We speak with designer Jorge Penadés, a practitioner who views the world not as a collection of static objects, but as a system of interconnected possibilities. By transforming the remnants of rural economies into profound narratives of resilience, Penadés invites us to radically rethink the value we place on the material world and the history inherent in the landscapes we inhabit

Jorge Penadés does not simply design objects; he designs the conditions for materials to speak for themselves. Born and raised in Málaga, he brings a deeply ingrained Mediterranean perspective to his work, consistently seeking out local practices that the modern industrial world has pushed to the periphery. For Penadés, materials are never passive resources; they are entities with their own distinct personalities, stories, and characteristics. His role as a designer, therefore, is to step back and uncover the hidden potential in what we often discard, translating overlooked rural wisdom into a new design language that challenges our existing value systems.

This ethos is central to his Uprooted project, where he translates the tactile warmth and irregular history of olive roots into the medium of wool. By bridging the gap between historical craft and the precision of robotic tufting, Penadés demonstrates that technology and tradition are not opposing forces, but vital tools for exploration. Through his collaboration with cc-tapis, he transforms what might be dismissed as waste - dead-stock wool and discarded wood - into something that reflects both our ecological reality and our cultural depth, proving that sustainability is as much about a shift in perception as it is about preservation.

Your practice often reinvents materials and techniques. How would you describe your overall vision as a designer today?

My practice is based on the idea that design should help to generate new possibilities. Whether more or less interesting, at least people have more options to choose from. I do that by creating new relationships between materials, contexts and people. I am specially interested in looking at what already exists around us (materials, crafts, industrial processes, and cultural practices) and questioning how we value them.

Over the years, my work has moved towards a deeper interest in systems. Materials are not just passive resources waiting to be transformed; they have their own personalities, stories and characteristics and we should not treat them all the same way. My role as a designer is increasingly about designing the right conditions for them to shine.

Mediterranean culture seems to shape much of your work. How does this heritage continue to influence your creative approach?

Being born and raised in Málaga, the gateway to the Mediterranean from the Atlantic, had a big impact on who I am. Many of my projects start by looking at local practices that have existed for centuries but are often overlooked by contemporary design. With Uprooted, I became interested in the olive tree not only as a material, but as part of a wider economic and cultural system. It represents resilience, adaptation and a deep connection with the land. Mediterranean culture has always been shaped by making the most of what is available. Ideas of reuse and transformation are very present in this context, and I believe design can learn a great deal from these methodologies.

Uprooted Rug translates olive roots into wool through cc‑tapis’ Made in Milan platform. What was most challenging or rewarding about this shift from furniture to textiles?

The most interesting challenge was translating the physical and visual language of olive roots into a completely different material. With wood, the material itself already contains the history of the tree: its density, irregularities, knots, growth patterns. Wool required finding another way to express those qualities.

The collaboration with cc-tapis allowed me to explore this through other aspects that are very specific in rug making like pile height and yarn thickness. Instead of literally reproducing the appearance of olive wood, we focused on translating its essence, the movement, the grain and the organic complexity of the roots.

What was rewarding was discovering that wool and olive wood, although very different materials, share a connection through rural economies and traditional knowledge. Both come from landscapes shaped by generations of human interaction with nature, yet both remain relatively peripheral in contemporary design conversations.

The rug uses dead‑stock wool and robotic tufting. How do you see technology and sustainability working together in this project?

For me, technology becomes meaningful when it allows us to work more carefully with materials rather than simply making production faster. The robotic tufting process at cc-tapis’ Milan laboratory was important because it gave us the precision needed to recreate the complexity of the olive root patterns. At the same time, using dead-stock wool introduces another layer to the project.

Sustainability is not just about recycling materials; it is also about changing our perception of what has value. A material considered leftover can reveal new possibilities when approached from a different angle.

Beyond the rug, your Uprooted research explores rural economies and overlooked materials. What larger cultural or ecological questions are you hoping to raise through this work?

Uprooted began with a simple question: what happens to materials when they do not fit industrial standards and criteria? In the olive oil industry, olive trees are deeply connected to local culture and contain remarkable material qualities, yet their irregular forms and density often make them difficult to process. As a result, they are frequently considered waste and in Andalucía, the region I come from, they are usually sold as firewood.

Through this project, I wanted to question our value system. Uprooted is not only about olive wood or wool; it is about how we relate to landscapes, rural practices, and the knowledge that exists within them. I hope the project encourages people to look differently at the materials around them and to understand sustainability as something cultural as much as ecological.

Looking ahead, what kinds of collaborations or material investigations excite you most, and what keeps your drive to experiment alive?

I am interested in collaborations where different disciplines and forms of knowledge can genuinely come together. The most exciting projects are those where there is an open exchange and where the final result is discovered through research and experimentation. I want to continue exploring materials connected to specific territories and communities, especially those that have been overlooked and undervalued. There are many resources around us with hidden potential, my aim is to try to reveal this potential.