Dernière mise à jour : il y a 59 minutes
Studio Notes · 4 Min Read
Growing up in Luxembourg before studying and working between Paris and Milan meant learning early how different worlds can coexist:
a small country and large cities, local traditions and luxury industries, acceleration and stillness. Movement became part of my education, exposing me to different cultures, relationships to beauty, approaches to craftsmanship and ways of living.
"Like many creative paths, mine was not entirely linear. Leaving home opened new perspectives. It expanded my references, challenged assumptions and gave me the privilege of learning within very different creative environments and international industries. "
Yet distance has a curious way of changing how we see where we come from. Over time, leaving strengthened something I had not necessarily expected: a deeper connection to origin — to language, craft, cultural identity and place.
When I returned to Luxembourg after years abroad, I began to look differently at creation and at the responsibility that comes with it. Not only the responsibility towards what we make, but how we make it, where it comes from, and what we choose to sustain through the process.
Today, choosing a production partner is therefore never simply a logistical decision. It is also a cultural and human one. Producing consciously can encourage more thoughtful patterns of consumption, but its significance goes further. It can help preserve know-how, sustain creative ecosystems and maintain a human connection within production itself. In an increasingly industrialised world, where objects can easily become detached from the people and places that made them, origin becomes part of their story.
This belief has naturally shaped the development of Lea Schroeder studio. Many of our prototypes are still developed by hand in the Luxembourg studio, allowing ideas to evolve through material, gesture and experimentation before entering production. Collections are given time to develop. Permanent pieces coexist with made-to-order creations and carefully considered yearly editions, favouring a slower and more intentional rhythm of creation.
Craftsmanship and traceability, in this sense, are more than attributes attached to a finished object. They are commitments to transmission, material understanding and the preservation of knowledge that might otherwise gradually disappear. They are also a way of supporting the workshops, makers and creative ecosystems that continue to carry these traditions forward.
While creative development remains rooted in Luxembourg, production unfolds through carefully selected European partners whose expertise, values and artisanal excellence resonate with our own. Our silk scarves, for example, are made in a preserved atelier in the South of France, drawing on the heritage of Lyonnais silk craftsmanship. There is something particularly meaningful to me in this connection: textile design and ornamental storytelling formed part of my own creative language years before the studio took its present shape.
Jewellery opens another dialogue with place. Working with regions that carry strong material traditions and symbolic histories allows a collection to become part of a much longer conversation. Greece, with its mythology, ornamentation and visual heritage, has long nourished my artistic universe and naturally resonates with this approach.
For us, conscious production does not necessarily mean producing everything within the smallest possible geographical radius. Proximity can also be found in values: in human-scale production, craftsmanship, traceability, material integrity and a shared intention to create objects that are made to endure.
Luxembourg itself offers an interesting ground from which to explore these connections. Its scale and openness make it possible to build bridges between contemporary design and craftsmanship, local identity and international dialogue, cultural heritage and new forms of creation. Through collaborations with institutions, ministries, embassies, exhibitions and cultural actors, another conviction has gradually become central to the studio: design can be a cultural language.
Objects can carry stories beyond borders.
They can give form to values and create visibility for contemporary creation emerging from places that may otherwise remain less represented internationally. This is also why creative communities matter. Spaces where artists, designers, craftspeople and cultural actors meet and exchange can become fertile grounds for new ideas and new creative ecosystems — not in opposition to a global world, but in active dialogue with it.
Perhaps building from where we come from is not really about looking backwards. It is about understanding what is worth carrying forward: the places that formed us, the knowledge passed from one hand to another, the cultures that shaped our way of seeing and the encounters that continue to expand it.
To build with awareness of where we come from, while remaining curious about where we might go next.
To build slowly. Consciously. With roots deep enough to grow outward.