yinjispace

ARTIST
Benoit Viaene
PHOTOGRAPHY
Long Zhao
WORDS
Meng Lin
EDITOR
Jinjie
Collection

In October, the autumn air grew crisp in Ghent. Under the softening light of a 4 p.m. sky, we arrived at the home and studio of Benoit Viaene. This would prove to be the most unique visit of our itinerary—Benoit greeted us at the door with a shy demeanor, offering no elaborate self-introduction nor a curated tour. His first words were spoken while pointing out the window: "That was my original studio. It burned down last November, so now I work from here." In that simple statement lay the resilience of a true practitioner. This architect, driven by boundless curiosity, has expanded his exploration into interior design, landscape design, custom furniture, and especially deep research into material craftsmanship. As we passed through the narrow hallway into his workspace, we stepped into what felt like a treasure trove of materials.

The studio was a living archive of material experiments. The long table was adorned with an array of small samples, from subtle wood grain variations to oxidized metal traces; the side cabinets were layered with test pieces documenting each exploration; the floors and walls were dotted with larger specimens, witnessing the transformation from idea to object. 

Benoit picked up a plate-sized piece of transparent green glass that revealed watery textures under the fading afternoon light. "This is a sample for a tabletop," he explained earnestly. "The glass texture actually comes from charred wood. I first experiment with the wood to achieve the desired effect, then transfer it to glass through a special process."

We quietly observed other wonders in the studio: a wooden surface preserved the concentric ripples of a water drop, as if freezing a moment in time; compressed cork, once fired, displayed volcanic rock-like crackling textures; metals oxidized at different temperatures revealed gradients from bronze to deep black; most astonishing was a marble sample, its surface treated into gentle waves like a breeze brushing over water.

"I prefer using natural materials and treating them in natural ways," Benoit shared. "For instance, all the black tones come from fire, and each type of wood responds uniquely to it." These experimental samples build upon traditional craftsmanship while pushing material boundaries—some requiring up to ten processes to complete. He calls this "perfect imperfection"—meticulously treated while preserving the material's innate character.

Benoit searched through his tablet filled with project images. He showed us—three pieces of wavy green glass set into a shower wall, where light refracting through the surface created dynamic shadows, imbuing the bathing space with an aquatic atmosphere.

His presentation continued: picking up a ceramic tile sample from a corner, its diamond-shaped surface bulged like plump balloons. "These are hand-fired, three-dimensional ceramic tiles for a washbasin." The finished product on screen was breathtaking—vibrant glazed tiles in different colors assembled into an elegant basin where bold hues and minimalist forms achieved perfect balance, both playful and dignified. Each tile was meticulously designed: vertical tiles were wide and shallow, horizontal ones narrow and deep, with specially made connecting pieces for corners. "For cleaning, each tile must be removed individually," he smiled.  "You do not have to remember the positions as each tile has a specific nr of pins that mach the position." 

When he revealed a double-height interior courtyard project, everyone was mesmerized—the entire space consisted of fluid white curves. "All surfaces are made of bamboo," he stated, as participants eagerly sought details. He showed construction videos: using tape to define forms on site, finishing surfaces with clay and straw, helping everyone understand how this innovative structure was realized.

Even the black cylindrical wooden piece by the entrance held secrets. "These are stair treads," he revealed the precise gap between two wood pieces. "Solid wood is precisely cut to accommodate steel reinforcement, fired, then reassembled on site." This dedication to detail permeates every piece of his work. In these moments, Benoit resembled a magician, pulling samples from every corner of his studio. Each unassuming piece unfolded into a rich narrative in his hands—from production techniques to spatial application, from functional effects to maintenance considerations. The room contained hundreds of such samples, each holding unique design explorations.

A participant couldn't resist asking: "We've met many designers specializing in materials, but most focus on one to three types. How do you deeply research so many different materials simultaneously?" Benoit glanced toward where his former studio stood. "Most of that research happened there, now lost to the fire," he replied calmly. "Aside from materials like glass and ceramics that require specialized equipment—where I collaborate with artists—I handle most experiments myself."

His seven-person team completes about ten projects annually—spanning architectural, interior, landscape, and furniture design, including surface treatments—while creating 150 custom table pieces each year. "I never pursue quantity, only quality," Benoit explained. "Keeping the team small allows me to remain a designer and craftsman, not a manager." His curiosity fuels relentless exploration: from architecture to interiors, from design to craftsmanship, from traditional techniques to innovative processes, from single materials to cross-material experiments. This spirit of never repeating himself and continuous exploration constitutes his incredible depth and breadth of work.

When asked about a wooden table covered with hundreds of hand-carved grooves, he admitted frankly: "The workers can't achieve this effect; I have to do it myself. In this industrial age, I want to bring poetry through the warmth of handcraft." Speaking of the sacrifices required, he smiled awkwardly: "For many years, I slept only four hours nightly. Now I need six." This dedication stems from eight years of self-teaching—starting from an architecture background, accumulating experience through trial and error, in perpetual exploration. Regarding the rippled stone tabletop, he shared: "Traditional stone craftsmen follow set procedures and don't break conventions. To achieve breakthroughs, I must experiment myself—including grinding, sculpting, some pieces requiring up to twelve different processes."

During the lively exchange, a participant presented renderings of a luxury residence, exploring collaboration possibilities. After careful examination, Benoit suggested: "Introducing a rippled table of my design could bring aquatic vitality to the space through its subtle reflections. Currently, all interior materials absorb light, whereas my tabletop acts like water surface, making light and shadow flow through the space, better integrating all furnishings." He elaborated: "Like the water feature in a traditional courtyard—even at night, when light touches the water surface, the reflected stars and moon animate the space. Light is the starting point of all atmosphere; without light, there's no design. That's why I never start with specific designs, but first consider what the environment offers and what materials can achieve."

The participant conceded that the space, for all its designer furniture, fell short of expectations. Benoit said gently: "This reminds me of the trend in the US fifteen years ago, when people used luxury brands to prove purchasing power. But now, more people seek authenticity in design, craving unique pieces rather than brands their neighbors can also buy." This brought to mind our observation in Belgium—many artists wear the same clothes for years. When design truly possesses authenticity, people cherish and use it long-term, shifting from consumerism to longtermism. Each choice becomes more deliberate, every piece stands the test of time.

As we left, Benoit stood among his material samples to bid farewell. The architect who had been shy during introductions now glowed with passion when sharing his creations, his entire being radiant. In the deepening twilight, we walked through Ghent's ancient streets, our hearts brighter than when we arrived. The fire took his studio, but not his creative spirit. In this era obsessed with quick results, Benoit Viaene proves through his persistence: true value lies not in external validation, but in inner authenticity. His humble workspace is a precious sanctuary in this restless era. Here, every unique handcrafted texture whispers: creation has always been the soul's deepest need.

From an afternoon's first meeting to a twilight farewell. Benoit's way of being shows us: in today's standardized world, maintaining curiosity, upholding authenticity, creating unique value with our hands—this is the spark each of us can kindle. And this spark now burns quietly in every heart.

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