Paris. Copenhagen. Milan.
In 1950, workshops across Europe began creating furniture that would define the century.
Jean Prouvé folded steel like paper. Pierre Chapo celebrated every knot in solid elm. Charlotte Perriand blurred the line between indoor and outdoor.
These weren't decorators. They were architects, engineers, poets of utility.
LIGNE 1950 curates the masterworks — not as museum relics, but as living furniture for people who understand that minimalism isn't cold, brutalism isn't harsh, and rustique isn't primitive.
Line as gesture: a seam of wood, the horizon of a seat, the draft of a profile — the subtle direction that turns a shape into a statement.
"What does a chair owe the human body? What does a table owe Sunday dinner?"