Matteo Bauer-Bornemann’s Full Metal is born from a deep reverence for the utilitarian language of industrial architecture, translating its structural logic into a series of sculptural furniture pieces.
The work speaks in lines—clean, repetitive, unapologetically precise. Each object begins with a grid: vertical and horizontal axes forming a rigid scaffold from which all design decisions unfold. There is no indulgence in softness. The gesture is one of restraint—of rigorous minimalism that edges into the poetic.
Full Metal does not mimic the aesthetic of steel; it is steel. The material remains in its elemental state—raw, powder-coated, or zinc-treated—not masked, but magnified. Every weld, bolt, and joint becomes part of its visual vocabulary. This is brutal elegance: function as expression, exposure as form.
By refusing concealment, the furniture achieves something quietly subversive. It dissolves the boundary between utility and beauty, suggesting that clarity can be ornamental, and that structural honesty can feel intimate. In laying bare the logic of its own making, Full Metal becomes clear statement of construction.
