How a custom furniture studio rescues urban trees—and gives them new life
An interview with Where Wood Meets Steel
By Kathryn Soter | GFDA
Ryan Dirksen, co-owner of WWMS lays out a slab destined to become a dining table.
We spoke with Marina Chotzinoff, who, along with her husband Ryan Dirksen, owns Where Wood Meets Steel—a Denver, Colorado–based custom furniture design and fabrication studio. Their work pairs wood and metal using locally sourced materials—particularly old hardwood from urban trees—to create high-end residential and commercial furniture.
Early in our conversation, Marina shared a story that immediately brought to mind Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. When a historic white oak in a Cherry Creek neighborhood was slated for removal, the property owner’s daughter—whose mother had recently passed away—reached out to Where Wood Meets Steel. This was her childhood home. She had grown up with this tree, and the idea of losing it felt like losing another piece of family history.
Once the second-largest white oak in Colorado, the tree held deep personal meaning. WWMS stepped in, paying for its careful removal to ensure the best cuts and proper care, then milling and drying the slabs over the next two years.
“While it was really sad to see such a prized tree come down,” Marina told us, “we were happy to be able to repurpose some of the wood.” Since then, the tree has lived on as tables, doors, and counters—and even as slabs passed along to other local woodworkers.
Sounds like that tree still has another hundred years left in it.
So let’s start there—with the tree that set the tone for our conversation.
Take us back a bit. How did Where Wood Meets Steel begin—and when did salvaging urban trees become part of the story?
We moved to Denver from San Francisco in 2002 after pursuing a variety of creative jobs. Ryan learned to weld at a motorcycle shop and started taking on fabrication work, which eventually led to a large build-out for a high-end boutique.
He had purchased some reclaimed railroad dunnage for that project, and pairing wood with steel really stuck. Soon he was following the sound of neighborhood chainsaws, acquiring local trees that were coming down and figuring out how to transport them to a mill, then sticker and dry them in our backyard.
Each tree had its own figuring and story—sometimes complete with nails, dog chains, or even parts of a lawn chair. Over time, we purchased three mills, added a vacuum kiln, and eventually started selling wood in addition to building furniture.
The black shelves were treated with the Yakisugi method: a traditional Japanese woodworking technique that chars the surface of wood, traditionally cedar or cypress, to preserve it.
Today, you work with mature urban trees that are coming down due to age, disease, or development. How does that rescue process actually work?
We collaborate with several local tree companies that reach out when they have trees that are good candidates for reuse. We also hear directly from homeowners who either want to make something from their felled tree—or at the very least keep it from being chipped and landfilled.
Some tree companies deliver usable trunks to us, and in other cases we arrange pickup if there’s good access. Salvaging large sections can even save homeowners disposal fees.
Once a tree arrives, what happens between chainsaw and finished piece?
Once we receive the logs, we wax the ends and mill them into slabs, lumber, or thicker stock for mantels, benches, or tables. Each slab is photographed and inventoried, then stacked and stickered so moisture can come down before kiln drying.
A typical vacuum kiln cycle takes about three weeks, depending on species and thickness. Since we’re primarily a custom shop, we then match available slabs to client needs and invite them to view and select pieces in person. After design approvals, we fabricate and eventually deliver and install the finished work.
We also create sculptures, art pieces, and small home goods that are sold through local boutiques or directly from our warehouse.
Pairing salvaged wood with American-made steel is your signature. Why steel—and what does it add beyond aesthetics?
It’s about balance: strength, versatility, and longevity. The steel we use is manufactured here in the U.S., most of it sourced just two blocks from our shop. We recycle any scrap we can’t use and often turn remnants into smaller pieces like mirror stands or sculpture bases.
Powder coating gives us thousands of color and finish options and is considered a more eco-friendly, extremely durable process. When we want to keep the raw steel look, we use waxes to protect it from rust.
Ryan and crew getting ready to fell a 100 year old oak in a Denver neighborhood scheduled for development. It would get a new life as a room full of furniture.
“Reclaimed” and “salvaged” can mean a lot of things. How do you stay transparent about where your wood comes from—and does that matter to your clients?
The terminology can definitely be confusing, so we spend time clarifying what clients are really looking for. While we do have a small collection of old beams salvaged from buildings, most of our material comes from local urban trees.
We use inventory software that tags wood sourced within a 50-mile radius as “Carbon Smart,” and we often know the original address of the tree. Some clients seek us out specifically for local material, while for others, the story is an added bonus.
You design “with climate in mind.” What does that mean in practice—especially when it comes to the often misunderstood idea of “salvaged materials”?
Urban trees are very different from farmed lumber, and that’s what makes them so beautiful. Knots, cracks, bug trails, and staining are often exactly what our clients love.
Everything we sell is kiln-dried by us, which ensures it’s bug-free and stable in Colorado’s climate. We also design furniture with proper structure that allows wood to naturally expand and contract. Many pieces can be taken apart, repaired, or refinished over time.
At the end of the day, salvaged material is the same material as trees cut specifically for lumber—it just comes with a better story and purpose.
A dining table made from two upper limb slabs with a laser cut steel river:
With hundreds of slabs in inventory, are you seeing more designers and architects seeking out urban wood—or is it still fairly niche?
We’ve seen a small increase in design professionals asking specifically for local, reclaimed wood, but for many clients it’s still a bonus rather than the main driver. Volume can be a challenge for larger projects, though there are organizations trying to address group sourcing nationally. We’ll see where that goes.
Custom work means collaboration—and sometimes reality checks. How do you guide clients toward designs that actually work?
Most clients understand that trees grow the way they grow, but sometimes expectations need adjusting. Our role is partly education and patience.
We try to lean into natural features rather than hide them—using knot holes for cord management, steel plates to stabilize voids, or twisted branches as sculptural elements. Because we mill entire logs, we can also offer grain-matched and book-matched slabs and let clients see everything in person before deciding.
A few fun ones to close: Is there a piece you wish you’d kept?
We once turned a crab apple tree I grew up with into a sculptural boutique display with steel branches. We don’t have room for it—but I’d love to have it back in our lives.
If you could work with any tree species in the world—logistics aside—what would it be?
Ryan: American Elm. Dutch Elm disease wiped out millions of them, so when we get a chance to work with one, it’s special.
Marina: Massive Western walnuts. The size and figuring are just awe-inspiring.
Last question—and I’m genuinely curious: wood or steel, if you had to choose just one?
Ryan: Wood. It feels more personal and endlessly versatile.
Marina: Wood. It’s never the same and always a joy to work with.
Pictured: Jewelery made from small wood scraps. A finished door. Marina after the effects of the Yakisugi process, charring and wire brushing some local pine for boutique shelving.
Every Upcycle conversation reminds us that materials have memory—and that design choices can honor what came before while shaping what comes next. Whether it’s a century-old tree or a carefully considered detail, reuse isn’t just about saving resources—it’s about extending stories.
Thank you to Marina Chotzinoff and Ryan Dirksen of Where Wood Meets Steel for sharing theirs.
Kathryn Soter is the executive director of the Good Future Design Alliance and works directly with firms seeking clearer messaging, stronger sales tools, and practical ways to implement sustainability strategies.
To start a conversation, reach out directly: Kathryn@goodfuturedesign.org
