From Workshop to Tate Modern: Crafting “A Box of Smile”
Every box I make tells a story — sometimes it’s a quiet one, a gift for a loved one or a place to hold treasured memories. But now and then, a commission comes along that surprises you, changes pace, and reminds you how far a piece of work can travel once it leaves your bench.
In early 2024, I was contacted with an enquiry about producing a batch of small wooden boxes. The brief was initially simple to grasp, well-crafted, elegant boxes with a mirror inside. As with many of my bespoke commissions, the client wanted to explore options, materials, and finishes. So I began the usual process of quoting and gathering more details.
It wasn’t until further along in the conversation that the whole picture came into focus: the boxes were being commissioned for an upcoming Yoko Ono exhibition at the Tate Modern in London.
To say I was surprised would be an understatement.
A Conceptual Classic Reimagined in Wood
The piece in question was Yoko Ono’s “A Box of Smile” — a conceptual artwork first created in the 1960s, with the original versions often presented in clear acrylic or alternative materials. The idea is poetic and straightforward: a small box, often with a mirrored surface inside, so when opened, the viewer is greeted with their reflection — a quiet invitation to smile.
This version, however, would be a new interpretation. For the first time, the piece was to be realised in wood — a material full of warmth, tradition, and tactility. It was both an exciting and humbling prospect. I knew immediately that the craftsmanship would need to be of the highest standard, not just because of the artist’s profile, but also because of the conceptual purity of the piece. When something is this minimal, there’s nowhere to hide.
Choosing the Material: American Black Walnut
After discussing options with the curators and design team, we settled on American black walnut. It’s a hardwood I know well — beautiful to work with, with rich, dark tones and subtle grain patterns that lend a natural elegance to even the simplest forms. But beyond its aesthetic appeal, it has a structural integrity and weight that feels just right in the hand.
Timber selection is always a critical part of the process. For this commission, I hand-selected every board, ensuring a consistent colour and quality throughout the batch. Each piece was then carefully milled and prepared, ready for the precise joinery and fine detailing required.
Precision in the Details
One of the most critical aspects of the design was the angle of the lid. When opened, the inside of the box needed to reveal the mirror perfectly — not too shallow, not too steep — just enough for the viewer to see themselves comfortably and naturally. It might seem like a small thing, but it was a detail that had to be just right. Too often, it’s these subtleties that make or break a finished piece.
Each box was carefully assembled, with close attention paid to grain matching, edge alignment, and overall form. Then came the sanding — hours of patient work, progressing through finer grades until the surface was silky smooth and ready to receive its finish.
The Finishing Touch
Once the boxes were complete and checked for consistency, the final detail was the engraving. Each lid was laser-engraved with the phrase “A Box of Smile” — a nod to the original work and an anchor for the viewer’s experience. I kept the type subtle and clean, so it sat lightly on the surface, allowing the wood itself to remain the focus.
The completed boxes were then carefully packaged and sent off to London — a proud moment in itself. But it wasn’t until a few weeks later that it sank in.
Seeing My Work at the Tate Modern
I made the journey to London not long after the exhibition opened. Walking through the Tate Modern — a space I’ve visited many times as a viewer — and seeing my work quietly displayed in the context of such an iconic artist was… strange. But also deeply rewarding.
I took a moment to sit and observe. People would approach the box, open it, smile, and move on. There was no fanfare, just a gentle interaction, which is precisely what the piece is about. To think that something I’d made with my own hands, in my small workshop in South Manchester, was now part of that moment for people from all over the world — it’s hard to describe.
Pride, certainly. But also a sense of connection — through craft, through art, through something as simple as a mirror in a box.
A Lasting Impression
As a maker, you rarely get to see where your work ends up. You send pieces off to customers, knowing they’ll be loved and used, but you don’t often get to sit in a gallery and watch people engage with something you’ve created. This project was a rare exception, and one I’ll remember for a very long time.
Whether for an internationally renowned artist or a private commission, every box I make carries the same attention to detail, the same care, and the same quiet joy of making. But only occasionally, a project comes along that brings it all into sharper focus.
And for that, I’m grateful.