I grew up on a rose farm in South Africa. My family were horticulturists. The property had a small engineering workshop with a scrap yard out the back. I was making things from metal before I left school.
The briar rose is the rootstock we grafted our cultivated roses onto. A simple flower, five petals, uncomplicated and pretty in its own right. But its real value is underground. Deep roots, tough wood, holding everything together so the modern varieties can flourish. Without the briar, you don't have a rose farm.
That idea stayed with me. A strong foundation that makes beautiful things possible.
I left South Africa in my twenties, lived in Holland, worked in tech, and eventually landed in Brisbane. I spent over eleven years at G.James, one of Australia's largest glass and aluminium fabricators, working across IT and marketing. I wasn't on the factory floor, but I was surrounded by materials every day. I saw how glass, aluminium, and steel were specified and applied on major projects. That exposure shaped how I think about materials. What performs. What degrades. What lasts.
When I started making sculpture full-time, I brought that thinking with me. I chose materials that don't fail. I care about every millimetre. The best things are made by hand, with intention, for a specific place.
When we planned our new home in Brookfield, I wanted a woodfire grill that matched the quality of everything else we were building. I looked at what was available. The mass-market grills are built to a price. Five years and they're rusting on the kerb. The serious imports are good, but I wanted something I'd designed myself, built to the specifications I knew from years of working with these materials.
So I made one. Then I worked out the numbers and made two.
The name comes from where I started. Strong roots. Something built to hold.
Jaco Roeloffs
Brookfield, Queensland
The Maker
