The whitewashed Nerikomi Coffee Table forms scraps of plywood into a hexagonal-patterned piece.
Trey Jones doesn’t like to waste anything. So when he watched cabinetmakers tossing out plywood scraps in the workshop they all share in Alexandria, he started saving odd pieces, believing one day he’d know what to do with them. Just six months later, that day came. While visiting a client, the furniture-maker spotted a Japanese Nerikomi vase, its patterns formed of layered and sliced clays. “I saw that and it clicked,” he says. “I thought, ‘I can do that with these scraps.’”
Testing out the idea, Jones cut the plywood into slender strips, shaped them into a hexagon pattern, then glued the pieces together. He soon realized the technique could be expanded to form larger blocks held together by traditional joinery, and with interlocking patterns for added strength. Using hand and power tools, Jones proceeded to sculpt the blocks into pieces of furniture. “I really wanted something original, something idiosyncratic, new and interesting,” he says.
Since 2019, his Nerikomi series has handsomely built on those ideals. Tables, cabinets, sideboards and a sinuous, open-backed chair encompass an orderly, picturesque group. Their weighty presence is uplifted by intricate geometric patterns, flowing lines and carved-out openings. Atop one sideboard, an undulating form bends like a river, while the attenuated flutes on a cabinet resemble bamboo reeds—suited to a furniture designer who finds inspiration in nature.
Pieces may be natural or hand-stained in subdued or fiery colors. Sometimes hues are blended within a piece, as outside and inside The Forest Cabinet, which embeds some 350 pounds of scrap plywood in its six-foot-tall frame. Glowing, silken surfaces result from extensive sanding and a protective finish.
While carving away the blocks, Jones often discovers hidden treasures. “One wonderful thing about the material is that it keeps surprising me. It’s hard to predict what you’ll find in the pattern as you shape it,” he explains, pointing to a nearby bench’s graceful arches that had appeared as straight lines on the surface. “As I’m sculpting, I can respond to that—accentuate or add to the cool little compositions.”
On a recent visit, a 54-inch-tall dresser was underway—his most ambitious piece to date, destined for a New York gallery show. Its sculptural, naturalistic form incorporates five drawers and an open, wavy niche.
Jones’ design process generally begins with sketches. The dresser was conceived in a series of drawings made over several weeks to determine its shape, the size of the blocks required and its herringbone pattern. Ultimately, 15 separate blocks were assembled and connected by mortise-and-tenon joinery. “Then I spent weeks sculpting it with a bandsaw, carving tools, grinders—anything I could get my hands on to make it easier,” the designer recounts.
Throughout his childhood in Lexington, Kentucky, Jones enjoyed drawing and painting. While initially studying fine arts at Savannah College of Art and Design, he was encouraged by his fellow student and future wife, Melissa Leadbeater, to take a furniture-design class. “It ended up being my passion. Furniture-making is the perfect blend of art and fabrication,” notes Jones. After graduating in 2006 with a degree in furniture design, he apprenticed to a studio furniture maker in Seattle before starting his own business there. In 2015, the couple moved to DC to be closer to Leadbeater’s family.
While growing up, Jones and his brother Chris spent endless hours tinkering in the workshop of their father, who owned a construction company. These days that brother—formerly a biologist—works with Trey in the studio, having discovered an unexpected enthusiasm for the meticulous task of turning plywood scraps into patterns. After Trey addressed a furniture class at his alma mater, a second associate, Andrew Jacobs, joined them.
The team shares a 6,000-square-foot workshop and power tools with two cabinetmakers. In one of the rooms, scraps are organized by size and shape. They include leftovers from Trey’s own work—what he calls “offcuts from offcuts.”
A majority of the team’s work derives from commissions, including occasional pieces in a contemporary style the designer favored before his current series. “This scrap-plywood material inspired me to go further,” he explains. “Because it takes so much time to make, I felt it deserved to be more unique, so each piece is different and sculptural.” The time required for one maker to construct a piece can range from 40 hours for a small box to an anticipated 800 hours for the dresser underway.
Trey and his team weigh each piece before sending it out. From the start of their Nerikomi series to the time of this writing, he says, they have prevented more than 3,000 pounds of scrap plywood from going to a landfill. “The great part about what I’ve devised here,” he concludes, “is that the smallest scraps can become part of a large piece of furniture.”
Jones’ furniture will be part of a group exhibition at Friends Artspace in Arlington, opening September 21. friendsartspace.com; treyjonesstudio.com