When Brazilian artist and designer Breno Caetano speaks about his work, movement is never far behind. Before he began shaping wood, he trained and performed as a dancer and circus artist, an experience that continues to inform every gesture he makes in the studio. “Shaping an object is also a movement dialogue with the material,” he says. “The gestures, the weight, the resistance, all these physical sensations influence the final form. I think that’s why my work often feels very tactile and dynamic, as if it keeps a memory of movement inside it.”

Breno was born in the Amazon region of Brazil and spent his early years close to the forest and its rhythms. That early contact with nature shaped his sense of material and movement, both of which remain central to his work. Later, his path took him through France, Germany, Israel, and Japan, before he chose to settle in Brussels, where he founded Uta Studio. “After living in so many places, I truly believe that we are shaped by all our experiences,” he says. “Europe influences my work, but I remain very conscious of the importance of decentralising my references and inspirations.”

Uta Studio emerged during the quiet of the pandemic. What began as a moment of reflection became a new way of living and creating. “As a performer, I was always interested in togetherness, in how we live together,” Breno explains. “When everything felt broken, that question became urgent. I wanted to take a first gesture toward repair, to rebuild my ethics of work. Uta Studio was born from that impulse.”

Today, his pieces move fluidly between design and sculpture, between craft and gesture. “The values I give to my practice lie in the importance of not only creating, but also being a host to my surroundings,” he says. “I shape sculpture that can be a place of gathering, generating memories, cultivating relationships with the object.”

Working mostly with wood, Breno treats it not as a material to be controlled but as a partner. “Wood is living,” he says. “It carries memory, time, and transformation within it. When I work with it, it feels like entering into a dialogue rather than trying to control it. Each piece has its own character, its density, its smell. Working with it becomes almost a form of listening.”

That sensitivity guided the table he created for Claroscuro, a piece born from an old, cracked slab of wood the gallery had wanted to save. “When I first saw it, I was drawn to its imperfections,” he recalls. “Restoration, for me, is not about erasing traces, but finding a way to make them part of the story.” Using traditional Japanese joinery techniques and resin to stabilise the cracks, he carefully reinforced the structure without losing its organic lines. “The process was slow and intuitive,” he says. “The final table still carries its history, but it also holds a renewed energy, as if the act of repair became part of its identity.”

The table’s legs are finished with Japanese ink, a choice that deepens rather than conceals. “It allows the wood to breathe,” Breno says. “The ink interacts with the fibres of the wood in an organic way. Since I used Japanese joinery, it made sense to finish it with Japanese ink, keeping a sense of coherence.”

This dialogue between material, process, and philosophy extends into his Urushicum series, a body of sculptural works that unite Japanese Urushi lacquer and Urucum pigment from the Amazon. “When I first discovered Urushi in Japan, I was struck by its deep connection to Urucum,” he explains. “Instantly, I felt a link and began exploring how these two techniques could be brought into dialogue. It’s very important to me to respect their origins and avoid appropriation. I try to reinterpret them thoughtfully, creating a space where different traditions can coexist without losing their integrity.”

For Breno, the slow layering of Urushi is more than a technique, it is a form of contemplation. “It’s almost meditative,” he says. “The layers, the time, the patience, they shape not only the object, but me as I work.”

What he ultimately hopes people take from his work is simple yet profound. “I hope they feel a sense of presence and connection,” he says. “That my objects hold memory and trace. That they invite interaction and reflection. They are meant to create moments of gathering and generate memories. Through them, people can experience a world that is less linear and more playful, one that allows them to explore beyond ordinary functionality.”

Uta Studio: Exploring the Physical Language of Wood

Arne Jacobsen: Master of Architecture, Design and Integration