Along with famous innovators like Yves Béhar, these designers have forged a Bay Area design aesthetic that’s technologically sophisticated, sustainability-conscious, and almost European in its collaborative spirit. The irony of it all? Local buyers of “good taste” have been among the last to appreciate what the rest of the world has already discovered. But that, too, is changing—one signature chair at a time. Here's a look at some of the best.

MIKE AND MAAIKE

Who they are: Partners in love and work, industrial designers Mike Simonian and Maaike Evers create furniture imbued with political meaning.

Then to now: Simonian and Evers met when he, having just graduated from Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, interviewed at a design firm in Ohio. She didn’t want to hire him—but the firm did. Romance ensued, and they now have two small children. They spend only half their time on furniture design because 70 percent of their income is generated by projects like T-Mobile’s G1 phone with Google, and a soft laptop case for Belkin (one of Mike and Maaike’s most mass-produced items, which sells for $40). “You don’t see a lot of industrial designers working in furniture. It’s a whole different client base,” says Simonian. “Industrial design is less experimental and more market-driven, and it caters to corporate clients.”

Claim to fame: Juxtaposed: Religion, a notched-out bookshelf containing seven books that repre­sent the world’s major religions. In Vanity Fair, Angelina Jolie alluded to the bookshelf as “this great thing” her partner, Brad Pitt, had given her for Christmas. “That’s how we plan to raise our kids,” she explained: “teach them about all religions.” The mention was a boon (especially because of Pitt’s reputation as a design aficionado) for the piece, which appeared at ICFF in ’07 and had already received coverage in Dwell, I.D., and the Los Angeles Times. The shelf’s message of tolerance is one of the outgrowths of working in San Francisco. “Political issues are out in the open here,” says Simonian. “It seems really natural to bring that into design work.” The same year, Mike and Maaike’s Mute chair—exhibited at local collaborative Council’s ICFF booth and mentioned in I.D. and Wallpaper* (which named it the best armchair of 2008)—also took off, earning a flurry of orders.

Local angle: Simonian, a Los Angeles native, wanted to return to the Golden State after a stint in Ohio. San Francisco also appealed to the Dutch-born Evers because of the region’s progressive culture. They spent six years at industrial design firms here (she at Lunar Design, he at Astro Studios) before realizing that they wanted to “expand our subject matter and make our design a lot more personal and representative of our way of thinking,” Simonian explains. During their first year of business, in 2005, the couple decided to be purists and not take on any paying clients—they simply worked on their own creative projects.

Customers: Besides Brange­lina, drivers with the “Coexist” bumper sticker and those who prefer their furnishings to be infused with meaning.

Bestseller: Juxtaposed: Religion, $2,500, done for San Francisco collective BlankBlank.

2459 Lombard St., S.F., 415-359-0953, mikeandmaaike.com

ONE AND CO

Who they are: A renowned industrial design firm whose bread and butter lies in high-tech consumer products, but that also creates conceptual furniture for the love of it.

Then to now: Principals Scott Croyle, Claude Zellweger, and Jonah Becker, all veterans of the region’s best industrial design firms (Moto, Ideo, and Frog Design, respec­tively) founded One & Co in 1998. The company creates award-winning objects for clients such as Nike (the Triax watch), Plantronics (a Bluetooth headset), and K2 (snowboard boots). So why branch out? The way they see it, product design maybe a satisfying entrée, but furniture is the dessert. “Pursuing furniture recharges us and allows us to take some of that thinking back to our core business,” says Croyle. Zellweger adds, “Furni­ture is more expressive and more pure, maybe more honest. It helps us define who we are.” In fact, it’s considered so sexy that it actually helps One & Co recruit talent.

Claims to fame: At first glance, One & Co’s Periodic table, made for local collaborative Council, looks quite simple: four conjoined pieces of reclaimed Douglas fir. But its silver coating adds an ironic dimension—a key quality of early-21st-century design. “There is an intellectual com­ponent,” Croyle explains. “The table is silver, and it feels very precious; then you see this grain coming through it. It’s the joining of materials that makes it unique and interesting.” After the Aura credenza, another One & Co design, debuted at ICFF in ’07, the company created a line of children’s furniture with interchangeable graphic panels for L.A.-based Muu, and Zellweger has designed an indoor/outdoor bench called No Ornamentation for Orange 22. The Con_Sequence lamp and Sequence bowl, created for Belgian art-design manufacturer MGX, wowed the crowds at the ’07 Salone del Mobile and earned One & Co a prestigious Spark Design Award.

Local Angle: More than a decade after One & Co’s launch, it is reaping the rewards: a new 6,000-square-foot building in the Mission’s “media gulch,” and a roster of clients that spans a range of disciplines. Many of the company’s peers are making a similar segue. “There seems to be some critical mass,” says Croyle, adding that Cary Bernstein, a member of SFMOMA’s architecture and design forum, asked One & Co to host a design forum in January that featured BlankBlank, Council, Citizen:Citizen, and Mike and Maaike.

Customers: Euro aesthetes and design types (both prone to wearing hip, angular glasses) who appreciate furniture with technical bravura; East Coast hotel decorators; and high-rise owners.

Bestseller: Chrysalis stool for Council, $650.

2700 18th St. S.F., 415-621-6214, oneandco.com

BLANKBLANK

Who they are: A collective pulled together by accomplished Sacramento-based designers Jon Dennis and Rob Zinn, who inspire and commission work from designers around the world.

Then to now: Since its inception in 2004, BlankBlank has taken a Robin Hood approach that breaks from the industry paradigm. “It seemed a little wrong to me that a sales rep pulling a catalog out makes more money than the person who designed the items in it,” Dennis says. BlankBlank’s designers get a cut of around 10 percent, rather than the industry standard of 3 percent. The quid pro quo: “You’re expected to do more and almost become a 50/50 participant in the effort to create and sell furniture,” says Mike Simonian, of Mike and Maaike, who is part of the collective. To keep costs down, BlankBlank eliminated most sales to wholesalers, instead selling at its new Sacramento retail showroom or by custom order. “Our goal is to bring the designer closer to the community, reduce the layers between them, and, most important, let the designers create,” says Dennis.

Claims to fame: Prototypes of Zinn’s first light, Expansion, were an immediate hit at ICFF in ’04, aided by a mention in the New York Times, and were ordered by the W Hotel in New York. One of BlankBlank’s most successful products is the sold-out Juxtaposed: Religion by Mike and Maaike. New Yorker Mark Goetz’s new Divide bench is the latest star, and a new Goetz planter collection will debut at ICFF this spring.

Local angle: Sacramento may not be a design hub, but the company manufactures most of its high-end furniture and lighting close to home by contracting with six workshops located within a 15-mile radius of the city proper. “There’s probably no better place on the West Coast for us,” says Dennis, who introduced brands like Alessi and DellaRobbia to the designer-starved area through his Atmosphere design shop (which he no longer owns). Formerly based in Brooklyn, Zinn worked as an industrial design consultant and taught at Pratt Institute before relocating to a farmhouse on the Sacramento River.

Customers: Interior designers who score points with clients for discovering a new furniture company in the unlikeliest location.

Bestseller: The first objects BlankBlank ever sold—a heliocentric light collection in multicolored organic shapes, designed by Zinn—went for around $300 in 2004.

1915 17th St., Sacramento, 916-446-1502, blankblank.net

COUNCIL

Who they are: A San Francisco collaborative, founded by formerly frustrated creative Derek Chen, that’s plugged into the design scene across the globe. He taps talent here and curates collections to present at ICFF and Salone del Mobile. “It’s great to have a community to bounce things off of,” he says. “We benefit from being in San Francisco, but we don’t design for the San Francisco community. We design for the world.”

Then to now: Chen worked in Silicon Valley before starting Urbana Design in 2002 and Council in 2007. He created Section for Council’s debut, but now he focuses on finding designers and working with them to “evolve the feeling of the brand and the collection.” This process is typical of the way European firms work. “He actually invited the designers to look at everyone’s pieces to bring together a cohesive collection,” says Council contributor Simonian, of Mike and Maaike. “That was something I had never seen.”

Claims to fame: Council’s ICFF debut, in ’07, introduced America to many of the Bay Area’s best industrial designers and their early attempts at furniture, including Mike and Maaike’s Mute chair and One & Co’s bestselling stool. One & Co’s Periodic table, part of Council’s newest collection, was the showstopper at ICFF in ’08. Right now, the company’s roster also includes designers from Europe and Asia.

Local angle: Sitting inside Council’s 4,000-square-foot design studio in Potrero Hill, Chen apologizes for being perpetually covered in a thin layer of sawdust. This is the working shop where Council’s prototypes and the decorative accessories for Chen’s Urbana Design label are made. The local retail outlet for Chen and Council’s work is Propeller, in Hayes Valley. “I wish my store was 15 times the size—I’d really like to carry more of their furniture,” says the shop’s owner, Lorn Dittfeld. He has seen the demand for such design-driven pieces grow since he opened his store six years ago, and he credits this rise to the city’s development projects, newfound architectural pride, and designers like Chen.

Customers: Former commune experimenters who ditched tepees, grew up, and built expansive modern houses.

Bestseller: The Chrysalis stool, $650, designed by One & Co, is Council’s most popular piece.

635 Texas St., S.F., 415-550-1750, councildesign.com

JOHANNA GRAWUNDER

Who she is: An avant-garde designer who trained in Milan with Ettore Sottsass, the founder of the 1980s Memphis movement. When the San Diego native first arrived in San Francisco, few really understood her work. It wasn’t art and it wasn’t design—her high-concept furnishings fall into a category called “art design,” a hybrid of both that is highly prized and highly collectible.

Then to now: Grawunder’s luminous career includes 16 years at Sottsass’s prestigious Milan architecture and design firm. She didn’t choose San Francisco as a career move—she came “for the only reason to ever move: love.” Grawunder and her partner, architect Mark Jensen, who’s designing SFMOMA’s sculpture garden, share a SoMa loft. She uses cheap and simple materials, such as acrylic and aluminum, for her lighting designs—rather than crystal and gold, like others in her field. Instead of designing for the masses, Grawunder prefers conceptual projects. She points to the Disky chandelier in her loft: “There are not a million people who want that hanging in their house,” but she made it for the handful who do.

Claims to fame: Her exposure at venues like the Venice Biennale and Art Basel Miami Beach helped popularize her cutting-edge designs, but most of her work comes in limited editions. Grawunder takes on some projects with more widespread appeal: patterned glass vases for B&B Italia, light fixtures for the Italian manufacturer Flos, and a $50 pen for Acme that sells at SFMOMA. Modernist San Francisco retailer Dzine sells Grawunder’s Wedge Mirror (starting at $4,505) for Boffi, a backlit wedge with mirrors on both sides that stands between two people. “She has a background that no one else in this town has,” says Dzine owner Cardenio Petrucci, who calls her “probably the most undervalued designer of the past 20 years.”

Local angle: In honor of Grawunder’s arrival from Milan in 2001, Dan Friedlander turned over Limn’s entire gallery space to the designer. In addition to light fixtures that range from glowing colored panels to a chandelier made of spare lightbulbs, acrylic panels, and stainless steel, Grawunder added light to all types of furniture—vanities, coffee tables, dining tables, cabinets, consoles, and beds. But her fans didn’t make the trek here, and her minimalist, limited-edition pieces were not well received in San Francisco, which Grawunder describes as being afflicted by “an aesthetic of good taste” that includes travertine coffee tables and beige sofas.

Customers: European and East Coast collectors with a deep appre­ciation for conceptual art-design objects—and the deep pockets to buy them.

Bestseller: The Giolight, $25,000, in a limited edition of six, which sold out in a week (a week later, one sold at auction for $75,000).

By appointment only, info@graunder.com, grawunder.com

CITIZEN:CITIZEN

Who they are: A high-concept manufacturer of often edgy and provocative furniture and decorative objects, under the direction of founder Philip Wood.

Then to now: Wood, a Brit who moved to San Francisco in 2004, is a cabinetmaker who crafted all the furniture in his Mission district house. As a self-described “makeshift curator and manufacturer of avant-garde design,” Wood is constantly questioning people’s relationship with objects and their meaning. “I’m not about telling people what they should think about objects,” he says. “But we are very much involved in asking people what they think about them to come to a better understanding of why we value things.” Citizen:Citizen is sold through design stores, such as Limn, though Wood is now looking for retail space after the success of his holiday pop-up store on Bush Street.

Claims to fame: The Ballistic Rose, designed by New York–based artist Tobias Wong, was acquired by the Museum of Modern Art in 2008 for its permanent collection. (The Gug­genheim and Cooper-Hewitt had already exhibited Citizen:Citizen, while SFMOMA snapped up four pieces for its permanent collection in 2007.) Many objects created by Wood’s stable of artists are ironic and even controversial, including two versions of Fredrikson Stallard’s crucifix-shaped brush. “Provocation is an element of some of the work,” admits Wood. Still, he was surprised to learn in October—the same week in which he received word of MoMA’s acquisition—that First Republic Bank was closing Citizen:Citizen’s accounts because of objects the company sells. However, Wood says, “they were unwilling to clarify which objects were problematic.” Citizen:Citizen’s work appeals precisely because of the tension in its designs, and because it bridges the boundaries between objets d’art and modern design. Its crossover appeal is evident in the variety of venues in which it’s shown: at ICFF in New York and at galleries during Art Basel Miami Beach.

Local angle: Radio journalist Tania Ketenjian. In 2005, Wood married her and moved the fledgling Citizen:Citizen company from Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to a warehouse in the Mission district. These days, Wood and Ketenjian live in a Victorian a few blocks away from the showroom/studio.

Customers: Young-philosopher design types who read Sartre and contemplate the meaning of objects, like the transformation of the box cutter from everyday tool to symbol of terrorism.

Bestseller: Wong’s Ballistic Rose, $175, a ballistic nylon corsage meant to protect one’s vital organs “in times of conflict.”

3435 Cesar Chavez St., Ste. 226, S.F., 415-695-7748, citizen-citizen.com

JASON LEES

Who he is: An Oakland-based interior and furniture designer whose custom wood pieces combine clean, modern lines with an arts and crafts–style respect for workmanship.

Then to now: Before and after college, Lees worked at his father’s contracting and decorating company, then in graphic design, “which made me realize I liked three-dimensional design better.” Classes in interior design at UC Berkeley led to a position at Delgado Design in San Francisco, which specializes in high-end hotels. Working on the redesign of the Hotel Nikko, Lees helped conceptualize furniture for 100 rooms, as well as the lobby and other public areas. That was a turning point: “From that, I realized that this is what I wanted to do.” Unlike most of his peers, Lees never sought the ICFF spotlight to expose his furniture to a larger audience. He thought the cost of showing there, which he estimated to be around $30,000, was too dear for a small business like his, but he has never­theless attracted a national following, thanks to press mentions.

Claim to fame: In 2005, Metropolitan Home featured Lees in a story on new American furniture designers, and one of his pieces had appeared in British design journal the World of Interiors the previous year. The appeal of his furniture lies in its subtlety: It follows the clean lines of modernist design, but his use of organic materials and emphasis on craftsmanship make it appealing to customers who consider the leather-and-chrome branch of modernism too cold. Lees’ Trim low dresser, for example, with its lacquered drawers in brown and red, recalls the color blocks of midcentury modern art and furnishings.

Local Angle: A quaint storefront among bungalow houses in the quiet Glenview section of Oakland seems like an unlikely home for Lees’ made-to-order wares, which are sold to interior designers and homeowners around the country. Lees wound up in the Bay Area in 1985, after grad­uating from UC Santa Barbara. He moved in with a childhood friend who went to UC Berkeley, and opened up the showroom in 2003, four blocks away from his current house. In the Bay Area, Lees discovered a strong regional vernacular that both respects craft (stemming from the turn-of-the-20th-century design movement itself, as well as from hippie practitioners) and is obsessed with the environment and organic materials. Just don’t expect any flashy design statements. “People here have understated taste,” Lees observes.

Customers: Craftsman-bungalow owners and others who were once stuck in the early-1990s revival of the movement, but have now decided to test the waters of modernism with a handmade piece in wood—the honest material.

Bestseller: The Recess round coffee table in walnut, $2,190, with a recessed circle in the middle, creating two levels of use.

1577 East 38th St., Oakland, 510-482-4321, jasonleesdesign.com

GRAVY SERVICE

Who he is: Anand Gowda, the brains and hands behind a one-man custom-furniture company specializing in one-of-a-kind pieces.

Then to now: The Rhode Island native apprenticed with a furnituremaker and a metalworker before studying industrial design at Boston’s Wentworth Institute of Technology. He then took his tools to youth-friendly Seattle (he still gets referrals from clients there) for a while, but he felt that San Francisco had a better design culture, so he eventually moved down the coast. Gowda, who calls his solo operation Gravy Service, designs anything his clients want or need: His latest projects include a bar for a photographer’s studio and a walnut credenza for another artist’s workroom. “There’s always tension between creativity and making a living,” Gowda says. “People don’t always go for the cutting-edge stuff, and that tends to take away from creativity. I have designer friends who have had to com­­promise their work so that it’s less conceptual, but I’ve been pretty lucky—my clients have been happy with my designs.”

Claim to fame: Being a member of San Francisco’s artsy young culture—with a strong DIY aesthetic and a countercultural ethos—connected Gowda with Derek Fagerstrom and Lauren Smith, the owners of the Curiosity Shoppe, a hip home-furnishings shop in (where else?) the Mission. Gowda designed shelving for the store and created a room divider for the August/September 2007 issue of ReadyMade (where Fagerstrom served as projects editor). Soon after, Design Sponge, the blog where Fagerstrom and Smith are craft editors, included a post about an entry-hall organizer built by Gowda. Voilà! A star was born. The room divider is a bit off-kilter: Individual pieces of shelving are clamped together into boxes with steel spacers, and Gowda suspended the whole arrangement on aluminum poles.

Local angle: An accomplished woodworker and metalworker, Gowda starts with a design on paper and ends with a finished product he has cut, assembled, stained, and polished himself in the Dogpatch workshop that he shares with three other woodworkers. Gowda is part of a network of about 10 thirtysomething furniture craftspeople who operate in places that have traditionally appealed to young creatives, such as the Mission, West Oakland, and Emeryville.

Customers: DIYers who appreciate handcrafted and alternative anything, as well as thirtysomethings who want the cachet of having a custom-built piece in their SoMa lofts.

Bestseller: The room divider. It has appeared in various incarnations, but the latest version (in walnut) sells for around $4,000.

By appointment only, 415-215-9811, gravyservice.com