From the Hall of
A place for everything.
Hand-woven leather for the hall, the study and the fireside.
Shop the collectionThe Hall of Tyr
The old stories tell us what Tyr did, but not where he lived. We like to think he kept a hall, where everything has its place and every promise is kept.
Walk through the Hall →
Rooms of the Hall
Every piece we make belongs to a room.
Five pieces
The Collection
Tyr's Hours.
Each piece has its hour in his day.
18:30
The Salle
Home from fencing. The mask and the blade go down in the hall, the keys back in the tray.
See the piece →
Sunday
The Walk
Five miles with Fen, boots off at the porch, then beef and a bottle of claret.
See the pieces →
Named for the one who kept his word.
In the old northern tales Tyr is the god of law, and the bravest of them all. When the wolf Fenrir grew too strong to be held, the gods had a fetter made from things that are no longer in the world: the footfall of a cat, the roots of a mountain, the breath of a fish. The wolf would not let them put it on him unless one of them laid a hand between his jaws in good faith. Tyr did. The fetter held, and he went one-handed ever after.
We took his name for a small and practical reason. The things we make are for keeping a house in order, and a house stays in order only when somebody keeps faith with it, every evening, in small ways.
The HallThe Weave
The weave.
Each piece begins as a hide of full-grain calf, cut into long strips and woven by hand, over and under, the way baskets were woven long before anyone thought to sell them. The edges are painted, the seams are saddle-stitched and the corners are set with solid brass. New, it is stiff and a little proud. Give it a winter on the hall table and it softens and darkens wherever a hand has rested.
Craft & Care
Four leathers.
Racing Green, the colour of a wet lawn under yew. Oxblood, for the library. Tobacco, which ages fastest and best. Warm Black, nearly the colour of the hall at midnight, which shows its weave only when the lamp catches it.
Racing Green
Oxblood
Tobacco
Warm Black
Letters from T.
Now and then, a letter from the Hall: a new piece, a note on care, something worth reading by the fire. Never more than once a month.