Inside LA Design Week/end 2026: A City of Creative Connections

When New Yorkers land in Los Angeles, the first thing that rattles them is, “Where is everyone?” Unlike the bustling life on Manhattan sidewalks, people in LA tend to stay in their bubbles. Life in this city is deeply insular that way. But you adapt. You curate a bubble of haunts and neighborhoods, and then you navigate to those bubbles from inside another bubble: your car, or, if you’re Gen Z, a Waymo.

Holland Denvir tackled that problem head-on in 2024 when they co-founded LA Design Week/end (LAD/W) alongside Meghan McNeer, who serves as creative director. Now in its third year, the festival brought together more than 130 designers, studios, galleries, and brands across more than 15 Los Angeles neighborhoods during the first week of October, drawing thousands of locals and visitors beyond the beaches and Hollywood sign to discover what makes this city tick: its creative community.

LA Design Week/end co-founder Holland Denvir helped bring together more than 130 designers, studios, galleries, and brands for the festival’s third edition. Photography by Michelle Pullman.

Attempting to make the rounds at all the studios involved would be overwhelming, but like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, the fun is in discovering how many versions of the festival you can experience. What follows is my experience and chosen stops at LA Design Week/end 2026.

Work and gallery spaces inside Small Green Door. Photography by Sydni Stearns.

My first stop was Small Green Door (SGD), a creative studio set in an unassuming cluster of warehouses on the only tree-lined street in Boyle Heights’ industrial zone. A bright soul waved me into the courtyard—Denvir, as I later learned. There, we met SGD’s co-founder Leo Estévez, who graciously walked us through the complex, which includes artist workspaces, an R&D kitchen, several galleries, and even a bunker.

After the Tide, an open-call group show curated by Nadia Khagani and Rose Zhang, gathered 19 artists and designers whose work is shaped by the forces of nature—mostly ceramics, many with a gothic edge. A sonic water installation by Edge Sound Research grounded the presentation, alongside sand pedestals made at the studio. While circulating through the sea of sand pedestals, I couldn’t help imagining the bay scallop and pineapple guava aguachile I’d kill to serve in Kimberly Meyer’s shallow clay bowls, featured in the show.

Before leaving SGD, Estévez handed out retro cassette cases filled with mini zines. Like a secret skate spot of yesteryear, each held a hidden green key, which supposedly gets you into the studio.

Kimberly Meyer’s Shallow Clay Bowls from ‘After the Tide,’ an open-call group show curated by Nadia Khagani and Rose Zhang at Small Green Door in Los Angeles. Photography by TJ Girard.

Over lunch with Holland at Henrietta in Echo Park, we chatted about the festival’s beginnings and evolution. They chose this small, unassuming brick storefront—a market-driven sandwich shop by day and California bistro by night, helmed by owner Mark Lesser. He regaled us with stories of growing up in the storage room of his mother’s toy store back east and the arduous process of ordering the understated tiles lining the counter’s façade.

Henrietta is a quintessential neighborhood spot with a gourmet bodega-like corner for picking up giftable olive oil, fancy chocolate bars, and bottles of wine. But the mountainous, snowy Parmesan-capped radicchio salad is what stays with me, along with the most decadent fried smashed potatoes, which were impossible to leave unfinished.

Between courses, Holland explained the thinking behind LAD/W’s approach: “We want LAD/W to be accessible to everyone. Whether you’re in the design industry or not. We want people to come discover and connect with the creatives that make LA special.”

The format is deliberately decentralized. Rather than being anchored to a convention center or a single design district, LAD/W unfolds across the city: each day centers on one or a cluster of Eastside neighborhoods, with events planned around one another so you can move by foot, bike, scooter, or Metro.

“Leave your car at home? In LA?” I asked Holland.

“I want every moment you spend participating to be about discovery and connection, not sitting in your car in traffic; we can do that any other day of the week,” they replied.

To prove this point, after lunch we walked down the block to see Our Joy is Resistance at Alabaster Gallery, hosted by Enzo. But what came next was a true example of why I really do love Los Angeles.

‘Our Joy is Resistance’ at Alabaster Gallery. Photography by Sydni Stearns.

Enter the Living Paul McCobb Museum, where I met Yogi Proctor and, later that evening, his wife, documentary filmmaker Carol Martori. Proctor, a British transplant who came to the States through skateboarding, turned his private obsession into a living museum dedicated to collecting, preserving, and studying McCobb’s 1950s Planner Group furniture and its accompanying accessory lines.

Vignettes from inside the Living Paul McCobb Museum. Photography by TJ Girard.

In the 1950s, Paul McCobb’s name was synonymous with American-made furniture. The Manhattan-based designer was even among the first to embrace the idea of a designer’s signature as a brand. By adding a watermark stamp at first, and later a foil mark, McCobb made his work easy to identify.

A collection must start somewhere: I learned Proctor first came across a McCobb piece while living in Chicago. After 20 years of collecting, his midcentury Silver Lake home (built in 1949 and remodeled in 2017) now houses a third of his collection.

Vignettes from inside the Living Paul McCobb Museum. Photography by TJ Girard.

Walking through the museum, you are surrounded by McCobb, stacked on top of more McCobb. At one point, for fun, I started to look for the non-McCobb items: a cat sculpture by the front entrance, a wall of books in the study, and anniversary cards on the nightstand. But back in the living room, the bright colors and remarkably minimal shapes of the Contempri tableware and functional objects on display caught my eye.

Proctor explained that in 1957, McCobb worked with porcelain makers in Japan on what became an early example of dishwasher-safe porcelain tableware. We talked about the trickiness of a living museum—the wear and tear that comes with actually using the objects day to day. I confessed my own hesitation about using my Wagenfeld-designed Kubus glass storage jars for fear of chipping one. But like McCobb’s work, the design is simply too brilliant not to use.

Vibrant and colorful Contempri tableware on display inside the Paul McCobb Living Museum. Photography by TJ Girard.

I then made my way to the Silver Lake Reservoir and Richard Neutra’s former home, now the Neutra VDL Studio and Residences, a National Historic Landmark and house museum committed to education, architecture, art, and culture. There, the Yamaha Design Laboratory, the company’s in-house design division, established in 1963, presented Companionship. The exhibit positioned musical instruments as companions that stay by one’s side throughout life. Ten design works and instruments were placed throughout the space for visitors to explore.

Classic guitar stand-stool designed for living with the instrument. Photography courtesy of Yamaha.

On the ground floor, we met multimedia artist and photographer Johnny Le, who served as guest curator. His photographs, taken at Yamaha’s headquarters and piano factory in Japan, were also on view. The exploded overhead view of every single part of a Yamaha piano was quite impressive. Then we moved upstairs to experience two guitar stand-stools designed for living with the instrument, and the TransAcoustic guitar, which can play music via Bluetooth.

The exhibition also included the first public showing of a prototype for Dreaming of the Sea, a low chair made with Karimoku Case that produces soothing, wave-like sounds when you sit on the cushion and move gently. The small metal balls inside roll and rub against one another, shifting from crashing waves to quiet ripples.

We ended our visit on the roof, where Manabu Kawada’s The Backrest for Sky Viewers was on display. According to Yamaha Design Laboratory, while leaning back on the plank of wood and looking up at the endless bright sky, everybody can believe in the beauty of the world.

Prototype for “Dreaming of the Sea,” a low chair made with Karimoku Case and Yamaha Design Lab. Photography courtesy of Yamaha.

By evening, I made my way to the Haas Brothers‘ studio, ready to party. Once again, the building’s exterior was unassuming—but once inside, you couldn’t help but smile with delight, surrounded by whimsical sculptures scattered throughout the fabrication shop where they were made.

The food displays by Zehra Ahmed were fittingly sculptural and playful. Among a dotted line of long-stemmed roses, two serpentine sandwiches made with braided brioche stretched more than 10 feet long atop a suede-like tablecloth, split apart and laced together to form a runner. I spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to find the seams that achieved this grand length, and I was admittedly very impressed with the execution. Dessert was a rectangular bed of sugar-dusted doughnut holes with three dipping sauces on pedestals. It felt a bit underwhelming by comparison. It wasn’t until the end of the evening that I stumbled onto the back patio, where freshly made wood-fired pizzas and a selection of natural wines were being served.

A food display by Zehra Ahmed at Haas Brothers LAD/W opening event. Photography by TJ Girard

One thing I’m still sorry to have missed: Los Angeles Sets a Table at Ravenhill Studio. The space featured two tables representing dawn and dusk, with contrasting palettes that brought clarity to a wide range of work. Cathy Callahan initially had the idea back in 2019, and it finally came together this year with curators Chelito Villaflor and Chris Albanese of Thought Forms Studio. The tablescape exhibition celebrated gathering in real life around things made by hand.

‘Los Angeles Sets a Table’ at Ravenhill Studio. Photography by Christopher Dibble.

If this edition of LAD/W proved anything, it’s that LA’s design community is bringing people together without a convention center, inviting them to leave their bubbles and stroll through someone else’s. Though many people I met were from LA or had lived here for decades, the recurring thread throughout my conversations was the pleasure of experiencing these particular parts of the city through studio visits. And of course, the people-watching and outfits at the evening events almost superseded the artwork and design on display!

Photography by Caitlin Parker