What defines this armchair is the refusal to treat the back and the arms as separate lines: the walnut starts as a wide, flattened crest at the top, narrows at shoulder height, turns forward into an armrest and merges into the carved seat frame at the front. Because the grain follows that turn, light and dark passages of walnut run the full length of the curve. The open gap left between the backrest and the seat lifts the frame visually, so it reads as a drawn line rather than a solid mass. Against that thin line the seat is deliberately plump: the honey leather version holds soft, lived-in creases across its surface, while the mustard woven version sits like a domed, rounded pad. The cabriole legs look shaped by the same hand, swelling at the knee and tapering to a small, rounded foot. A body that turns on itself this completely asks to be walked around, not pushed against a wall.