The form is a variation on several ideas: first, an economy of parts - two identical halves, two abbreviated supports, a centerblock, a single fastener. Second, the defining of furniture as a tool for counteracting mass and gravity. As with evolved forms in Nature, the morphology here is shaped by the "work" of resisting compression. The volume-enhancing curvilinearity below contrasts with the static, planar, two-dimensionality above. The "post and lintel" solution, with its structural angularity, has given way to the tensile and organic.
But there is also something counterintuitive here. The viewer's eye is drawn to an ambiguous absence at the plane of mirror symmetry.
One anticipates a solid connectivity, yet there is a gap. Likewise, the cantilevers of the tabletop defy the expectation of a visible supporting structure underneath. Something expected is missing, yet something unlooked for is present - the two halves do not present a stable, relaxed equilibrium but are rather joined together in taut suspension. The two reverse curves have stored up the compressive energy which formed them. But to what end?
It is something more than loadbearing. The WingTable presents the posture of the weightlifter - the feet are dug in, the muscles flexed. In the SideTable form, the weightlifter arises. The rounded ribbons of both forms capture an athleticism, a certain muscular grace, a morphos in which the earthbound recognize something of the beauty and predicament of their own physicality.