The Afterlife of Trees
In our Q & A, we discover how New York Heartwoods founder Megan Offner transforms loss into beauty, resilience and community connection.
WORDS WLLW Team
To work with a fallen tree is to listen to what it wants to become. At New York Heartwoods, Megan Offner brings this philosophy to life – designing with site-specific wood in a way that humbles human intention and elevates nature’s intelligence. In doing so, she shows how craft can be both a form of environmental care and personal connection. She tells us about her process and her passion.
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North River Architects Full Circle site visit. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwoods |
Milled red oak by NY Heartwoods Full Circle. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwood |
What’s the environmental and emotional significance of transforming felled trees into materials for the very homes they came from?
Every year, the US mills billions of board feet of lumber, while countless urban logs are chipped, burned, or landfilled. If all millable urban trees were processed instead, they could offset up to 25 percent of that demand while allowing for the conservation of more forests, the support of robust local economies and the storing of a significant amount of carbon.
For a lot of us, what is happening environmentally is emotional. We feel loss when a tree we love comes down in a storm, or when land is cleared for development. Transforming site trees can take some of the sting out of that feeling, as the trees are then able to live on in another form. It can grow our understanding that these living beings around us are the source for much of our built environment.
"For a lot of us, what is happening environmentally is emotional. We feel loss when a tree we love comes down in a storm, or when land is cleared for development."
Megan Offner
How did your time learning about Native American practices influence your relationship with wood, especially when working with damaged or diseased trees?
My relationship to wood started in my childhood. I grew up in Montana, surrounded by incredible wild beauty...and clear-cut mountain sides. The latter instilled an awareness that most wood products are the result of extractive practices. When I moved to New York City over twenty years ago, I landed a job creating sets. At the end of a shoot the amount of waste generated was unnerving. I reached a point where I couldn't ethically do it any more and for the next three years, dove into studying permaculture, sustainable building and design and silviculture.
My last course was with a forester who witnessed his conventional forestry practices undermining forest health. He met a logger who worked with the Menominee Tribe and learned that removing the worst trees first – just one dying or diseased tree per acre per year helps to eliminate pathogens and supports the overall forest health. That showed me what reciprocity with the forest can look like.
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Salvaging walnut. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwoods |
Beyond sustainability, how can incorporating locally sourced, site-specific wood contribute to the health and wellbeing of a home’s occupants?
When we honor the land by co-creating with it, our homes feel more alive. And we do, too. Designing in this way requires responding to what a tree wants to be and is able to become, which brings us into collaboration. Being in relationship with others benefits our health by reducing stress, bolstering the immune system and fostering a greater capacity for joy.
On a physiological level, wood is a natural, biophilic material. Research shows that strong connections to nature are linked to reduced stress, faster healing, improved focus, greater motivation and enhanced creativity. Being surrounded by natural patterns and textures supports mental health and helps people feel grounded. Using solid wood with no-VOC finishes ensures that the environment is free from harmful off-gassing. The result is cleaner indoor air, which supports respiratory health and overall wellbeing.
You often work with collaborators across disciplines and gender identities – how does that shape the way you approach sustainability and design?
I'm drawn to people who are unapologetically themselves and passionate about what they love. As an outsider in a predominantly male industry, perhaps I connect with collaborators and clients who are women, BIPOC or LGBTQ, as they also haven’t always felt at home in this world. Environmentally and socially we're at a turning point where we can't keep doing business as usual. We need outsiders, people thinking outside of the box, seeing possibilities and alternatives that aren’t obvious to those steeped in tradition.
Craft is risky in a culture that privileges left-brain thinking and immediate gratification. It can be even riskier these days for people who fully express their gender or race. It's important to me to support those willing to take these risks. My work is often a bridge – between disciplines, urban and rural, different identities and even political worldviews.
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Log-to-lumber workshop for women and the LGBTQ community. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwoods |
New York Heartwoods was born in the aftermath of Hurricane Irene. How did that moment influence your thinking on waste, resilience and climate response?
My original intention for NYH was to sustainably manage forests and sell wood milled from culled trees. However, when I moved upstate, Hurricane Irene had just hit and I was surrounded by hundreds of fallen trees being chipped, burned, tossed into landfills or piled in parking lots.
One day, I visited a landfill to see if there were logs that I could salvage and, ironically, next door was a commercial lumberyard. As the community needed to rebuild, so many of its beautiful sawlogs were being discarded while wood from the west coast and Canada traveled for thousands of miles, resulting in greenhouse gas emissions that accelerate climate change. My mission shifted to upcycling as many local logs as I could and to build systems that capture fallen wood and keep its value within our communities.
We processed tens of thousands of board feet of lumber. Early on we were asked to make furniture from our wood. I chose to cease our milling operations to focus on fabrication. A couple of years later, came our first circular site-salvage request, to transform dying oaks into furniture. I found my calling and have since helped countless residential and commercial clients to upcycle trees from their land. I sold the contents of the furniture studio to focus on circular timber strategy and project management. On larger land-based projects, I'm working as a liaison between the clients, builders, architects and foresters to see that the removed trees are processed into the materials that are needed.
What gives you the most hope about the future of circular, climate-conscious design?
The endless creativity and generosity of the people around me. And the growing number of conversations around the intelligence of nature. Seeing more people live in ways that reflect that they are nature rather than separate from it, gives me hope that we can create not just sustainable buildings, but thriving communities and ecosystems.
Since I was a kid, I’ve loved trees. Several years ago, someone asked me to consider that trees love me, which completely reframed my experiences with them. When we receive love, we naturally want to give love in return. Circularity is a relationship. It’s seeing ourselves as part of a larger web of life and thinking about the lifecycle of what we use and create.
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Red oak Arrow Table by NY Heartwoods Full Circle Furniture. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwoods |
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A Park Slope yard tree being milled with a chainsaw. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwoods |
NY Heartwoods Full Circle Full Circle pine paneling. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwoods |
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Red oak floor by NY Heartwoods Full Circle. Photo courtesy of NY Heartwoods |
Feature Image: Founder of NY Heartwoods, Megan Offner. Photo courtesy of Peter Senn Yuen
Photography: NY Heartwoods
