We came home with 42 works, all crated and on their way back to New York, and I left convinced that Madrid deserves to be much higher on the list for anyone sourcing art. There is an extraordinary amount of talent here, and, perhaps most interestingly, the price point is incredibly reasonable, especially compared to the American art market. In Madrid, we were finding artists with incredible technical ability and strong points of view for a few thousand euros. Absolutely unheard of back home.

For me, the most interesting question when buying art is what happens when you take that work out of a gallery and put it into a public space. When you're choosing art for a hotel, residential development, workplace or lobby, you're thinking about emotion, atmosphere and accessibility at the same time. The work needs to have a point of view without making the person experiencing it feel like they need to understand the art world to appreciate it.

So, in the spirit of sharing a good find, here is exactly where we went, who I found, and what I would look at if I were planning an art-sourcing trip to Madrid today (or if you’re just looking for some great galleries to visit while you’re there). I sourced every gallery on this list myself, and there are some very good ones hiding in here.

Galleries Included:
Veta Gallery
Opera Gallery
Travesía Cuatro
Galería Elba Benítez
Sabrina Amrani Gallery
Galeria Artizar
F2 Galeria
Galleria Ehrhardt Flórez
Reina Sofía Museum*

Notable Artists:
Abraham Lacalle Studio (represented by Veta Gallery)
Juan Silio

Galleries:


Veta Gallery

Opera Gallery

Travesía Cuatro

Galería Elba Benítez

Sabrina Amrani Gallery

Galeria Artizar

F2 Galeria

Galleria Ehrhardt Flórez

*Reina Sofía Museum
While not a gallery, this museum is one of my favourites. Pictured below is Felix Gonzalez-Torres, Sweet Revenge, a must see exhibition that is on until October 2026.

Artist’s Studios:
Abraham Lacalle Studio (represented by Veta Gallery)

Juan Silio

A pair of COMTE ‘Croisillon’ table lamps designed by Jean-Michel Frank in Argentina circa 1935.

An Objet Insolite bronze table lamp, made in France.

—Brad

There is something about the transition into the warmer months that naturally makes people reassess the spaces they inhabit. At home, this instinct feels automatic. We tackle closets and garages that haven’t seen the light of day, windows are flung opened, furniture gets rearranged and rearranged again, and suddenly there is an awareness of what has quietly accumulated over the winter months. But in workplaces, this almost never happens.

Most offices operate under fiscal quarters, deadlines, launches, and deliverables, but rarely to the natural shifts happening around the people inside them. The lighting stays the same. The meeting cadence stays the same. Even as the city changes outside the windows, many workplaces continue moving forward as though nothing around them has shifted.

Lately, I have been thinking about how much offices could benefit from seasonal check-ins, not from an operational standpoint alone, but from a human one.

At our New York City based design firm, Float Studio, we spend a lot of time talking about how spaces function physically, but also emotionally. The design of a workplace does not exist in isolation. It is connected to the neighborhood around it, the rhythm of the city, the emotional state of the team, and the energy people carry with them into the office each day. Once I really understood that, it changed the way I thought about workplace culture entirely.

Within Float, my role has naturally evolved into being one of the caretakers of the organization. It is collaborative, of course, but I spend a great deal of time thinking about the organism that is our business and the people inside it. I consider what motivates people and what energizes them, as well as what creates friction, and ultimately how a space supports or inhibits those things. Designing workplaces for clients and thinking about the culture within our own studio are deeply connected practices for me because both rely on the same awareness: people do not work in a vacuum. And the transition into the warmer months, interestingly, tends to reveal that more clearly than any other time of year.

There is an energy shift that happens collectively once winter begins to loosen its grip, especially in cities like New York where people spend months moving between apartments, offices, and dark evenings with very little pause in between. Spring brings people back into the world a bit and by the time Summer is in full swing, there is more openness to gathering, more curiosity, more willingness to reconnect. New ideas tend to emerge more easily this time of year. Teams often feel more optimistic, more social, more energized.

The workplace should respond to that.

One of the simplest ways to start is by inviting people into your space. Host a gathering. Plan a team dinner. Bring clients in for drinks. It is amazing how quickly you begin to notice your office differently once outsiders are walking through it! The piles that have become invisible suddenly stand out. The awkward circulation path reveals itself. The furniture that no longer supports how your team works becomes obvious. Spaces fade into the background when we see them every day, but bringing fresh eyes into the environment forces a kind of reset.

It also creates an opportunity for reconnection internally. Offices have spent the last several years trying to answer what it means to gather again after the pandemic, and while hybrid work has changed expectations permanently, I still believe people want places worth coming into. Particularly in New York, where so many people live in small apartments, the workplace can offer something emotionally expansive if it is designed thoughtfully. Not just aesthetically, but culturally.

A connection to the outside world is often what workplaces are missing most.

There is a reason casinos and airports feel disorienting. They disconnect you from time, weather, and place. Offices can accidentally do the same thing. People arrive in the morning, sit beneath static lighting all day, eat lunch at their desks, and leave after sunset having barely interacted with the actual world around them. Over time, that disconnect affects morale more than most companies realize.

The workplaces that feel healthiest tend to maintain some relationship to nature, daylight, seasonality, and the surrounding city. Sometimes that happens architecturally through natural materials, dynamic lighting, or spaces that shift throughout the day alongside changing light conditions. Sometimes it happens behaviorally through programming and rituals like taking meetings outside, and using the rooftop patio that sits empty most of the year. Let your teams work outdoors on the warm days of the season instead of pretending everyone should sit inside under fluorescent lights! These things sound small, but they have an enormous cumulative effect on how people feel.

Lighting, especially, plays a major role. One of the things we think about often in workplace design is how to create multiple lighting conditions that support different moods, seasons, and times of day. Winter afternoons in New York require a very different atmosphere than bright summer mornings. Layered lighting, softer ambient sources, and warmer tones can help offices feel more connected to natural rhythms instead of visually fighting against them.

Materiality matters too. We like to incorporate natural woods, textured fabrics, stone, and materials that visibly age over time tend to ground people psychologically in ways synthetic environments often do not. There is comfort in spaces that acknowledge the passage of time rather than resisting it completely.

I think people are craving that connection and orientation more than ever right now. As workplaces continue evolving, there is understandably so much focus on efficiency, flexibility, and performance metrics. But there is also another layer that deserves equal attention, which is the emotional ecosystem of a team. The energy inside a workplace is not static. It changes throughout the year. And the best workplaces that we have designed, recognize that and make room for it.

This time of year simply happens to be a very good reminder.

Not because every office needs a dramatic redesign every season, but because organizations, like homes, benefit from moments of pause where people step back, reassess how things are functioning, reconnect to one another, and ask whether the environment still reflects who they are becoming.

In many ways, that is the real work of workplace design. Not creating static spaces that look good on opening day, but creating environments capable of evolving alongside the people inside them.

—Nina, Co-founder of Float Studio

These iconic pair of conical planters on stands from the 1960’s by Willy Guhl.

And another Willy Guhl piece , this beautiful and rare molar planter crafted in fiber cement for Eternit, Switzerland.

A modernist pair of green metal chairs attributed to Jean Royere, 1960s.

A pair of Oliver Mourgue Boaloum outdoor chaise lounges made of gel-coated fiberglass. Manufactured by Airborne International, France.

—Brad

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At Float Studio, we spend a lot of time thinking about workspaces, whether we’re designing headquarters for growing companies, creating hospitality-inspired offices, or helping clients carve out a dedicated place to focus within their homes. What we’ve learned is that the desk itself is only one piece of the equation. The best workspace solutions balance comfort, storage, flexibility, and aesthetics in a way that feels effortless.

Below are a handful of desks I regularly recommend, source, or return to for inspiration. Some are contemporary, some are vintage, some prioritize flexibility, and others excel at solving small-space challenges. Together they represent the kinds of pieces that make working from home feel less like an obligation and more like an intentional part of daily life.

Before getting into specific recommendations, there are a few things I always encourage people to think about first.

The first is function. Most people begin their search by looking at aesthetics, but the better question is how you actually work. Do you need storage? Do you spread out materials? Are you primarily working on a laptop or do you have multiple monitors? Do you want your desk to disappear into your home or become a focal point within the room?

The second is ergonomics. One of the biggest misconceptions I see is around sit-stand desks. People often assume the purpose is to stand all day, when in reality the greatest benefit is adjustability. The standard desk height of roughly 29.5 inches is intended to accommodate a wide range of users, but that means it is rarely perfect for anyone. Height-adjustable desks allow the surface to fit you rather than forcing you to fit the desk, which is why we often recommend them in both commercial and residential settings.

The third consideration is placement. The instinct is usually to push a desk against a wall because it feels practical. It simplifies cable management and can make a room feel larger. But some of the most successful home workspaces we’ve designed position the desk differently, taking advantage of natural light, views, circulation, or sightlines (cheeky) through the room. I say it’s worth experimenting before committing!

With that in mind, here are the desks I find myself returning to again and again. If you want to skip the details and go right into the links, you can view The Desk Edit here.

For the Person Who Wants the Best Sit-Stand Desk

MillerKnoll Spout Sit-to-Stand Table

For years, sit-stand desks felt like a compromise. You gained functionality but sacrificed aesthetics. The Spout is one of the first systems that feels equally comfortable in a home or office environment.

The proportions are lighter than traditional commercial desks, the detailing feels thoughtful, and the mechanism disappears into the design rather than defining it. If ergonomics are a priority but you don’t want your home office to feel corporate, this is one of the strongest options currently available.

For the Design-Lover

HAY Passerelle Desk

The Passerelle represents what I think residential work furniture should aspire to be. It functions beautifully as a workspace while still reading as furniture first.

The solid wood detailing, architectural lines, and understated presence allow it to integrate seamlessly into living spaces without feeling like office equipment. This is often my recommendation for people who don’t have a dedicated office and need a desk that can coexist with the rest of their home.

For Small Spaces

Vitsoe 606 Universal Shelving System

What makes the system so compelling isn’t simply the desk component itself, but the way it integrates storage, display, and workspace into a single solution. Particularly in cities like New York where square footage is limited, combining these functions often results in a much more successful room.

A well-planned Vitsoe system can solve for an entire wall while maintaining a remarkably light visual footprint.

For the Technology-Focused User

Uhuru Minim Rise Desk

One of the challenges of modern workspaces is managing technology without letting it dominate the room. The Minim Rise Desk addresses this thoughtfully through integrated power solutions and a refined sit-stand system that feels considerably more residential than many of its competitors. The result is a workspace that accommodates contemporary technology while maintaining a sense of calm.

For the Vintage Collector

Alvar Aalto for Artek

Some of my favorite desks aren’t technically desks at all.

During a trip to Switzerland last year, I found myself continually drawn to Artek pieces because of their versatility. The proportions are timeless, the materials age beautifully, and they integrate effortlessly into almost any interior.

Vintage Aalto tables can make exceptional desks because they bring something many contemporary workstations lack: character. The patina, wear, and subtle imperfections tell a story that develops over decades rather than years.

For the Minimalist

Stillfried Design Eiermann Table

The Eiermann feels almost impossibly simple, which is precisely why I like it.

The exposed frame creates a lightness that allows the desk to disappear visually while still providing a generous work surface. For anyone looking to create a quiet workspace without unnecessary visual clutter, it’s a piece that consistently delivers.

For a Softer Residential Feel

AUDO Co Table

Not every workspace needs to look like a workstation.

The Co Table works particularly well for people whose work blends into the rhythms of daily life. It feels approachable, warm, and residential while still providing enough surface area for focused work. For clients who prioritize atmosphere and aesthetics above all else, it’s often a strong fit.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that the best desk is rarely the one with the most features. It’s the one that supports how you work while fitting naturally into the life happening around it, especially when that workspace is within your home. The future of work may be increasingly digital, but the environments we work within remain deeply physical.

If you’re investing in one piece for your workspace this year, I’d start here. And if you’re looking for something a little different, send me a message or leave a comment and I’ll let you know my recommendation.

Ps. All of these desks are available through my ShopMy: The Desk Edit. Thanks for your support!

—Brad

At Float Studio, clients often come to us wanting a workplace that “feels elevated” or “looks beautiful,” but underneath that request is usually something much deeper. What they are often really asking for is a space that helps people feel better inside of it. Which is why we’re always designing for more collaborative, connected, and focused workspaces. The aesthetics matter, of course, but they are never the whole picture.

The workplaces that function best are almost always the ones where leadership is willing to engage thoughtfully with the actual experience of the people using the space every day. That requires listening, curiosity, and a willingness to ask questions that go beyond square footage or headcount projections.

What is energizing your team?
What is quietly draining them?
Does the workplace support the way people actually work, communicate, focus, collaborate, and reset throughout the day?
Has the office simply become a container for productivity without much consideration for the people inside it?

These are the conversations we find ourselves having more and more lately, particularly as companies move faster than ever before. Compressed timelines have become increasingly common, especially within rapidly growing industries where teams scale quickly, leases are signed quickly, and offices are built under immense pressure to open fast. In that kind of momentum, it becomes very easy to prioritize efficiency over reflection. The result is often a workplace that functions operationally, but misses the opportunity to respond meaningfully to the culture, rhythms, and personalities of the team itself.

What gets overlooked in those moments is that every workplace communicates something, whether intentionally or not.

The environment itself becomes a reflection of organizational values. If the office supports people thoughtfully, employees feel it immediately, and if the space ignores acoustics, privacy, comfort, workflow, or emotional wellbeing, they feel that too. The physical environment becomes a daily signal of what matters to the organization and, equally important, what does not.

At Float Studio, Brad and I think about this constantly, both in the spaces we design for clients and within our own studio. The design of a workplace is never isolated from the larger context surrounding it. Leadership styles, communication structures, operational goals, employee wellbeing, growth ambitions, and even the personality of a team all shape the way a space should function.

Workplace design is not simply a visual exercise. It is operational, emotional, and cultural all at once.

One thing we have learned over the years is that the most successful workplace projects rarely begin with furniture or finishes. They begin with dialogue. Some of the most valuable conversations we have with clients involve questions that have very little to do with aesthetics.

What aspects of your culture feel essential to preserve?
Where do you think there is room for improvement?
How does your team collaborate best?
Do employees need quiet focus areas, highly social environments, or a balance of both?
Is hierarchy important to the structure of the organization, or does the company operate more fluidly?
What kind of atmosphere helps people feel motivated, safe, and supported?

There is often pressure for organizations to emulate what they think a successful workplace should look like, particularly now when so many offices are shaped by the same visual references and trends. Companies absorb the aesthetics of the “modern office” without necessarily questioning whether those ideas genuinely support the people working there. But the workplaces that resonate most deeply are rarely the ones trying to imitate everyone else. They are the ones that respond honestly to the people already inside them.

One of the clearest examples of this for us was in designing a space for Understood, a non-profit organization focused on supporting neurodiverse individuals and people with learning differences across the United States. From the beginning, the conversation was never simply about creating a visually compelling office. The larger focus was what it actually felt like to exist within the space physically and emotionally. ADA accessibility and neurodiverse considerations informed every decision, from acoustics and lighting to heating, materiality, circulation, and the transitions between spaces. The result was an environment that felt calm, intuitive, and supportive, not only for neurodiverse employees but for everyone using the workplace.

That project reinforced something we believe strongly: when you design thoughtfully for a broader range of human needs, the workplace improves universally. Spaces become easier to navigate, more comfortable to work in, less overstimulating, and ultimately more supportive of the people using them every day. That level of care creates a workplace that feels considered rather than merely optimized. And that distinction matters more than ever right now.

Many organizations still approach office design primarily through the lens of appearance or efficiency, but employees are evaluating something much deeper. They are constantly assessing the exchange the workplace offers them in return for their time, energy, creativity, and presence.

Does coming into the office feel meaningful?
Does the environment support connection, focus, collaboration, and wellbeing?
Does it create opportunities for people to do their best work and feel proud of where they spend their day?
Or does it simply ask them to show up?

The offices that resonate most deeply tend to be the ones where people feel genuinely considered. And increasingly, I think employees can feel the difference almost immediately.

—Nina, Co-founder at Float Studio

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Here’s what I’m watching right now:


This Italian 1950’s metal coffee table by Maurizio Tempestini for Salterini.

A pair of Westmoreland art deco milk glass shades.

This set of 5 Italian mid-century bentwood dining chairs from Edoardo Landi for Nikol International. These just sold, but I had to put them in here.

—Brad

This week I have my eye on some art pieces. Here’s what I’m watching right now:

A signed Larry Vox piece titled ‘Boca De La Soledad’ - Acrylic on Canvas.

This shaped-canvas hard edge painting from the early 1970s by under-recognized Pacific Northwest artist Jerry J. Walker

.
The Seated Man by Alain Staehlin 1991, signed.

—Brad

At Float, we are almost always trying to blur the line between commercial and residential environments. We want offices to feel more human. We want people to walk in and feel warmth rather than utility. If we could use residential materials wall-to-wall in commercial spaces, we probably would, but the technical requirements usually make that difficult.

The problem is that commercial carpeting often looks exactly like commercial carpeting. There is a visual language to it that is hard to ignore once you notice it. It’s the quarter-turn installation pattern, and the busyness of the cool greys and blues with striations and pile-height shifts designed to disguise staining. Don’t get me started on the synthetic sheen that catches the light in a way that immediately tells you this was chosen for performance first and aesthetics second. Most of the time commercial carpeting prioritizes practicality over aesthetics and I think it’s high time we change that!

There is, of course, a reason commercial carpeting exists in the first place. In workplace environments it performs in ways that residential carpeting simply cannot. It handles high traffic, wears more evenly, often requires less maintenance, helps absorb sound in large open spaces, and most importantly, meets the fire codes required for covering large surface areas in commercial buildings.

The compromise we find here often comes through area rugs, using broadloom in strategic places, or manipulating commercial materials in a way that feels less “corporate”.

Our project for Kaplan Hecker & Fink is a good example of this. We used a product from Tretford, one of our long-time go-to brands. They make beautiful goat hair carpeting and rugs, along with carpet tile that has far more softness than most products in the commercial market. Their standard tile can be installed in a quarter-turn pattern, which we tend to avoid because it signals “office” almost immediately. We are almost always looking for products that can be laid monolithically, with all tiles running in the same direction so the floor reads as one continuous surface which is what we do with their Interlife Tiles. Tretford also offers broadloom, and for KHF this choice made sense. As a law firm, the heavy traffic is lower and the environment is tidy so we had more freedom to prioritize aesthetics.

We installed the broadloom to read like a large area rug beneath the workstations and shaped it on site to soften the geometry of the room. Under the conference table, we created an oblong pill shape and worked with the installer to ensure it was finished with a nylon surged edge so it felt custom and residential rather than installed. It worked beautifully because the product allowed for that flexibility and the client’s use of the space supported it.

We’re always looking for that balance between beautiful and functional. What I find is that in the commercial carpeting industry, the products that perform well often do not look good. The products that look soft and residential may not meet code, and the products that meet every technical requirement can feel sterile or overtly commercial. I have yet to find a product that truly checks every box, so often we choose to design our own.

What really signals “this is commercial carpeting”?

Aesthetically, there are a few things that really make a carpet read as commercial. Those are install pattern, size, shape, quality and color.

Our goal is almost always continuity. We want the floor to read as monolithic rather than modular and those classic quarter-turn installations just create movement that can feel busy and institutional. The same goes for dramatic pile-height variation or heavy striations that you always see in office carpetings. Those details are often engineered to disguise wear and staining, but visually they create a kind of busyness that does not align with the spaces we are trying to create. The industry often prioritizes performance over appearance, and while we understand why, it can make sourcing frustrating.

Modularity presents its own set of challenges too. Hiding seams is difficult. Some manufacturers are beginning to improve this by cutting tiles with reverse bevels so edges overlap and disappear more naturally. Mohawk is experimenting with this in ways that allow the product to blend better, which is exciting to see.

Synthetic fibers are another giveaway. I can almost always tell when something is polypropylene or a mixed fibre by the way it catches the light. Natural fibres have tonal shifts and subtle variation that feel rich and layered in a way dyed yarns rarely do. Even multi-ply twisted yarns with several shades from the same family often fail to replicate the depth and irregularity of something natural. The truth is that most commercial products are designed to appeal to the broadest market possible, and the mainstream market is not necessarily asking for design-forward flooring.

The biggest issue, though, is color. Every time we receive a carpet sample book, we find the same “safe” colors that disappear into the background and offend no one. There is so much room for expansion here!

For our latest and largest workplace project, a major financial services company in Boston, we approached carpet sourcing with a very specific list of criteria. We wanted something monolithic and continuous in multiple color families that could subtly signal wayfinding throughout the office. And we wanted those colors to feel muted, interesting, and slightly unexpected like a soft green, a terracotta and an icy blue with yellow loops. We simply could not find it. So again, we worked with Mohawk to design our own. We ended up custom designing and ordering hundreds of thousands of square feet of carpet tile for the project, creating something that felt softer and more layered than anything readily available. On a large scale, it reads more residential than corporate, which is exactly what we were after. Increasingly, this is where we find ourselves landing.

If the market does not offer what we need, we design it.

This all connects back to an article I wrote a little while back about how people are craving craft and color! People are also craving natural materials right now like sisal and jute, fibres with texture and tonal irregularity. A true commercial-grade alternative simply does not exist in a way that satisfies us. At Food52, we actually had massive custom sisal rugs made for under the workstations because we could not find anything at scale that delivered the right look, and we knew the client would take care of them.

Is there a sustainable option?

Sustainability also factors into these decisions more and more. Something that surprises people is that nylon is often the best-case scenario. Polypropylene and mixed fibres can be difficult to recycle and often perform poorly aesthetically. Nylon, on the other hand, is highly recyclable, and many manufacturers now have cradle-to-cradle programs where old carpet is taken back and repurposed into new product. In an industry where office turnover is constant and waste is immense, this matters, especially to our studio. We are always asking what the story is behind the product. How recyclable is it? How responsible is the manufacturer? How much waste are we creating?

Where to make your investments?

Then there is cost, which is always a big part of the conversation. Standard commercial carpeting in high quantities typically ranges from $4-$8 dollars per square foot. The softer, more natural-looking options that hit our aesthetic goals can easily land closer to $20 per square foot. Clients are often hesitant to spend there, but we think it is worth it. Flooring covers enormous square footage and influences every visual and sensory experience in the space. If you’re going to spend your money, spend it at the right places. Our go-to brands at Float Studio tend to be Mohawk, Bentley, Tarkett, and Tretford.

And still, even with all of those resources, we are currently working on a tech office with an extremely compressed construction timeline, just under a month, and we found exactly ONE sample we liked.

So if anyone out there wants to make our dream of a better commercial carpeting line happen with us, we would love to talk!

—Brad

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This week I am sourcing daybeds. Here’s what I’m watching right now:

This Jean Pouvré piece designed by Charlotte Perriand circa 1953.

A Jorge Zalszupin daybed from1959 that I want so badly.

A Midcentury Barcelona daybed from Ludwig Mies Van Der Rohe.

“Float Studio has completed the interior design of a 1,225 square foot office in an industrial building dating to 1911 in Dumbo, a Brooklyn waterfront neighbourhood known for its cobblestone streets and converted warehouses

Originally constructed as a warehouse for the Arbuckle Brothers coffee and sugar company, the building has retained many of its industrial qualities – generous proportions, large windows and sweeping views of Manhattan. “That context, both the history and the immediate connection to the city, became an important backdrop for the project,” says Float’s co-founder, Brad Sherman.”

Read the full feature online at OnOffice Magazine: Float Studio explores retrofuturism in a bijou New York office for tech start-up Antiwork

To learn more about Float Studio visit us at float.studio.

I tend to think about reception spaces less as waiting areas and more as introductions. The moment someone enters the space they should immediately feel a sense of the company’s identity, whether that comes through the material choices, the scale of the room, the lighting, or the way people move through the environment. A well designed reception area has the ability to shape an interaction before a single conversation takes place. The time someone spends waiting before a meeting can quietly introduce the values, personality, and culture of a brand, if you seize the opportunity.

As a designer, the language I speak is visual. I read the story of a company through material, lighting, furniture, and atmosphere almost immediately. It’s like a litmus test for how I’m going to feel about the conversation I’m about to have or service I’m about to receive. When a reception area is reduced to a desk and a stack of pamphlets, the space does not tell me anything important. Instead it creates a kind of nervous neutrality that makes me instinctively reach for my phone and pretend to be busy. When the lighting is soft, the materials are thoughtful, and the space offers vignettes that make me curious, something shifts about the entire experience. I begin to relax and look around.

That small shift in comfort and curiosity creates a stronger connection between visitor and brand.

In New York especially, there is a strong understanding of the value of placemaking (and I love this city for it!). While offices are often compact and buildings are historic by nature, the competition for talent and clients is intense so creating a standout experience becomes critical. The spaces that do this understand that the reception area is not just a checkpoint.

At Float Studio, most of our reception projects have been within workplace environments, though each one begins with a different question. For a period of time many offices experimented with fully digital check-in systems, where visitors arrived and interacted only with an iPad. Lately we have seen a return to human interaction. The reception desk is once again becoming a place where someone welcomes you, guides you, and sets the tone.

We are currently designing a law firm in Los Angeles where the reception area is intentionally more residential than corporate. Panelled walls and warm materials such as cork, mahogany, and cherry create a sense of familiarity, while the branding is integrated subtly into the architecture rather than displayed as a bold graphic. Cherry wood carries a long association with professional environments, but we are interpreting it in a more contemporary way that reflects the firm’s identity as progressive and design forward. The space quietly signals seriousness while still feeling human.

Looking back across several Float Studio projects, the reception area always becomes a reflection of the brand’s priorities.

In the reception space for a financial firm in NoMad, the office itself had incredible views but very limited square footage. The partners were deeply interested in vintage furniture, so the reception desk became a sculptural lacquer piece that feels almost like a collectible object. The custom design was inspired by Vittorio Introini, finished in deep Lyon’s blue to fit the brand colours, and perfectly scaled for the compact New York footprint is the anchor of the space. We even worked an interaction into the design, adding a built-in vessel for candy at one end. The walls are painted a warm butter tone, and a striped sofa introduces pattern and energy in an editorial moment. A small circular porthole in the wall allows the reception area to visually connect with the conference room beyond, reinforcing that the office is an active environment rather than a closed front desk. It’s super important to feel a sense of life in a reception area, and not feel closed off from what’s going on in the rest of the office. Ultimately, the goal here was a sense of discovery, inviting curiosity and establishing the office as a place that feels both professional and comfortable.

At Food52’s headquarters the design conversation began with architecture rather than furniture. The space itself was massive, with long sightlines that could easily have felt overwhelming and intimidating to visitors. Instead of amplifying that scale, we brought the space inward. Plaster walls and soft cove lighting created intimacy, and making the reception desk felt almost as if it were discovered rather than designed. Immediately behind the desk, through a doorway is a small sitting area where the brand’s products are displayed, turning the waiting moment into an introduction to what the company actually does showcasing DANSK, Schoolhouse and more. By the time someone is called into their meeting, they already understand the brand through this physical and visual experience. Imagine if we just stuck a desk with an iPad in front of this giant space and stuck a “please be seated” sign on the wall…

Okay, Schumacher offered a completely different scenario. The architecture itself was dramatic, with a sweeping staircase and large windows framing the space. In this case the most powerful design move was restraint. Instead of adding layers of furniture or screens, we kept the reception area minimal so the architecture could remain the focus. The result is a calm and almost gallery-like entry where the building itself becomes the brand statement. This space was also designed using layers of products from Schumacher and FS&CO’s lines of wallpaper and textiles, which helped tell the story as you moved through the space to your meeting.

In another law office, KHF, a structural constraint became a design opportunity. The HVAC conditions required a lower ceiling than we would typically prefer, so we curved the wall surfaces to soften the compression of the space for both employees and visitors. Programming also played an important role. Rather than installing a large permanent screen for presentations, we designed the space around a projector system, which allows the room to remain visually calm while still functioning for meetings when needed.

For Glowbar, the reception desk needed to function across dozens of small locations while maintaining a strong brand presence. Instead of designing a low desk where people might linger, we created a standing-height counter that encourages quick check-ins before clients move directly into their treatment. The environment is intentionally bright and minimal, with a signature orange column that signals the brand immediately even within a compact footprint, and shelving allows for ready to purchase products to be made available post treatment.

Some reception areas become iconic almost unintentionally. The original Casper office, completed more than a decade ago, used the brand’s signature blue throughout the reception zone so visitors immediately understood where they were. The color carried through the entire office, turning the brand identity into a spatial experience rather than a logo on the wall.

In hospitality-oriented environments, the priorities shift again. The reception area for Royal Orthodontics, a dental practice, was designed around the emotional reality of the visit. If someone is about to spend two hours in a chair, the experience leading up to that moment should feel bright, welcoming, and reassuring. The footprint was extremely tight, so we focused on hospitality elements like accessible seating, coffee, and water, along with bench seating that maximizes the number of guests without making the room feel crowded. We also made it so that the facade of the building felt just as good as the reception area, really maximizing the experience from the moment you arrive at the address.

The reception area for Understood presented a particularly meaningful challenge. As a nonprofit focused on supporting neurodiverse individuals, the space needed to feel calm, legible, and unintimidating. We worked closely with the organization to ensure that circulation paths were clear and intuitive. The reception desk was lowered to be more approachable and wheelchair accessible, with a small glass shield that preserves visibility while maintaining comfort. Curved walls soften the geometry of the room, and the brand’s blue color provides orientation without overwhelming the senses.

At Sakara Life, the reception area operates more like a portal into the office than a traditional waiting space. Because most visitors are expected and pre-arranged, there is little need for seating. The design instead focuses on framing a view into the workspace while displaying elements of the brand.

Across all of these projects, three questions guide how we approach the reception experience.

1. What story is the brand trying to tell through the space?

2. What first impression should a guest walk away with?

3. How long will someone realistically spend waiting here?

The answers to those questions influence everything from the type of seating to the posture of the reception desk and the overall functionality of the room. Ultimately, reception areas succeed when they stop trying to look like reception areas and start behaving like an extension of the brand itself.

—Brad

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This week I am sourcing a fruit bowl for a client. Here’s what I picked for them, and what I’m watching right now:


This Ben Owen III, Chinese Red Glaze Bowl signed and dated 2001. Titled "Dine Around".

An incredible Chinese Tang Dynasty Yellow Glazed Marbled Bowl.

Another Ben Owen III piece circa 2004.

An art deco Carl Sorensen Verdigris Bronze footed bowl.

Let me help you how to figure out exactly what you’re going, even if you don’t know what that is yet.

Before we even get to color, the first element I always take into consideration is not tone but size, AKA the width of the grout joint. Whether a tight one-sixteenth or one-eighth of an inch, or something more pronounced like a quarter or even half inch, grout width fundamentally changes how the tile reads.

Smaller joints, often paired with unsanded grout, create a quieter and more refined surface where the tile feels continuous and the material itself takes precedence. Larger joints, typically filled with sanded grout for durability, emphasize the spacing and make the grid more visible. When I specify a tight grout line, it is usually because I want the grout to recede so that the stone becomes the focal point and the installation reads as expansive rather than segmented.

Now, color builds on that foundation. My personal instinct is to select the lighter variation found within the stone or tile itself, which tends to produce a cohesive and harmonious result. In natural materials such as marble, where veining and tonal variation already create movement, introducing a dark or highly contrasting grout can compete visually and disrupt the surface. Instead of appreciating the depth of the stone, the eye is drawn to a checkerboard effect. By pulling from the lighter tones within the material, the grout supports rather than interrupts the composition.

That said, contrast can be powerful when it is deliberate. In spaces where the tile is clean, modern, and uniform, emphasizing the grid can be part of the design language. I recently specified black tile in a kitchen and chose a bright white grout, fully aware that the contrast would be graphic and assertive. The intention was to highlight geometry and create a bold, almost retro effect that aligned with the broader vision for my space.

In another project featuring large-format marble in an office, we matched the grout closely to the stone so the surface would feel continuous and monolithic. Both approaches were successful because the desired outcome was clear from the beginning. Understanding the rules allows you to bend them with confidence rather than by accident.

The location of the tile also plays a critical role in the decision, as performance and maintenance are inseparable from aesthetics. Floors in particular demand a more pragmatic approach, since they are subject to daily traffic, spills, and long-term wear. While a pale grout line can look crisp at installation, it will inevitably show signs of use more quickly than a mid-tone alternative (I took this into consideration for my small kitchen project knowing that I hardly cook or make a mess in there anyways, ha!). Walls, by contrast, offer more flexibility because they are not exposed to the same level of abrasion or staining, which allows for lighter and more expressive choices without the same maintenance burden.

Equally important is where and how and where you make your design choices! Grout colors, especially whites and light neutrals, are highly sensitive to context and can read yellow, pink, or gray depending on surrounding materials and lighting conditions. A sample that appears perfectly balanced in a showroom can shift dramatically once installed on site. Grout should always be reviewed in person, placed directly against the actual tile or stone, and evaluated in the space where it will live. If the project timeline and budget allow, a small mock-up can eliminate uncertainty and reveal how the joint size and color truly interact with the material.

Over time, a few practical principles have become consistent go-tos in my own work:

Floors

• Consider traffic patterns and long-term wear before committing to very light grout.

• Opt for sanded grout with wider joints when durability is a priority.

• Avoid bright white grout in high-traffic kitchens and baths unless you are prepared for upkeep.

• When in doubt, choose a tone that blends with the tile to soften visual wear over time.

Walls

• Lighter grout is more forgiving vertically and can maintain its appearance longer.

• Tighter joints create a refined, continuous look, especially with natural stone.

• Contrast can be used intentionally to emphasize geometry in showers, backsplashes, or feature walls.

• Because walls are more visible at eye level, subtle tonal shifts matter more and should be reviewed carefully.

Go-To Guidelines

• Pull the grout color from the lighter variation within the tile or stone for a cohesive result.

• Evaluate samples on site and under real lighting conditions, never in isolation.

• Mock up a small section whenever possible to understand scale and contrast.

• Use contrast deliberately and only when it supports the broader vision of the space.

• Remember that grout is a framing device, and decide whether you want the frame to disappear or to define the composition.

Ultimately, grout is less about adhering to a universal rule and more about articulating a clear intention for the surface. Whether you want the tile to read as seamless texture or as a defined geometric pattern will guide your decision making. Though it may seem like a secondary detail, grout has an outsized influence on how finished and considered a space feels, and when approached thoughtfully and evaluated in context, it becomes a subtle but powerful tool in shaping the overall experience of a room.

If you have any questions drop me a comment or reach out to my studio, Float Studio.

—Brad

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This week I have a bit of a vintage Alvar Aalto edit for you. Here’s what I’m watching right now:

This Armchair 400 aka Tank Chair from the 1930s.

This Mid-century Modern Alvar Aalto for Artek Coffee Table.

A 5pc set of Alvar Aalto Artek Stacking Stools - these just sold as I’m writing this!

And this Alvar Aalto Cantilevered armchair, model no. 42, circa 1930s.

Lately, I’ve been speaking with more founders who are scaling far faster than anticipated, particularly in the AI sector. A funding round closes, the team doubles, and within weeks there is pressure to secure office space, sometimes in as little as 30 days. In New York, that urgency often leads companies toward pre-built office spaces. They exist to serve a purpose: they are readily available, professionally finished, and can be occupied almost immediately. But what does this mean for the people who work inside of them?

The office you choose is not just a logistical decision. It is a cultural one.

Over the last year, the rise of AI companies has accelerated timelines to a degree we at Float Studio, have never seen. That kind of urgency and pace pushes founders toward turnkey solutions because they feel fast, low-risk, and are immediately available. The challenge is that most pre-built spaces are designed to be neutral enough for anyone, which means they are rarely right for someone specific. They meet the deadline, but they do not meet the people.

After the pandemic, offices became optional for many employees. Hybrid models are now standard. If someone is going to commute, especially in a city like New York where apartments are small and life is dense, the office has to offer something better than working from a kitchen table. It has to feel supportive, energizing, and aligned with why the company exists in the first place. People are here for the dynamism of the city, for community, for momentum. Work should reflect that.

At Float Studio, we think about offices as second homes. You spend almost half your waking hours there. It has to function, but it also has to feel good. Community retains talent. That is not a design trend. It is a business strategy. When employees describe their workplace as familial or supportive, that is not an accident. It is the result of intentional planning around how people gather, collaborate, eat, focus, and decompress. Dense rows of desks packed tightly together are a relic of a different era.

Designing for the future means designing for flow, personal space, and a sense of psychological safety. Desk orientation matters more than most people realize. When someone is seated with constant circulation behind them or screens fully exposed to passersby, it creates low-grade stress that adds up over time. This is something that the pre-built office doesn’t often address. A well-planned layout considers sightlines, movement paths, and how technology integrates into daily work. Multiple screens, video calls, and hybrid meetings require thoughtful positioning and infrastructure, not just more square footage.

Acoustics are another foundational issue that pre-built offices rarely solve well because they are expensive and invisible, yet they are essential to productivity and privacy. Designing for the future means thinking about sound from the beginning of construction, not after complaints start rolling in from employees trying to take calls simultaneously. Proper wall assemblies with thicker drywall/insulation and full-height partitions, not walls that stop short of the ceiling, dramatically improve speech privacy.

HVAC routing should be coordinated with mechanical engineers so ductwork runs outside of rooms where possible rather than directly through them, since metal carries sound. Soft surfaces, acoustic ceilings, and strategic material choices help absorb rather than bounce noise. Glass, while visually appealing, leaks sound and needs careful detailing and higher performance specifications when confidentiality matters. These decisions cannot be layered in casually after the fact, and are all a part of the design systems we work to build in our custom office spaces.

We recently walked through a pre-built office that a company had moved into quickly. Within months, they realized it was not working. The desk orientation was chaotic. Circulation paths cut directly through workstations. Secondary spaces were poorly placed and disconnected from the teams that needed them most. They are now spending additional capital to undo and redo much of what could have been resolved at the outset. Replacing furniture, adjusting layouts, and retrofitting acoustics is always more expensive than planning correctly from day one.

The future office is not just about individual desks. Secondary spaces carry enormous weight. Breakout rooms, meeting rooms, boardrooms, and informal gathering areas need to sit adjacent to the teams that rely on them. Common spaces are where culture becomes visible. When designed intentionally, they support bonding, mutual respect, and shared purpose. When treated as leftover square footage with a couch, they become empty gestures.

There is a misconception right now that hyper-custom offices are fading because of compressed timelines and cost sensitivity, especially in the tech and AI world. Ironically, this is the moment when human-centered environments matter most. As technology accelerates, the physical space becomes the counterbalance. It is where values are made tangible.

Our recent project with Antiwork, creators of Gumroad is a good example. As an AI-driven company, they could have chosen a slick, anonymous pre-built office and called it a day. Instead, we collaborated closely with the founder to translate his vision into space. He gravitated toward a retro-future sensibility with deep, grounding colors and a perspective that felt both nostalgic and forward-thinking. The result is an environment that reflects his convictions and leadership style. It feels distinct, and intentional, and tells you something about why you would want to work there.

Designing offices for the future is not about chasing trends or finishing fastest. It is about understanding that environment shapes behaviour and motivation. When founders invest in spaces that reflect who they are and how they want their teams to feel, they are not indulging in aesthetics. They are building infrastructure for workplace culture at a time when we need it most.

The companies that thrive in the next decade will not be the ones with the most generic offices delivered the quickest. They will be the ones that recognize that even in an AI-driven world, people still do their best work in spaces designed by humans, for humans.

—Brad

Here’s what I’m watching right now:

This one of a kind steel, aluminum and oak coffee table circa 1970.

A pair of Daphine Cloe Table Lamps Lumina design by Tommaso Cimini (Italian, b. 1947).

This incredible 1940s Italian Console attributed to Osvaldo Borsani.

This week I’m specifically on the look out for bedside tables for my apartment, here’s what I’m watching right now:

This pair of art deco side tables by Alfons Bach for Lloyd Loom.

These wooden bedside storage cabinets circa 1930s.

Two Paul McCobb, Planner Group model 1572 maple nightstands, made in the USA circa 1950s

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how luxury at home doesn’t have much to do with price. It’s more about intention and the small personal touches that quietly elevate the everyday. In my opinion, the most compelling interiors aren’t built from a matching set. They’re assembled over time to create a curated collection of what you love. That’s where personality lives. Affordable luxury, to me, starts with trusting your eye instead of chasing a look.

An eclectic mix of objects helps a space tell your story. When I come across something I love but can’t immediately place, I ask myself one question: would I still want it sitting alone on a shelf? If the answer is yes, it belongs. Pieces chosen with that kind of intention always find their place.

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One of my favorite examples is how I store my jewelry. It all lives in a silver ashtray I picked up at a flea market for a few dollars. The mix of metals catches the light throughout the day and feels quietly indulgent like a still life that changes as I move through it. Another easily thrifted item is unique china or pottery. At this point, I only ask for unique china as gifts. Using beautiful plates and cups daily feels far more luxurious than saving them for a special occasion. Affordable luxury shows up when the “good stuff” becomes part of your routine.

There are a few places where a small detail makes an outsized difference. Doorknobs, for example, where adding tassels in a dramatic deep burgundy instantly makes the space feel more layered and intentional. It’s the kind of detail you notice subconsciously, but it changes how the room feels. I really love the color and texture of the ones above! The same goes for cabinet hardware. It’s so easy to swap out those builder-grade cabinet pulls for something more unique and considered. As long as the screw holes line up, it’s one of the easiest ways to make a space feel upgraded.

The small details don’t end there, a vintage tablecloth thrown over an awkward surface can make it feel cared for and add warmth without a big investment, and adding a pop of color to your bathroom with a colourful or pattered towel is a kind of luxury too. A little more on the involved side could be installing wallpaper (which isn’t for the faint of heart) but there’s something undeniably luxurious about waking up in a room wrapped in pattern. It shifts the mood of the entire space and suddenly mornings feel slower, softer, more intentional. I’ve been loving the cozy cottage vibe.

None of this is about spending more or following trends. It’s about paying attention. Choosing pieces that elevate your daily rituals and letting your home feel quietly, comfortably indulgent without trying too hard.

—Emily Siegel, Designer at Float Studio.

Here’s what I’m watching right now:

This French Modernist bistro table crafted in the 1950s by the legendary Mathieu Mategot (this one just sold but I had to share it).

This birch daybed designed by Alvar Aalto for Artek circa 1970s Finland.

A 1980s Mid Century Modern Cherry Wood Armoire Dresser, made in USA.