yinjispace

ARTIST
Mircea Anghel
PHOTOGRAPHY
BIJISPACE
Emily Vanweydeveld
Manel Moniz
WORDS
Fynn
EDITOR
Jinjie
Collection

The rigid geometry of the city faded behind us. The horizon softened, vegetation grew wild across the fields, and the air carried the particular stillness of the Portuguese countryside. Here, time itself seemed to slow its pace. We arrived at the Herdade da Barrosinha art district in Alcácer do Sal—a vast space transformed from an old sawmill. In this place rich with the scent of wood and the play of light and shadow, Mircea Anghel, along with a few fellow designers, is building his creative kingdom.

When we first met Mircea, he was barefoot, a cigarette between his fingers, a beer in hand, moving freely through the studio to the rhythm of passionate music, immersed like a child in the freedom and energy this land bestowed. “I design only two things: proportion and balance. Everything else comes from accident,” he said with a smile. All around us lay the masterpieces born of such “accidents”: a slanting table defying gravity, a cabinet shaped by explosion, wood charred by flame, paper suspended in resin.

We gathered around the work named “Democratic Table”, its wood grain gently undulating in the shifting light. Mircea brushed his hand over the surface, inviting us to sense its delicate balance—it remains steady only when everyone finds consensus. This is not merely a piece of furniture, but an experiment in relationships and trust, an attempt to give physical form to philosophical thought.

On a nearby screen, a film showed the creation process of “Out of Control”, where explosion becomes a language of form. In slow motion, smoke and fragments bloomed like flowers, violence and elegance conspiring in a single moment. “It’s about surrender,” he remarked with a smile. “In this increasingly out-of-control world, we can’t even fully command our own thoughts, let alone anything else.”

Turning, our gaze was drawn to a tall, charred solid wood folding screen called “Out of the Fire”. Here, flame shapes freely—not controlled, but allowed to leave its breath and traces upon the wood. Four split sections of a trunk close into one unified body, yet unfold to reveal a new posture, as if the tree’s inner self had been gently turned inside out. The scorched grain preserves the memory of fire, blurring the line between nature and human intervention. Flame penetrates the wood, destruction and creation intertwine—balance is reborn from the embers.

Beneath a rugged exterior lies a quiet thoughtfulness. Mircea’s approach to creation is almost archaeological—he does not force form upon the material, but rather uncovers it, entering into a dialogue with its natural state. “It requires patience,” he admits. “You must yield to fate—the form is already hidden within the material.” His works drift along the boundary between intention and chance: a table poised on minimal points of contact, a bench like a captured ripple resting in time.

Wandering through his studio is like moving through an endless laboratory: tree trunks awaiting transformation, solidified bronze casts, the skeletal hull of a 1944 boat under restoration… Finally, he eagerly showed us the progress on the boat’s repair and shared, “One day, I will stop making furniture and start building boats. A boat represents movement—it belongs to the horizon.” The words hung in the air—a declaration, and the ultimate footnote to his design philosophy.

MORE PHOTOS