I used to think branch chandeliers were just for bougie farmhouse Instagram accounts, but then I tried making one in my own dining room and—wait, maybe I was wrong about everything.
The thing about working with actual tree branches is that they’re never symmetrical, never predictable, and honestly that’s the entire point. You’re not going for Pottery Barn perfection here. I’ve seen people spend weeks trying to find the “perfect” branch at craft stores, paying ridiculous amounts for pre-cleaned driftwood, when literally any decent-sized tree branch from your yard (or a park, with permission) works just fine. You want something roughly 2 to 4 feet long, depending on your table size, with smaller offshoots that can hold candle holders or light sockets. The wood should be dead and dry—not green, not rotting, just seasoned enough that it won’t warp or crack when you drill into it. Oak and maple work beautifully, but I’ve also used birch and even wild cherry branches that had this gorgeous reddish undertone nobody expected.
Turns out, the prep work is where most people give up. You need to strip the bark if it’s loose (sometimes it peels right off, sometimes you’re there with a wire brush for an hour), then sand everything smooth enough that nobody gets splinters during dinner parties. Some folks skip this step and regret it immedietly.
The Electrical Situation That Nobody Warns You About Properly
Here’s the thing—you absolutely need to hire an electrician if you’re hardwiring this into your ceiling junction box.
I don’t care how many YouTube tutorials make it look easy. Electrical codes exist for reasons involving fire and death, and DIY wiring violations can void your homeowner’s insurance faster than you’d think. What you CAN do yourself is the decorative part: threading pendant light cords through or around the branch, using zip ties or copper wire to secure everything, making sure the weight distribution doesn’t create a lopsided disaster. I’ve used anywhere from three to seven Edison bulbs on a single branch, depending on the size, and the total weight including the branch itself usually sits around 8 to 12 pounds. Your ceiling needs to support that, obviously. Use a ceiling joist or install a proper mounting bracket—toggle bolts in drywall alone won’t cut it for anything this heavy, and I learned that the hard way when a prototype came crashing down at 2 AM.
Candle Holders Versus Electric Lights and Why You Might Choose the Former Anyway
The non-electric route is honestly simpler. Small metal candle cups (the kind florists use) can be screwed or wire-wrapped directly onto branch offshoots, and suddenly you’ve got this medieval banquet hall vibe without touching a single wire. The obvious downside is that open flames require supervision, and you’ll need to keep the branch treated with a fire retardant spray—most hardware stores carry it, costs maybe $12 a can.
I guess it makes sense that people are nervous about this, but honestly, humans used candle chandeliers for centuries before electricity existed, and most of them didn’t burn their houses down.
Finishes That Actually Make Sense for a Piece of Dead Wood Hanging Over Your Food
You can leave the branch completely natural, which I’ve done, but after about six months it starts looking dusty and grey no matter how much you clean it. A coat of matte polyurethane seals the wood and makes it easier to wipe down—just don’t use anything glossy unless you want it to look plastic and weird. Some people go full rustic and apply a dark walnut stain, others whitewash it for that driftwood effect, and I’ve even seen branches wrapped partially in copper leaf or spray-painted matte black for a more modern industrial look. The finish you choose completely changes the mood: natural wood reads cozy farmhouse, black reads edgy bistro, whitewash reads coastal cottage. There’s no wrong answer, just different vibes for different dining rooms.
Hanging the Damn Thing Without Destroying Your Ceiling or Your Confidence
Mounting height matters more than you’d think. Too low and tall guests will hit their heads (ask me how I know), too high and the whole point of intimate lighting disappears. The general rule is roughly 30 to 36 inches above the table surface, give or take, but I’ve gone as low as 28 inches in rooms with lower ceilings and it worked fine. You’ll need steel aircraft cable or heavy-duty chain to suspend it—both available at hardware stores, both rated for way more weight than your branch actually is. I prefer chain because it’s easier to adjust the height later without re-drilling anything. Thread it through eye hooks screwed into the branch at two or three points for balance, then attach to your ceiling mount. The first time you hang it, get someone to help you hold it level while you step back and actually look at it from dining chair height, because what looks straight from a ladder often looks crooked from where people actually sit.
Anyway, the whole project usually takes a weekend if you’re methodical, maybe three evenings if you’re squeezing it in after work. But every single person who walks into your dining room will ask where you bought it, and that moment when you say “I made it” never gets old.
