Noel's shed

A good chat is always best had over coffee, so when Noel Akmens invites me into his home, he heads straight to the kitchen. The quality of his machine tells me he doesn’t mess around, either, so I ask him what’s harder: making coffee or building furniture? ‘Definitely making coffee,’ he says, before laughing.

Story and photographs by Evan Bailey.

I take in everything in the room which is likely to affect the way it finishes up and create a piece with subtlety that fits ... but still draws your eye to it.

Quality materials, good proportions and high functionality make Noel's work timeless and classy.

Noel lives on the northern outskirts of Port Elliot, crafting custommade furniture in his back shed. Across 36 years he’s seen his business, Idea at Port Elliot, transform from a larger scale mass producer to one which creates functional bespoke pieces with an eye for clean lines and minimalist form. Using a variety of timber – including American Oak, Jarrah and Blackwood – his creations range from tables and chairs to writing bureaus and beds; each individually shaped, as if holding its own personality.

Seeing the passion Noel exudes for furniture making, I’m surprised when he tells me he actually wanted to be a barrister. I ask him whether, for him, there’s any connection between the two, very different, lines of work. While I don’t get a definitive answer, I sense Noel values the relationship he builds with his clients, much like a barrister with those that he or she represents. Noel creates a dialogue with his customers, collaborating with them on the process which, in turn, shapes how each intricate piece evolves. ‘I’ve always had the ability to perceive (the final product) but I am not always right; there’s always a possibility of change through the whole process of making furniture … what I like others don’t, there’s always compromise.’

Noel’s furniture takes shape through a process of natural progression, he tells me, where a client’s vision, limitations in materials, along with his expertise in visualising proportions and aesthetic, all contribute to shaping the furniture’s form; all done – most likely – over a good coffee. ‘What’s the ultimate job then?’ I ask Noel. ‘Carte Blanche’, he explains. ‘When a customer has a clear space in their home and asks me to fill it. I take in everything in that room which is likely to affect the way it finishes up, and create a piece with subtlety that fits the room, but still draws your eye to it.’

Noel’s eye for detail started long before his work with furniture. He started his working life as an architectural draftsman in a government office, focusing on design aspects in buildings. But the role lacked fulfilment, with many of the projects he worked on falling through. In the end, he just wanted out. This change of heart lead him to Christies Beach, where he bought a furniture store. He soon discovered, however, that he wasn’t very good at retail. ‘In fact, I was terrible at it,’ he says. ‘But after a while I started thinking, maybe I could make this stuff to sell,’ he explains.

With his innate eye for proportion and scale, Noel took a job with a local backyard furniture maker, learning the ropes before renting a corner of the same space to operate his own business. He quickly caught on and enjoyed the work; day by day learning new skills. But after three months, his corner of the workshop was needed by the manufacturer; he would have to find another home for his business.

'It was all about the shed,' says Noel of the property at port Elliot.

The renovation of the old dairy into a Bed & Breakfast has given Noel the opportunity to showcase his work and create a functional and aesthetic backdrop for his furniture designs.

Noel and his wife, Robyn, moved to their property in 1981 – it was previously an operating dairy, run by a local named Jimmy Smith. While it initially took Robyn some convincing, Noel looked past the property’s modest dwelling and old dairy ruins; he was captivated by the scale of the old shearing shed at the back of the property and immediately visualised the possibilities of using it for his business. ‘The guy wanted to sell the lot and it was a no brainer,’ he says. ‘As much as my wife hated this house, I said, it’s not about the house, it’s about the shed!’

In the mid ‘80s, the region was awash with furniture manufacturers, all mass producing to keep up with demand from Adelaide retail outlets. ‘It was a great community of like-minded people,’ Noel tells me. ‘I was mass producing too and went from [being on] my own to employing six to eight people. Eventually his business outgrew the shed and he moved it to a nearby industrial park. As the business grew, Noel realised that, increasingly, he wasn’t making furniture anymore – he was simply running a business. And with this realisation, Noel went back to his shed.

It’s clear that the move back home for Noel was more than just physical. Returning to his shed symbolised a stark shift in how he approached his craft, as well as his life; with a higher regard for quality and time. ‘It was enlightening, the easiest decision I’ve ever had to make.’ Noel says. ‘I can look back at things I made 30 years ago and wonder why I didn’t (make furniture) like I do now? I didn’t realise what I was capable of back in the early days. Maybe I have worked out what I like a lot more… I now have this perception of, this is me and this is how I make furniture and this is how I want things to look, so that’s evolved over time.’

Under the rafters of his big shed, with the smell of sawdust and oil from industrial machinery, Noel sits at a work table for a photo. ‘I am extremely lucky,’ he tells me. ‘It’s still a job like anything else, but now more so than ever I am getting a lot of enjoyment out if it.’