@mwo_design

Mathilde Wittock: Design Has a New Material

Mila Jaso

A Brussels-based biodesigner, Mathilde Wittock, is slicing industrial waste, growing plant roots, and engineering absolute silence.

In Brussels, a Belgian designer is completely redefining how we experience our everyday spaces. Mathilde Wittock studied material research at London’s prestigious Central Saint Martins school. However, she does not create her pieces from clean or traditional components. Instead, her studio MWO Design transforms discarded industrial waste and living organisms into acoustic furniture. She cuts thousands of dead tennis balls destined for landfills. Meanwhile, she also guides the growth of raw plant roots into functional art pieces. Our modern world grows louder every single day. Therefore, Wittock uses science to turn toxic noise into an absolute sensory sanctuary.

© Seppe Elewaut

IRK: You grew up playing tennis. Today, you rescue dead tennis balls from landfills. What was the exact moment you looked at the waste of your own sport and saw an opportunity for great design?

Mathilde Wittock: Actually, it didn’t start on the tennis court. In fact, it started with sound. I’m hypersensitive to noise. That discomfort became a design obsession. I was looking for a sensorial, acoustic material with real global potential and impact. Something that could be found everywhere in the world, processed locally, and truly make a difference in how we experience shared spaces. Tennis balls came to me as a material answer to that question. Not the other way around. The sport was already part of my life, so I knew the waste was enormous. But what drove me was the acoustic potential first. The circularity second. It just happened that both aligned perfectly.

IRK: A tennis ball is hollow. It is meant to bounce. A stool must stand still and carry human weight. When you force this unstable material into solid furniture, what is the hardest technical lesson the ball teaches you?

Mathilde Wittock: The hardest lesson is that perfection here can only be reached by embracing imperfection. Each ball ages differently. The textile composition varies, the dyes absorb unevenly, the yellows fade at different rates. At first I tried to fight that. I wanted uniformity. Then I understood: that variation is the material speaking. The real challenge was removing the ball’s iconic identity. That fluorescent yellow, that branding. It ties the object so strongly to sport that it blocks the imagination. So I dyed every ball, stripped it of its past life, and gave it a new one. And staying circular was non-negotiable. No glue. Ever. If you glue the balls, you kill the system. You can’t disassemble, repair, or recycle. So I designed an assembly that holds through tension and structure alone. The ugliness becomes beauty only if you commit to it fully.

A Designer that Turns Violent Impacts into Quiet Sanctuaries.

IRK: You take objects built for violent impact and use them to block out the world. What exact state of mind are you trying to give to the people who live with your acoustic pieces?

Mathilde Wittock: I want people to feel that things have a story. Everything comes from somewhere. Every object was produced by hands, by machines, in a place near or far. We’ve lost that connection. But with these panels, you know. Every single ball has been played. It has won or lost a point. It has trained someone, maybe made someone fall in love with a sport, or give it up. A player, or many players, is behind each one of those balls. And that is quietly extraordinary. I want people to live with that. A loud history, held inside a soft and silent surface.

IRK: Which specific piece made you finally realize: this crazy idea actually works?

Mathilde Wittock: It was people. At shows and exhibitions, I was simply testing, showing, experimenting. And people responded. Emotionally, physically. I could see them touch the surface, slow down, look differently. The sensory impact was real and visible. That was the moment. Not a single piece, but a human reaction. That is when I understood the project could live beyond borders, and I committed to making it do exactly that.

Beyond Waste: Mathilde Wittock Grows Living Acoustic Geometry.

Mathilde Wittock refuses to stop at upcycling dead industrial waste. Furthermore, she creates a brand-new biological collection inside her Brussels studio. This latest project, called SoundRoot, grows functional acoustic surfaces from raw plant roots. Wittock pours germinated seeds directly into specialized cymatic moulds. These complex structures translate actual sound vibrations into physical, geometric patterns. Consequently, the expanding roots interlace naturally to form highly porous architectural tiles. She dehydrates each piece before applying a protective, algae-based bio-varnish. In fact, this carbon-negative process creates generative art that actively silences our loud world.

© Rodolphe de Brabandere

IRK: With SoundBounce, you gave new life to sports waste. Now, with SoundRoot, you are creating design objects from living plant roots. What inspired this new direction?

Mathilde Wittock: I wanted to go further than neutrality. Recycling existing waste is important, but it is, at best, neutral. With SoundRoot, I wanted a material whose very creation has a regenerative impact. Something that captures carbon as it grows, that repairs rather than simply reduces harm. Plants are perfect for that. They love carbon. Growing a material from root systems means the act of making something is also an act of giving back. I won’t lie working with living material is a real challenge. The roots don’t always do what you expect. But it is a beautiful challenge. That unpredictability is exactly what makes it worth pursuing.

IRK: Is there anything you wish I had asked?

Mathilde Wittock: Perhaps: what does it feel like to work with a living material? With SoundRoot, I grow the material myself, from seed to harvest in five to ten days. Some mornings I walk into the studio and the roots have woven themselves overnight into something I hadn’t planned. There is something deeply humbling about that. You are no longer fully in control. The material co-designs with you. And I think that is where design needs to go. Less ego, more listening.

Share this post

I grew up in a house divided between two worlds, the tennis court and the front row. For years, high-level competition was everything, until an injury forced me to stop and ask a different question. The answer led me to art direction and communication, and something clicked. It felt less like a change of path and more like arriving at the one I was always meant to take.

I believe fashion is never only about clothes. It is the silhouette you choose, the way you walk into a room, the story you bring to a piece of fabric, whether you intend it to or not.

For me, pursuing the intersection of fashion and art direction is the natural expression of that belief. A space where visual language and creative storytelling become one.

Read Next