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This spring, I had the wonderful experience of visiting Eva Mechler’s woodworking studio (which I discussed in an article at the beginning of this year) while passing through Switzerland. Situated just outside of Zurich, her workspace boasts a view of the Swiss pastures and bluish Alps that I could only describe as enviable – though, thankfully, the large picture window ensured I could soak up as much as possible of the perfectly sunny scene. Everyone at the workshop was hospitable, and Eva allowed me to take a look at the lengthy, careful process involved in designing and executing each of her furniture pieces, most of which are bespoke to each client, never to be published in any portfolio.

View from Eva Mechler's studio, April 2, 2025. Courtesy of the Abigail Leali.

Of all the materials one could choose to work with, wood has always struck me as occupying a particularly unique range of activities. From molding metal into jewelry or melting sand into glass, to mining marble for sculptures or grinding pigments for paint, plenty of other media draw on nature’s resources. But where many art forms rely on refined, often inorganic elements from the earth, woodworking strays far closer to life itself. It can be hard to remember that the wooden bookshelf or wardrobe standing in your room was once a living tree, but so it was – and evidence of its life remains long after it is cut down.

Eva Mechler, hand tool inherited from her grandfather and in daily use for hand carved sculptured furniture. Copyright: Eva Mechler.

As Eva took me through her shop, it became clear to me almost immediately that it is not enough for a woodworker to understand wood. She has to understand trees. As she guided me through several piles of newly arrived slabs, I expected Eva to distinguish different kinds of wood, maybe giving me a few facts here and there about the hardness of one or the pliability of another. And she did do a bit of that. But mostly, she walked me through her process of selecting wood – and in doing so, told me the story of the trees.

From the width of the rings, Eva could tell me how wet or dry each year had been during the tree’s growth. In some, there were notches long healed over, decades-old evidence of insect or animal or human intervention in the forest, which the tree had not allowed us to forget. She handled every piece with care. I realized that each pattern and deviation on every log was integral to the story of the land where she lives and works. The wood ties the woodworker to more than an idea but to the earth itself. By rights, it ought to have been a mystically transcendent moment – but Eva is also a craftsman, and practicalities do have a way of invading any prolonged sense of wonder. As it turns out, most of the aberrations would threaten the integrity of the product.

Eva Mechler, Master Furniture Maker – designer and hand craft specialist. Copyright: Eva Mechler.

It will come as no surprise that I could not grasp the totality of the woodworking process in an afternoon. Suffice to say, it is long. Even simple projects, I learned, can take months to complete, especially at the level of quality Eva consistently strives to achieve. What’s more, the Alpine woodlands have been protected for centuries, managed by woodworkers with an innate respect for the dignity of the materials they use. But now, stock is increasingly limited, and, though she explained to me that certain kinds of wood harvesting remain beneficial to the local ecosystem, deforestation and other environmental concerns have made excellent wood specimens increasingly difficult to come by.

Still, Eva has the benefit of far more years than she herself possesses. To date, she has traced her genealogy back over 140 years, capturing generations of “carpenters, engineers, and furniture makers” and placing her as the latest in a long line of people carrying on traditions of craftsmanship. Wood doesn’t change, at least not fundamentally; many of the techniques she uses today have been passed down for centuries, both within her family and within the broader Alps region.

Eva Mechler – Master Furniture Maker and Teacher. Copyright: Winch Design.

As a master woodworker, Eva remains attuned to all these realities even while engaged in the countless minute tasks involved in turning a felled log into a finished footstool. It is a matter of respect, but it is also a matter of necessity – even after it’s been cut down and dried, wood still carries with it the memory of life, and working with it requires as much of a nurturing hand as it does a firm and decisive one. By the time I left her studio that afternoon, it had become clearer than ever to me that woodworking was an act of cooperation between humans and nature.

Eva Mechler, hand-carved signature initials. Copyright: Eva Mechler.

But while looking back over the past, both in the abstractions of the craft and the tangible evidence of the medium, we also had some time to glance over Eva’s hopes for the future of the industry. It’s no secret that resources, both material and labor, are growing scarce in artisanal fields – all the more so at the level of mastery she has already achieved. And yet, Eva has begun integrating processes of renewal at the foundations of her studio’s structure, permeating her artistic philosophy itself.

For one, she encourages people considering a fine woodworking purchase in the modern day to “minimize their use of expensive, rare materials and… invest in craftsmanship instead.” She even goes so far as to use off-cuts from superyacht decking for many of her yacht furniture designs – which has the bonus of tying the interior decorations even more closely to the boat itself. She also recommends looking for craftsmen who have “completed a minimum of six years’ formal craft training to master level.”

Eva Mechler, Sofa Bench. Copyright: Eva Mechler.

Prioritizing the quality of the craftsman’s training may seem counterproductive in a time when we face a shortage of talent. But leaning into existing expertise, she believes, can help protect both our tangible and intangible heritage. It gives us time to develop more sustainable forest preserves and harvesting practices – and to consider new ways of using wood that, because of its perceived mundanity, may have been overlooked for decades. It also maintains the integrity of the industry itself, encouraging beginners to take their time and learn from experts, rather than forcing them into an environment where they are expected to produce high-quality pieces before they’ve even mastered the basics. For future generations, preserving the quality of our heritage may be more important than the quantity of its produce.

Eva’s vision of the future is formed by her constant experience of the past, mirrored in the wood upon which her creativity is expressed. Just as the trees take their time to grow, documenting every detail as they go and using time itself as a method to bolster their strength, so the woodworking industry – and many others like it around the world – need time to regroup from the ravages of the past two centuries of industrialization. Our relationship to nature has degraded exponentially over the last several generations. By directing our limited time toward growth, as the trees do, we may be able to preserve our lineage, smaller but unbroken, for people far in the future to remember what we have thankfully yet to forget.

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