Interviews with Ivane Mazmanishvili

The central focus throughout the design of Moono was the quality of user interaction — specifically, how a person experiences the act of adjusting their environment. We were not interested in creating movement for its own sake. Mechanical novelty without purpose quickly becomes noise. What we wanted to achieve was something much more subtle: a light that makes a space feel genuinely alive and responsive, without drawing attention to itself.This meant that the sliding mechanism had to feel effortless — not the effortfulness of a precision instrument that requires care and attention, but the effortlessness of something that simply works, intuitively, without instruction. We also focused heavily on the visual resolution of the form. A pendant light that moves along a track could easily look industrial or provisional, as though the track system were an afterthought or a retrofit. We wanted the opposite: for the track and the pendant to read as a unified, architecturally considered composition, where the hardware of movement became an integral part of the design language rather than something to be concealed.Ultimately, what we wanted to achieve was a product that would feel, to the person who lives with it, as though it had always existed — as though it was simply the obvious way a pendant light should work.

Moono is not a finished story — it is the beginning of one. Our immediate plans involve expanding the product into a more complete family: variations in scale, material, and finish that allow Moono to serve a wider range of spatial contexts, from intimate residential rooms to larger hospitality environments. We are currently exploring options in brushed metals, matte ceramics, and natural stone composites for future versions, each of which would bring a distinct character while preserving the core design logic.Beyond product development, we are actively working to expand Moono's presence in European markets, with a particular focus on Italy and France — two countries whose design cultures we deeply respect and whose contract and hospitality sectors represent significant opportunities for a product of this kind. We are also in early conversations with manufacturers and distributors who share our commitment to quality and craft. If the right partnership emerges, we are open to exploring licensed production at a larger scale. In the meantime, we continue to produce and control the product ourselves, which allows us to maintain the quality standards that the design demands.

From initial concept to the first production-ready prototype, Moono took approximately one year to develop. That timeline reflects the true complexity of the challenge — not just the design of the form, which evolved relatively quickly from the initial sketches, but the engineering of the sliding mechanism, which required extensive iteration.We prototyped the mechanism many times across different material combinations and tolerance specifications before arriving at a solution that performed with the smoothness and reliability we required. There were versions that looked right but felt wrong. There were versions that worked mechanically but revealed structural weaknesses after repeated use. Each failure was informative. The final solution emerged not from a single moment of inspiration but from a sustained process of making, testing, and refining — which is, we believe, how durable design always works.

Moono was entirely self-initiated — a product of internal curiosity rather than a client brief. There was no commission, no specification document, no brief from a manufacturer. It began with a conversation within the studio about a problem we kept encountering in our interior design projects: the frustration of working with fixed pendant lights in spaces where the furniture arrangement needed to be flexible.We started the project simply to answer a question that bothered us. That independence was essential to the outcome. Because there was no client to satisfy and no budget constraint to manage against external expectations, we were free to follow the problem wherever it led — to prototype freely, to discard solutions that were adequate but not excellent, and to continue working until the design felt genuinely resolved. The best products, we believe, come from designers who are solving problems they have personally experienced and care about deeply. Moono is that kind of product.

Currently, Moono is produced independently by SHRE Studio, in collaboration with our manufacturing partner ELIA, who handled the transition from prototype to production. This arrangement gives us full control over the quality of every component and the integrity of the final product — something we consider non-negotiable, particularly at this stage of the product's life.That said, we are realistic and ambitious about Moono's potential reach. If the right industrial partner were to approach us — a manufacturer whose quality standards and market positioning genuinely aligned with what Moono represents — we would be open to discussing production licensing or a co-manufacturing arrangement. The priority would always be ensuring that any larger-scale production preserved the precision and material quality that define the product. We would not trade quality for volume.

Lighting has always occupied a particular place in our thinking at SHRE — not as decoration or accessory, but as the primary medium through which architecture and interior design are actually experienced. Light is what makes materials visible, what defines the mood of a space, what tells you whether you are in a place of comfort or tension. Yet the design of lighting fixtures has, for many years, focused almost entirely on form and luminous output while largely ignoring the question of position and adaptability.We design this type of work because we believe the field has underexplored the relationship between light and human movement within space

Japanese interior design philosophy was a significant reference point for Moono — specifically the principle of ma, the Japanese concept of negative space and the meaningful pause between elements. Japanese interiors tend to treat light with extraordinary restraint and intention, understanding that where light falls is as important as the light source itself. That sensibility deeply influenced how we thought about the relationship between the pendant form and the track system, and why we were so committed to making the mechanism feel unhurried and natural rather than mechanical.

Moono is designed for clients who regard their environment as a reflection of how they think and live — people who choose objects deliberately and understand the difference between a product that merely functions and one that genuinely elevates the quality of daily life. In residential contexts, that means private clients with a sophisticated relationship to interior design, people who are likely to work with an architect or interior designer on their home and who value craft and considered detail.

The most fundamental differentiator is that Moono is not a track light in the conventional sense. Most track lighting systems are designed for directional, functional illumination — the kind of adjustable spotlights you find in retail or gallery environments. They solve a different problem and they do so with a very different aesthetic logic: industrial, technical, deliberately utilitarian.Moono belongs to a completely different register. It is a pendant light — soft, sculptural, atmospheric — that happens to slide. The track is not a display of function; it is a quiet enabler of flexibility, integrated into the design in a way that makes it feel natural and architecturally considered. The form references the moon in both name and silhouette, creating a visual presence that is calm and refined. The mechanism is precise and smooth, designed to feel like an intentional gesture rather than a mechanical operation. To our knowledge, no other product in the premium lighting market combines this level of formal elegance with this specific kind of spatial flexibility. That combination is what makes Moono genuinely original.

The name Moono emerged naturally from the design itself — which is perhaps the best sign that a name is right. The form of the pendant references the moon: its silhouette, its quiet luminosity, its presence in a space that is felt rather than demanded. When we placed the first physical prototype in a room and turned it on, the name simply arrived. It felt correct before we had even discussed it.Moono also carries a second layer of meaning. The addition of the letter "o" beyond "moon" gives the name a slightly open, unfinished quality — as though it is a word still in motion, which felt appropriate for a light that moves. It also gives the name a soft, contemporary sound that works well across languages, which was important for a product we always intended to position internationally. Names that carry meaning in one language and still sound right in another are rare and worth keeping when they appear.

The design process for Moono began where all of our best work begins: with hand sketching. There is a directness to drawing by hand that no digital tool has yet replicated — the ability to move quickly between ideas, to think through proportion and gesture simultaneously, to produce something imperfect and honest that can be discussed and built upon.From sketching, we moved into 3D modeling software for formal development and refinement, which allowed us to study the proportions of the pendant and its relationship to the track system at scale. We then produced a series of physical prototypes using 3D printing, which was invaluable for testing both the form and the mechanical tolerances of the sliding mechanism. Physical models reveal things that screen-based visualization cannot — particularly the way a form occupies space, how it catches light, and how it feels to touch and handle. The final stages of development involved close collaboration with our manufacturing partner, using CNC machining and precision metalwork to produce the components that would meet our quality standards in production.

The sliding mechanism — and specifically the quality of the experience it creates. This was the aspect of the design that required the most extensive development and caused us the greatest difficulty, but it is also what makes Moono genuinely different from anything else available in the market.Many products have moving parts. Very few products have moving parts that feel truly considered — where the movement itself has been designed with the same care and intentionality as the form. In early prototypes, the sliding mechanism would sometimes catch or drag, producing a sensation that felt contrary to the refinement of the overall design. We worked through many iterations before arriving at a solution where the movement is genuinely smooth and effortless — where repositioning the light feels like a natural gesture rather than an adjustment. That quality of movement, invisible when it is working correctly, is what we consider the most unique and most hard-won aspect of Moono.

The concept and design development of Moono was carried out independently within SHRE Studio, without external creative collaborators. This was a deliberate choice — we wanted the design to emerge from a single, coherent point of view without the compromises that can occur when creative direction is shared too early in the process.For the transition from prototype to production, however, we worked with ELIA, our manufacturing partner, whose technical expertise in precision metalwork and component fabrication was essential. The collaboration with ELIA was less about co-design and more about translation — taking a design that had been developed in prototype form and engineering it for consistent, repeatable production at a quality level that met our standards. That kind of technical collaboration is, we have learned, one of the most critical and undervalued phases of product development. A beautiful prototype that cannot be reliably reproduced is not a product; it is a sketch.

Technology in Moono serves a specific and bounded role: it enables the sliding mechanism to function with the precision and smoothness that the design requires, and it supports the quality and consistency of production. It is not technology as spectacle — there are no smart systems, no app connectivity, no sensor-driven automation. We made this choice deliberately.We believe that the most enduring products are those whose relationship with technology is honest and purposeful rather than demonstrative. Moono's technology is almost entirely invisible when the product is working correctly. The track system uses precision-engineered components that allow smooth, controlled movement. The LED light source delivers a quality of illumination appropriate to the premium residential and hospitality contexts for which the product is designed. The manufacturing process uses CNC machining and 3D printing at the prototyping stage, which allowed us to achieve levels of formal precision and mechanical tolerance that would have been impossible or prohibitively expensive using traditional methods alone. Technology, in this sense, was a tool in service of the design — not the other way around.

The research that informed Moono was primarily observational and experiential rather than data-driven. We began by examining the existing landscape of pendant lighting — studying both historical fixtures and contemporary products to understand the conventions of the category, where those conventions had remained unchallenged, and where genuine innovation might be possible.We also looked at how track lighting had been used in commercial and retail environments, where the principle of repositionable light was already well established but where the formal and experiential quality of the products was typically sacrificed for function. This confirmed our hypothesis: there was a genuine gap in the premium residential and hospitality market for a product that combined the flexibility of track mounting with the formal refinement of a considered pendant design.Beyond category research, we drew on our own experience as interior designers — years of working with clients in real spaces, understanding how they actually inhabit their environments, where the mismatch between fixed light and flexible living most frequently created frustration. That lived, qualitative research was ultimately more informative than any quantitative data could have been.

In early prototypes, the mechanism would sometimes catch or create friction that made the sliding feel effortful and imprecise — the opposite of what we intended. We rebuilt the mechanism multiple times, testing different materials, different tolerances, different surface treatments, before arriving at a solution that performed with genuine elegance. A related challenge was the integration of the technical components — the wiring, the mounting hardware, the connection points between pendant and track — into the design in a way that felt resolved rather than improvised. In the final product, what began as a problem of concealment became something more interesting: the technical elements were incorporated into the design language itself, so that what might have been hidden instead became part of the product's visible logic. The challenge, in the end, taught us something important about design: constraints, properly engaged with, often produce better solutions than freedom alone.

The decision followed naturally from our experience at the LIT Lighting Design Awards in 2025, where Moono was recognized and awarded. That recognition gave us confidence that the design had genuine merit beyond our own assessment of it — that an independent jury of professionals in the field saw value in what we had created.

Moono taught us, above all, the value of persistence in the face of technical difficulty. There were moments during the development of the sliding mechanism when the most pragmatic solution would have been to simplify the concept — to design a fixed pendant and abandon the sliding ambition. We chose not to, and the final design is entirely defined by that choice. That experience reinforced something we now consider a core principle of the studio: the problems that are most difficult to solve are usually the ones most worth solving, because they are the ones that produce genuine differentiation.
We also grew significantly in our understanding of the relationship between design and manufacturing — specifically, how much of a design's quality is determined not at the conceptual stage but at the production stage. Working closely with ELIA to translate the prototype into a manufacturable product taught us to think about tolerances, material behavior, and assembly logic much earlier in the design process than we had previously done. That knowledge has changed how we approach product development at SHRE, and it will benefit every product we design from this point forward.

Moono represents something larger than a single product for SHRE Studio. It is the clearest expression to date of what we believe design can and should do: solve real problems with formal intelligence, respect the person who lives with the result, and contribute something to the world that is genuinely new rather than merely refined.
We are a small studio from Georgia — a country whose design tradition is rich and deep but whose voice in the international design conversation has historically been limited. We see every product we bring to market, every award we receive, every press feature and conversation we initiate, as part of a longer project of making Georgian design legible and respected on the world stage. Moono is a significant step in that direction.
We are also, at this moment, developing SHRE LAB — a physical space in Tbilisi that will integrate concept development, prototyping, production, and exhibition under one roof. It is the infrastructure that will allow us to realize more ambitious projects, to work with more complex materials and processes, and to invite the wider design community into our process. We believe deeply in transparency about how things are made, and SHRE LAB is our commitment to that belief made physical.
For anyone who wishes to follow our work, collaborate, or discuss how Moono might be right for their project or space, we welcome the conversation. We can be reached through our website at shre.ge.

SHRE Studio was founded in Georgia in 2019, shortly after my graduation. The name comes from the Georgian word for "layer" — and that concept is at the heart of everything we do. We believe that great design is never one-dimensional. It exists in layers: functional and emotional, cultural and contemporary, local and universal.
I founded SHRE with a specific vision: to create a space that operates less like a traditional studio and more like a laboratory. A place where experimentation is not the exception but the method. Where we are free to question assumptions, test materials, explore new technologies, and arrive at solutions that are genuinely original rather than simply refined versions of what already exists.
Today SHRE Studio is a small, focused team of eight to nine people based in Georgia. We operate across interior design, product design, and lighting — with an increasingly strong focus on lighting as an architectural element in its own right. Our work has been recognized internationally, including the A' Design Award Bronze in the Lighting Products and Fixtures Design category for our Moono Pendant Sliding Light, as well as recognition at the LIT Lighting Design Awards. We are a young studio, but we think and position ourselves as a luxury design brand with a clear point of view.

Design, for me, is a layer — much like the meaning of our studio's name in Georgian. It is the layer between an idea and its realization, between a human need and its most elegant solution, between a culture and the objects it produces.
I do not see design as purely aesthetic or purely functional. It exists precisely at the intersection of both. A truly successful design is one that you feel before you understand it — one that makes sense to the body and the senses before the mind has processed why. That quality, that immediacy of rightness, is what I am always pursuing.
Design is also, for me, a form of communication. Every object, every space, every light fixture carries a message about values, priorities, and intentions. At SHRE, we are very deliberate about what message our work sends. We want it to say: thoughtful, considered, honest, and beautiful.

In recent years I have developed a deep passion for product design — and within that, lighting in particular. What draws me to lighting is that it sits at a unique intersection between object and atmosphere. A lighting fixture is simultaneously a sculptural presence and an invisible force that transforms everything around it. It has architecture in it, not just design.
I am most excited by objects that carry structural and architectural thinking within them — pieces that feel resolved at every scale, from the overall silhouette down to the smallest detail. Objects that would be compelling even without their function, but that gain additional meaning when that function is considered.
I am also deeply interested in the relationship between technology and craft — how new manufacturing methods and materials can be used not to replace handcraft but to elevate it, to make possible things that were previously unachievable.

Without question, the Moono Pendant Sliding Light is the design I am most proud of to date. It has won both the LIT Lighting Design Award and the A' Design Award Bronze in the Lighting Products and Fixtures Design category — recognitions that mean a great deal to us, but the design itself matters more than any award.
Moono was born from a simple but persistent question: why must a pendant light be fixed? We spend enormous energy designing the perfect position for furniture, for objects, for people within a space — yet the light above, which defines everything, remains static. Moono challenges that. It is a pendant light that slides along a track system, allowing the light source to move with life — to follow a reading chair moved closer to the window, to shift with a dinner table rearranged for guests, to adapt as a space evolves over time.
The form is architectural and intentional — referencing the moon in both name and silhouette, a quiet, luminous presence that belongs to the space without dominating it. The sliding mechanism is precise and considered, designed to feel effortless. We wanted movement to feel natural, not mechanical.
Moono represents everything SHRE stands for: functional intelligence expressed through refined form.

The first professional project was a residential interior — a private living space where I had the opportunity to work across architecture, interior design, and custom furniture selection simultaneously. It was an important early experience because it taught me that design at its best is holistic. The way a room is lit, the materiality of its surfaces, the proportions of its furniture — these are not separate decisions. They are one conversation. That understanding has stayed with me and continues to shape how SHRE approaches every project.

My relationship with materials is ongoing and always evolving, but I am consistently drawn to materials that carry honesty — materials that do not pretend to be something they are not. Stone, metal, glass, and quality textiles all have this quality. They age with integrity. They develop character rather than deteriorating.
In terms of technology, I have become deeply engaged with AI-assisted design tools over the past few years. Not as a replacement for creative thinking, but as an accelerant — a way to explore a much wider range of possibilities in the early conceptual phase, to test proportions and compositions rapidly, and to communicate ideas to clients and collaborators with greater clarity and speed. AI is changing the speed of iteration in design, and I think studios that embrace it thoughtfully will have a significant advantage.
I am also fascinated by 3D printing — particularly for its ability to prototype complex geometries that would be prohibitively expensive or technically impossible through traditional manufacturing. For a small studio like SHRE, it democratizes access to a level of formal complexity that was previously reserved for large manufacturers. It allows us to think ambitiously and test that ambition at relatively low cost, which is essential for a studio that values experimentation as a core methodology.

At night. There is a particular quality to late hours — the silence, the reduced stimulation — that allows ideas to surface more freely. During the day, design is work. At night, it becomes something closer to thinking.

User experience and tectonics — how a person physically and emotionally encounters an object or space. I am always asking: what does this feel like to touch, to move through, to live with? The structural logic of how something is built is equally important to me. Form and construction should be inseparable.

A sense of possibility. When I am deep in a design process, I feel like I am discovering something rather than inventing it — as though the right answer already exists and the work is simply finding it. There is also a quiet urgency to it, a feeling that what I am doing genuinely matters.

Pride, but also a kind of renewed energy. Seeing something move from sketch to physical object is never ordinary, no matter how many times it happens. It closes one chapter and immediately opens the next. Fulfillment and inspiration at the same time.

Rigor and courage in equal measure. High standards of quality, a willingness to prototype repeatedly across different materials, and — crucially — a comfort with failure. Some of our most important design decisions came directly from something that did not work. Failure is not the opposite of success in design; it is part of the process.

I always look for what is good first. Every design contains an intention, and understanding that intention honestly is the only fair starting point for evaluation. Criticism without first finding what works is not critique — it is just negativity.

To make life easier and more beautiful — and to take both of those equally seriously. We have a short time here. The environments we inhabit, the objects we use daily, the light we live under — these things shape our experience of being alive. A designer who understands that carries real responsibility. We should also design with longevity in mind: objects that last, that age well, that do not become waste.

AI and emerging technologies will generate forms and possibilities we cannot currently imagine. But I believe the role of the designer becomes more important, not less — because technology needs human judgment to give it meaning and direction. The future of design is not automation. It is a new kind of collaboration between human intuition and machine capability.

We are currently preparing to open SHRE LAB in Tbilisi — a multi-layered design laboratory conceived as a space for concept development, prototyping, production, and exhibition under one roof. It is the most ambitious project we have undertaken as a studio, and we envision it becoming a permanent home for our work and a platform for the wider Georgian design community.

From three places primarily: the work of others — designers, architects, artists across history and disciplines; nature, which remains the most sophisticated and unresolved design system that exists; and the piece itself — the way a material behaves, the way a proportion feels, the way a prototype reveals something unexpected. Sometimes the design tells you what it wants to become.

Minimalist in structure, warm in feeling. We are drawn to what might be called a Japandi sensibility — the intersection of Japanese restraint and Scandinavian functionality — but filtered through a Georgian cultural lens that adds its own symbolic depth. The result is work that is quiet but not cold, refined but not sterile. Luxury, for us, is not about excess — it is about precision and intentionality.

I live in Tbilisi, Georgia — a city layered with history, symbolism, and traditions that are still largely unknown to the wider world. That invisibility is something I feel strongly about changing. Georgia has an extraordinarily rich visual and cultural heritage, and I see it as part of SHRE's mission to bring that into conversation with contemporary international design. Our Georgian identity is not a limitation — it is a perspective that makes our work distinct.

Primarily through B2B collaborations — with manufacturers, developers, hospitality brands, and design-oriented businesses who understand the value of working with a studio that brings both creative and strategic thinking. We are always interested in partnerships where there is genuine mutual ambition.

Choose a designer whose thinking challenges you, not just one who executes your brief. The best outcomes come from genuine creative tension — when a company trusts a designer enough to be surprised. Look for curiosity and conviction, not just a portfolio.

It begins with research — understanding the problem, the context, the user, the material possibilities. Then sketching, which for me is thinking made visible. Then prototyping — many times, across different materials, at different scales. I believe strongly in making things with your hands at early stages. Being your own manufacturer, at least temporarily, teaches you things about a design that no software can reveal.

A well-made ceramic object whose weight feels exactly right. A lamp that creates the right shadow at the right moment. A chair that has been sat in so many times it has become a record of time. A book whose cover design is as considered as its contents. And a material sample — stone, metal, or wood — that sits on my desk as a reminder of what physical quality actually feels like.

Work, movement, and looking. I start with the studio — reviewing work in progress, meeting the team, solving problems. I make time to move, physically — it clears the mind and resets perspective. And throughout the day I am always looking: at how light falls, at proportions, at the way people inhabit spaces. Inspiration is not something I wait for. It is something I stay open to.

Persist. Fail without embarrassment. The difference between designers who build something meaningful and those who don't is rarely talent — it is the willingness to continue when the work is hard and the results are uncertain. Also: make things with your hands as early and as often as possible. Physical making teaches lessons that no screen can.

The greatest positive is that you spend your life solving problems through beauty — there are very few professions where those two things coexist so naturally. The most difficult aspect is the sustained belief required. You must believe in your work before anyone else does, often long before any external validation arrives. That requires a particular kind of resilience.

User first. Always. A design that does not serve the person who lives with it has failed, regardless of how beautiful it is.

The ability to find inspiration anywhere — in a texture, a conversation, a shadow, a structural detail. Curiosity is the foundation of everything. Beyond that: the ability to communicate ideas clearly, to listen carefully, and to remain critical of your own work without losing confidence in it.

Sketchbooks and pencils at the beginning — always. Then CAD software and 3D modeling tools for development. 3D printing for prototyping complex geometries. Routers and hand tools for physical model making. And an ongoing library of material samples, because understanding materials requires touching them, not just seeing them on a screen.

By protecting the time that matters most. Creative thinking requires uninterrupted space — I try to reserve early mornings or late evenings for deep work, and use the middle of the day for meetings and communication. Time management in a studio is ultimately about understanding which tasks require your full presence and which do not.

It depends entirely on the object and the ambition. A year is not unusual for a product we care about deeply. But in another sense, a design is never truly finished — there are always new colorways to explore, materials to test, proportions to refine. Moono continues to evolve. That openness to ongoing refinement is part of what keeps the work alive.

"What inspires you?" — which is both the easiest and hardest question to answer. Everything, honestly. But specifically: other makers, natural systems, Georgian cultural heritage, and the behavior of materials under different conditions.

Opening SHRE Studio. The decision to build something of your own — with its own identity, its own values, its own way of working — is the most formative experience a designer can have. It forces clarity about what you actually believe.

We work with private residential clients, investors, and design-oriented businesses across Georgia and internationally, with a primary focus on the Italian and French markets.

Concept development — the earliest stage, when everything is still possible. There is a particular freedom in that phase that I find irreplaceable. The subsequent stages of refinement and production are equally important, but the moment of conception, when an idea first finds its form, is what I live for.

SHRE LAB is our most immediate and important priority — a physical space in Tbilisi that integrates concept development, prototyping, production, and exhibition. It is the infrastructure we need to grow. Beyond that, we are actively expanding into European markets, with a particular focus on Italy and France, and developing new product lines that continue the direction established by Moono.

I develop the concepts and direction myself, but my team is essential to making them real. Design at SHRE is a collective act — the ideas may originate with me, but they are realized, refined, and improved through the intelligence and skill of everyone in the studio.

We are currently developing a series of lighting objects inspired by Georgian symbolic heritage — forms drawn from ancient ornamental systems that have never been translated into contemporary product design. It is work that feels important to us, both creatively and culturally.

Through our website at shre.ge, where you can find our portfolio, current projects, and contact information.

We are actively looking for collaborations — with manufacturers, distributors, galleries, and design-oriented brands who share our values. SHRE is a young studio with clear ambitions and a distinctive point of view, and we believe the most interesting work comes from the right partnerships. If our work resonates with you, we would love to hear from you.