Craft and Design

I (Isabelle) do not have a background in craft or design. Otis, on the other hand, has spent all of his working life making and designing and as a consequence he carries out these activities as second nature – he always has a piece of some material in his hand which he is bending or feeling or looking at. Since working for Otzi I’ve been trying to better understand what we do at Otzi, which includes understanding how the workshop navigates the delicate balance between traditional craftsmanship and contemporary design practices. We don’t entirely lie within the realm of ‘craft’ nor do we fit squarely in the ‘design’ category. Instead, we occupy a space that blends these worlds, where the process of making informs the design as much as the design shapes the making. 

The relationship between craft and design has intrigued me for some time, particularly in a studio like Otzi, where materials are not just the foundation of our work but its language. Craft isn’t simply about making, it’s about understanding the materials in order to utilise them in the best way possible in the making; nor is design merely about creating an idea and then working out how to make it. Craft is also deeply rooted in tradition, in the inheritance of skills that are often passed down through personal experience and time-honored methods, and as such it demands a respect for the past. Design, however, has a different relationship to time, often demanding a level of innovation that pushes the boundaries of what was possible before.

At Otzi there is a symbiosis between the design and the making that is borne from a deep understanding, interest, and respect for all the components and processes that are involved. The overlap between design and craft, at least for us, is not one of simple combination. It’s about each side informing the other, where the physical process of making guides the design as much as the design dictates the methods of making. This fluidity between the two creates something that feels more like a synthesis; a piece of furniture that is both thoughtfully designed and deeply rooted in craft traditions. The utility is multi-faceted; it comes from the best use of the materials, the optimal end use for the client, and best design for aesthetic and functional purpose of the piece. 

I’ve been reading Soetsu Yanagi’s reflections on “the beauty of everyday things.” His writing challenges the assumption that beauty must be rare or extraordinary. Instead, he finds it in the ordinary, the useful, and the well-made. This is very much in line with the approach of Otzi. Our pieces are built with time and skill, using processes grounded in tradition, but they’re also designed and consciously shaped by intention, context, and aesthetic judgment. We don’t approach furniture as sculpture, nor do we treat it as purely functional. Instead, I think we’re looking for the kind of quiet resonance that Yanagi speaks of: objects that serve, endure, and enrich their surroundings not through excess, but through integrity and use. That has implications not just for how we make, but for how we communicate value, permanence, and meaning in a world increasingly dominated by speed and surface.