“Typically you start sketching to find out what something should look like, and then you follow with the development and construction process,” says Dutch designer Rick Tegelaar, “but for me, it’s the other way around.” His process starts with materials—a hands-on approach that took hold thanks to a childhood spent tinkering in the family garage. That material-first thinking has since shaped a practice known for transforming ordinary and often overlooked materials into unexpected forms.
Born in the Netherlands, Tegelaar was just 16 when his father’s untimely death coincided with high school graduation. Rather than following a traditional academic trajectory, he enrolled in vocational school, immersing himself in metalworking while mastering lathes, milling machines, welding, and other fabrication techniques.
Photography courtesy of Rick Tegelaar
When he became frustrated by the program’s rigid, rule-bound approach, he switched to industrial design, a discipline he immediately embraced. In 2007, Tegelaar enrolled at ArtEZ University of the Arts, a Dutch school that was, in his words, “very creative and had an art academy kind of vibe.”
“Suddenly I wasn’t just learning how to manufacture something,” Tegelaar explains. “I was asking why products exist and how they should function.” Among his most influential mentors was Dutch sculptor and furniture designer Wilma Sommers. She passed away in 2011, shortly after he finished the program, but her influence endured. “She taught me to be brutally honest and to become a lateral thinker,” he says.
Photography courtesy of Rick Tegelaar
During that time, Tegelaar continued experimenting with humble materials such as lumber, paper, and chicken wire, exploring how they could be manipulated into something entirely new.
Of his explorations with wire mesh, Tegelaar says: “It’s typically a material with no meaning within the design context, so one of the hardest things was shaping it in a very controlled way. If you succeed, it becomes beautiful: rhythmic and even. But if you don’t, it immediately starts to feel like a craft project. There’s a real tension between those two outcomes.”
Meshmatics Chandelier by Rick Tegelaar for Moooi. Photography courtesy of Moooi.
Tegelaar’s perseverance led him to develop a custom machine and specialized tools that enabled him to produce consistent forms. By stretching metal mesh over a mold instead of pressing it, he discovered a technique that produced an elegant silhouette capable of emitting ambient light. This breakthrough laid the foundation for his self-produced Meshmatics lighting series, which generated enough income to sustain his practice.
Photography courtesy of Moooi
This series caught the attention of Moooi, the Dutch design brand founded by Marcel Wanders and Casper Vissers in 2001. At Downtown Design in Dubai in 2016, Tegelaar exhibited both his Filigree Floor Lamp—which was already being developed with Moooi—and the experimental wire-mesh chandelier that would become Meshmatics. His booth, coincidentally positioned next to Marcel Wanders’, caught the Moooi co-founder’s eye, and the Meshmatics prototype soon became Tegelaar’s second product manufactured and distributed by the brand.
Photography courtesy of Moooi
“I had been making the Meshmatics myself, and that brought so much energy into the studio,” Tegelaar recalls, describing how deliveries arrived, machines hummed, and production maintained a constant momentum. “It was always about making, and that was good for my creativity. Then, all of a sudden, that was gone. So I was in the studio, by myself, not producing, trying to come up with new ideas.”
He pursued several new projects, including collaborations with Italian companies and a handful of site-specific commissions, but none gained significant traction. Then the pandemic brought everything to a halt.
Tabby, a modular LED design by Rick Tegelaar. Courtesy of Rick Tegelaar.
Like many, Tegelaar assumed the lockdown would be brief. Rather than viewing the disruption as a setback, he embraced it as an opportunity, envisioning an electric blanket while experimenting with circuitry and LEDs. But as suppliers shut down and parts became scarce, the project stalled. Never one to give up, he turned to plywood and wire, the materials at hand, and developed an oversized woven structure that incorporated LEDs.
“By scaling up the weave dramatically, I discovered that each intersection naturally created a pocket where an LED could fit. In an afternoon, I had the essential principle worked out,” Tegelaar says of the experiment that eventually became Tabby.
Photography by Ronald Smits
Again, he constructed a custom machine to automate the repetitive work while preserving the handcrafted quality. After most lighting companies rejected the prototype, he nearly abandoned the project.
“Instead, I exhibited it at Big Art in Amsterdam, deciding that if people responded well, I’d continue,” Tegelaar remembers. “If not, I’d move on.” The response was immediate. Within the first hour, he sold several pieces.
“In many ways, Tabby brought me back to where I had started,” says Tegelaar, whose Tabby woven lights have since been installed in LVMH flagship stores around the globe. This spring, the lights, along with new pieces, including Traces, were showcased during Milan Design Week as part of his Oasis installation.
Traces, on display with Tabby, both by Rick Tegelaar, at Milan Design Week. Photography courtesy of Rick Tegelaar.
The future continues to look bright with new projects underway with British contemporary design brand Established & Sons (under the creative direction of Vissers), Venetian glassmaker Barovier & Toso, and extensions of the Meshmatics collection for Moooi. Despite the growth in opportunities, Tegelaar still finds his hands-on approach works best.
“Making isn’t part of my practice,” he says. “It is my practice.”
