Atlas project
This massive oak slab—four-and-a-half metres long, weighing a full ton—came from a fallen giant in Devon, its grain still whispering of storms and centuries. We hauled it across borders, over mountains, until it landed here in the French Alps, perched like a throne above snow-dusted peaks.
Sunlight catches every knot and swirl, turning the wood into liquid amber against that endless blue sky. It doesn’t just sit there—it commands the room, quiet and ancient, while the wind outside sings through pines. Honestly? It feels less like furniture… more like the mountain itself decided to come indoors.
This whole project was built from nothing—every angle, every join, every breath of it custom. Those massive central pedestals? We welded them ourselves, steel plates fused tight, no factory shortcuts
We ran electric wires clean through them—seamless, invisible—so the whole table can glow underneath when night drops.
We had to get clever—crane in, ropes tight, everyone holding their breath while this one-ton beast swung up and over the ridge. But look: it settled right there, framed by the peaks, like it always belonged. Worth every second of head-scratching
This table—born from Devon oak and Alpine steel—stands as the finest thing We’ve ever made.
