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Sculptural furniture that blurs the line between strength and sensuality

  • Arthur Vallin
  • New York City, USA
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Sculptural Furniture that Blurs the Line Between Strength and Sensuality

The Bio

Arthur Vallin is a French designer and art director based in New York, known for his sculptural furniture that merges architecture, emotion, and material tension. Working with stone, metal, and glass, his pieces explore the balance between strength and sensuality — bold, minimal forms that feel both timeless and alive.

Get in touch with us if any inquiries into Arthur Vallin’s work

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The Products

  • Toad Console II Toad Console II
    • Toad Console II
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Sono Side Table Sono Side Table
    • Sono Side Table
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Sculpt Coffee Table Sculpt Coffee Table
    • Sculpt Coffee Table
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Toad Bench Toad Bench
    • Toad Bench
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Emersion II Floor Lamp Emersion II Floor Lamp
    • Emersion II Floor Lamp
    • Price on request
    • arthur
  • Narcissus Mirror Narcissus Mirror
    • Narcissus Mirror
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Pearl Console Pearl Console
    • Pearl Console
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Amande Bench Amande Bench
    • Amande Bench
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Tourné Side Table Tourné Side Table
    • Tourné Side Table
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Antradeas Coffee Table Antradeas Coffee Table
    • Antradeas Coffee Table
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Fold Console Fold Console
    • Fold Console
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin
  • Toad Circular Table Toad Circular Table
    • Toad Circular Table
    • Price on request
    • Arthur Vallin

The Conversation

When did you first realise that you wanted to design furniture or collectable pieces — what was the turning point?

I run an advertising agency where we design and build large-scale, highly crafted sets. These projects often take six months to develop but exist for only a brief moment — installed overnight and dismantled after just 48 hours. Despite the effort and artistry behind them, their impermanence has always stayed with me. That desire to create something more lasting, something that couldn’t be erased overnight, is what led me to start working with stone.

What role does place play in your creative self — being French, living in New York, collaborating globally — how has that shaped your vision?

My main influence is definitely European — New York not so much. Growing up in Paris, you’re immersed in a city where every street is a lesson in composition. From the obvious Haussmannian architecture to Guimard’s organic gestures scattered throughout, the city constantly trains your eye, even if you’re not consciously tuned into design. That environment gave me a strong sense of proportion and a natural attention to how materiality interacts with light. And once you start scratching beneath the surface, you inevitably discover the craftsmen behind these works — this timeless dialogue between designer and maker that, in many ways, defines the soul of Paris.

Is there a moment you think of as your personal rupture — when things stopped making sense, and you had to make something with your hands?

The digital world is taking us further away from materiality and social connection. Working with craftsmen and organic materials feels grounding and soothing — it brings you back to the tangible. Many people are involved; you have to connect, touch, shape, and then decide when to stop, when it’s enough — when the piece is ready. It’s the perfect counterpoint to where the world is heading: toward less physicality, an overreliance on remote collaboration, and increasing dematerialization. I love it for that reason — it’s concrete, human, and deeply satisfying to create something real.

What do you fear most in your process — repetition, failure, or emptiness?

What I fear most is losing curiosity. The moment I stop exploring a new process or a new form, it becomes daunting. It’s essential for me to stay open-minded — to keep looking around, observing what’s happening across different fields. Ultimately, if you tune out from the world, the work loses its pulse.

Your collaborations with artisans and craftspeople around the world are central (in Italy, Portugal, France) — what does that human craft element bring to your work that machines, digital design, or isolated studio work cannot?

Growing up in the 90s, manual work was often undervalued at school, but I was lucky to be surrounded by people deeply rooted in crafts like carpentry. I’ve always been fascinated by those who can take raw material and turn it into something beautiful. None of my designs could exist without these incredible craftsmen — their skills are passed down through generations, not by teaching, but by showing and feeling the material. Working with them is essential; they hold the knowledge to bring ideas to life in the most refined and authentic way. __