Wisdom is a rare thing. We mine our lives for it the way miners dig for gold, seeking it in books, meditation, and even spiritual celebrities like Eckhart Tolle. Which is why I never expected to find it across the world in Chiang Mai, Thailand’s northern city.
I am here to learn how they find and create the furniture we love, so that I can share it with you. But I have another reason of my own, for taking this trip: to understand what Artemano's founders mean when they speak of the magic of Artemano. I'm a little skeptical - yes, Artemano's ommm-filled showrooms are definitely magical, but magic is not something I associate with furniture manufacturing.
Artemano’s operations here in Thailand depend heavily on their local broker, a petite woman named Bai.“She’s like a second mother – before we ask for something, she already knows what we need, and it’s prepared”, Eyal (Artemano’s co-founder) told me before I left.
Bai is not just their broker, she’s their eyes on the ground and on the wood. She has the final word in quality control - and every word in between from the moment a piece of wood is chosen to the moment it is loaded onto a shipping container, headed for Canada.
She’s also the finder of the best, biggest, plumpest lychees, which she buys for us in bagfuls on our long drives to visit suppliers.
I’m beginning to see that there is more to Bai than her professionalism. She is the kind of woman who will grab your hand to pull you away from the road if a truck is coming - and then readjust your hat, which you almost lost in the process – 5 minutes after meeting you.
Her attitude to life made an impression on me from the first conversation we had (about Buddhism, not wood): “Thai attend temple every full moon to get better karma but I believe that good or bad is what is in your mind – you not good only because you go to temple. We do not know what come after death – we must make our heaven now.“
Her job is to be the bridge between Artemano’s needs and those of their suppliers, and also between our culture and hers. I was surprised and glad – no, thrilled - to see this Thai woman in such a powerful role. When I asked her how common this is in Thailand, she threw her head back and laughed, “We women make business, men stay home!”
Occasionally, being the bridge between two very different cultures puts her in difficult situations. Every time we visit a supplier, she tells him the name of the next supplier we’re going to visit, which sometimes makes negotiations tricky. “But why must you tell them where we are going next?” we ask. “Because this is Thai way: if I no say, I am lying – and I will get lost in my lies!” she answers.
The other day I asked her what she thought of the supplier we had just met, did she trust him? She held up one finger: “I trust everyone once, and there are 66 million people in Thailand, so they get once each!” she laughed. She means it, and her approach has served Artemano well, because the wood she sources becomes some of the most popular pieces they sell.
Watching Bai navigate our two very different cultures has made me realize that no matter how high quality the raw materials are and how good the craftsmanship is, there remains one other crucial ingredient necessary to making Artemano’s furniture: openness. Without the willingness to accept each other’s differences, there would be no Artemano - and therein lies at least some of the magic I was searching for.
As Bai would say: we must make our heaven now.
All images copyright Conteska Photography.