The art of Buhno furniture is an ancestral technique practiced in rural families for three generations in Portugal. It was a cheap way for farmers to furnish their homes.
It had its golden age between the 1950s and the 1980s — you could find it in spaces like Eduardo Chillida’s studio. But today, few people still make Bunho furniture. The technique is very demanding, and the work rarely pays enough to draw new artisans to keep it alive.
Today, only two artisans still practice the craft — both close to retirement. Helena is new to the craft, having learned under her master, Sr. Manuel Ferreira. She is now one of the few women still working with this traditional technique.
She spends long hours perched on a small bench, carefully holding the piece between her legs as she works. A container of water is always within reach, keeping the material moist and her hands damp, which allows her to effortlessly smooth the rushes.
She works with a few essential tools: the needle, crafted from steel with a wooden handle and a hole at its tip for threading the bunho, and the pazelha, a wooden wedge used to tuck excess straw neatly into place.
The material used is Bulrush fibers, an abundant plant growing naturally in many humid areas, helping to control erosion and purify water. It has round, green, smooth, leafless stems that can grow up to 3m tall, and its flowers, grouped in small oval reddish-brown spikes appear near the top of the stems.
Flowering occurs between June and September, and harvesting take place in that period. Once cut, it’s spread out on the ground to dry in the sun on both sides for a few days. It’s then prepared in bundles tied with ropes, before being ready for the artisan to work with it.
It’s a fiber that is soft and more malleable than other fibers, but also very resistant. Bunho furniture is oddly comfortable. The seats are wide and generous, and the bulrush weave has a natural “give” that subtly adapts to the body, so you can sit for hours without feeling pressure points. The fibers are firm yet slightly springy under the hand, creating a surface that feels both supportive and soft, far from the rigid image the material suggests. Most visitors expect it to be hard and unforgiving; they only understand its comfort the moment they sit down and don’t feel like getting up !
In a world of fast furniture and disposable objects, Buhno stands apart: it ages, rather than expires. The fibers darken, the weave softens, and the surface keeps the imprint of every hand that has touched it. Owning a Buhno piece is not just about aesthetics; it is a way of holding on to a nearly vanished language of making :)
