The Nakashima Legacy: Where Wood Becomes Art and Family Becomes Tradition
A Personal Connection to Timber
Walking through the woodpile at Nakashima Woodworkers isn’t just a tour of raw materials—it’s a journey through relationships and memories. For Mira Nakashima, each piece of timber holds a story, a connection that goes far beyond business transactions. As she pauses beside a particularly stunning board that’s been sold, there’s a bittersweet tone in her voice: “It’s really nice that it sold. And I know the client. And I know it’ll have a good home. But these boards have been here for so long, and I sort of get attached to them.” This sentiment perfectly captures the philosophy that has defined Nakashima Woodworkers for generations—furniture isn’t just about function or even aesthetics; it’s about forming deep, meaningful connections between people, nature, and craftsmanship. Growing up on the grounds of the family business in New Hope, Pennsylvania, Mira absorbed this philosophy from childhood, watching her father, the legendary George Nakashima, build not just furniture but an entire legacy with his own two hands. The family home itself stands as testament to his dedication—constructed by George himself out of necessity, as he couldn’t afford to hire builders during those early, challenging years.
The Philosophy of Timeless Design
George Nakashima, who lived from 1905 to 1990, earned his place as one of the giants of 20th-century furniture design and became a pioneering leader of the American craft movement. His approach to design was revolutionary in its simplicity and respect for natural materials. As Mira recalls her father’s words: “You create a good design, it should be a design forever. You shouldn’t have to change it just because it’s a different year or a different style or a different fashion that’s going on at the time.” This philosophy stood in stark contrast to the throwaway culture and planned obsolescence that began dominating consumer goods in the mid-20th century. When CBS Sunday Morning first visited George in 1989, just a year before his passing, he articulated his core belief: “My feeling about a fine piece of timber is that it should be realized to its fullest possibility and beauty.” His designs became famous for embracing nature exactly as it presented itself—imperfections, irregularities, and all. The knots, cracks, and natural edges that other craftspeople might have considered flaws became signature elements in Nakashima’s work. When asked whether the wood or the woodworker takes the lead in creating these pieces, Mira’s answer reveals the collaborative nature of their craft: “It’s a collaboration. There are little nuances that happen. Sometimes there’s knots, and sometimes there’s knotholes, and sometimes there’s cracks that need butterflies. So, you go with the flow.”
A Path Forged Through Adversity
The story of Nakashima Woodworkers, like the natural edges of their furniture, hasn’t followed a straight line. Born in 1905 in the Pacific Northwest, George Nakashima seemed destined for greatness in architecture. He studied at the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology and trained with luminaries around the world, building an impressive foundation for what should have been a straightforward career in architectural design. However, history intervened in the most painful way possible. In 1942, George and his young family were forcibly relocated to an internment camp in Idaho, part of the shameful chapter in American history when 120,000 Japanese-Americans were imprisoned during World War II. Mira was just six weeks old when her family’s life was upended. Yet it was in this dark period, stripped of resources and opportunity, that George Nakashima discovered his true calling. Unable to practice architecture and needing to provide for his family’s basic needs, he retrained himself to handcraft furniture using whatever materials were available—leftover construction scraps, packing crates, anything he could find. This forced simplicity and resourcefulness would later inform his design philosophy, teaching him to see the potential in materials others dismissed as worthless. After their release from internment, the Nakashima family relocated to Pennsylvania, where they literally built their future from the ground up. “We didn’t have a place to live, so we lived in this army tent for several months,” Mira remembered, painting a picture of the humble beginnings from which an empire would rise. Out of the surrounding woods, the family constructed a complex that today stands as a national historic landmark—a physical manifestation of resilience, creativity, and the transformative power of craft.
Carrying the Torch Through Uncertainty
After graduating from Harvard and starting her own family, Mira began working full-time at Nakashima Woodworkers in 1970, apprenticing under her father for twenty years until his death in 1990. The transition of leadership brought challenges that threatened the very existence of the business. “We were very concerned that the business would not survive,” Mira admitted, describing a period of genuine uncertainty. The situation was indeed scary—many clients, who had ordered pieces specifically because they would bear George Nakashima’s signature, canceled their orders when he was no longer alive to sign them. The name that had built the business suddenly seemed like it might also mark its end. But Mira possessed the same determination and resilience her father had shown when rebuilding his life after internment. She pressed forward, continuing to produce furniture from her father’s iconic designs while gradually introducing her own creations into the collection. Asked if she worried about her designs being compared to her father’s legendary work, she laughed with the confidence of someone who has made peace with a challenging legacy: “Well, if you worry about it, you wouldn’t do it!” Her approach proved successful, and the business not only survived but flourished, finding new audiences while maintaining the core principles her father had established. The work continues much as it did in George’s day, even down to the sources of their primary material—undesirable walnut trees that other people don’t want.
The Spiritual Practice of Patience
“Dad used to call himself a rag picker because, you know, people didn’t want their trees,” Mira explained, describing how George would acquire timber that commercial lumber operations rejected as unsuitable. “And then he would make something beautiful out of them. But it was also a spiritual thing for him, because he said he’s giving trees a second life.” This concept of resurrection and transformation lies at the heart of the Nakashima philosophy—taking what others discard and revealing the hidden beauty within. However, this transformation cannot be rushed. An average custom piece takes approximately a year to complete, a timeline that seems almost absurd in our age of next-day delivery and instant gratification. “Anybody who is used to instant gratification doesn’t come to Nakashima’s, or they have to develop a different way of thinking,” Mira said with a laugh, acknowledging that their customer base must share their values of patience and appreciation for the handcrafted process. The pieces aren’t accessible to everyone—prices start in the thousands of dollars and climb substantially from there—but these prices reflect the reality of true handcraftsmanship. Every piece is hand-drawn, hand-crafted by skilled artisans, hand-finished, and signed personally by Mira herself. In a world of mass production and algorithmic design, Nakashima Woodworkers stands as a proud anachronism, insisting that some things are worth waiting for and that quality transcends trends.
A Growing Family Tree
Today, the Nakashima legacy continues to grow with new branches. Among Mira’s small team of dedicated craftspeople is her grandson, Toshi, representing the fourth generation of furniture makers in the family. He jokes about the perks of working for his grandmother—”You give me tea and cookies and pie!”—but speaks more seriously about the privilege of his position: “I’m very lucky to, you know, always have been surrounded with beautiful work and beautiful furniture, and intelligent and smart and good craftsmen.” His presence ensures that the tree planted by George Nakashima eighty years ago continues to flourish and branch out into the future. For Mira, her father’s presence remains palpable in the workshop and wood storage buildings he constructed. “Whenever I go into one of the wood storages, I feel like he’s still here. He’s still watching us,” she said. When administrative challenges arise, the team asks themselves, “What would George do? Would he like this or not?” It’s a practice that keeps his philosophy alive while allowing the business to evolve with changing times. The Nakashima story is ultimately about more than furniture—it’s about resilience in the face of injustice, about finding beauty in imperfection, about the patience required to create something lasting, and about family legacy passed down not just through genetics but through shared values and dedication to craft. In their workshop in Pennsylvania, the Nakashimas continue to give trees their second life, creating furniture that will likely outlast all of us, carrying forward a philosophy that never goes out of style.
