Ieva Gudelaityte
Ieva works with salt because salt remembers things. Ritual, protection, history. She builds from there, slowly, with materials she develops herself, toward something that feels both very old and very now.
The material, the imperfection
What does handmade mean to you?
Mostly it's about the material. And the imperfection. The irregularities in a texture are what I find truly enchanting; I can study them for hours. Something made by hand feels almost alive. I think, a little romantically maybe, that we leave a piece of ourselves in the things we make.
How do you choose your materials?
I mainly make furniture, so functionality is my priority. I judge a material by how long it lasts, how strong it is, and how it feels to touch. Aesthetics come after all of that. Though they matter too, of course.
What do you wear in your studio?
Something warm. Something I'm not afraid to ruin. Worn-in pieces in natural materials, mostly things that have already lived a little.
Two hours before work
What does your morning look like?
I am completely a morning person. I wake up at least two hours before work, move my body a little, and have a slow breakfast with coffee. I walk to the studio. That walk does something for me. It loosens things up.
Is slowness a choice for you, or just how the process goes?
I think it's just how the process goes, honestly. Sometimes I wish it were faster, from idea to finished object. But the quality would suffer. Slowness keeps me grounded. It makes space for intuition, for searching, for finding the right form or texture without rushing past it.
Which material feels the most personal to you?
Leather and linen.
Leather feels strong, durable, slightly bold. It carries presence. But linen is the most intimate. It exists in the closest spaces around us. Curtains that create privacy. Bedding where rest and vulnerability meet. Linen feels honest. It breathes. It softens over time. The more you live with it, the more beautiful it becomes.
Sometimes beautiful, sometimes not
Describe your creative space in one word.
Multilayered.
Sometimes it's beautiful, and I love being in it. Sometimes it's a place I avoid and have to force myself to return to. Slowness helps me stay sensitive in both cases. To notice the small things. To hear myself. Without that, I don't think the work is really possible.
A living form
What does beauty mean to you in everyday life?
Beauty is a feeling, not an image. If something can lift you or move you, that's beauty. It's alive. It touches you. That's all it needs to do.
Ieva graduated from Vilnius Arts Academy in 2023 and interned at Elisa Lacoste Studio in France. Her work explores the body, material, and the slow art of making things from scratch.
