ciated with luxury and a certain arrogance, Isola attempts to bring leather back to a more humble function. Like the taut skin of a drum, the skin stretches from one end of the table to the other, creating a rigid, but living tabletop. The little pleasures of life, represented by the objects we place atop the table, soften the leather. It accepts the imprint of our lives. In return, it asks that we interact with it, helping it to breath strongly. As we turn the handle, a new tension is created on the surface. In this way, Isola proves the strength of this natural material, and alludes to man’s very early connection with it. With Isola, we become once again, active participants in the making of the objects that inhabit our lives.