The new generation of artisans in Rio de Janeiro

Jewelry full of personality

An ashtray ring. A necklace that doubles as a lighter holder. Jeweler Camilla Fernandez is pushing the boundaries with her jewelry-object hybrids. “Accessories are a way to show the world who we are without saying a word. That’s why I look for paths as broad as our personalities,” explains the 34-year-old artist.

Born in Brasília, Camilla moved to Rio in 2016 to take a jewelry-making course because she wanted to work with resin. As soon as she sawed her first brass sheet, she knew she’d found her passion. She deepened her skills through trial and error – and plenty of YouTube tutorials.

After some bouncing around, Camilla settled permanently in Rio in 2019. She lives in Santa Teresa with her husband, fellow artist Lucas Stirling. They share a home studio, where she emphasizes the story behind each piece over polished perfection. “I do commissions, but when I work on impulse, the piece stays truer to the process,” she says.

All her materials come from sustainable sources. She uses silver from recycled X-ray plates and sources gold only from small companies with certifications that guarantee ethical mining practices. “I’m also loving working with brass, which used to be undervalued but is now trendy for its accessibility and gorgeous color,” she notes. Camilla is well-known for her "face jewelry" but is now exploring ways to adorn other body parts like the nose, calves, thighs, and elbows. “I’m studying anatomy to find ways to enhance curves while keeping things comfortable,” she says. It might sound cliché, but you can tell she’s onto something exciting.

Sawdust on the body, splinters in the hands

Pedro Leal’s woodworking studio is in Niterói, just across the bridge from Rio. “Half of my job is treasure hunting, and I find most materials in Rio’s city center, which is undergoing massive changes,” he explains. When he spots construction sites, he asks if they have any materials to discard. It’s not unusual to find him rummaging through dumpsters, rescuing pieces headed for the landfill.

“The Rio region has woods you won’t find anywhere else in the world,” says Pedro, who recently worked with planks dating back to 1888 – the year slavery was abolished in Brazil. “Whoever built that structure probably worked in terrible conditions. I felt honored to give that wood a new life,” he reflects, quoting Japanese master Morito Ebine, who speaks of the multiple lives of wood.

Pedro, 32, was born in São Paulo but moved to Rio at 18. After working as a copywriter, including a stint in New York, he burned out and followed in his grandfather’s footsteps – who taught himself architecture. In 2017, Pedro opened his first workshop, taking full control of the process from start to finish, which he says saved him from burnout.

Nowadays, he shares a charming studio with Marcos Husky of Experimental Design and Guilherme Sass of Casa na Árvore, along with his bull terrier, Paçoca. And yes, his crew of woodworkers even goes on trips together, where the main topic of conversation is – you guessed it – wood. Gone are the days of ad campaigns; in their place are splinters and the sawdust that clings to Pedro’s clothes (his friends pretend not to notice anymore).

Recently, Pedro has been working with a Japanese technique called shou sugi ban, which uses fire as a finish, resulting in dark, charred pieces. His latest tables are headed to a gallery in Spain and São Paulo’s first W Hotel. “It’s a piece I love working on. I just made one for Dubai’s first Farm restaurant because they felt it represented Brazil well,” he shares. No arguments there.

The art of teaching

On one of Tijuca’s busiest streets hides a true oasis, where time moves differently. An arbor-lined alley on Rua José Higino is home to Ateliê Juma, run by ceramist Julia Massari since 2022. The 32-year-old has always loved working with her hands, but her passion for clay came later, almost by accident.

“I never knew it was possible for someone outside the fine arts to work with ceramics,” recalls Julia, who was working in film when a friend invited her to a ceramics class in 2017. “When I held my first finished piece, I felt empowered, like there was nothing I couldn’t do.”

Julia’s life was undergoing big changes at the time: she had just moved out of her dad’s house, switched jobs, and a month later, her father passed away. Ceramics became a therapeutic outlet, helping her process her emotions through tactile work.

In 2020, a former teacher invited her to teach, but the pandemic had other plans. During lockdown, Julia built a studio at home, complete with a kiln, and pursued her goal of teaching ceramics. Today, she has around 80 students and has also become a mom during that time; her son João is now two.

Always covered in clay dust, she draws an interesting parallel between ceramics and sustainability: “When people realize they can make their own plates, they don’t want to buy them anymore. It encourages more conscious consumption and supports local artisans,” she explains. Among her favorite creations are her design pieces, all with a distinct, personal aesthetic.

Faith, focus, and... art

Umbanda follower since childhood, artist Pedro Galaso believes a past life regression revealed he was once a Romani ceramicist. That might explain his natural talent for clay when he took up ceramics in 2020, on the advice of his psychiatrist. “I was hooked from the first touch,” jokes Pedro, an architect by training who turned to ceramics as a way to channel his ADHD.

The coordinator of the Furniture Design course at IED Rio, Pedro dove deeper into art, enrolling in visual arts classes at Parque Lage. For him, study, therapy, and religion blend together in his creative process, producing furniture and sculptures from his Copacabana apartment studio.

His Atotô series is an homage to Obaluaiê, an orixá associated with healing, featuring pieces steeped in cultural symbolism. His next collection will be a tribute to Oxum, his patron orixá. “I get more satisfaction from making unique pieces than from repeating furniture designs, so one complements the other,” he says.

Pedro sources his materials sustainably, often recycling clay from broken pieces. “If clay isn’t fired, it can be reused forever. I love experimenting with mixtures to achieve new tones,” he explains. And if you bump into him, expect him to be covered in clay. “Fun fact: dried clay is great for hangovers – it absorbs all the alcohol,” he laughs. Word from the master.

No knot without a stitch

If they say that the apple never falls far from the tree, Manu Almeida is living proof. Her talent is inherited from her father's side – he’s a craftsman and goldsmith, and his mother was an exceptional seamstress. With her dad, she discovered macramé, and with her grandmother, she learned how to sew. But it wasn’t until 2021, after quitting her job as an architect, that the 34-year-old from Niterói, Rio, decided to blend it all together and bring her own creations to life.

In her Botafogo apartment, which has been converted into a studio, she develops large-scale textile art, mixing ropes, ceramics, and other natural materials. Her work branches out in two directions: a more artistic side, like the installations she recently made for an exhibition at the Centro Cultural dos Correios; and a more commercial side, featuring products like chairs, wall sculptures, and even power strips (which get a special touch with hand-braided nautical ropes).

“The intersection between the two sides is in my custom-made frames, but I’m always exploring new possibilities,” says Manu, who sources natural fibers from small producers and often reuses leftover materials, even launching collections made entirely from waste. She explains that life stages have a huge influence on her work: “Artisans pour everything into their hands, so our state of mind is always reflected in what we create.”

But don’t be fooled into thinking that handcrafting is all peace and inspiration. Although she started with deeply immersive processes, as her craft became her job, time began to dictate the pace. “The issue of time is complex. We need to find a balance between creative idleness and entrepreneurship, and admirers or buyers need to better understand that as well,” she believes.

From trash to treasure

In 2017, during an exchange program in Rio, 34-year-old Danish native Soeren Hallberg struck up a relationship with 29-year-old Carioca Victor Xavier and decided to make Rio his permanent home. A few years later, the pandemic hit, and the couple sought a hobby to pass the time in their tiny Lapa apartment. That’s when they started working with cement, creating practical objects like vases, trays, coasters, and mirrors.

The positive feedback from friends made them realize they were onto something bigger. Curious, they decided to dive deeper into research. To clarify: while concrete is a mix of cement, water, and traditional aggregates like sand and gravel, the couple decided to experiment with terrazzo, which brings other elements into the mix. They even started incorporating oyster shells into their creations. “We’re always eager to experiment, and this is just the beginning,” promises Victor.

Thus, Assimply Studio was born in 2021. The company’s name is a combination of the words "assemble" and “simplicity.” Their pieces grew in scale, incorporating materials that would otherwise be destined for the trash. This includes discarded glass from a factory in Minas Gerais or sourced from local recyclers, construction debris found on the streets, leftover stones from a marble shop, and even plastic bottle caps.

The duo’s studio is in Gamboa, near Praça da Harmonia, on the ground floor of a small building. “We live on the third floor, so our work is closely tied to our daily life. Soon, we want to open the second floor as a showroom and host events,” reveals Victor, who has partnered with local waste pickers to source some of the materials.

Recently, the pair showcased their LT chair at the Milan Furniture Fair, made from scrap wood obtained from a group of local carpenters and Azul Bahia granite (believe it or not) found in a dumpster around town. “We’re focused on projects that combine radical restoration with new knowledge and intelligent use of raw materials for a more conscious future. We want to give new life to what would otherwise be discarded,” Victor summarizes.

The role of imaginary friends

Even as a young child, Gustavo Siqueira was making art before he even knew what art was. He would color with pencils and repurpose packaging from the kitchen into toys or little creatures – these same creatures still appear in his work today.

The 27-year-old from Rio invested in various courses, learned how to make props for theatrical productions, and eventually found his passion in papier-mâché. His portfolio includes vases, objects, mirrors, and paintings – not to mention his "Imaginary Friends" series, which draws inspiration from childhood companions. “My goal is to never repeat the same shape,” says Gustavo, who takes inspiration from nature’s curves. “I look at a mushroom or a sea urchin and immediately think about how I can translate that into my creations.”

Recently, the sea has been the most influential theme for his brand, Amarlungo – a name he adopted and is now known by. The word was inspired by the song "Saudação Malungo" by singer Luedji Luna. “I looked up the meaning and found out it represents companionship, strength, and ancestry. I rearranged a few letters to include the word ‘amar’ (love), and the name came to me even before I started developing the work I do today,” he recalls.

His first pieces, created in 2022, were exhibited at the Feira do Lavradio in downtown Rio and were a hit. Amarlungo was soon invited to showcase his work at a collaborative store in São Paulo. Nowadays, his creations are only available through his website or by commission.

Gustavo creates everything from his home in Madureira, in Rio’s North Zone, using paper that would otherwise be discarded. The material comes from nearby print shops and from teacher friends. Restless by nature, he’s already working on new experiments: his next pieces will include large-scale lamps and sculptures. "My mind is always buzzing with ideas, and they take shape in the form of these objects," he concludes.

More than just magic carpets

Valentina’s inspiration to pursue a career in fashion came from her mother, a costume designer, but it was during her final college years that she discovered hand-weaving. She deepened her knowledge through a technical course in Sweden, and used her student aid to buy a loom, which she brought back to Brazil. The young designer, who had interned at brands like Osklen, decided to leave the fashion industry behind to fully devote herself to her craft.

Thus, in late 2016, Voador Tecelagem was born, offering custom-made tapestries. Everything was going smoothly until the pandemic hit, and her boyfriend, Patrick Gondim, was laid off from his job as a footwear designer. The couple decided to join forces, with Patrick becoming a partner in the business, which underwent a major overhaul.

“We designed new products, created a website, and relaunched the brand with a fresh approach,” recalls the 31-year-old from Rio. Since then, they’ve expanded their range to include ready-made products and a variety of options: larger floor rugs, throws, cushions, paintings, screen-printed posters, and even a porcelain line. “We combine handcrafted work with other production methods,” she explains.

The brand’s visual identity features vibrant colors, a mix of abstract and figurative designs, and a good dose of humor. “That’s Patrick’s strong influence,” says Valentina, who oversees the creative process and finances, while Patrick handles supplier relations. They also have two employees and outsource part of the production to weavers in Minas Gerais, São Paulo, and Rio’s mountainous region.

The couple works from their studio in Botafogo, where they also run a store called Lado Sobrado, shared with other artisanal brands – Projeto Fio, which empowers women in Rio through embroidery, and Ateliê Cura, which collaborates with crochet artisans in Maranhão using buriti palm fibers. Voador Tecelagem also focuses on natural materials, sourcing from suppliers across Brazil.

“We don’t need more plastic in the world, so even when we use synthetics, we try to make them as sustainable as possible,” Valentina says, citing econyl, a type of regenerated nylon thread made from ocean waste like fishing nets. “We strive to be as sustainable as possible, even though it makes the process more expensive, and yet we still aim to keep our prices accessible for the end consumer,” she concludes.