Nora Khereddine is a master of intentional curation, connected through composition, material and transformation. We had a conversation about impactful objects and what it means to practice conscious reduction in a fast-paced world.
Would you give us a peek into your path as a creative?
Before founding Nora Khereddine Objects in 2020, I worked as a freelance lifestyle editor for various print publications. Through that work, I had the opportunity to meet many inspiring people and hear the stories behind the objects they created – their making processes, inspirations, and motivations. Over time, I felt a growing desire to offer these objects a platform that went beyond simply writing about them.
At the same time, I found myself going through a period of personal questioning during the pandemic. With budgets shrinking across the publishing industry, commissions became increasingly scarce, and I felt a strong need for a new beginning. Founding my own platform emerged from that desire to create something more meaningful and lasting.
Was there a particular moment, object or experience that first made you see your relationship with the things around you in a different light?
Objects have always had a profound influence on me. Even as a child, I felt almost magnetically drawn to beautiful objects. I have always felt more at ease in environments that I perceived as beautiful and harmonious. Conversely, spaces that felt aesthetically unsettling would trigger a very physical sense of discomfort in me. That sensitivity has stayed with me to this day.
You've recently entered into a new constellation with The Living Practice; a collaborative field between art, design, and perception. How has this work unfolded so far, and what's to come?
Yes, my friend and business partner Laura Trumpp and I wanted to create a place that goes beyond the idea of a traditional store.
We are interested in creating connections between art, design, wellbeing, and everyday life through exhibitions, workshops, gatherings, and collaborations. It is a platform that allows us to explore how we relate to objects and spaces in a more conscious way.
In our first exhibition, Kitchen Stories we reflected on the kitchen as a place of memory, ritual and connection. Looking ahead, we are currently developing a workshop series that will expand on some of these themes. The programme will include a Miso-making workshop as well as a small lecture series focusing Traditional Chinese Medicine and its perspectives on nourishment, balance and daily practices.
For us, The Living Practice is still evolving, which is part of what makes it so exciting. Rather than defining it too rigidly, we see it as an open framework, one that can grow organically through dialogue, curiosity and collaboration.
The idea of a living practice implies continuous learning. What are you currently unlearning, questioning or rethinking – in your work and in your life?
What I am currently unlearning is a deeply ingrained belief that I have to carry everything on my own – both professionally and personally.
I am also trying to let go of the idea that clarity must always be immediately available. Instead, I am learning to trust processes that unfold slowly and reveal themselves over time.
Many answers do not lie in adding something new, but in gently letting go of what no longer serves us.
For me, this may be the true meaning of a living practice: remaining open to change and continuously questioning one's own perspective.
What rituals, habits or practices help you stay connected to the values that underpin your work, especially in a culture that moves so quickly?
More than a ritual, it is probably a way of life: the conscious act of leaving things out.
I try to surround myself only with things that I truly need or have a meaningful relationship with. Because my mind tends to operate at a very fast pace, I need clarity and breathing room around me. I find it difficult to live with an excess of possessions. For me, reduction is not an aesthetic concept but a form of care.
Many people feel overwhelmed by the scale of environmental challenges and surrounding clutter. What small act of care, repair, or attention do you believe holds more power than we often realize?
I believe one of the most powerful acts is simply paying closer attention to the things we already own. In a culture that is constantly focused on what comes next, value is often confused with novelty. There is a quote by Vivienne Westwood that I often think about: "Buy less, choose well, make it last." It really says it all.
I am aware that this may sound somewhat paradoxical coming from someone who runs a shop. But I have never been interested in encouraging consumption for its own sake. What interests me is the relationship we build with the things we choose to bring into our lives. If an object is made with care, chosen thoughtfully, and kept for many years, then it occupies a very different place than something acquired on impulse and quickly forgotten.
Many people feel powerless in the face of global challenges, and I completely understand that. Yet I believe that every conscious decision against excess and in favour of a deeper relationship with the things we own is a form of responsibility. Not because it will change the world on its own, but because it changes our mindset.
At the same time, I am very aware that I am speaking from a position of privilege. I live in a safe country, I have a home, and I am healthy. The ability to reflect on conscious consumption, reduction, or the meaning of objects requires a certain degree of freedom and stability. Not everyone has the privilege of making decisions based on personal values or convictions.
Image credit portrait © Elias Hassos
