio is inevitably blaring so loud you can hear it across the estate; thankfully, everyone in the wood workshop is already wearing ear defenders.
Before long, he’s joined by Sam, our soon-to-qualify woodworking apprentice. Sam’s honing his skills under Martin’s guidance, and the two of them work side by side in the steady rhythm of planing and sanding.
Next door, the leather workshop has a quieter atmosphere. Reggae or soul plays in the background and the air thick with that unmistakable leather smell. Marlon quietly mutters along to the music, while Lewis sometimes immerses himself in Stephen King audiobooks. For reasons none of us fully understand, Otis often chooses to listen to podcasts about people’s near-death experiences with wild animals.
Everyone gets straight to work when they arrive. After a quick health and safety check and maybe a coffee, the team focuses on whatever’s on the schedule. There’s always more than one project in progress and cooperation is essential. Timber frames taking shape while leather panels are being stitched and prototypes assembled, with tools and advice passing easily between hands.
When Otis arrives, he checks in with the team before diving into a new idea like a sketch he’s been mulling over, a piece of joinery to test, or a detail in leather that’s been bothering him. His workbench is never without a scattering of intriguing materials, trial cuts, and half-formed concepts.
When I finally arrive—bedraggled from the school run—the workshops are already in full swing. The sound of tools, the low murmur of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter carry through the building. I settle into my desk to deal with emails, orders, and admin before checking in with the team about materials, progress, or anything that needs my attention.
The workshops themselves are full to the brim. Stacks of timber, rolls of leather, prototypes, catalogues, and eccentric objects all jostle for space. Every surface tells a story—some are in production, others are remnants of experiments that didn’t make the final cut. It’s organised chaos, bound together by teamwork and mutual respect.
By the end of the day, pieces have moved from parts to assemblies, leather has been stitched and burnished, and the shelves hold new work ready for finishing or delivery. The smells of wood and leather linger—a quiet reminder that everything we make here is the result of many hands, many hours, and a shared commitment to craft.