Inside the New Chabanel workshop of Montreal designer Finkel'

Daniel Finkelstein sits on a handmade wooden stool in his Chabanel workshop, surrounded by the organized chaos of lumber racks, power tools, and half-finished furniture pieces.

"To this day, whenever I draw a custom furniture piece that will go into a space, and when I first get the real version produced and I can touch it, I still always get that feeling of excitement..." he says, pausing. 

"Like, I can't believe I drew this and it's real. I still get that feeling every time I make something."

The honest admission says a lot coming from the founder of Finkel', a commercial space and furniture design studio based in Montreal. Over the past decade, Finkelstein has designed the likes of floating marble counters at Villeray's Boutique Archive, the space that houses hand-painted murals and checkerboard tiles that make Little Italy's Pasta Pooks stand out, to the circular skate-bowl display at Exoplus. 

Even now, four large-scale projects are in motion including Empire's new downtown flagship that includes a restaurant and café in the old Archambault on the corner of Sainte-Catherine Street Ouest and Berri; Mezcla, the little sister to restaurant Capisco in the Old Port; Hibahihi, a yakitori restaurant on Plaza St-Hubert; and a much-awaited full dine-in restaurant from Pasta Pooks.

Yet if you've been in any of these spaces, you might not know Finkel' was involved in the design. In some ways, that’s an effect of the studio’s versatility.

"If you look at my body of work, it's sometimes hard to be like, oh, this is a Finkel’ project, because they'll be completely different from one to the other," Finkelstein explains. "I don't believe in imposing my style on my clients, because in the end, these are businesses... they need to create an experience that will attract customers and help bring in revenue.” 

“If you're just doing stuff that everybody else is doing, it makes it harder for people to choose you from the pack," he continues. "I try to let my ego stay low and focus on my projects."

It’s an anti-ego approach that’s Finkel's secret weapon in Montreal's increasingly competitive design landscape. Instead of imposing signature aesthetics for appeal on social media, Finkelstein disappears into his clients' needs, emerging with spaces that feel unique.

A chameleonic methodology

The philosophy might sound simple, but the execution requires detective work. Finkelstein describes his research process with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely can't help himself: "When I go to restaurants, I'm touching everything. I'm rubbing the walls. I’ll be at a shop for clothes, but I’ll just be focused on the fixtures in the end."

This tactile curiosity stems from his mechanical engineering background at Concordia, where he learned to understand how things are actually made. "I've always liked taking stuff apart," he says. "When I was young, I'd have a remote control car and I would break it and then I'd take it all apart... I couldn't necessarily put it back together, but I would try and fix things."

That mix of analytical thinking and hands-on problem-solving shows up in every Finkel’ project. Take Pasta Pooks, where Finkelstein and his team created an authentic Italian atmosphere in a compact five-seat space: The design marries checkerboard walls and oak moldings with rough plaster walls that suggest decades of history. Two hand-painted murals by local artist Dre Wilkin—one depicting a pastoral countryside scene, another showing beachgoers—transport diners from Little Italy to the old country. What makes the space work isn't the individual elements, but how they come together to support the story Pasta Pooks wants to tell.

Contrast that with Exoplus, the skateboard shop that required an entirely different cultural vocabulary: Custom aluminum racks echo the curves of skate ramps, used textured acrylic stucco walls that nod to grip tape, and a circular cage display that feels like being inside a skate bowl. 

These are only two projects, but the range here is striking, all with a consistent thread: each space feels completely authentic to its purpose and community, designed for the people to actually use the space according to the clients' intentions.

The Chabanel advantage

Part of what enables this approach is Finkel's setup in Montreal's evolving Chabanel district. Like many Mile End deserters, Finkelstein moved north when rising rents and tech company influx pushed out local makers. "A lot of people from Mile End are moving up here," he explains. "A lot of designers and manufacturers, just because Mile End got so expensive."

But the move wasn't just about cost. "The big advantage we noticed is getting everywhere from here is so quick compared to being in Mile End. Anytime I need to go see suppliers, it's either St. Leonard, Ville Saint-Laurent, Laval. From here? It just takes 20 minutes to get anywhere."

The Chabanel workshop itself reflects Finkel's design philosophy. It's a shared space with other woodworkers, including furniture maker Mitz Takahashi and mirror maker Devon Munro. The setup allows for both design work and fabrication, with an office area seamlessly connected to the workshop floor. Stacks of lumber reach the ceiling, tools hang in organized arrays, and works in progress sit at various stages of completion.

This integration of design and fabrication shows up in projects like the cantilevered Taj Mahal marble counter at Boutique Archive, where a jewelry display becomes a gravity-defying sculpture, or the built-in speaker systems at Lloydie's Caribbean restaurant that turn the entire space into a sonic landscape.

Function over fashion

Finkelstein's mechanical engineering training becomes especially apparent when he talks about the balance between aesthetics and functionality.

"I feel like as designers, we often get caught up in wanting to win awards or wanting to do the most original thing ever. But if, in the end, it doesn't function well—if the staff can't get around, if people can't see the products—even though it looks amazing in a photo, then you've kind of failed because the business is still going to struggle."

"I really like to analyze what the offering is, who the client is... but what's really important is that it needs to be functional while still looking good,” he reinforces. 

This practical mindset extends to trend forecasting. Finkelstein has a knack for being slightly ahead of the curve—he was using travertine before it became ubiquitous, and he's already moved on to other materials.

"You try to at least be ahead, because in a restaurant, especially in restaurants in fact, it moves so quickly. If you're already using a trend that's really popular now, by the time you open in six months, people will be over it."

And then there’s the reluctance to self-promote. It’s far more strategic than false modesty. In an industry increasingly driven by personal brands and social media presence, Finkelstein has found success by focusing on the work itself. Most of his business comes through word of mouth and client referrals, a testament to the trust he builds through consistent delivery.

The Montreal difference

What emerges from Finkel's portfolio is a portrait of Montreal's contemporary culture in all its diversity. Spaces will serve their immediate commercial purposes as much as they contribute to the cultural fabric of their neighbourhoods.

This might be the key to understanding Finkel's success: the recognition that great design isn't about imposing a vision, but about listening deeply and responding authentically. What’s more valuable than a signature style is offering spaces that are valued by the people who use them.

Back in the Chabanel workshop, surrounded by the tools and materials that will become someone else's dream space, Finkelstein returns to that fundamental joy in making. 

"For me, it's just about being able to create stuff that doesn't exist yet," he reflects.