A 1930s functionalist villa returned to bone and lime plaster, warmed with burnished brass and oak.
Fourteen keys above a harbour, each room a quiet study in travertine, wool, and low winter sun.
A single nine-metre table anchors a country house made for cooking, arguing, and staying late.
A palette we return to, season after season — quiet, tactile, and made to age.
We chart the sun across a full day before a single wall moves. Everything else answers to it.
Stone, wood, wool, plaster. Natural surfaces that earn their patina instead of hiding it.
We design for the version of you a decade from now — not this season’s photograph.
A house should feel inevitable — as if it could not have been any other way.