‘No two pieces are ever the same’: Eoin Shanley, founder of Copperfish
We chat to Eoin Shanley, the founder of Copperfish, a Wicklow-based design studio creating pieces with meaning, memory, and material heritage.
Can you tell me how you started creating lighting pieces?
I came to lighting quite organically. My wife and I restored a 250 year old cottage in Leitrim. I was working closely with reclaimed materials – copper pipes, big old beams, bits that already had a story to tell. I struggled to find lighting that worked with the cottage, so I started making my own. What began as a practical solution quickly grew, friends and family began asking for pieces, and before long Copperfish grew into a full?time studio business rooted in making things slowly, by hand, and with meaning.
What is the ethos behind what you do?
At the heart of Copperfish is a respect for our source materials. We work almost exclusively with reclaimed or forgotten timber, materials that are typically overlooked by modern manufacturers due to their character and complexity. These pieces often require manual handling because of their density or the presence of nails, bolts, and other historic elements. Rather than discarding these elements, we preserve and celebrate them as an integral part of the timber’s fabric and story. As a result of the way we work, where we source our timber and the circular nature of what we do, sustainability has become integral to the business, and to our customers. A Copperfish customer cares about where our products are made, where the timber comes from and the fact that it’s done mainly by hand, in a small workshop by a small team of people.
Do you have a favourite material to work with?
Ancient timber with a story will always be my first love. Each piece behaves differently and carries its own challenges, especially when you’re working with wood that is hundreds of years old. Timber from churches, docks, railway sleepers, or even timber that has been under water after being torpedoed a century ago! Old timber has a depth and character you just can’t fake. It requires patience to work with it, but it rewards you with the beauty and the character – no two pieces are ever the same.
Can you tell me more about the Anglesea Collection?
The Anglesea Collection is particularly special because of the provenance of the timber. It’s made from wood reclaimed from the historic Anglesea Stand in the RDS, a building deeply woven into Irish cultural and sporting history. That sense of place and memory is central to the collection. Like many of our collections, this one will be produced in a limited run and each piece is very much about preserving that shared heritage in a functional, everyday object. The collection includes a table lamp, a floor lamp, and a small furniture piece, each designed to allow the character and history of the timber to speak for itself.
What drew you to creating furniture?
Furniture felt like a natural extension of working with timber. Once you understand how these old woods move, age, and respond, you start to see possibilities. Larger pieces of furniture give you a much fuller picture of the timber – you see more of its character on a larger scale. Whether it’s a table or a bench, these are objects that continue to gather stories over time, much like the timber itself. I love the idea of creating furniture that can be used every day and ultimately passed down through generations.
What is your favourite thing about what you do?
There’s great satisfaction in the process of creating – the problem solving, the hands-on work, and working with a material that keeps you honest every step of the way. Working with timber this old is a bit like working with a curmudgeonly old man – it does what it wants, and you simply learn to work with it rather than against it. I love taking a piece of timber that looks old and weathered and revealing something beautiful within it.
It’s an incredibly tactile material – you want to touch it, smell it, really connect with it. You can’t rush the process, and there are days when you’re tempted to pack it in entirely, but it’s always worth the wait in the end. We’re very lucky to do what we do. Apart from being perpetually covered in sawdust, it’s a real pleasure.






