
A wire-grid lounge chair sounds like a hard sell for an afternoon off. Yet Moritz Schmid’s Patio Chair for Swiss furniture maker Embru has a visual ease that makes me want to give it a chance. The open seat and back leave much of the chair transparent, while the frame gives it a clear outline. Its more persuasive detail, though, addresses a familiar frustration: having to replace an entire object because one part has given up.
Embru describes the construction as modular, with individual components that can be replaced or repaired. A specially developed mounting system accommodates different seating surfaces. That makes the announced chair interesting beyond its appearance. If the seat becomes damaged, the design allows the remaining structure to stay in use. I’d rather see that possibility built into a chair from the beginning than encounter it as an expensive customer-service question later.
Designer: Moritz Schmid for Embru
The visible connection between backrest and frame is worth a closer look. In Embru’s detail photograph, a circular metal fitting interrupts the blue grid, making the attachment point part of the composition. It’s a small, deliberate-looking piece of hardware, and I like that it hasn’t been disguised. You can read the chair as an assembly of parts. Visually, that gives the repairability story a little credibility before anyone starts explaining the engineering.
The material options give that construction another purpose. Embru plans an outdoor grid version and an indoor version with wood-veneer panels, including oak, ash, black ash, and walnut. Listed finishes include wine red, gray-blue, black, and silver hot-dip galvanizing. My preference would be the gray-blue grid: it gives the industrial geometry enough color to feel intentional without turning the chair into the loudest object on the patio.
The wood version changes the visual balance considerably. Where the grid lets the background pass through, the broad panels create solid planes. The rear view of the black version makes this especially clear: the backrest reads almost like a sheet suspended above the slender frame. That’s a useful distinction for anyone who likes the underlying shape but doesn’t want outdoor furniture setting the tone inside their living room.
Schmid has explored related territory with Embru before. His earlier Park Chair uses a tubular steel frame, with curved rear legs that give a straightforward garden chair an unexpectedly animated profile. Embru says that design was developed around the manufacturing capabilities at its Rüti factory. I appreciate that context because it makes the Patio Chair feel less like an isolated styling exercise. There’s an ongoing conversation here between a designer, a material, and the people equipped to shape it.
Appearance only gets a lounge chair so far, of course. I’d want to sit in the grid version before calling it an all-afternoon favorite. The photographs establish its shape, not how the seating surface feels after an hour with a book. For me, that’s the unresolved question that matters most. An appealing frame and replaceable parts are good reasons to pay attention, but neither substitutes for getting comfortable. The word “lounge” still has work to do.
Embru currently expects the Patio Chair to become available at the end of 2026. Its preview doesn’t provide a price or confirm US availability. I’d also want to know how replacement parts will be ordered and priced. Designing a component to come off is valuable; making its replacement straightforward to obtain is what turns that decision into a useful ownership benefit.
Still, the premise earns my interest. I don’t need every chair to become a family heirloom, and I’m wary of furniture being described as timeless before anyone has lived with it. I do want the option to keep a chair I like when one component wears out. The Patio Chair gives that ordinary expectation a considered form. Provided the parts support follows through, its most attractive feature may become apparent years after the first photograph.