Where Fine Art Meets Strategy: Inside Cyrice Griffith's World of Luxury Chess Design

Cyrice Griffith, FRSA never intended to become a chessboard artist. But the moment her nine-year-old son came home one day in 2010 and asked to teach her how to play chess, something profound shifted. In the middle of a divorce and seeking moments of clarity and connection, Griffith found herself immersed in a quiet, strategic space where conversation, bonding, and introspection flourished. Chess became a lifeline, a language, and eventually, a canvas.

"I was obsessed at that time," she recalls. "There was no TV, no distractions, just us, playing, talking about life. It was not about winning. It was about being present with my son."

That experience sparked something bigger. When Christmas rolled around and nothing on the market felt special enough, she decided to make him a chess set herself. She spent over a month scouring antique markets and salvage yards to find the right pieces. On Christmas morning, her son stared at the finished board and said, "Mom, did you make that? You could sell these."

He was right. And with that, Griffith began what would become a singular creative journey. Today, as the founder of Griffith Chess Designs, Cyrice Griffith, a master of assemblage art, is crafting a world where chess intersects with architecture, design, and story. Each of her sets is wholly unique, composed of reclaimed materials, everything from discarded car parts to antique furniture elements. "I love giving things a second life," she says. "Reclaiming cast-offs, finding architecture in the ordinary, that's the magic."

A lifelong creative and program development expert, Griffith spent years designing transformative programs for major institutions. But this new pursuit offered her a different form of impact. Her chess sets are not mass-produced or 3D-printed. They are sculptural compositions. "These are not products," she emphasizes. "They are narratives, every piece has a past, a personality. These sets are metaphors for community and strategy and design."

Griffith's process is deeply instinctive. While the pawns are often chosen last, her design begins when she finds a "king" or "queen", a piece that carries weight, power, or elegance. Once that anchor is found, the rest of the set begins to form organically. Sometimes she works on three or four sets at once, letting the inspiration of a single material, glass, crystal, or metal, guide the creative arc of each board.

Her boards, too, are handcrafted, often featuring hand-etched glass patterns and custom-designed bases. "The board is not just the playing surface," she explains. "It's a piece of furniture. It's a stage. It has to hold the same weight as the pieces themselves." And in many cases, Griffith even restores or builds the base structures herself, learning welding and new techniques along the way. "Every set is an opportunity to push myself," she adds.

Griffith's influences run deep, as her father was an architect and city planner. Her affinity for architecture is not just nostalgic; it's fundamental to her aesthetic. "I see every chessboard as a cityscape. The skyline of the pieces, their proportions, it all reminds me of built environments."

It's also about education and legacy. Through her past work introducing underserved youth to architecture and design, Griffith understands the transformative power of access. "Everything we touch is design. Everything we walk into is architecture," she says. "Helping young people see that gives them agency. Making these chess sets is my way of honoring design and teaching through metaphor."

Her pieces have not gone unnoticed. Her creations won a prestigious International Interior Design Association (IIDA) Sustainability Award, a recognition that reinforces her values around repurposing and sustainability. And when asked if she has favorites, Griffith mentions "Antique Ottoman," one of her first sets, and "Suspended Elegance," a sold piece made of crystal and filigree. "I say my pieces find their owners," she states. "Some pieces I make, and I know exactly who they are meant for when they come."

Griffith's ultimate goal is not simply sales, it's resonance. She wants to reach potential individuals who appreciate fine art and singular craftsmanship. "You don't need to be a chess player," she says. "But you do need to understand the value of design and story. My clients are art lovers, collectors, people who see meaning in material."

In an era of replication and instant production, Cyrice Griffith is defiantly analog. Every inconsistency in her etching, every curve of a refurbished table leg, every salvaged hardware piece tells a story. And together, those stories make something greater than the sum of their parts. But more importantly, those stories become new stories, stories that are shared from generation to generation as heirlooms and prized possessions.

"Each set is a tribute to design, to reinvention, to the idea that beauty can be built from what others overlook."