It started with an oak table.
A friend was at my place, saw the table
and the two pieces of furniture in the garden house. Simply built pieces, nothing crazy. But solid oak. Honest. At some point the question: "Could you actually make something like that for my turntable?"
I could.
I went to his place. Took every measurement — turntable, receiver, collection, the room. He threw all his ideas at me. How he envisions it, what he has, how he'd like it. A shelf for the record sleeve, because he never knows where to put it. Headphones and speaker within reach. Record cleaning brush and cloth.
At the same time I observed. How does he listen to music? What does he do first? Where does his workflow stall?
Pull out the record → set down the sleeve → place it on → clean → listen → store.
Six steps. Each one needs something different from the furniture. This didn't become a wish list — it became an architecture.
We brainstormed together. I shared what I could see right away, he shared what he wanted. And then I went home and started thinking.
I didn't build right away. I thought. Weeks. Months. Kept coming back, kept thinking, kept looking for solutions.
He showed me reference images
. Warm and cozy. Minimalist. Industrial. At first glance contradictory. At second glance not — the common principle behind them: Japanese listening room aesthetics. Material that's real. Forms that have a reason. Calm without boredom.
He never put it that way. He doesn't have to. That's what I'm for.
And then the technical problems. The wheel system, for example. He likes to rearrange — with 30 to 40 kilos of records in the drawer, that becomes an operation. So the furniture needs wheels. But which ones?
Hydraulic system — too expensive.
Folding system — gives a jolt when it jams. Not good.
Standard casters — then the furniture rolls uncontrolled.
Fixed casters with brakes — didn't exist in the quality I wanted.
Many ideas tested, thought through, researched. Until I found the solution: swivel casters mounted in custom wood blocks
. Swiveling blocked, brake functional. Plus a modular leveling system — shims in various thicknesses, adaptable to floor unevenness, foot material, everything.
Not because you need that every day. But so you can when you want to. Felt pads worn out? Unscrew them. Different foot material, different height? Adjust. Rubber feet instead of felt, 3mm instead of 9mm? No problem. Future-proof.
That's how it went with every detail. 10 A4 sheets
. 4 of them with sketches. Everything else: in my head. No CAD.
Then I started building. Three drawers
— one large one for the records, a shelf for the receiver, the remaining space divided up, and a shelf on top for the record sleeve.
I brought the prototype to his place and set it up. He tested it for a good two months in daily use.
His feedback: The large drawer is too deep for what goes in it — the brush and cloth don't need anywhere near that depth. Could it be split? No problem. Made two drawers out of it — implemented directly.
And then the details that only become visible through real use: A stop on the top shelf so the record sleeve doesn't fall off the back. Cable routing in the rear. Small things that make the difference.
That's exactly what a prototype is for. Then I picked it back up and built the final version.
Everything I learned — from the conversation, from six months of thinking, from the prototype and his feedback — flowed into the final version.
Five levels. One ritual.
Pull-out shelf. For the record sleeve. Guide rail in the back — his feedback, implemented. Operable with one hand.

Care drawer. Brush, cloth, cleaning supplies. Its own drawer — his feedback, implemented. 
Receiver level. Visible, accessible. Cable routing thought through. 
Audio gear drawer. Headphones, speaker, charging station. Power routed through — everything charges inside the furniture. 
Record drawer. Active collection. Room to grow. Blum Movento full-extension slides. 
The idea for the drawer fronts also came from him: flush-mounted
instead of protruding. His suggestion — and from that emerged the entire front symmetry of the final version. One drawer closed, receiver open, drawer closed, records open, shelf on top. Rhythm. Order. Without having to push the drawers in.
The assembly was meditative. Part by part, screw by screw, everything coming together.
The lacquering was the biggest challenge of the entire piece.
Priming is still manageable — in two passes, applied a bit thicker than usual, adjusted. But the final coat? PU 2K lacquer. When you do one side and then the other, the lacquer must not touch the already-finished surface — otherwise it turns grey. No second chances.
So I had to find a way to lacquer the entire piece in a single pass. Every surface, every underside
. I did the feet separately, then placed the piece on crates
and sprayed everything in one go.
Worked.
Some problems only become visible when you think about how someone lives with a piece of furniture. Not days — decades.
Cables. The back of audio furniture is always a disaster. So I built a door. Solid oak, frameless. Swung open: complete access to everything behind it. Swung shut: looks like a front panel
. Reversible — mountable left or right, 30 seconds to switch.
The furniture can now stand anywhere. Against the wall. In the middle of the room. In front of the window. Finished from every side.
Weight. The wheel system — completely rebuilt for the final version because the prototype had a different system. Probably the area where the most time went in, counting research, testing, and building together. But now it works. And without this system there'd be no leveling system, which is what makes everything future-proof.
Timeless design. Door-style fronts protect the aesthetics. Frameless, clean. The furniture will look the same in 20 years as it does today.
| Material | ~5m² solid oak, 19mm |
| Wood weight | ~25kg |
| Total weight | ~60–70kg (incl. hardware, mechanics, wheel system, loaded) |
| Drawers | Blum Movento full-extension slides |
| Fronts | Flush-mounted, open/closed symmetry |
| Wheel system | TENTE Ø75mm, custom wood block mount |
| Cable routing | 4cm continuous clearance, front bars at records and receiver with 16.5cm spacing for symmetry |
| Surface | PU 2K lacquer |
| Build time | 150–200 hours |
| Lifespan | 50+ years |
Turntable on top. Small lamp on it
. Receiver in the middle. Records in the drawer
. Next to the floor-standing speakers, under the sloped ceiling.
He was thrilled.
It stands there. Quiet. Warm. As if it had always been there.
My first Signature Piece for someone else. Signed
, numbered. Born from a conversation, six months of thinking, a prototype, honest feedback, and the commitment to build nothing that doesn't feel right.
What you see is the result.
What you don't see is the reason it works.