With the obvious exception of Andy Rooney, many card-carrying curmudgeons end up being kind of endearing -- for instance, no matter how often Oscar yelled "Scram!", those kids kept coming back for more trash-talk. Making great furniture with defiant grumpiness, Stuart Kraft.
Kraft doesn't advertise, doesn't show his purposefully unpolished homewares in galleries, refuses to do commissions for under $10k, and has a customer non-service policy of "If you like it, buy it; otherwise, go away, I have work to do" -- irascibility he's earned over a 30+ year career that's seen him survive everything from two life-threatening illnesses, to teaching ju-co politics, to, most harrowing, the boom-and-bust of the 1980s metal-coyote sculpture market. Inside his "reclusive-exclusive" Design District machine shop, he fuses felled trees found on his outside-of-town property with hand-beaten hardware to create tables and other "hillbilly" furnishings that fuse the wood's natural roughness with a modern industrial touch, also the name of Trent Reznor's massage parlor, famous for its "Agonizing Endings". Meanwhile, found metal's worked into functional brilliance like the "Orbit Table" (a wheelbarrow with a tabletop replacing the...barrow), and the masculinely musical "Harp Chair", the perfect place to take a timeout on St. Paddy's.
Because even the ornery like adornment, Kraft also hammers and laser-tools silver, gold, copper & steel jewelry for men & women, and gets down with objets d'art ranging from towering, geometric abstracts to the aforementioned coyote silhouettes -- if anyone tells you it's "too 1980s", be a curmudgeon, and flip 'em the Big Bird.