Part of why we find them so charming is that they aren’t precious about their origins. What began as a way to patch over knots in the wood without wasting a board slowly turned into the studio’s signature, and that resourcefulness still runs through the work. The craft has only gotten deeper too, from hand-tapped brass to shell inlays sanded perfectly flush, and now even bone, which can be carved and filled with paint like a tiny illustration.

We talked with Jonah about the origins of the inlays, the imagery of the Catskills, and where the line between art and furniture sits for him.

Read the full conversation below.

You’ve been building Sawkille together for over fifteen years. How would you describe what the studio is really about at this point?

Since 1997 actually! Sawkille is a combination of a furniture production shop and art studio, each informs and guides the other. The constraints of building furniture guide the artwork, which guides the forms and designs.

Inlay has become a real signature for you. How did that start making its way into the furniture?

There were knots in the wood that people did not like, and not wanting to waste a board or a slab, we used wood patches to cover these features. Over time we began to use brass patches as well. At first they were simple shapes like squares and bowties, but they have become much more complex over time.

The motifs feel personal, the weather over your Woodstock ledge, rabbits, fish, branches. How do you decide what ends up in a piece?

If you live in the Catskills, on any given day, you’ll see wildlife, weather, and the changing seasons. It’s part of the narrative of living around here. Sometimes I feel like a reporter, just documenting the surroundings.

How does the inlay work actually get done? We’d love to understand the process, from cutting and setting the shell to the metalwork that comes out of your foundry.

The foundry is just for legs and art casting. The brass patches are laser cut and then tapped by hand. The shell is even more involved, beginning with very detailed drawings. Our shop cuts extremely precise “slots,” into which the inlays are glued. For shell inlays, we sand back the tabletop once glued for a perfectly smooth and flush finish.

You work across mother of pearl, abalone, brass, and silver. How do you choose a material for a given piece, and how does working with shell differ from the metal?

Years ago, the only inlay material was wood or brass. Each new material has been an exploration of its properties – texture, hardness, malleability, etc. We recently started working with bone as an inlay material. You can carve into the face of bone inlays and fill those carvings with paint. Once we sand it back, the filled carvings add illustration to the inlays. This kind of thing was never possible with brass.

You worked in your father’s jewelry shop as a kid and couldn’t stand it, and now you’re back doing silverwork decades later. What’s that return been like?

Silver has always been an inspiring material because it’s so malleable and easy to work with. The size of the pieces we work on are obviously much larger than jewelry, so it actually doesn’t have too much in common. Making a ring is a nightmare!

You’ve called yourself a sculptor who happens to run a woodshop. Where do you feel that’s most true in the work?

The art and the design together is a very different approach than most manufacturers. It’s of course always the goal to create beautiful lines, forms, and silhouettes, but we also want to add a human touch; something that goes beyond classic design principles to evoke deeper emotions. Furniture is what makes a house functional, but art is what makes it feel like a home.