Sarah Naghawi's JAWF Steel Furniture Is Shaped by Hydraulic Pressure

Sarah Naghawi's JAWF collection looks like furniture caught halfway between a box and a balloon — and every bulge in its stainless-steel skin was produced by hydraulic pressure, not upholstery. The experimental collection debuted at Amman Design Week 2026, where the Jordanian designer presented pieces whose surfaces swell, dip and crease as if the metal itself had been squeezed.

The making process sits at the heart of the project. Naghawi uses hydromechanical forming: hydraulic fluid pressure is introduced into welded sheet assemblies, causing the steel to expand and deform permanently. In effect, pressure becomes the shaping tool, pushing flat stainless-steel sheets beyond their original condition and giving each object volume, depth and an interior space.

The name is literal. JAWF comes from an Arabic word referring to an inner chamber or protected cavity, and Naghawi treats that interior as a design starting point rather than a byproduct. The recesses suggest possibilities for storage and enclosure — a welcome emphasis in a category where sculptural furniture often demands admiration for its silhouette while leaving practical purpose unresolved.

What does the collection actually look like?

In the exhibition photographs, shot by ASPIRE Ali Saadi Photography, three forms carry the concept:

• A tall rectangular piece on slender, splayed legs, with three pronounced recesses stacked vertically across its face
• A horizontal piece stretched across angled supports, its upper surface rising and falling instead of settling into a flat plane
• A smaller stacked form that brings the same swelling geometry closer to the floor

Each silhouette shares a family resemblance, but every setting gives the pressure-shaped surfaces a different context. The reflective finish amplifies the effect: blue tones from the exhibition floor and bright patches of window light break across the steel, making some edges easy to trace and others surprisingly hard to locate. The pieces sit somewhere between furniture and oversized, crumpled silver packaging — an affectionate comparison, and an accurate one.

How does a balloon explain the process?

A balloon's skin and its interior volume develop together under pressure. JAWF translates that relationship into a material that holds the resulting shape. The resemblance stops short of literal imitation — these aren't novelty balloons recast in steel. Boxy outlines, compressed areas and deep cavities give the objects a more awkward, interesting presence. They read as objects still negotiating with the force that made them.

Crucially, the process isn't hidden beneath a decorative finish. The deformation supplies most of the visual character. You can follow a bulge into a hollow and understand that both belong to the same fabrication event — which is exactly why the work rewards a second look.

What the collection doesn't yet provide is proof of everyday performance. Dimensions, weight, pricing and usability evidence remain open questions, and a striking recess doesn't automatically make a convenient shelf. Those gaps don't diminish the experiment; they mark where the next stage becomes interesting — translating a compelling material study into pieces whose proportions and functions feel equally considered.