A born entertainer through and through! That’s the first impression when you meet Joe Sayegh. This son of antique dealers, who became an antique dealer himself, has lived many lives before becoming the renowned “creator‑traveler” he calls himself. Passionate about wood and the furniture and objects that bring our interiors to life, Joe is a sharp, lively, and creative personality who brings substance to his work.
You describe yourself as a creator‑traveler. How did your passion for wood start, and how did it all begin?
Joe Sayegh: It all began very early. I bought my first 18th‑century chest of drawers at nine years old and followed in my parents’ footsteps—they were antique dealers. I loved the trade from the start. Gradually, I began building houses using reclaimed materials: flooring, fireplaces… At first, it was for my own pleasure, but due to people’s interest in such products, I became a maker of wide, aged flooring and parquet matching those sold by antique dealers. Over time, I stopped dealing in antiques and started decorating.
Why this transition—what was the trigger?
J.S.: Quite simply, about 20–25 years ago at a Maison & Objet trade fair, I realized that the profession I loved most in the world—that of an antique dealer—was over. I then turned to decoration. I now design and create everything, and today I have retailers across France and Europe.
From your antiquarian past you retained a love for wood, but do you work with other materials?
J.S.: Yes, I work with other materials, but wood is still my domain! Even though we're always learning, I know wood very well. I actually own a sawmill in the Orne region to ensure the best supply. We process very large logs—sections of trunk with their natural round shape—that most industrial players can’t handle.
What do you mean exactly?
J.S.: Industrial firms don't have the trucks or machinery suited to transport and process an oak over 200 years old. At 100 years old with a diameter of 50–70 cm, it’s already a beautiful oak for industry. But anything even bigger is impossible to extract or process industrially.
And you manage to work with them?
J.S.: Of course! I have an extraordinary team. We’ve equipped ourselves to extract logs from the forest and then process them. Fun fact: I currently have 600 m² of oak stock aged between 200 and 300 years, initially intended for the Notre‑Dame restoration. Logged in the forest of Poncé‑sur‑le‑Loir (72) at the request of the Monuments Historiques, they were ultimately rejected over a knot no larger than a 50‑cent coin on a magnificent tree. Keep in mind: these are extraordinary oaks over 30–35 m tall, planted under Louis XIV for shipbuilding. To me, it's unthinkable not to honor and valorize these majestic trees.
These are precisely the natural beauties that only wood can offer... And you work them with all their “imperfections” intact?
J.S.: Yes, absolutely—that’s exactly what I love. Unlike the Nordic market where they want no knots and only flawless, uniform wood, I adore the English market. They celebrate sapwood, pinholes, marks, cat’s paws… And that’s fabulous. They use wood for its character.
What will you do with those oaks rejected for Notre‑Dame?
J.S.: One of the pillars of my craft is transformation and enhancement. One of those rejected oaks has become a sumptuous, monumental 18‑meter-long table. It will soon be delivered to a magnificent hotel in Ibiza.
Who are your clients, by the way?
J.S.: I work exclusively with professionals. I often oversee complete décor for restaurants and hotels. For example, I’ve worked on hotels like Cheval Blanc, the Hôtel des Neiges in Courchevel, and the 1 Hotel in Miami Beach... I also now offer my aesthetic universe for rent through the company Joe Sayegh Events, providing short‑term and long‑term rentals. Long‑term rentals target hotels and restaurants. For short events—weddings, fashion shows, or other ephemeral occasions—you can rent tables, chairs, and full ambiences.
You work exclusively with professionals—but can private individuals access your collections?
J.S.: Absolutely! I recently launched Joe Sayegh Vintage for the public. It offers capsule collections—final pieces from my previous collections—as well as second‑life items returned from rentals. At the end of a rental period, all furniture and objects go through my workshops for inspection, renovation, and resale at reduced prices. Like an antique dealer restoring a piece before re‑selling it. It’s a way to reconnect with my early passions while staying true to my values of more responsible consumption.
Today Joe Sayegh is a global brand. It seems you also work with exotic woods…
J.S.: Yes, I work extensively in Indonesia where I manufacture recycled teak furniture and tableware. We don’t cut down any trees! We recover reclaimed wood from construction projects (houses, bridges, boats) and roots known as “pig tails.” On a 20‑meter-high teak, they leave two meters with the root, resembling a pig’s tail. We buy these, mill them, sort them, dry them in kilns, then refine them. Now more than ever, resources must be preserved. We also reclaim all industrial offcuts due to imperfections. It’s in my DNA to see beauty in imperfections and turn them into artistic or everyday objects. In short: we throw nothing away!
Do you ship to clients from Asia?
J.S.: No. Once products are crafted, they arrive unfinished at my workshops in Bérou‑la‑Mulotière (28) for final quality control, finishing, and patination.
Is there a wood species you especially prefer?
J.S.: I love oak—I’m an oak lover. It’s extremely hard to work with, but you can do anything with oak. I sand it to showcase it, brush it, and apply my own varnishes. In the end, the oak appears raw, in its natural state.
You can't avoid our ritual question—what’s your definition of the art of living?
J.S.: Good food! I’m an epicurean, so I love eating. I enjoy setting beautiful tables—even for a sandwich! In fact, Covid was one of the most extraordinary times of my life because I had the chance to host great chefs who couldn’t work otherwise, and they prepared extraordinary dishes for me. I specifically remember a fabulous—and yet simple—rolled omelette that I still haven’t been able to reproduce (laughs).
