Hamish Renny: Interview with the In-House Craftsman

Hamish building furniture at Logie Timber

About Hamish

Originally trained in graphic design, Hamish found his way to woodworking through a desire to create something tangible, work he could feel in his hands rather than see on a screen. After retraining at the Chippendale School of Furniture and honing his craft in small workshops, he joined the Logie Timber team, where his thoughtful approach and quiet precision have become a hallmark of our furniture.

For Hamish, good craftsmanship is about accuracy, patience, and respect for the timber. He values collaboration and the chance to keep learning from others always refining, always improving. His tables have become something of a signature here: honest, beautifully made, and full of quiet detail.

Interview with Hamish

What first drew you to working with wood and how did that path lead you here, to Logie Timber?

I originally trained in graphic design, but I always found myself craving something more hands on something tangible that let me work with real materials. Sitting behind a screen never quite scratched that itch. So I retrained in woodworking, and from the first time I started shaping timber, it just clicked. I’ve worked in a few small workshops since then, and I’ve always been drawn to places where craft and community come together which is exactly what brought me to Logie Timber.

How did you first learn skills? Was there someone who really shaped how you think about making?

I did my formal training at the Chippendale School of Furniture in East Lothian, which gave me a great foundation in traditional techniques and design. But it was really when I started working full time in cabinetry with Angus and Mack that I learned my trade properly the kind of knowledge that only comes from time on the tools.

I wouldn’t say there’s just one person who shaped the way I work. It’s more that I’ve been lucky to learn alongside people from all over the world, each with their own style, approach, and way of thinking about timber. Seeing how others solve problems or express their craft has probably influenced me the most that sense of learning through shared experience

When you’re building a table or working on a piece, what’s going through your head? Are there small rituals or steps you always take?

I’ve always been taught to start by picturing the finished piece in my head to work backwards from that end result. Once I can clearly see what I’m trying to create, I start planning each step methodically, from the first cut to the final sanding. Of course, things often shift along the way a piece of timber might reveal a feature you didn’t expect, or a new idea might surface mid-build. But having that end goal in mind keeps me grounded in the process. It’s a rhythm that helps me focus, one step at a time

You’ve worked with so many Scottish species is there one that always speaks to you? Why?

Scottish timber is incredibly diverse even within a single species you can find so much variation in colour, texture, and character. Each type of wood has its own strengths and quirks, which is what makes working with it so interesting.

If I had to choose a favourite, it would probably be sycamore. There’s something understated about it the grain can be soft and subtle, but when it’s treated properly, it has a quiet beauty that really stands out. It’s a species that rewards patience and care, and I like that about it.

The tables you make have become a bit of a signature here. How has your approach to building them evolved? What details matter most to you now?

When I’m designing and building a table, the process itself is just as important as the finished piece. Over time, with each one I make, I’ve refined the way I work finding small improvements, better techniques, and more efficient ways to achieve precision. There’s always something to learn, always a detail that can be made cleaner or stronger.

What matters most to me now is that the craftsmanship is visible that when someone looks at the table, they can sense the care and thought that’s gone into it. It’s about that quiet level of detail that you might not notice at first, but that makes all the difference when you live with it

What does good craftsmanship mean to you?

Good craftsmanship, to me, is all about accuracy. It’s something that was instilled in me from the start the idea that precision isn’t just about measurement, but about respect for the material and the process. Every joint, every cut, every finish should feel intentional. Striving for that level of care is what drives me as a maker. It’s not about perfection, but about doing justice to the piece of timber in front of you.

How does working with locally grown timber change your relationship to what you make?

Working with locally grown and milled timber is far more satisfying than using material that’s come from somewhere unknown. There’s a real connection to place you understand where the wood has come from, how it’s been grown, and who’s handled it along the way. It feels more honest, more circular, like the way woodworking is meant to be. When you know the story behind the timber, the work takes on a different meaning

You’ve spent a lot of time working in the mill, side by side with the team, how does collaboration play a part in your work?

Collaboration has always been a big part of woodworking for me. No one ever stops learning in this trade, and working alongside other skilled people constantly challenges the way you think and make. Everyone has their own way of approaching a problem or shaping a design, and being open to those different methods is what helps you grow. At the mill, that sense of shared knowledge and teamwork is a huge part of what makes the work so rewarding

Looking back on your journey so far, what’s one lesson or moment that’s stuck with you?

I’ve learned not to be too precious about how I think something should be made. Early on, I used to hold tightly to my own way of doing things, but over time I’ve realised that good ideas can come from anywhere. Sometimes someone with less experience will spot something I’ve overlooked or approach a task with fresh eyes. Leaving your ego at the door is important it’s how you keep growing as a maker and as part of a team.

What do you hope people feel when they see or use one of your pieces?

I hope that when someone sees or uses one of my pieces, they can feel that it’s more than just a manufactured object. I want them to sense the time, care, and consideration that’s gone into it, the small decisions and details that you can only get from something made by hand. For me, a good piece of furniture should have a certain presence, a kind of honesty that reflects the person who built it and the timber it came from.