Twice a year, the Hutton Brickyards in Kingston turns into a kind of upscale souk for the handmade set, when Field + Supply rolls its reclaimed-wood wagon onto the riverfront. The Markt (that’s “market,” but cooler) gathers 200-plus makers under one sprawling industrial skyline of old kilns and smokestacks, with the Hudson shimmering as backdrop. It’s a place where linen meets leather, clay meets candle wax, and every other booth has a backstory that involves leaving a corporate job to “finally follow my passion.” The vibe is equal parts Catskills chic and Brooklyn flea, but without the musty thrift-store cardigans. Instead: ceramics, textiles, furniture, botanicals, and small-batch beverages—all of it designed, sourced, and crafted with obsessive devotion. With so many booths, you could lose a weekend’s worth of browsing, but we’ve whittled down a list of Hudson Valley all-stars whose work is exceptional, soulful, and distinctly of this place.
M Quan Studio
Michele Quan’s ceramics look like they could have been unearthed from some desert temple where monks commune with the moon. But nope, they’re hand-built in her Saugerties studio. Her bells, planters, and wall hangings carry a cosmic geometry—stars, eyes, crescent moons—that make them feel like protective talismans for the modern home. Quan trained as a painter before finding clay, and the painter’s touch lingers in her surface work: delicate, deliberate, alive. These are objects meant to anchor a space, to hum quietly in the background while you burn incense or just make coffee. Mystical, yes, but also deeply functional.
Keap Candles
Keap is in the business of bottling memory, one clean-burning candle at a time. Founded by a pair of ex-Google guys who fled the algorithm for the alchemy of scent, Keap makes candles that smell like entire seasons: waves crashing, campfires dwindling, that first tomato ripening in the sun. The candles are coconut-wax based, toxin-free, and come in reusable tumblers—eco-conscious without ever being preachy. They also ship direct from Kingston, cutting out middlemen and maximizing integrity. A Keap candle doesn’t just perfume a room; it alters its mood, slows the clock a little, makes Tuesday night feel ceremonial.
Small Goods Design
Sam Shippee’s Small Goods Design is what happens when obsessive craft collides with playful geometry. His furniture and objects—benches, shelves, cabinets—combine the warmth of wood with surprising color fields and shapes. They’re minimal but not cold, functional but with a wink. Shippee grew up surrounded by tools in his grandfather’s garage, and the influence shows: precision dovetails meet bold experimentation. Based in Pine Plains, Small Goods feels both timeless and fresh, heirloom-quality with a dash of Memphis Group bravado. It’s design for people who believe daily life deserves objects that delight, not just serve. Even his cutting boards feel like modernist sculpture.
Slow Process
Calling Slow Process a “clothing label” undersells the whole project. It’s more like a wearable philosophy class disguised as a fashion line. Each garment—work coats, chore jackets, hats—is stitched with painstaking care in Kingston by founder Sam Zollman using deadstock fabrics and a whole lot of intention. The pieces are functional, yes, but they’re also meditations on labor, history, and community. Zollman works at the intersection of art and utility, producing clothes that look as at home in a gallery as they do in your workshop. Slow Process is clothing you don’t just wear—you live with it.
Valerie Shaff
Photographer Valerie Shaff has a way of catching the animal soul in sharp relief. Her portraits of dogs, in particular, are less about fur and collars than about personality: the tilt of an ear, the depth in the eyes, the nobility of drool. She’s shot everyone from strays to pedigrees, including my own mastiff-Lab mix, Clancy (pictured above, thanks Val!), who came out looking like he was ready for a Vanity Fair spread. At Field + Supply, Shaff brings prints and books that remind us pets aren’t accessories—they’re fellow travelers. Her work makes you want to run home and hug your mutt.
Utility Canvas
Since the ’90s, Utility Canvas has been outfitting homes and bodies in rugged cotton duck that wears in beautifully over decades. Think work jackets, totes, bedrolls, aprons—simple forms made to withstand time, kids, and dogs. The company is still family-run, and everything feels stitched with that old-school American durability you thought vanished with the last Levi’s factory. What’s remarkable is how well these utilitarian designs translate into modern life: a Utility Canvas bag looks as good at the farmers’ market as it does at baggage claim. Buy once, use forever, pass down—no fast fashion here, just permanence.
Kingbird
The future of cocktails is less about proof and more about flavor, and Kingbird is leading the low-ABV charge from right here in the Hudson Valley. Their spritz-ready aperitivos come in jewel-toned bottles, each built on botanicals and citrus instead of brute ethanol. Think Campari gone chill. At Field + Supply, they’ll be pouring samples that taste like summer afternoons stretched into eternity. Kingbird hits that sweet spot where you can have two or three and still drive home, chat with your neighbor, or, you know, get up for yoga in the morning. The drink of our times, bottled.
Made X Hudson
Made X Hudson is less a brand than an entire ecosystem for sustainable fashion. Based in Hudson and Catskill, they operate both as a design incubator and a production house, helping indie designers turn sketches into wearable collections. Their own line of clothing is rooted in circularity: recycled fabrics, natural dyes, timeless silhouettes. But what makes Made X Hudson exceptional is the community dimension—teaching, training, and employing local makers in an industry that too often outsources everything. This is fashion with the rare gift of conscience, proving that style and sustainability can walk the runway together.
Kathleen Andersen
Full disclosure: I own four of Kathleen Andersen’s engraved glasses. I’d own more if I didn’t keep breaking them, but that just gives me an excuse to order again. Andersen etches animals—orcas, pheasants, octopi—onto glassware with such precision and vitality they feel animated mid-prowl. Each glass is a little art piece you can actually drink from, elevating even tap water to ritual. Her work straddles the line between the decorative and the durable, as suitable for a wedding toast as it is for a Tuesday night whiskey. They’re gorgeous, fragile, and dangerously collectible. Handle with care—and reorder often.
FN Furniture
Ken Landauer of FN Furniture builds pieces that make you want to throw out all your IKEA mistakes and start fresh. Clean lines, solid wood, joinery that whispers quality instead of shouting trend. Their tables, chairs, and credenzas designed in Stone Ridge but feel international in their refinement—Danish modern with a Catskills soul. There’s nothing fussy here, just timeless proportions executed with respect for the material. The kind of furniture that, once in your home, recalibrates everything around it: Suddenly your rug looks shabby, your lamp inadequate. FN’s work reminds us that furniture isn’t just functional—it’s the architecture of daily life.
