Designer Spotlight - MSDS STUDIO

For Jessica Nakanishi and Jonathan Sabine, design is both a craft and a conversation—a constant negotiation between material, culture, and intent. With backgrounds in interior architecture and furniture making respectively, the Toronto-based duo met through shared interests in music, material culture, and the nuances of living between places. “All of these things influence our practice,” they explain. “Our work has developed along those lines—characterized by curiosity, resourcefulness, and heterogeneity.”

Their approach to design is rooted in observation. They see it not as an abstract pursuit, but as a form of labor—one that has evolved from the instincts of makers to the systemized world of industrial production. “The designer is an uneasy element in the system of production,” Jonathan reflects. “We merge its objective needs with our own authorial motives.” This tension—between function and authorship, pragmatism and poetry—defines much of MSDS Studio’s work.

Over time, their process has become a way of materializing their worldview. “With experience, you develop better instincts,” they note. “Both about what will or won’t work, and about clarity and intent.” For MSDS, design is less about adhering to a fixed philosophy than refining a method: to create things that are “smart, but not so smart they’re not beautiful.” Their best work, they believe, carries a lightness—a balance between wit and restraint, intellect and intuition.

This sense of balance extends into their daily life. Their home, an evolving mix of plants, second-hand finds, and avant-garde design, is designed for both comfort and openness—a space where work and play naturally intertwine. The dining table at its heart, designed by them and built by a friend, perfectly captures their values: solid oak, refined yet generous, built to outlast them.

Inspiration often strikes in the most ordinary of places. The duo keeps a shared folder of images—wheelbarrow joints, street hardware, unintentional material pairings—that reveal how beauty often hides in practical connections. Outside of work, they find grounding in movement: gardening, cycling, pilates, and boxing. “Design is so cerebral,” they admit. “Exercise keeps us connected to our bodies—it’s an essential part of our lives and our practice.”

They recall the Montreal Insectarium as a particularly meaningful space—“good architecture and a breathtaking collection of insects from around the world.” It’s a fitting reference for a studio that finds wonder in structure and variation, in systems that are both intricate and alive. And sometimes, their son offers the kind of perspective that design itself reaches for: “The other day,” they laugh, “he asked why, if nothing in the world is perfect, is there a word for it?”