IN THE WORKSHOP WITH NEAL CAMERON

We caught up with designer and maker Neal Cameron at his workshop in Glasgow in the lead-up to the launch of his new Hollow Stool series. Neal shared insights into his journey into design, his deep connection to materiality, and the evolution of his latest collection.

Can you tell us about your journey into design—how did your upbringing and background lead you toward a career in making and designing?

"I think you don't often stop to think about how you got to where you are—you just end up there because you want to be there. Looking back, I was always creatively interested at school, but I didn’t really know where I wanted to go. Studying product design at university felt like a good step, even though the course ended up being a lot more strategy and anthropology-focused than hands-on making.

It wasn’t until I went abroad, spending time in Germany and Helsinki, that I started experimenting freely and seeing different approaches to design. After uni, working in foundries and fabrication workshops taught me the value of labour and making with my hands. That criticality—constantly questioning why you’re making something—stuck with me from university, but it’s the physicality of making that really fuels my practice now."

What or who have been some of your most significant design inspirations, and how have they helped shape your current methodology?

"I don't often feel stuck for inspiration—if anything, I have too many half-baked ideas floating around! A lot of it comes from culture and from seeing how others work. During my time in Helsinki, I was introduced to Andrea Branzi and amazing Italian designers from the sixties and seventies, which really shaped my thinking. More contemporary inspirations like Max Lamb and Martino Gamper also pushed me toward making rather than going into service design.

And of course, Instagram and the internet have made it easier to stay connected to international movements. In Scotland, the style is often rooted in a more traditional craft aesthetic, but my interests lean much more towards contemporary European design."

Your work shows a deep sensitivity to materials—where did this focus on materiality come from, and why is it such a central part of your practice?

"For me, material and intention follow each other. A lot of the joy comes from discovery—seeing how a certain edge detail looks in one material compared to another. It's almost like working in a 3D sketchbook. I try to consciously create space for play and experimentation because that's where unexpected, interesting ideas happen.

It's not about fitting a material to a finished design—it's a full-circle process where material exploration often leads the form. Even if something’s been done before, it feels novel to me because the journey to get there is mine."

What was the initial concept behind the Hollow Stool, and how did the idea evolve from sketch to finished piece?

"The Hollow Stool started from looking at negative space. I was experimenting with how curves could interact, and putting four curved segments together created this form that just clicked—it was one of those proper eureka moments where you get excitement in your belly.

Originally, it wasn’t even meant to be a stool. I thought about using the detail on cabinet doors, and then eventually reworked it into a circular seat. From there, it was all about playing with proportion, scale, and finding that sweet spot between simplicity and character."

Spalted beech has a very distinct grain and character—what drew you to this particular timber, and how does its natural patterning influence the construction of each stool?

"Honestly, it was a happy accident. I bought a load of timber at an auction and ended up with way more than I thought—big slabs of rough-sawn wood. When I planed some down, I discovered this incredible marbled grain I hadn't seen before. It turned out to be spalted beech.

Each board is so unique that building the stools felt like putting together a real-life jigsaw. You're not just cutting components—you’re deciding where the most beautiful bits of marbling land in the final piece. No two stools are the same, and that individuality became a big part of the process."

Considering the distinctive character of the Hollow Stool, where do you envision these pieces being placed? Are there particular environments or settings you feel would best complement their design and materiality?

"I’d love to see them in public spaces—cafés, restaurants—where people can interact with them naturally. It’s nice to think about someone sitting down and noticing the material, the pattern, the feel of it.

But I also like the idea of letting go once a piece leaves the workshop. It's up to someone else to place it and integrate it into their world—like a piece of art finding its new context."

How does the Hollow Stool reflect your overall design philosophy and approach to craftsmanship?

"I think it ties back to that balance of critical thinking and hands-on making. The Hollow Stool is simple in form, but it’s layered in discovery—both for me in the making process and hopefully for whoever lives with it. It’s about expressing materiality and form honestly, without overcomplicating it."

How have you found your first experience producing a batch of furniture compared to your previous experience with bespoke, one-off pieces, and can we expect more batch runs from you in the future?

"Batch production’s been a bit of a learning curve. I love discovery and prototyping, so part of me worried batch work might feel repetitive. But actually, seeing 15 Hollow Stools lined up, each slightly different because of the timber, was really exciting.

It’s made me think about batch production differently—not as mass replication, but as creating a series where each piece still has individuality. I’m keen to explore that more, maybe even through new materials like sawdust composites I’ve been thinking about."

What are you working on now and what is next for you, the Hollow Stools and your practice as a whole?

"Right now, I’m working on a really exciting commercial project in London alongside preparing for the Hollow Stool exhibition. Beyond that, I’m focusing on keeping a balance between commission work and free experimentation—one feeds into the other.

Collaboration is a big thing for me too—working with people like Alex Garthwaite has opened up loads of new ideas. So the plan is more collaborations, more experimentation, and always carving out space to play and discover new things."