Creative career stories: Furniture maker, Moe Redish
Born in Brighton and based in South East London, Moe Redish is an artist, designer and maker who works in wood and glass. As an advocate for sustainable craft, Moe has used locally-sourced materials to create work for the likes of the London Design Festival and the V&A. This is his story…
A disrupted education
I had a somewhat disrupted education due to economic struggles, leading to stints of homelessness in the temporary housing system before eventually finding long-term council housing with my mother and siblings. I left school with a few GCSEs in creative subjects such as music and food tech. Without “essential” GCSEs like Maths and English, I picked a career out of a metaphorical builder’s hat of trades. Lucky for me, carpentry was my choice, which I enjoyed and aspired to take further into finer crafts.
The school I attended specialised in performing arts and I was encouraged to be involved I music. This helped me get through school and gave me something to focus my energy on, which I had regularly struggled with. My family have always been incredibly supportive of my creativity too; music and performance are especially prominent on my dad’s side. Even with all of this encouragement, I didn’t find my way into art and design until later in life.
Moving to London
After school, I went to college, but this was short-lived due to a change in circumstances requiring me to support myself. I left the course partially completed and began a job installing communications equipment. I’d never planned to attend university. It wasn’t a common thing in my family, and, with half a college qualification and a few GCSEs, I hadn’t thought I’d be considered.
After being persuaded by a friend, I decided to apply to London Metropolitan’s furniture and product course through clearing. I was accepted as a mature student and started two weeks later. The course was brilliant! I broadened my skills in woodwork as I had wanted to do for years and found opportunities to begin exhibiting my work outside of university, setting me well on my way to where I am today.
Switching things up
I left university four years ago and have been working as a furniture maker ever since. I have recently changed how I work due to a blood circulation problem with my hands, which means I have to reduce my use of vibrating machinery and tools. I now work part-time as a technician and tutor at Goldsmiths on their design course and part-time designing furniture for Sebastian Cox.
In these roles, I work with a broader range of materials and machinery, including metalwork, CNC, laser cutters and 3D printers. It’s exciting, but I do miss working with wood full-time. The advantage of having less time to work with wood is that it has helped steer the direction of my personal work. I’m not making as much, but the things that I am making are more appropriate to what I want to do.
Working class representation
Before COVID, I had been working for myself full-time and sharing a studio with some other creatives. When the pandemic hit, I was unable to get government support because I hadn’t been self-employed for long enough to apply for the funding they offered, so I had to shut up shop. The pandemic and lockdown had such a financial impact on me - it was the final straw which meant I had to find some work which was more secure.
“Not a lot of working-class makers have the opportunity to be prominent in the industry. ”
- Moe Redish
Most of my motivation to push through the barriers of this industry comes from the lack of representation of lower-income creatives in design and arts practices. When those hardships hit, you don’t have anything to fall back on, and that is why there is a lack of working-class artists and designers. Not a lot of working-class makers have the opportunity to be prominent in the industry.
I recently read an article by The Guardian about how there had been a huge decline in working-class people in the arts in recent years. When you read statistics like the ones in this article, you can take it one of two ways: you can see it as meaning you have no chance, or you can use it as inspiration to prove a point and show that you can make it. I chose the second option.
Find a way to remain inspired
Surround yourself with people in a similar boat to you who can empathise with your situation. Connecting with creatives who have had similar experiences to yourself is a great way to remain inspired. When I first discovered Working Class Creatives Database, for example, I was amazed by how many people there were who were in the same position as me. It feels supportive just to know that there are people who understand and that you are included within that community.