Above Cronulla Beach, there is a penthouse bar overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
The room faces east. Morning light fills it. The ocean stretches beyond the glass. Along one wall sits a custom bar. Behind it, a feature wall made from more than five hundred reclaimed timber tiles.
Five hundred and seventy, to be exact.
At first glance it looks simple.
A collection of timber squares arranged across a wall.
But like most things we make, the story begins long before the finished piece.
The timber came from across New South Wales. Old structures. Farm fencing. Posts and beams that had spent decades, and in some cases more than a century, quietly doing their job.
Jarrah.
Blue Gum.
Spotted Gum.
Blackbutt.
Silky Oak.
Five Australian hardwoods carrying different colours, textures and histories.
Timbers that had already lived a life.
For this project, each piece was transformed into a 90mm x 90mm end-grain tile.
End grain reveals the growth rings of a tree. The record of every season, every drought, every year the tree stood before becoming timber.
It is one of the most beautiful surfaces timber can offer.
But it takes work to reveal it properly.
Every post was de-nailed by hand. Cut into workable sections. Milled square. Cross-cut into tiles. Sanded. Edges routed. Sanded again. Oiled twice. Then sorted.
Hundreds of times over.
By the time we finished, more than seven hundred tiles had passed through our hands.
What came next was surprisingly important.
The wall wasn't designed to be random.
It wasn't designed to be a pattern either.
We wanted something in between. What we wouldn't know is what volume of different tones we'd have until it was done and at that point we'd need to plan with accuracy.
The room changes dramatically throughout the day as light moves across the ocean and into the apartment. We wanted the wall to respond to that light rather than compete with it.
The darker tones would sit toward one side of the wall. The lighter tones toward the other. Between them, a gradual drift through seven distinct tonal groups.
Not a gradient.
Not a pattern.
Something more natural.
Something you feel rather than notice.
Traditionally, a wall like this would be laid out by eye.
Tile after tile.
Decision after decision.
For this project, we took a different approach.
Working with AI, we built a custom planning tool that allowed us to map every tile position before installation began. The system understood the dimensions of the wall, the quantity of tiles available in each tonal group and the visual outcome we were trying to achieve.
The result wasn't the design.
It was clarity.
A way to ensure that every decision had already been considered before the first tile touched the wall.
This is something we've become increasingly interested in.
Not replacing craftsmanship with technology.
Supporting craftsmanship with better systems.
The timber is still recovered by hand.
The tiles are still milled by hand.
The sanding, oiling, sorting and installation still require patience, judgement and care.
The technology simply allows us to be more deliberate about the outcome.
To consider more possibilities.
To reduce chance where it doesn't serve the work.
When the final tile was installed, the wall became what it was always meant to be.
Part of the room.
Not the centre of attention.
Not a statement piece demanding recognition.
Just something that feels right.
A wall that quietly anchors the space.
A wall made from materials that have already spent decades holding things together.
This project is a reminder that reclaimed materials don't need to look reclaimed.
They don't need to announce where they came from.
Sometimes the greatest act of care is allowing a material to continue its story without drawing attention to itself.
Five hundred and seventy tiles.
Four reclaimed hardwood species.
Countless hours of work.
One wall. Arguably the best in Sydney.
Made With Care.