Kauppakatu 18, Jyväskylä
We are not a factory with a story about craft. We are four people in a 90 m² room above a bicycle shop, and if you come on a Thursday you will probably be handed something to sand.
Who does what
Nobody here is a brand manager. If you ask a question about grain direction you will get an answer from the person holding the chisel.
Usually eleven weeks, of which nine are arguing about the shape.
Saara works in pencil at 1:1 so the size is honest from the first line. Anything that cannot be cut from a 60 mm board without waste goes back.
Mikko cuts a first article and drops it onto concrete from bench height twenty times. If a joint opens or an edge chips, the shape changes rather than the warning label.
Three grits by machine, the last by hand. Linseed and beeswax, a coat on Monday and a coat on Wednesday, because one coat looks fine and feels wrong.
Elias packs it in the crate it will live in, adds the finish tin, the sanding pad and a card with the maker's name on it, and it is on the four o'clock post.
“The pony arrived with a card saying who carved it. My daughter wrote back to her. Saara replied. That is not a marketing tactic, that is just a small shop.”
“A block split along the grain after two winters near a radiator. I sent a photo on a Tuesday and a replacement was in the box on the Friday, with no argument and no invoice.”
“We run a group of eighteen two-year-olds. The train set has been dropped, stood on and chewed for three years and still couples cleanly. Nothing else in the room has lasted a year.”
The bench shop is open Thursday to Saturday, 10 to 17, at Kauppakatu 18. Every first Saturday there is a seconds table — toys that failed a finish check but not a strength check, about a third off.