Petite Prism 56 begins with a circle. Fifty-six transparent covers, each clipped into an untreated brass ring, are gathered in widening rings below a white base — the trace of a single stone dropped into still water, held a moment before it fades. The light leaves every prism straight down, so the ceiling stays in shadow and the table below is bright.

One ring at a time

We cut and finish each ring by hand, then leave the brass untreated. It darkens wherever the air reaches it, and over the years the lamp keeps its own quiet record of the room it hangs in. The covers clip into place instead of being glued, so a single prism can be lifted out, cleaned or replaced without disturbing the rest of the form.

Simple to look at, slow to make. That is how the essence of a thing survives.