Nayara Nascimento
When we found Nayara’s studio account, aeny studio, we were absolutely smitten with her sculptural objects and interesting designs. Nayara, who resides in Canada and is a native of Brazil, works predominantly with materials that would otherwise be discarded and develops them into soulful, emotive interior objects — bringing an elevated circularity design style that is both beautiful and inspiring. We had the pleasure of asking Nayara a few questions about her work and her journey. Meet Nayara.
Nayara Nascimento
DS: Nayara, thank you for taking the time to share your story with us. Tell us a bit about what you do, in your own words.
NN: Thank you! Of course. I'm Nayara Nascimento, the artist and designer behind aeny studio. I focus on creating sculptural furniture and functional objects with a personal and emotional resonance. While aeny officially started in 2020 as a part-time exploration, for the past year, it's been my full-time dedication.
DS: That’s exciting to shift into full-time, congratulations! How did you become interested in shifting your career into sculptural furniture?
NN: Well, my interest in sculptural furniture sparked in 2019 when I decided to make a plaster dining table for our home. That hands-on process ignited a fascination with form, weight, and texture I hadn't experienced in my interior design work. Simultaneously, I was becoming increasingly aware of the waste in the design industry, which led me to experiment with discarded materials. Given my long-standing interest in neurology and emotional processing, sculptural furniture became a powerful way to bridge the tangible and the intangible, allowing me to explore inner landscapes through outer forms.
DS: That is so beautifully said. It seems your path sort of unfolded naturally. You make an interesting point about the waste in the design industry. How do you think the industry as a whole can be more sustainable?
NN: I think for design to become truly sustainable, it needs a deeper shift—not just in materials, but in mindset. Right now, a lot of the conversation focuses on eco-friendly swaps or trends, but the real question is: why are we making so much, and for what purpose?
In my own work, I approach sustainability from the start of the process. I work slowly, by hand, using raw and often discarded materials like gypsum powder, cellulose fiber, and repurposed steel. I don’t use them to make a point about waste—I use them because they already exist in the world, and they still have something to offer. What I’m trying to do is give them form, presence, and care.
DS: Well said. At times, slow craftsmanship and the ‘made by hand’ approach seems to have been lost along the way. Combined with the general accumulation of stuff, its easy to see how consumption has become mindless with time.
NN: Sure. I think the industry needs to shift away from this cycle of endless production and focus more on creating fewer things with more meaning. Sustainability is about restraint. It’s about care—designing objects that last, that can be repaired, that people want to keep. It’s about context—understanding where materials come from, who the work is for, and what role it plays. And it’s about meaning—crafting objects that connect with people emotionally, that aren’t just useful or beautiful, but significant.
If we start designing from that place—care, context, and meaning—I think we’ll see a much more honest and sustainable future for design.
Nayara’s original design, the Eros Table.
DS: Absolutely. Now, for your work, what do you love the most about your job?
NN: What I love most about my job is that it allows me to make sense of things that can’t be put into words. I’m neurodivergent, and for a long time I struggled with feeling out of place—like I was wired differently and needed to hide it. Making art—especially sculptural, functional pieces—became a way to process all the complexity inside me. It’s where I feel fully present. When I’m creating, I’m not overthinking, I’m just being. There’s something really powerful in that kind of freedom.
It’s more than a job—it’s the one space where I don’t have to translate who I am.
DS: That is so lovely and so authentic, which I think shows through in your designs. What project of yours are you most proud of?
NN: The project I’m most proud of is my Untitled Series—a group of sculptural floor lamps I’ve been creating over the past year. Each one started during a moment when I felt emotionally disconnected, like I couldn’t put what I was feeling into words. Instead of trying to explain it, I let those emotions guide the shape and texture of the piece.
The lamps are made from a cellulose composite I developed in my studio, using materials like drywall remnants, repurposed steel, recycled bronze powder, and finished with Brazilian carnauba wax. I build each one slowly by hand, layer by layer, responding to what the form needs as it emerges.
What makes this series meaningful is that it helped me stop trying to make sense of everything. It taught me to stay with uncertainty and let the work lead. For me, these pieces aren’t just lights—they’re a way to hold complex emotions in physical form.
Untitled floor lamp from Nayara’s Untitled Series.
DS: Such a profound process, how fantastic. Tell us about your cultural background between Brazil and Canada, and any inluence that has had on your work.
NN: Growing up between Brazilian and Canadian cultures gave me a deep awareness of contrast—and I think that’s shaped everything I make. Canada taught me structure, minimalism, and restraint. Brazil gave me emotional intensity, a connection to nature, and a certain rawness that I’m always drawn to.
I was born in Brazil but raised mostly in Canada, and for a long time I didn’t feel fully connected to either place. It’s only recently, through my work, that I’ve started to reconnect with my Indigenous Brazilian roots. That rediscovery has been powerful. It’s shown me how deeply my sense of form, rhythm, and material already carried traces of that heritage, even before I understood it.
So I wouldn’t say my work is inspired by either culture in a direct or decorative way—it’s more that both are part of me. My pieces are often where those tensions meet: restraint and chaos, simplicity and complexity, structure and intuition. I think that’s what gives my work its language.
DS: So lovely to hear you found your place through your designs. It adds a layer of intangible meaning but is still visible in your work to the rest of us. Where do you find inspiration for your pieces?
NN: Inspiration often finds me when I’m not looking for it. But if I had to name three places it always seems to return from: Memory and emotion. Sometimes a shape comes to me before I even know what it means. It might be tied to a feeling I haven’t fully processed—a moment that stayed with me without words. Making helps me understand it. The form becomes a way to hold that feeling, to give it space. The materials themselves. I work with unconventional and reclaimed materials—broken pipes, pieces of drywall, metal scraps. I don’t force them into a shape. I let them speak. Often, the weight or texture of something will suggest a structure, and I follow that. It feels more like a conversation than a plan. Cultural and ancestral memory. I was born in Brazil, and reconnecting with my Indigenous heritage as an adult has deeply shaped how I see and feel the world. In many Native traditions, nature isn’t something separate—it’s part of how you understand time, memory, and meaning. I don’t reference that directly in my work, but I think that relationship to land lives in me. The forms I create often feel like they’ve grown from something—layered like soil, curved like riverbeds—even when I don’t set out with that intention. It’s a kind of remembering that happens through making.
The artist at work.
DS: What about in terms of travel, are there any places in the world you feel inspire your creative process and output?
NN: Belo Horizonte is where I was born, and I’ve gone back almost every year. It’s hard to even call it just a city—Brazil as a whole is so layered and alive. The people, the energy, the nature—there’s a lightness to life there that’s hard to find elsewhere. People care more about living than performing. It reminds me to slow down, to feel, to connect. Paris… well, Paris is Paris. It’s impossible to put into words, but I carry a deep fondness for it. The beauty, the detail, the atmosphere. I have memories there that shaped how I see aesthetics, presence, and even how people carry themselves. There’s a quiet power in how style and culture live in everyday life. And then Dubai—but not the city, the desert. That landscape was unforgettable. The way the wind shapes the sand, constantly in motion but somehow still grounded—that really stayed with me. It made me think about how form and nature are always in conversation.
DS: Lovely. And what about people, are there any particular people you find interesting?
NN: I’m most inspired by people who create from the inside out—who aren’t focused on controlling the outcome, but on listening and allowing something to emerge. That’s the kind of space I try to work from too. Carl Jung, for example, has been a quiet influence on me for years. His exploration of the unconscious, shadow, and symbolism made me realize that form doesn’t have to be explained to be meaningful—it can hold something deeper that the body understands even if the mind doesn’t. Rick Rubin, though from a completely different field, has a similar way of seeing. He talks about process in such an open and intuitive way. It reminds me that making doesn’t have to come from force—it can come from presence, from noticing, from surrender. I also feel deeply connected to people like Lina Bo Bardi and Isamu Noguchi. Bo Bardi’s sensitivity to place and people, and Noguchi’s emotional clarity through form, both show how much care and restraint can say.
What draws me to all of them isn’t style—it’s how they see. They trust something beyond the obvious, and they make space for what can’t always be explained.
DS: Great choices! So, for our aspiring creatives, do you have any tips or words of wisdom you’d like to share?
NN: Start before you feel ready. Don’t wait for clarity or permission—just begin. The process will shape you as much as you shape the work. And don’t be afraid to follow your instincts, even if they lead you somewhere unexpected. Some of the most meaningful pieces come from confusion, not certainty. Let yourself get lost. Let the materials talk back. You don’t have to know where you’re going to make something worth remembering.
DS: Bravo. Nayara, thank you so much for sharing your wisdom with us. Is there anything else you’d like to add before we wrap?
NN: Sure, thank you. Just to add that what matters most to me is that the work connects with people—not always in a way they can explain, but in a way they feel. I want people to see themselves in the shadows, the textures, the weight of the piece—even if just for a moment.
Find Nayara
Aeny Studio Website
