Hu Jie planes a wooden frame at a workshop in Beijing's Miyun district last year. CHINA DAILY

Young people add creative twists, rewarded by tradition of furniture making

At the end of his workday at a consulting company, 34-year-old Hu Jie has a novel way of unwinding in his small apartment in Beijing's Chaoyang district — he makes furniture.

One corner of the apartment is cluttered with drills, saws and wood oil, while half-finished planks are scattered across the floor.

Hu's skills cover a wide spectrum, from making finely carved furniture and intricate decorative pieces to practical household items and art installations.

His hobby began in 2023. Hu and his wife, an interior designer, were renting a compact 40-square-meter apartment, where clutter had piled up in one corner measuring barely 30 by 60 centimeters.

Hu's wife wondered whether the space could accommodate both a fish tank stand and a temporary dining table. "Stores offered no such solution, so I figured I'd build something myself," Hu recalled.

The result was a clever modular system featuring two wooden boxes stacked to form a cabinet that could hold the fish tank. These boxes could also be pulled out, placed side by side, and topped with a custom-fitted wooden tabletop to create a large dining table — a perfect solution for hosting friends in their small apartment. When not in use, the tabletop slides neatly under their sofa.

"It was simple but multifunctional. And it felt amazing to see an idea turn into something real and useful," Hu said.

That success led to further projects, and the couple's two cats inspired another Hu creation.

One of the mischievous felines repeatedly crawled under their bed and disturbed their sleep, so Hu designed and built four low wooden boxes that slid under the bed frame, blocking the cat's access while providing extra storage. "That seamless fit is something money can't buy," he said with a grin.

Hu is among a rising number of young people who are becoming engrossed with the Chinese custom of individuals making objects with their own hands.

They're not craftsmen in the traditional sense, yet on social media they eagerly share photos of themselves using saws and sharpening tools, styling themselves as modern-day versions of the legendary carpenter Lu Ban.

A tight budget and the pursuit of eco-friendly furniture are two major forces driving the handcrafting craze.

On popular social media platform Xiaohongshu, or RedNote, a quick search for "DIY (do-it-yourself) furniture", "marine plywood", or "aluminum profiles" reveals a thriving subculture.

Amateur artisans proudly showcase their creations, such as a plywood bookshelf, a walk-in closet framed with aluminum profiles, or a lighting harness fashioned from industrial-grade rails.

With hashtags like "Anyone Can Do It", "Low-Cost DIY", and "Eco-Friendly Furniture" — these projects have attracted thousands of likes, comments and shares, while inspiring others to pick up tools and try it themselves.

Building skills

Wu Xiaoyu, from Hefei, Anhui province, has attracted more than 300,000 followers on social media platforms since she started sharing her craft projects about five years ago. Wu describes herself as being an ordinary office worker back then, ordering takeout most nights and watching videos about minimalism and sustainable living.

Her first DIY inspiration came from an unlikely source: discarded milk tea bags. "It was such a nice material — thick, waterproof. I couldn't bear to throw it away," Wu recalled.

Wu cleaned one bag and stitched it into a small pouch for storing cables. That small act of reuse led to more experiments, including turning empty beer bottles into vases, crafting storage bins from food packaging, and even making candles in repurposed glass jars.

She then started sharing these small projects online. To her surprise, her tutorials struck a chord with viewers.

"People would message me saying, 'I want to do this too, but I don't know how to start'. That's when I realized there's this quiet yearning in many of us to create with our hands," she said.

Wu took her hobby up a notch after she bought her own apartment and faced a dilemma. The developer's decor felt cold and generic, and design companies' quotes for customization work were astronomical.

"Either I had to accept a space that didn't reflect me, or tear it all out and start fresh," she said.

"I wanted a home that felt like me, not something copied out of a catalog. So I decided to make it with my own hands."

Wu began frequenting hardware stores and construction sites, peppering carpenters and experts with questions about tools and techniques. She signed up for woodworking workshops, learned to operate power tools and watched hours of online tutorials about joinery.

Her first major project — a dining table — took her three months of trial and error to build.

"I remember staring at the planks of wood and thinking, 'what am I doing?'" she said. "But once I assembled it and sat down to eat my first meal on it, it felt like a victory."

However, not everything went smoothly. Early on, she mismeasured a set of cabinet doors, leaving a half-inch gap that annoyed her every time she saw it. "I kept it that way for a while to remind myself that precision is everything," Wu said.

Then she discovered aluminum profiles — modular, lightweight metal beams often used in industrial furniture. They became her secret weapon. "It's like Lego for adults. You can create frames for tables, shelves, or cabinets and customize dimensions exactly," she said.

With each project, her confidence grew.

Now, her apartment looks like it was curated by a high-end interior design studio, characterized by sleek wooden furniture, clean lines, and warm, earthy tones that evoke calm.

A handcrafted walnut cabinet sits perfectly flush with the wall, and a sturdy dining table anchors the open-plan living space. They are among countless details that were designed, cut and assembled by Wu herself.

Test of patience

Like Wu, Hu Jie also had no formal training.

He studied business management at university, cycled through jobs in sales, auditing, finance and platform operations before landing in consulting.

His closest brush with craftsmanship had been assembling Ikea furniture.

Hu's early attempts at making furniture were not without challenges. Using a low-powered electric screwdriver given to him by a friend, Hu found assembling sturdier furniture to be laborious and time-consuming.

"Every evening after work, I'd spend hours drilling and sanding. The noise worried me. I didn't want to disturb the neighbors, but I pushed on," he said.

Dust, fatigue and the sheer effort often left him questioning if it was worth it.

"But when the pieces finally came together, and I saw them in our home, the satisfaction outweighed the exhaustion," he said.

Over time, Hu's skills evolved. Initially relying on online tutorials for guidance, he later enrolled in a woodworking class at a neighborhood workshop. There, he learned to use professional tools and experimented with various joinery techniques like mortise and tenon, a traditional Chinese method.

"It's a craft of patience," he said, recalling hours spent sanding surfaces smooth with progressively finer grit sandpapers and finishing them with eco-friendly wood oils.

Hu even joined a volunteer project in northeastern Beijing's Miyun district, helping build a wooden pavilion with a local woodworking studio, where he learned how to use professional tools. This experience enabled him to build a bathroom vanity, balcony storage and a living-room console out of wood panels.

Learning from the pros

With many enthusiasts seeking professional training, carpentry workshops have sprung up across a number of cities.

In Hangzhou, Zhejiang province, Chen Dawei has become a mentor for many urbanites seeking to upgrade their skills.

Chen said he believes his trainees are fulfilling a yearning to work with their hands and find moments of calm "amid the scent of pine and the scatter of wood chips".

Nine years ago, Chen was in the agriculture industry in Northeast China's Heilongjiang province. He cultivated sunflowers and corn, before venturing into poultry and pig farming.

"Back then, you had to learn to do everything with your own hands — welding, building frames, repairing pens. If you didn't know how, you just had to grit your teeth and learn," he said.

In 2015, he moved south to Hangzhou and started from scratch in woodworking. "It was just when the 'artisan spirit' trend was emerging. I discovered that working with wood felt more grounding than anything else I'd done," he said.

Since 2022, Chen and his team have focused on teaching adults. They designed an intensive program, where within eight days, students progress from sawing lumber and sharpening tools to reading diagrams, and ultimately completing three items: a practice joint, a stool and a dovetail box.

He vividly remembers a session in the sweltering July heat last summer. The studio had no air conditioning. Two of the three students were female teachers who stuck to traditional methods, chiseling mortises and sawing tenons entirely by hand. "Their clothes were soaked through, but no one complained," he said.

His students come from all walks of life, including designers eager to bring ideas to life, new mothers searching for identity beyond child care, and people considering a career shift. Most are absolute beginners, but share a powerful sense of purpose, he has noticed.

"Many say woodworking heals them," Chen said, adding he too once relied on honing his craft to make it through difficult times. "With every chip you carve away, some of your worries also peel away," he said.

After the course ends, many of the participants tackle more complex projects. Some build home furniture, while others carve a simple spoon or a hairpin.

But not everyone makes it through the course. A young woman from Beijing hoping to blend woodwork into her ceramic art, left on the fourth day due to exhaustion. "Woodworking demands physical strength and patience," Chen said.

Meditative hobby

Zhang Zhang, deputy dean of the School of Art Design and Media at East China University of Science and Technology, sees a deeper reason behind the surge of young professionals taking up woodworking.

On one level, they are chasing the satisfaction of creating original pieces, using wood as a medium to convey personal ideas and aesthetics. On another, the very act of making an object allows them to infuse each piece with emotion, rendering it precious to them, she said.

But beyond these motivations lies a process of self-healing, which has been confirmed by the medical field, Zhang said.

Experts argue that this trend is not just aesthetic, but also cultural, psychological and social, reflecting how young urban adults seek purpose and balance through pursuing a craft.

Wu from Anhui said she is only halfway through renovating her apartment, but will keep sharing her projects to inspire her followers, especially young women.

"I want people to see that you don't have to be strong or have a fancy workshop. You just need patience, curiosity and courage," she said.

For Hu, woodworking is no longer just about doing practical jobs in his home. It's a meditative hobby, a way to physically connect outside an otherwise digital and fast-paced existence.

"When I'm not swamped with work, I love the slow, tactile process of creating something from raw materials. It's deeply rewarding," he said.

He has balanced his consulting job with occasional woodworking projects and favors small, thoughtful creations, like handcrafted storage boxes made with traditional joinery, often gifted to friends with their names engraved on the wood.

One memorable piece was a whimsical bookstand shaped like a house, complete with a miniature garden, a picket fence, and even a tiny lamp that illuminated the scene.

"It took several evenings to make, but it felt like giving a piece of my heart as a gift," he said.