First of all, there's perhaps the idea of shining a spotlight on something you love. As if to help it emancipate itself, to encourage it to go and live its own life.

A life that, until now, has often been anonymous. From one lair to another, from a studio to a flat, from an auction room to a house. From a loving hand to a greedy one, when it's not the other way round. Sometimes passing through the purgatory of the garage, the furniture repository, at the mercy of dislikes, fashions or inheritances.

This life of objects is theirs, it's entirely theirs, you can't take it away from them, at most you can choose to be part of it for a while. Just as they will one day become part of ours, or perhaps yours.

All these hundreds of objects that we come across in our work have at least one thing in common: we like them, we love them. But with time, and perhaps a form of maturity, came the desire to share them, to take them on a journey.

Another thing they have in common is that most of them are the result of handiwork. The result of a unique and precious continuum that runs from thought and abstract conception to physical realisation. They are the fruit of that harmonious, sometimes laborious movement that all creation requires. They are therefore fragile, like us, and this is undoubtedly where their ethical value lies.