Vellum & Oak is a two-person atelier in a converted carriage house near Decatur — handcrafting bespoke tables, sideboards, and bookcase cabinetry from kiln-dried reclaimed timbers and 19th-century brass.
Every piece that leaves our shop was conceived at a single table, for a single room, in answer to a single human. There is no catalog. There is no warehouse. There is a draftsman's bench, a cooperage stocked with kiln-dried reclaimed timbers, and a wall of 19th-century brass pulls waiting to be told what to become.
The work is slow. A sideboard takes eleven days. A bookcase cabinet can take a month. We would not know how to go faster, and we would not want to.
Four stations, one workshop, no shortcuts. Each piece passes through every hand in the shop before it is sent home.
A conversation, a sketch, a single page of graph paper. We agree on what the piece is for, what it must hold, and what it must never become.
Reclaimed kiln-dried timbers are selected, weighed, and rested. We let the wood sit three days before we cut — to know what it wants to be.
Brass pulls, escutcheons, and reeded edges are matched and married. The piece is composed the way a sentence is written — slowly, and in order.
Sanded, oiled, and wrapped in linen cloth for the journey. We walk it to the door and we hand it over — and we remember every one.
A selection from the last three years of the shop. Each was made for one room, and each is now sitting in it.
We don't have a price list. We have three kinds of conversation. Tell us which one you'd like to begin.
We follow up with every keeper, one year after the send-home. These are a few of their replies.
The sideboard arrived on a Tuesday, and by Sunday I had stopped noticing it. That is the highest thing I can say about a piece of furniture — it became the room.
I asked for a table that could hold a lifetime of letters. They sent me a cabinet that could hold a quiet life. It was the same thing, and they knew that before I did.
Two craftsmen, eleven days, one piece. I have bought mass-produced furniture by the dozen and none of it is still in my house. This one will outlive me.
We do not sell furniture. We make it — for one person, one room, one story. If you have a room, we have a conversation.
Begin a Project →Send us a note about the room, the piece, and the story. We will write back within two days — and we will likely come walk through it before we lift a chisel.