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Nifemi Marcus-Bello is a designer based in Lagos, Nigeria, working across commercial and artistic practice through his studio, nmbello. He works from a position of curiosity and humility, letting the process lead rather than imposing an idea on it.

His approach is shaped by the continent itself. African design, like African culture, is rooted in respect for people and place, and asks you to learn before you dictate. Nifemi treats each project as a chance to be reintroduced to the familiar with fresh eyes, allowing what’s available to shape what’s made.

Instagram: @nmbello1
Website: www.nmbello.com

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
The most impressive space I have experienced from afar is the home of Mexican Artist, Pedro Reyes. The interwoven space of work, living, and making seems to balance really well, with the feeling that it enhances his thinking and way of life.

I also like the interior space of renowned Nigerian Architect Demas Nwoko, the use of light, sculpture, and the way materials have aged within the space.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
If I can be selfish, I will pick two products: the LM Stool and the TM Bench with Bowl. These objects resonate with me because of their uniqueness in form and user interpretation.

[003] What has piqued your interest lately?
It's the summer, so I tend to do a lot of reading. I am currently reading the “Unimportance of Form,” which is an accumulation of essays by Jasper Morrison put together by a friend, Sina Sohrab.

Once I am done, I will be rereading ‘Things Fall Apart’ by Chinua Achebe; it's one of those books that I want to explore as an adult with all that I have experienced.

[004] Describe your dream home if you had no budget restraints.
My dream home is one with natural materials that age gracefully, with natural warm tones, with an accent element of surprise via a pop of colour.

[005] Can you share images of your interior and tell us a bit about it?
My interior space is important as it has always been my sanctuary; it's the place I retreat to and also my safe space. I am not as intentional as I want to be just yet but there are certain corners of my space that keep me inspired and let me know that building up the right space is a journey.

I. ‘African Furniture and Household Objects’ by Roy Sieber

A 1980s study that looks into the forms, materiality, and functionality of region-specific furniture across the African continent.

II. ‘Afro-Atlantic Histories’ by Adriano Pedrosa

A great reference for great African and diasporic art, showing the vast array of artistic disciplines that can act as a reference for great art for the home.

III. ‘Jasper Morrison: The Unimportance of Form and Other Arguments…” edited by Sina Sohrab

Incredible read that challenges the design industry's obsession with superficial novelty by advocating for practicality, ethical responsibility, and the quiet authority of everyday, useful objects.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @alice.rawsthorn
– @apartamentomagazine
– @seedarchives
– @blackfolksindesign
– @marta.losangeles

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Lillian Goodman is a California-based interior designer whose multidisciplinary background spans industrial design, fashion, interior design, and construction. Her work is defined by a thoughtful balance of historical references, carefully collected pieces, and a deep understanding of each client's unique needs.

Instagram: @lilliangoodmaninteriors
Website: lilliangoodman.com
E-Mail: info@lilliangoodman.com

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
The Salk Institute in La Jolla, CA. Built by Louis Kahn between 1959-1965. While this isn’t an interior design reference in a traditional sense, it’s a beautiful example of how exterior architecture can shape the dialogue between our external experiences and our internal lives. This monolithic concrete structure overlooking the Pacific Ocean was designed entirely around the idea that creative collaboration between scientists of varying disciplines could lead to radical scientific breakthroughs.

The long hallways surrounding the central courtyard were inspired by monastic cloisters- places where people from different disciplines could encounter one another, exchange ideas, and engage in conversation before retreating to the solitude of their laboratories or studies to reflect, experiment, and create. In my dream world, I would have an office here.

The concept behind this structure really resonates with me because I’m fascinated by people’s stories and lived experiences. Every person carries a unique history, shaped by culture, relationships, and the ideas of their time. As an interior designer, my role is to understand those layers, adding historical context, collaborating with contemporary gallerists and designers that I admire, and finally translating them into spaces that feel deeply personal while supporting the way my clients want to live.

[002] Describe your dream interior if you had no budget restraints.
The undeveloped Southern California coast: sandstone cliffs, Torrey pines and endless ocean. An adobe home built in the brutalist style but with soft, earthen walls and lots of wood. A large room for big gatherings and smaller rooms for various purposes- a library, a spa, an art studio. A path goes down to the beach with an open, shaded dwelling built into the cliffs.

[003] What has piqued your interest lately?
Growing up in North County, San Diego in the 80’s, there was a costal/post modern/bauhaus inspired architectural trend that felt uniquely local. The houses of the Del Mar-based architectural firm Batter Kay are prime examples; I feel that there is a resurgence of interest in this style that is exciting to me.

[004] Who other than yourself would you trust to decorate your home?
Georgia O’Keeffe

[005] Can you share images of your interior and tell us a bit about it?
My current office is pretty utilitarian - it's very important to me to be able to physically handle the materials that I am proposing to clients, so I have an extensive library of samples on hand. I usually have a small vignette of fabrics, tiles, wood, etc set up that aren’t for any project in particular- sometimes it's just nice to take a break and create a palette without any specifics or guardrails attached. I also keep a bronze sculpture in my office that my late father made while in college that is special to me.

I. ‘Swedish Grace’, by Ivanov, 2017

This book is an amazing reference for architectural details, furniture, and decorative objects created during the brief Swedish Grace period between 1910-1930. The era held what for me is the perfect mix of classical detailing with the modern lines that would become de regur in Nordic design in the years to follow.

II. ‘Japanese Detail Architecture’ by Sadao Hibi, 1989

My favorite museum here in San Diego is the Mingei Museum in Balboa Park. They have an incredible reference library, and once a year they have a book sale. I picked this up at the last sale and have been looking at it for inspiration on repetitive geometric forms in woodwork and landscapes.

III. ‘La Maison de Verre: Le Chef-d’Oeuvre de Pierre Chareau’ by Dominique Vellay & photos by Francois Hallard, 2007

An iconic house designed by Pierre Chareau, tapestries and upholstery by Jean Lurçat, photographed by Hallard- basically just my dream scenario all the way around.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @theworldofinteriors
– @ejrbarnes
– @magenhgallery
– @grace___prince
– @marta.losangeles

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Josh Itiola is a designer and writer working at the intersection of spatial design, material culture, and architectural storytelling. With a background in design consultation, interiors, and cultural programming, his work explores how space can shape experience, identity, and public life.

Instagram: @joshitiola
Website: joshitiola.com | Josh’s Substack

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
Favourite, as in favourite of all time? I don’t think I have a “favourite of all time” space, but a favourite interior I have come across recently and find myself revisiting is House in Barcelona by architects Enric Miralles + Benedetta Tagliabue. I am increasingly interested in seeing how different designers and architects live.

The images I have seen of this house grab me in a way that really pulls me in. A wanders’ dream house. It is a chaos that still feels inviting. In some views, it’s hard to tell where some rooms begin and end, and in other cases, there is a feeling of “am I allowed in this room?” I love the way the furniture inhabits the rooms. Like these pieces were just found and placed in the rooms, and probably repositioned around the house over time. Then, when you look at the house in plan, it becomes even more confusing, and then you look longer, and you begin to understand what’s happening and why.

There is a wonderful poem that Enric Miralles wrote to accompany the presentation of the project.
One line that I saw describing the feel of the house was:

“This house works like a chessboard.

The pieces move according to the rules of each object… They must

always return to the starting point to

restart the game…”

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
Unfortunately, I love collecting things, so I think this idea of favourites changes over time. There are things I’m interested in, and things I learn about and become interested in. At the moment, my favourite object is a clock I found designed by Comme Des Garçons. I came across an image a few years ago of this clock while researching Takada Kawasaki, Comme des Garçons’ architect.

Suddenly, the clock came up for sale recently, and I had to jump on it. He was responsible for many of the shop interiors we all have grown to love. I haven’t found much about this clock, but that is part of my learning process and practice. It came about while trying to find as much as I could about Kawasaki-san's architectural practice, and added to the story. I also want to try to get the clock working again.

[003] Describe your dream interior if you had no budget restraints.
A dream apartment would still be a sort of classic Manhattan loft. Sounds cliché, but it's still a real dream. As I get older, I realize how impractical they are, but being from New York, I still think they are the coolest. I would need it to be a corner unit so I get light on at least two sides of the apartment. It is really about well-proportioned rooms, large windows with lots of natural light.

[004] What has piqued your interest lately?
I have been doing a bit of research surrounding the influence of architecture and spatial design practice in adjacent production spheres like theatre, film, and fashion.

I have been quite interested in the recent formation of practices around these forms of work. Studios like SUB, OMA/AMO, Charlap Hyman & Herrero, 2x4, Prodject and Bureau Betak that have incorporated an architectural element into their practice are super interesting to me.

[005] What’s one thing you own that you won’t ever sell?
I have quite a few things that I love in my collection that I’ll probably never sell. I own two pieces by Italian designer Gaetano Pesce.

I have one of his famous Broadway Chairs and also a clock in the shape of Brazil, which he designed while working there. I had the pleasure of working with him briefly and got both signed by him.

I. Alternative Advertising For Shiseido

A collection of Shiseido advertising work by Kazuhiko Ota, documenting a period when beauty, fashion, photography, typography, and art direction were pushed into more experimental territory.

The book shows advertising as a cultural and visual language, not just a tool for selling cosmetics. Probably one of my favourite finds in a while.

II. OMA/AMO. Rem Koolhaas. Projects for Prada (Part 1)

A dense visual and conceptual document of OMA/AMO’s research for Prada, exploring how architecture, retail, branding, technology, and cultural strategy could merge into a new kind of commercial space.

This is less a traditional architecture monograph than a working archive of ideas; the book captures Prada as a testing ground for spatial experimentation and brand-world building.

III. ‘AB Design’ by Yasuo Kondo

A book centred on the work and thinking of Yasuo Kondo, a Japanese designer who moved between architecture, interiors, and spatial design.

His work treats interiors not simply as decoration, but as constructed environments shaped through proportion, detail, material, and atmosphere. He explains his methodology towards his design work in depth over the course of the book.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @de_architects_
– @interiorandfilms
– @johnpawsonworks
– @lburri

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Seetal Solanki is a materials translator, writer, researcher and founder of Ma-tt-er.
Through research, design and storytelling, she follows materials across people, places and processes, uncovering the lives, cultures and systems they shape. She is endlessly curious about movement, language, material intelligence and how we genuinely live.

Instagram: @seetalsolanki @ma_tt_er
Website: www.ma-tt-er.org

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
My favourite interior I’ve come across would have to be Thar House, my dear friends Dushyant and Priyanka’s studio and home at Studio Raw Material in Makrana, Rajasthan, India. I’ve had the privilege of witnessing it become what it is over time, and more recently of living within it for a few days. What moved me wasn’t simply the architecture or objects themselves, but the way the space felt deeply connected to the people, materials and landscape around it. Marble dust, stone fragments, larger-than-human-scale hemp paper lighting structures, vivid yet subtle textile tapestries, material experiments and everyday life all seemed to exist in conversation with one another. There were reflections of the landscape everywhere, with materials acting almost as mirrors of the land itself.

I remember herds of cows passing by and drinking from the green marble pool as I took my morning swim, shifts in light throughout the day, and electric storms rolling in to break the 40-degree heat. There was a rhythm to it all that felt entirely different from city life. It never felt designed for spectacle; it felt lived with. I think that’s what I’m always searching for in interiors: spaces that don’t impose themselves, but quietly reveal the people and worlds that shape them. Thar House belongs there.

Although I have to admit, shedding a tear at Tadao Ando’s Chichu Art Museum on Naoshima Island comes very close.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
These two light mills in my bedroom are probably my favourite objects. I wake up to them daily. I’m fascinated by the mystery of them: once sunlight touches them, the centre begins to spin as if by magic. I still don’t fully understand how they work and I like that. Sometimes not knowing is important. They remind me that there are things beyond my comprehension, and there’s something deeply humbling and alive in that feeling.

[003] Describe your dream interior if you had no budget restraints.
My dream interior would sit within a red mud house beside a gently flowing stream, surrounded by trees and not too far from dusty desert plains. I imagine a home that feels embedded within the landscape rather than imposed onto it. Small punctured windows would frame light carefully, with larger openings using louvres to allow air and shadows to move freely through the space.

The furniture would be simple and almost inseparable from the architecture itself, emerging from the walls and floors as though it belongs there rather than being placed within it. I’m not interested in clutter or excess; I’d want objects to feel adaptable, able to shift and move around the home depending on the needs of the day. Lots of nooks and assemblages would be placed deliberately around the home.

Everything would be made with materials of that place, alongside the people and knowledge systems rooted there. I’d also avoid air conditioning entirely and instead build climate intelligence into the home itself, allowing materials, ventilation and spatial design to do the work naturally. Ultimately, I’d want it to feel quiet, grounded and deeply connected to the land. Obviously not London, haha

[004] What has piqued your interest lately?
Lately, I’ve been interested in making again, working with my hands, becoming less dependent on my laptop and being more present. I recently returned from India with a suitcase full of khadi fabrics and, in many ways, it fed my soul. It feels like giving myself permission to become deeply obsessed with something that exists purely for me again. I can’t yet tell you exactly what I’ll be making and that uncertainty feels exciting. I’m trusting the process and, as always, letting the material guide me.

Being in India also reminded me of something that has fascinated me for years: the way landscapes and regions can become organised around materials. Moving between rural and urban environments, I kept noticing how marble, stone, salt and other materials seemed to shape not only place, but ways of living. I’ve seen this across many parts of the world and it continually reinforces my belief that materials carry their own intelligence, shaping identities, trade routes, skills and entire economies through their movement across people and places. Material migration is where my mind is right now, and I’m and I’m following its path across people, place and process.

[005] Can you share images of your interior and tell us a bit about it?
My home is filled with fabrics and objects collected through places I’ve visited and people I’ve met. I’m less interested in things as possessions and more interested in the stories they carry. Many of the textiles I own come directly from makers and craftspeople I’ve encountered, so I know where they came from, who touched them and the landscapes they belong to. Alongside these are curious objects that hold value for me beyond monetary or cultural worth.

Having other living beings in my home is also important to me. My plants feel like trees within my humble abode; they constantly communicate and keep me attuned to rhythms beyond my own. Scent and light are equally important. There is almost always incense burning and, at night, candles replace artificial lighting. It’s a way of creating softness and remaining centred rather than overwhelmed by constant artificial stimulus.

I also have far too many books, they’re currently spilling off my Vitsoe shelves and are in desperate need of an overhaul. But I’ve realised that I’m interested in being surrounded by knowledge in many forms. Not only books, but plants, textiles, food, cooking utensils, light and rituals all have something to teach me.

Despite all of this, I’m actually quite simple in how I approach my home. I don’t like to overdo it. I want my space to feel lived with rather than designed. It’s my sanctuary.

I. Deana Lawson

Deana Lawson’s work may be seen as a photography masterpiece, and rightly so, but what draws me in is the way her images sit somewhere between documentation and construction. Her photographs hold an intensity that feels almost cinematic, where every pose, object and detail appears deliberate without losing its humanity.

There is a quiet tension between intimacy and performance that I find incredibly compelling. I’m also drawn to the way her work explores identity not as something fixed, but as something layered and held through people, gestures and environments.
Many of her portraits unfold within people’s homes, and I love the honesty of that.

The interiors, objects and everyday surroundings never feel secondary; they quietly reveal something about the lives being lived and the people inhabiting them. Her photographs remind me that portraits are never only about individuals; they are also about atmosphere, relationships and everything that exists around them.

II. ‘Happy Victims’ by Kyoichi Tsuzuki

Happy Victims is one of those books that reminds me that people often reveal themselves most honestly through the things they choose to live with. Rather than polished or idealised interiors, it captures spaces shaped by obsession, collecting and deeply personal rituals of living. I’m always interested in how everyday objects accumulate meaning over time, becoming markers of identity, memory and desire. What I love about this book is that it celebrates the highly specific and sometimes excessive ways people build worlds around themselves.

III. ‘Cross-Cultural Chairs’ by Matteo Guarnaccia

Cross-Cultural Chairs reminds me that everyday objects often hold the deepest stories. Through something as familiar as a chair, the book opens up wider conversations around movement, place, culture and the body. I’m fascinated by the way materials and objects travel through people and geographies, carrying traces of different ways of living. What appears to be a simple catalogue of chairs gradually becomes a portrait of human behaviour itself.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @hoodmidcenturymodern
– @african_brutalism
– @navelichoyal
– @adireafricantextiles
– @cnshanbai
– @karuncollection
– @gangamaki
– @straft__
– @guzangs

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Tutto Bene is an ethos - A pursuit of simplicity, an optimistic approach, a commitment to excellence. Tutto Bene is the international interior, architecture, and design studio by Felizia Berchtold and Oskar Kohnen, based in London and Milan.

Founded on a partnership of curious minds, Tutto Bene builds spatial narratives on meticulous research. Their varied projects are unified by a distinctive atmosphere, constructed with a balance of historical reverence and modern minimalism. Organisation and discipline, measured with the intriguing and the beautiful - a principle of ‘romantic simplicity’.
Everything is good.

Instagram: @tuttobenestudio
Website: www.tutto-bene.com

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
Oskar: For me, it would be The Grill in the Seagram Building, NYC. It’s rooted in modernism, but also incredibly romantic. It’s very rational in its architecture, but at the same time it feels warm, glamorous and cinematic. We love those classic New York restaurants and brasseries – the anonymity of them, the idea of a power lunch, places that feel like everyone in them has a story. It’s all true materials: travertine, rosewood, brass, and the patterned carpet in shades of blush and browns. The chain curtains shimmer every time the air moves, there’s the Richard Lippold sculpture floating above the bar, cracked glass screens, and those completely panelled private rooms with Warhols hanging on the walls. Even the kitchen has this energy to it – apparently, there are people polishing glasses all day long. The place is designed very intentionally, but doesn’t feel staged.

Felizia: Mine is almost the opposite. There’s a villa on a hill above Portofino that belonged to the empress of Italian fashion publishing. It has largely remained as it was lived in, and you still feel traces of all the people who passed through there – family, friends, designers, artists. What I love is that it feels completely personal. The aesthetic is strict, but the compositions and atmosphere are incredibly free. It feels like a total expression of one person’s identity and way of life.

Today, so many interiors feel produced for images or become fantasies of themselves. This one is an actual phenomenon. It’s also an interior that is focused toward the exterior – the expansive terrace with the atom pine tree towering over the levels, the views across the bay, the weather moving over the horizon, the light changing several times a day. It extends beyond the boundaries of the room itself.

We spent our wedding week there, because it resonated with us personally, our life in Milan and aesthetic as well as intellectual leanings. It also encapsulates something we deeply love about Milan and fashion culture: the idea that style is a personal act of authorship. Because ultimately, interiors, like style, should tell you something about the person behind them.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
That changes constantly, but at the moment it’s a painting of Venus Pointing Cupid to Psyche (after Raphael). Dated to the 17th century and anonymous, it is copied from a fresco in the Loggia of Cupid and Psyche at Villa Farnesina in Rome. The fresco became a subject for students of painting and was reproduced many times over the years. There’s also a drawing of it in the Victoria & Albert Museum collection.

When we first saw our painting, it reminded Felizia of a painting we saw at the Prado in Madrid by Guido Reni, who was known for these graceful, harmonious figures and produced several variations of the Venus and Cupid theme throughout his career. The painting has this classical beauty, but there’s also something slightly strange and contemporary about it. Carrying traces of previous lives and stories of inspiration, there’s something grounding about being surrounded by a piece this old.

[003] Describe your dream interior if you had no budget restraints.
We actually don’t really believe that good things emerge from unlimited freedom. Most good projects come from constraints – context, budget, existing architecture, reality itself. We’re interested in working with what exists rather than escaping from it. But if we’re allowed to enter dream territory for a moment: we’d have an apartment with Paris facing west, Milan to the south, and New York looking east.

[004] What has piqued your interest lately?
Felizia: I’m glad you asked. Landscape! Completely and obsessively. Some personal life developments have made me fascinated by gardens and exterior spaces in a way I hadn’t anticipated. I’m reading everything I can find about gardens and plants right now. It feels like discovering something that was somehow already part of you, but you simply hadn’t noticed yet.

Our work is fundamentally about seeing, and gardens encourage us to practice the art of seeing… composition, space, volume, colour – but also seasons, growth, care, time and our inner gaze. We recently worked with Simone Gooch on the flower shop inside the Fornasetti showroom, which accelerated the obsession. I met Bas Smets at an opening in New York the other week and asked him for his top three books for an aspiring landscape architect. I’ll work my way through them.

Right now I’m reading Gardens: An Essay on the Human Condition, by Robert Pogue Harrison, which I picked up at the Fine Arts Museum in Boston. It’s captivating - philosophical, historical, and dangerous because it makes you want to leave the office and start digging up some soil immediately.

[005] Can you share images of your interior and tell us a bit about it?
Our Milan pied-à-terre sits in a turn-of-the-century palazzo near Magenta. It’s restrained in size and design, but decadent in atmosphere. It grew out of our daily rituals and how we wanted to live. For us, context is incredibly important. The apartment itself is a source of everyday inspiration – living within this history reminds us that, as designers, we’re participating in a wider ongoing discourse. We’re part of something bigger, channelling ideas that ultimately belong to a moment in time rather than purely to ourselves. Milan is such an industrial city, it balances with the romanticism in our space. The original terrazzo floors and the green light filtering through the surrounding trees became our starting point. We wanted the apartment to feel calm and clear.

For us, value appears through interaction rather than through excess. The elements within the space behave almost as objects for life: the kitchen as a unit, the wardrobe as a unit. Precise interventions inserted into a historic shell, allowing the existing architecture to continue dictating much of the atmosphere and energy. There’s a choreography to moving through it: cooking, working, gathering, stepping onto the terrace beneath the wisteria canopy. More than anything, it reflects how we live and work.

I. ‘Japanese Flower Arrangements’ by Seido Iwata, 1954

We love this book for the obvious qualities of harmony, balance and beauty, but also for the dialogue between nature and human care. We tend to gravitate towards anything made with a great deal of attention and devotion.

What is particularly striking is the photography. Being over seventy years old, the images sit somewhere between painting and photography – both graphic and soft, atmospheric in a way that makes you linger on the pages.

II. ‘Maria Pergay, Complete Works 1957-2010’ by Suzanne Demisch and Stephane Denant (Demisch Denant Gallery), 2011

What we love about Maria Pergay is that she worked outside of clear categories and schools of thought. This book reveals the full range of her work – from the pieces that are now celebrated and endlessly referenced by contemporary design, to more decorative and deeply client-specific interiors and commissions. There’s a lesson in that for us: the importance of continuing to make things, allowing work to evolve and resisting the pressure to remain stylistically fixed.

We also love this book because we admire the work Demisch Denant does as a gallery. Too much historic furniture and design is exhibited and sold in a purely object- and image-driven way. Researching, curating and producing books and archives feels like a more meaningful contribution to design culture. Since women have historically been given less visibility within design history, preserving and documenting this work becomes important in helping to shape and expand the narrative.

III. ‘Nelle case. Milan Interiors 1928-1978’, by Enrico Morteo & Orsina Simona Pierini

Cover of the Book, a book that we love, as it is a meticulous documentation of over 300 Milan interiors from the “golden age” of Italian design. Every project is accompanied by a 1:200 floor plan of the project. We always thought it was a shame that no one publishes plan drawings of interiors anymore. This book is an everyday bible for us.

Through our work with Fornasetti, we worked quite closely with the company’s archive and archivist. The collaboration between Gio Ponti and Piero Fornasetti was one of those great matches made in heaven, showing how figures who were so different worked together.

Ponti appreciated that, through decoration and artistic printing, a common, modern, industrial object could become something magical and theatrical. This duality, which we see in this collaboration, deeply inspires us.

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Christian Cassiel is a British-Jamaican visual artist whose practice is grounded in archival research, material culture, and the study of how people inhabit and transform space. His work examines the relationship between communities and their environments, focusing on the objects, structures, and spatial practices that reveal cultural identity and historical continuity.

He is the founder of Seed Archives, a London-based research library and cultural space holding titles on African and Caribbean art, design, and pre-colonial texts. Set within an intentionally curated home environment that holds traditional African objects and furniture, visitors are actively encouraged to engage with the works on display — with books providing context and a means of connecting with their own identities and histories.

Instagram: @Seedarchives
Website: seedarchives.com
Email: seedinservice@gmail.com

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
One that comes to mind is the home of art collector Sylvaine Sankalé, which I had the pleasure of photographing in Dakar for The World of Interiors last April.

His collection, spanning West African art, furniture and objects, has been slowly built over three decades. Being in a space filled with so many objects carrying such complicated histories and contexts can be quite overwhelming, yet there's a surprising sense of harmony between pieces, which also sit in conversation with the contemporary works of Senegalese artists.

Sylvaine's knowledge and his generosity with his space contribute to that warmth, encouraging you to sit with the works and truly engage with them.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
I have a few favourites that I love and appreciate in different ways, but currently it’s a cup carved from horn — a gift from the father of an architecture student who came to visit Seed last week. She first came last summer with her parents; her father is a Bamoun chief who sometimes acts as a delegate between Cameroon and the UK. We had a really lovely conversation about traditional objects and how our heritage should be displayed.

These cups are traditional drinking vessels, carved from the horns of animals such as the African buffalo or cow. Historically reserved for royalty and nobles in the Grassfields kingdoms, they were primarily used during ceremonial gatherings, rituals, and for pouring libations of palm wine. He has one that his own father gave to him, and told me I should bring this cup with me when I visit their home for dinner, which feels like exactly the right way for an object like this to live.

[003] Describe your dream interior if you had no budget restraints.
My dream space would be in The Gambia, where I’ve developed a relationship with the land and its people over the last few years. The architecture and materials would be entirely vernacular — built from earth bricks and drawing inspiration from the landscape. There would be a library and gallery celebrating local and international artists, free and accessible to the local community. The Inside and outside world would merge seamlessly; you would feel part of the Gambian ecosystem.

There are many palm trees there, and the terrain is beautiful, so I’d want a second floor that sits at canopy height, so you feel truly immersed within it. I have a vision to build a space where local artisans and designers across the diaspora can share ideas and collaborate. And I would build a bantaba — of earth and palm — which is the Mandinka word for a place where people gather to discuss the matters of the village.

Essentially, a whole expansion of Seed, but rooted on the African continent.

[004] What has piqued your interest lately?
I watched a documentary about earthen domestic dwellings called Sikien, structures that are part fortress, part shrine, part granary. They are the architectural tradition of the Batammariba people of north-eastern Togo and neighbouring Benin. The episode was part of a series by the Met Museum on cultural landmarks across Africa, and the sense of community involved in building and preserving these structures deeply resonated with me.

It opened up a broader conversation I’m interested in around materials and building across the continent. In many villages, you’ll see zinc metal roofing, which to some might read as sophisticated and a sign of development, but it doesn’t really make sense when you consider the climate. There was one woman in the documentary who mentioned that she disliked metal roofing because when it rained, it was too loud to be able to talk. That stayed with me. It made me think much more carefully about the materials we choose when we build, and how they can shape the way we interact with one another.

[005] What’s one thing you own that you won’t ever sell?
I have a stool carved by the Igbo people of Nigeria, which I bought for a pop-up reading installation I worked on last year. I have many objects coming and going through Seed — it’s a natural rotation, and it’s also a small space, so sometimes I have to let things go. But this particular stool became so loved that I just couldn’t part with it.

When visitors first encounter it, they appreciate how finely carved it is, so much so that they’re often hesitant to sit on it. But once they do, they realise just how sturdy and comfortable it is. A perfect blend of beauty and practicality. Things at Seed are meant to be used.

[005] Can you share images of your interior and tell us a bit about it?
Seed is currently a sort of amalgamation of personal objects collected from travels, pieces for sale, books in no particular order, and remnants of past installations, there isn’t really space for anything else. In my mind it’s rather chaotic, but it seems to give everyone a sense of peace, which is all that matters.

I try to arrange the space in a way that allows visitors to engage with it however suits them. People who are more conversational tend to sit in the centre and enjoy sharing ideas with other guests; those who prefer a sense of solitude gravitate toward the corner chair, which I personally recommend, you get a lovely view of the room and a cool breeze from outside.

Music plays an important role in the experience of Seed, and the sound system stands as a kind of shrine — the amplifier resting on an Ashanti stool, because music is sacred, of course. One aspect I particularly enjoy is how traditional objects sit in dialogue with pieces by contemporary makers, such as a shelf by Andu Masebo or a chair by Myles Igwe.

I. ‘The Living Arts of Nigeria’, Edited by Willaim Fagg, 1971

The title caught my attention from the start, specifically the phrase ‘The Living Arts,’ a quiet but deliberate departure from the problematic language of earlier works on African art. The book is beautifully printed, with photographs by Harri Peccinotti celebrating crafts actively practised across Nigeria — pottery, weaving, bronze casting, carving, these are complemented by watercolour illustrations showing each process step by step.

I first came across this copy last summer while browsing antique shops along the coast in Ramsgate. What makes it particularly special is that it’s a limited edition of 500 copies, wrapped in Adire indigo cloth from Abeokuta, signed by everyone involved in its creation — and tucked inside are a photograph of the team and typewritten pages documenting the production process.

II. ‘ETHIOPIA: design & decoration’, 1986

Good books on the material culture of Ethiopia, or East Africa in general, are really quite difficult to find. Seed’s collection is weighted toward West Africa, but I try my best to cover all corners of the continent.

I was quite excited to come across this title, published by the Ethiopian Tourism Commission. I’d recently acquired an Ethiopian stool for a pop-up library space at Union Pacific Gallery and had been researching its origins, so I was pleased to find an example of it documented here. These stools are known to be carved in the Oromo region, particularly around the city of Jimma.

III. ‘Baugh: Jamaica’s Master Potter’, by Laura Tanna and Cecil Baugh, 1999

This is one of those lucky gems you sometimes stumble across in a charity shop. I hadn’t been aware of his work before, but it was a real pleasure to be introduced. This copy is signed by Baugh himself.

Cecil Baugh travelled to England in 1948 aboard the Empire Windrush to study under Bernard Leach, regarded as the father of British studio pottery, at his influential artists’ colony in St Ives, Cornwall. He was the only Black student to have studied with Leach, and the two developed a friendship that lasted for years. Returning to Jamaica, he helped establish what became the Edna Manley College for the Visual and Performing Arts and is credited with initiating the flourishing studio pottery movement on the island.

His work ranged from utilitarian earthenware and the traditional Afro-Jamaican yabba pots to sculptural forms, and he developed a distinctive ultramarine Egyptian Blue glaze after spending some time in Cairo. His work is defined through decades of experimentation with local materials.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @wade.store
– @baoulecore
– @saluiwadistudio
– @an.african.design.canon
– @objectandtheory

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Guy Tobin has spent the past 28 years woven into the fabric of the British antiques and design industry; 23 of those based in various businesses on London’s Pimlico Road. He now consults for a handful of private clients, buys and sells across many disciplines and is working on a fabric collection.

Instagram: @guytobin2
Website: guytobin.co.uk

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
I am an obsessive collector of images - over 80,000 on my phone at last count - and return to these archives endlessly. My library is currently in storage whilst we renovate which has been a great irritation for the past three years. There is however a strong core of interiors that I return to; Bill Blass’s Drawing Room in NY, Givenchy’s rooms at Le Jonchet, Rose Tarlow’s Living Room in California but at number 1 is David Sylvester’s house in Notting Hill.

I visited the house in the mid-90’s when doing work experience at Spink to take an ancient Egyptian schist bust on approval; it was here that I fully understood what I wanted to do, how I wanted to live, collect and display pieces that would remain in my own collection. Sadly no schist head yet but I do own Barry Flanagan’s etching of Sylvester that sits beside my desk.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
An impossibly difficult question ... obviously the most recent purchase gets the heart rate up but it’s the thrill of the chase rather than the actual ownership, so once nestled into the collection one almost forgets about it.

That said, I have pieces I have owned for decades or the pieces that I very deliberately gave to my wife to avoid selling; so there must be favourites.

All my pieces by Phoebe Cummings rate high. I recently enabled a commission for her; she has created an astonishing wall garden in varying hues of clay. So I think I will probably say my single peony head by Phoebe; part of her piece ‘Triumph of the Immaterial’ created in 2017 for the V&A. A fountain in raw clay that eroded and dissolved over time as the fountain flowed for one minute each day at noon.

[003] Describe your dream interior if you had no budget restraints.
Lack of budgetary constraint, now that’s nirvana!

All the greatest interiors benefited from such largesse, usually because the creator funded them personally. Thomas Hope at Duchess Street. Sir John Soane’s house at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Peggy Guggenheim in Venice. Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema’s Townshend House. Ivor Braka in Chelsea.

On the assumption, we are underway with a pretty dreamy set-up in the country, I’d be quite happy with a studio on Glebe Place. Not overly large but with some walls to take pictures at scale.

The vaulted studio would be the focus. First would be the recreation of Alma-Tadema’s drawing room floors at Townshend House; a highly polished almost ebony finish. Walls upholstered in a deep green velvet with edges finished in a distressed giltwood trim. A single central Regency Colza light and then I can go wild with furniture, sculpture and works of art.

[004] What has piqued your interest lately?
My current focus - read obsession - is getting a Brugmansia (Angel’s Trumpet) cutting to flower. It was on its last legs over the winter but it has sprung back with the warmth of Spring.

These can be pretty dangerous plants, inducing a powerful trance and at times temporary insanity if leaves or seeds are ingested. Beautiful but potentially lethal!


[005] Is there an object you regret letting go?
I have been in this business a long time, long enough to realise the cyclical nature of everything. So either that object will reappear, a better version will come along or something completely unrelated will divert one’s attention.

Having said that I have found some wonderful things over the years and the Jean-Pierre Hagnauer silver-plate and petrified wood side table bought in Denmark and subsequently sold in London will be contested hard for when it reappears.

I. ‘Jacques Grange - Recent Work’ by Pierre Passebon

Jacques Grange seems to have no limitations; every century, style, geography and material is mustered in his decorating armoury. There is a wonderful mix of humour, tradition and modernity from room to room and no project is alike.

II. ‘The Destruction of the Country House - 1875 - 1975’ by (Sir) Roy Strong, Marcus Binney and John Harris

The accompanying catalogue to an important show at the V&A Museum that highlighted the disastrous fate of many British houses during the 20th century; in 1955 alone, 48 important houses were destroyed. The book draws together images (& essays) of many of these houses. Each named with its owner, architect, date of construction and its ‘death’ date.

Most powerful for me are the images capturing time capsuled interiors. I would advise John Harris’s books ‘No Voice from the Hall’ & ‘Confessions of a Country House Snooper’ to be read in conjunction with this.

III. ‘The Art Dealers’ by Laura de Coppet and Alan Jones

I am fascinated by the business of the art and antiques trade. Duveen - The Story of the Most Spectacular Art Dealer of All Time - is a book I return to frequently.

To paraphrase Mark Twain ‘history doesn’t repeat itself, humans do’ and to learn from previous leaders in one’s industry is vital. Recently discovered, The Art Dealers - written in the early 80’s - contains a series of interviews with leading voices of the time. De Coppet and Jones would make a killer podcast for now.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @eddytemplemorris
– @pinxtonandco
– @elliotdavies.art
– @mbmcstudios
– @leonorahamillstudio

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Bianca Felicori is an author, curator, and architectural historian. She is Head of Research at the Architectural Institute of Paris and Professor at NABA, Milan. She is the founder of Forgotten Architecture, a digital archive and editorial project dedicated to overlooked twentieth-century architecture.

Instagram: @biancafelicori @forgotten__architecture

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across?
My favourite interior is undoubtedly the apartment that Ettore Sottsass Jr. designed for the artist Arnaldo Pomodoro in Milan between 1965 and 1967. Through my project Forgotten Architecture, I was able to trace the current owner, with whom I gradually became friends. I’ve spent a great deal of time in that apartment, and I even organised the first press conference for my book there.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
The pair of glasses that Hans Hollein designed for the Austrian Pavilion at the 1968 Triennale (the Austriennale). It’s an extraordinary object, which I bought for a ridiculously low price on Subito.it (the Italian equivalent of eBay) from an elderly architect named Corrado.

In the listing, he had written: “no SMS, no WhatsApp”. When I arrived at his apartment, he decided to test me, asking whether I was familiar with Studio Nizzoli, to see if I was “worthy” of the object. I replied that I had done my very first internship in one of their buildings (the former Domus editorial offices in Rozzano). At that point, he handed me the glasses.

[003] Describe your dream interior.
That’s a difficult question. I’ve been imagining my dream home since I was a child. I used to draw it endlessly on paper, and even in the park, arranging leaves on the ground to sketch its floor plan around the trees. In a way, I think this long-standing obsession guided me toward studying architecture: the desire to imagine my own habitat, to inhabit a space that truly feels like mine.

If I had to answer instinctively, without overthinking it, I would say a large loft in Paris, in Belleville—ideally tucked away on one of those hidden streets where maybe ten people live, in former industrial complexes converted into housing. The interiors would be “as found”, embracing a kind of 1950s New Brutalism: floor-to-ceiling metal bookshelves, a fully metal island kitchen, an enormous sofa, and a dedicated inner room to host the Tawaraya Ring by Memphis.

On the mezzanine, our bedroom, alongside a generous walk-in wardrobe constructed entirely from construction scaffolding. Resin floors, white walls, and wooden bathrooms with large benches (very much in the spirit of John Pawson).

[004] What has piqued your interest lately?
After spending the past year almost entirely confined between home and the library to finish my PhD, I can’t help but talk about it. A doctorate is an incredibly complex journey. The hardest part is identifying a direction: touching on multiple themes without ever fully exhausting them, always situating them in relation to your core research. Very often, when such a long project finally comes to an end, you’re left with an intense desire to dive deeply into certain topics you encountered along the way—subjects you had the chance to discover, but never quite enough.

For instance, I would love to devote time to London’s student magazines of the 1950s, particularly Polygon, the journal of the Regent Street Polytechnic. In its pages, students even invented their own aesthetic language—described as “rolly-polly”, “plonkable”, and “sensual”—as a way of escaping the boredom of postwar Neo-Empiricism in Britain.

[005] Who other than yourself would you trust to decorate your home?
Gae Aulenti <3 if I could turn back time

I. ‘This Is Tomorrow’ Exhibition Catalogue from Whitechapel Galllery

The exhibition catalogue This Is Tomorrow, held at the Whitechapel Gallery in London in 1956. I purchased it from an elderly gentleman who runs a kind of online catalogue and sells items through Instagram.

This Is Tomorrow represents one of the most significant postwar collaborations between British artists and architects. The curator, Theo Crosby, divided them into twelve groups, each tasked with creating an installation exploring the relationship between art and architecture.

Among the participants were major figures of the second half of the twentieth century, including Richard Hamilton, Eduardo Paolozzi, Peter and Alison Smithson, James Stirling, and Reyner Banham.

II. ‘Gioielli di Architetti’ edited by Barbara Radice

Gioielli di Architetti, a book edited by Barbara Radice dedicated to the collection of jewelry designed by architects assembled by Cleto Munari and published by Electa.

Inside the volume are pieces by renowned figures such as Mario Bellini, Michele De Lucchi, Peter Eisenman, Michael Graves, Hans Hollein, Arata Isozaki, Richard Meier, Alessandro Mendini, Paolo Portoghesi, Peter Shire, Ettore Sottsass, Lella Vignelli, and Marco Zanini.

The book showcases how architects — often known for structures and buildings — have translated their design thinking into jewelry. This collection highlights the intersection of architectural concepts with wearable art, revealing how form, proportion, and creative vision can manifest in objects worn on the body.

III. ‘Arte Povera’ by Germano Celant

My beloved book Arte Povera, written by Germano Celant and published by Gabriele Mazzotta Editore in Milan in 1969. The volume is a foundational document of the Arte Povera movement, a groundbreaking strand of contemporary art in Italy that Celant himself defined and promoted.

In this book, he brings together photographs and texts on key works and artists associated with Arte Povera, including figures such as Michelangelo Pistoletto, Jannis Kounellis, Mario Merz, Marisa Merz, Giuseppe Penone, Alighiero Boetti, Giovanni Anselmo, and many others.

IG Accounts to follow?

– Casa Futura
– Women Writing Architecture
– Beks Library
– Films Architecture
– Compulsive Archive

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Stanley Quaia is the Gallery & Studio Director at Béton Brut, a London based design gallery primarily presenting historic design-led furniture. Since joining Béton Brut over eight years ago he developed its contemporary design arm, working with designers aligned philosophically and aesthetically to create exclusive and often limited edition bodies of work. He also works across the design and art industry consulting on a wide range of projects under his practice Heavy Duty Services.

Instagram: @stanley.quaia @betonbrutlondon @heavy_duty_services

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
Without doubt my favourite piece is the Rampa, designed in 1965 by designers and brothers Pier & Achille Castiglione. The Castiglione’s were inspired by the display units used by florists commonly found in the famous squares of Italian cities. It is a movable double sided cabinet. Pushed against a wall or wheeled out, it can be used as a desk, storage unit and display plinth.

It cuts a very pleasing graphic side profile and is a joy to live with. I have owned three of these over the years and I love the quality feel of the materials and mechanisms specified on the vintage ones. The Rampa was originally made from Jacaranda wood by Bernini, a renowned manufacturer of highly crafted precision-engineered furniture.

I would note however, that Rampa doesn’t fit through a standard door, as a result, my main search criteria when looking for somewhere to live is the width of its front door.

[002] What has piqued your interest lately?
The work of architect and designer Roberto Gerosa. I had seen photographs of his work in disparate fragments spread out over years. But a random mention of his work during dinner with friends in Milan gave me that six degrees moment that saw me meeting up with Roberto a few days later. He welcomed me into his incredible home and studio in Milan, converted from a carpentry workshop. We had lunch then he showed me all his handmade lamps dotted around his densely layered dreamlike interior. Roberto’s distinctive aesthetic mixes traditional forms with relaxed imaginative handmade construction details and materials.

By freakish coincidence, a week later I stayed in a property he designed in Venice, a vast one bedroom apartment in an old converted storage space. Living in it for four days with my partner and baby gave me the chance to truly absorb his work. Filled with a sense of drama, the theatre stage-like layout and incorporation of materials such as vintage mirrors, patterned textiles and crushed brass has left a lasting impression. Living in the space also highlighted that his work doesn’t just look good in photographs. It was highly functional, executed to an extremely high standard and inspired a calming yet creative headspace.

[003] Best piece you ever got extremely cheap?
I think the best piece was something I found in my Nonna’s garage so it didn’t cost me anything. Design runs through my family: my mum was a textile designer, my dad a furniture designer, my grandmother an antiques dealer, and my uncle Paolo dealt in Italian mid-century design. In the 80s and early 90s, my uncle would drive over vans full of Italian design to sell to London dealers, returning to Italy with English antiques for my Nonna to sell over there. When she moved back to Italy fulltime to retire, I cleared her garage out and found a few design gems that were forgotten about, too broken to sell or in need of tricky restorations.

The star of these finds was a pair of AM/AS series wall lights designed by Franco Albini, Franca Helg and Antonio Piva in the 1960s. They were manufactured from plated steel with opal glass shades by my favorite lighting manufacturer Sirrah. The design is notable for being very well made and for featuring an innovative pin connection that allows the light to be an uplighter, downlighter or both at the same time.

[004] What’s the one that got away?
There are too many examples to pick from, it is almost a weekly occurrence. Working with vintage design, you quickly learn that you can’t dwell long on the ones that got away. Instead I try to keep in focus the ones that have gone well. For me, that is not guided by return on investment but instead the strength of matching pieces to the new owner/interior.

A nice example of this began when I visited my friend Harald Bichler, founder of Rauminhalt gallery in Vienna, we went to his storage facility, on the outskirts of the city. Within this enormous crumbling factory building was an amazing collection of design and fine art.

I spotted a stack of terracotta flower pots that incrementally increased in both diameter and height. Harold mentioned this was an early piece by Jasper Morrison made whilst he was studying at the RCA. Now missing its top, I thought it would have extremely little appeal to most people. I managed to reunite it with Jasper and he remade the table top. Subsequently, it featured within his 2022 London Design Festival exhibition called ‘early work’.

[005] Can you tell us a bit about your home?
This is the tiny three story house I lived in for 5 years in Shoreditch East London with my partner prior to having a baby. The property didn’t have a single right angle in it, everything was weirdly shaped which made it a fun challenge to furnish. I was initially drawn to the fact that each of the three floors came with a distinct look. The ground floor living room was completely lined with sandblasted wooden planks. The top floor bedroom had a pitched roof with very old exposed handmade brick walls. The basement kitchen was a concrete cave with a gnarly wooden ceiling formed from the joists from the floor above.

Due to the awkward size and shape of the property, the first task was making a functional layout. This proved hard initially but after a few months things began to fall into place. An added layer of complexity was the fact that a lot of the things I was living with were in constant flux as I would buy and sell pieces. There was a strong theme to what I was living with as I am particularly drawn to Italian design of the 60s, 70s and 80s due to there being a great depth of boundary pushing forms and typologies that are beautifully manufactured.

I. ‘Repertorio del Design Italiano 1950-2000: Per L’Arredamento Domestico’ by Giuliana Gramigna

The three books I have selected are the ones I am constantly revisiting on a monthly basis. The Repertorio is a bible for dealers of Italian design. Giuliana Gramigna was a great designer and important design academic and the Repertorio is a very thorough two volume survey of furniture and lighting produced in Italy over 50 years.

II. ‘Pierre Chareau: Designer and Architect’ by Brian Brace Taylor

Pierre Chareau occupies a special place in my head. He seamlessly worked across architecture, interiors, furniture, and lighting with a coherent design language. His work is materially and technically innovative, yet consistently grounded in the practical realities of living. He combines industrial materials with careful attention to scale, movement, and privacy. I am particularly drawn to his wall table made from iron and wood that allows its user the ability to slide it along a horizontal axis.

III. ‘Carlo Scarpa: Architecture and Design’ by Guido Beltramini & Italo Zannier

Carlo Scarpa doesn’t need an introduction. All I can say is I have tried my best to visit as many of his projects as possible and I am yet to find one that disappoints. Bold, impactful architecture woven together by innovative layouts and awe inspiring detailing. The spaces he designs simply feel great to be in.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @grace___prince
– @tuttobenestudio
– @jasper.morrison
– @magalireus
– @m_r.a.a.d
– @david__horan

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Hannah Martin is a New York-based editor, writer, and sometimes curator with a focus on modern and contemporary design, art, and architecture. She is the senior design editor at Architectural Digest, where she has worked for more than a decade, and is the author of Nicola L.: Life and Art (Apartamento, 2023), the first comprehensive monograph about the pioneering French artist.

Instagram: @_h_mart_
Website: architecturaldigest.com/contributor/hannah-martin

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
A recent favorite was the interior of the Paul Rudolph Institute, designed in 1989 as the architect’s own residence. Rudolph’s strange, cut-up, cubist architecture is so much fun to experience. It felt like a modernist Swiss Family Robinson treehouse, with all these little spaces connected by tiny stairways. My favorite part was that despite the architecture being so modern, the house was filled with his collections from extensive suite of milagros to ancient textiles to boomerangs. I like when a space has a certain density and as a person with a lot of stuff I find it useful to see how other “stuff people” display it in their homes.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
It always changes. Currently, one of the objects I prize the most is an anonymous-looking Director’s chair—the ubiquitous model with canvas seat and back—that came from the Chelsea Hotel apartment of Nicola L., an artist who I wrote a book about a few years ago. Nicola had such a presence in my headspace for several years and I still think of her irreverent spirit when I sit down in that chair to do some work or have a glass of wine.

[003] Describe your dream interior or set if you had no budget restraints.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about big weird lofts and how, unfortunately, building codes and zoning laws have had such a restrictive effect on the spaces we can live in. I recently saw photos of Philippe Starck’s loft in Paris, set up in an old woodworking shop. All the ceiling pipes are exposed, the kitchen cabinets are made from corrugated metal, and there’s a lofted bed with metal blinds that can lower down for privacy. I’ve been dreaming about my version of this place ever since.

[004] What has piqued your interest lately?
Ancient furniture. I recently wrote about the Klismos chair for my Object Lesson column and it got me thinking about the earliest known living implements. I love that what we know about these artifacts actually comes from imagery on funerary vessels, painted pottery, and bas-reliefs. T. H. Robsjohn-Gibbings’s Furniture of Classical Greece is now on my wish list.

[005] Who other than yourself would you trust to decorate your home?
Jim Walrod. The late design consultant or “furniture pimp” as his friends lovingly called him made a really big mark on me when I first started writing about design.

Sadly, he passed away much too early, before we had the chance to become real friends. Jim liked to talk about living with things that really moved you–and not always in a positive way. Sometimes an ugly object was actually more potent because it made you feel something. I still think about that all the time.

I learned about so many of my biggest influences—even Nicola L., who I eventually wrote a book about—through Walrod, even if inadvertently. I’d love to see what he’d put in my apartment—and decorating a place with him just sounds like it would be really fun.

I. ‘Italy: The New Domestic Landscape’

I bought this book when I was first getting into Italian Radical design, probably about a decade ago, and it’s been an essential reference for me ever since.

It’s the exhibition catalogue for the eponymous 1972 exhibition at MoMA in New York that really changed the game in terms of how people lived. So many important design developments can be traced back to that show.

The book itself is also an incredible collectors item with tiny cut-out furnishings like the Gufram Pratone and Massimo Vignelli dishes that float behind its vellum cover. Sometimes I use them as bookmarks.

II. ‘Freestyle: The New Architecture and Interior Design from Los Angeles’

I got this book recently and have been loving rediscovering some of the truly weird things that were built in Los Angeles in the ‘80s and ‘90s. It’s also a thrill to see early Frank Gehry work, before he was a starchitect turning napkin drawings into cultural institutions.

It can be easy to feel like everything has been done—and then some—but this book feels like proof that there is still uncharted territory. Even if not always my taste, I appreciate the transgressive qualities of these spaces. I also like digging into this chapter of radical American design that often gets overlooked.

III. ‘High-Tech: The Industrial Style and Source Book for the Home’

I reference this 1978 book constantly, where Joan Kron and Suzanne Slesin track the 1970s architectural trend that was trickling down into people’s homes. In their words, it documents “the use of utilitarian industrial equipment and materials, out of context, as home furnishings.”

Inside, they show cool, often loft-y interiors that feature mass-produced hardware store staples-turned-decor—laboratory sinks, ladders, factory lighting, exposed pipes, and one of my favorites, metal office blinds. It’s actually a very useful book if you’re brainstorming storage solutions or just want a cool new look on a dime.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @knifeforkspoon.co
– @alexpwhite
– @imrevolting
– @allthequeenshouses
– @joshitiola

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Mario Ballesteros is a San Miguel de Allende, Mexico–based founder of BALLISTA, a design consultancy, as well as an independent curator, editor, and researcher in the fields of design and architecture. Over the last 15 years, he has become a significant force in Mexican design, both elevating emerging talent and celebrating established artists, architects, and designers.

Instagram: @marioballe @ballista.space
Website: ballista.space
Email: hola@ballista.space

Q+A

[001] What was the artist or designer who moved you the most and why?
I’ve always been most inspired by the dozens of young Mexican designers, artists and architects I’ve had the chance to work with. There’s a collective energy here that’s hard to name and impossible to fully get a grip on. If there’s one thing that characterizes this energy, it’s a hands-on willingness to get shit done (no matter what) and to push boundaries whenever possible. That really resonates with me.

The majority of creative practices in Mexico operate hand in hand with precariousness. There’s no pampering from schools, no cushion of an established market, no prissiness. What comes out of that is something sort of wild and instinctive, but actually also a time-tested way of shaping our own environment in our own terms, echoing traditional artisans and autoconstruction. I admire that collective drive and spirit far more than any single “author”, “tastemaker” or any sort of individualistic heroic figure.

[002] Describe your dream project if you had no budget restraints.
I guess my dream project isn’t really an interior: it’s a summer school / residency program / temporary refuge in San Miguel de Allende, the town in central Mexico where I’ve been living for the past five years, and which has its own rich history of cultural influx.

It would host artisans, artists and thinkers from places that are redefining design from the margins, geographically speaking or in terms of unconventional approaches to discipline. Rooted in arts-and-crafts, but engaging with critical issues: displacement and violence, technology and dehumanization, climate change. I don’t think much about how it would look, but more about what it would do and how it would shift things.

In Mexico, there’s an overlooked link between the rich craft traditions of places like Guanajuato (the state where San Miguel is), Oaxaca, Jalisco or Michoacán, which are also plagued by poverty, violence, displacement and environmental challenges. I think whatever we define as craft or design or making that is relevant today should explore those connections.
(If anyone’s interested in making it happen or being a part of it, let me know.)


[003] What has piqued your interest lately?
Honestly, the thing I could not be less interested in right now is design trends, trade shows, capsule collections, or anything that smells like business as usual. Design can’t afford to be about “nice stuff,” “cute vibes,” or “iconic interiors.” We can’t let the noise and the bullshit override the real power of shaping things, especially when those things affect how we live and the kind of mark we leave behind.

If you don’t have a clear, vocal stance on fascism or genocide; if you’re not actively questioning how your actions, work, habits, and obsessions are contributing to a world going down the hole (or making it better, if you’re lucky); if you’re not willing to risk privilege or position to call out injustice for fear of losing a job, a client, or a project, then I’m not interested. At least not right now.

[004] What do you look for in designers or artists you want to work with?
Everything above: commitment, rigorous questioning, social and environmental conscience, cultural sensibility, and clear, consequential action.

[005] Can you share images of your interior and tell us a bit about it?
I live in a small house with a big yard, in a pretty small town with a pretty big cultural scene that is rooted in tradition but also surprisingly open and diverse. I honestly couldn’t ask for more.

Whenever I bring something into the house (for a pop-up, a workshop, or a temporary show) I think of it as inviting someone over. I want to be drawn to it instinctively, from the gut. I want it to catch my attention, make me curious or even jealous, make me want to know more about it than to talk about myself.

When you brand a space too explicitly as an extension of your own taste or personal mythology, it gets boring really fast. I’m not interested in telling people what they should or shouldn’t buy, wear, display or be. I care much more about bringing different ideas and voices into my everyday life, and then inviting others (clients, collectors, creatives, friends) to join in on the conversation.

I. ‘4000 Years of Mexican Architecture’ edited by Pedro Ramírez Vázquez (1956)

I love bringing this book up whenever I hear someone (usually a self-proclaimed “expert” expat living in Condesa or Roma who somehow hasn’t found the time to learn Spanish yet) saying they’ve “discovered” something about Mexico. Amiga, we’ve been here, doing what we do, for a while now.

II. ‘Mexican Homes Series’ published by the Architectural Publishing Book Co

These days, whenever I work on a project, I dive back into this lovely series of books on Mexican interiors published first in the 1960s and then in the 1980s by the Architectural Publishing Book Co. Authored by Verna Cook Shipway and Warren Shipway, and later by Patricia W. O’Gorman, these small black-and-white hardcover books are a quiet treasure.

Super detailed, super dense, super didactic. An incredible archive of architectural and decorative photos and sketches, construction techniques, and a mix of old historic and mid-century domestic spaces that make you feel all warm and dreamy.

They also make you a little sad about everything we’ve lost: the quality of how we build and inhabit our homes, and the incredible care that used to go into the everyday, in a very nurturing, non-performative way.

III. ‘Arte y Memoria Indígena de México (Indigenous Art and Memory of Mexico)’ (2014)

This book documents the vast, invaluable collection of Mexico’s National Institute of Indigenous Peoples: over 30,000 ritual and functional objects from more than 60 different indigenous peoples across Mexico, dating from the 17th century to today.

There is more wealth and substance in a single page of this catalog than in the last decade of coffee-table books, lifestyle magazines, or Instagram accounts orbiting anything Mexican.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @chamula.hechoamano
– @clasicos.mexicanos
– @tribalerobooks
– Plugging my own @mexicanezas because that’s where I post everything that inspires me about Mexican material and visual culture

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Hollie Bowden is a London-based interior designer and the Creative Director of her studio. The studio has established itself over the past decade, working on luxury residential and commercial projects that combine a love of natural materials with eccentric and rarely seen pieces, within a rigorously detailed interior architectural frame.

Instagram: @holliebowden
Website: hollie-bowden.com
Email: info@holliebowden.com

Q+A

[001] What is your favourite interior you’ve come across and why?
This is such a hard question because each great interior is about a specific place, and I’m constantly amazed by new places I go, so it’s sort of always changing. One I would pick though, that has been a constant for me since I first saw it, and is in my favourite place, Mexico City, is the home of the writer, curator and truly one of the most knowledgeable people on design I know, Su Wu, and her husband, the incredible American artist Alma Allen.

Their collection of objects and artworks feels like it has been amassed over a lifetime, from friends and Su and Alma’s own pieces. It is incredibly warm, and I love that the colour comes from the objects, but the house is more neutral, with the interest coming from beautiful natural materials. What I find refreshing about the house is that the materials are honest and not necessarily expensive, but that a large gold sculpture of Alma’s, placed beautifully, lends the space an incredible richness.

It’s the effortlessness of the whole thing and how it doesn’t feel ‘capital D Designed’ - everything is so personal and carefully considered. Effortless isn’t the right word, actually; it’s more about the ease of the space, of life, like art should just naturally be a part of it. Su is one of those people with natural elegance and authority; it suffuses every level of her life, what she wears, and how she thinks. You can’t just imitate it. I think it’s the only house in the world I could move straight into without a single object of my own.

[002] What is your favourite piece in your collection?
I have so many pieces that I’ve collected over the years, and if something is really right for a project I’ll occasionally place it with a client. There was a piece I bought for a recent project which I was struggling to let go of, but in the end the client changed their mind so I was over the moon I got to keep it. It’s an animal sculpture that looks a bit like a wombat, but I’m not sure what it is. The sculpture is a ceramic by artist Timothy Humbert.

[003] Describe your dream interior or set if you had no budget restraints.
I think a Renaissance palazzo in Tuscany would be my dream. There is something incredible about Florence and the countryside surrounding it - it’s really elegant and so chilled out. These buildings are full of history, but materially they’re so interesting, with a great mix of ancient terracotta tile floors, heavy, figural, stone fire surrounds, intricate woodwork, and graciously proportioned rooms. I love houses that were designed to be social, like these were - it gets my imagination firing when I think of how you’d have a party in that kind of house. The houses tend to be an earthy yellow, pink or red on the exterior, which sits in the landscape so beautifully.

My dream for furnishing it would be to contrast the historic building envelope with a mix of antiques, 20th-century pieces, and some wild contemporary collectable design. An incredibly well curated mix of art would be essential too - maybe a big Rothko if I can be really greedy.


[004] Who other than yourself would you trust to decorate your home?
This is another very hard question because I love a lot of designers, but I think I would find it difficult to commit to living in a house with any one of them.

There are so many influences around, but it’s hard to find anyone who sums it all up. The one designer who does hit all things I love is Jacques Grange, because he doesn’t have a particularly rigid style, and he seems to be able to work in almost any architectural style. His work embodies something really important for me about interior design which is an eclecticism that spans many different periods, styles, new/old, high/low, but is ultimately about the deep knowledge and love he has for design.

I admire that there’s a thread that runs through all his projects but whether the project is more contemporary or classical, it never feels bland. I totally rate how he puts pieces together

[005] What has piqued your interest lately?
I came across a very unique Japanese architect, Terunobu Fujimori, who specialises in a vernacular, folk style that is very playful, like when you had a treehouse when you were younger.

What makes them really special is how amazingly well-crafted they are. The style is reminiscent of DIY, but in a way that’s resolved. I can imagine plonking all my bits into one of his incredible spaces and living very happily.

One thing I really like about Japanese architecture is how connected to nature it is, both materially and in terms of siting, views, and the way the border between the built environment and natural world is part of the conversation.

I. ‘Christo’ 1991, Rizzoli

Christo’s work is something that really inspires me. His work is a great reminder to never forget the poetic nature of space. We tend to see rooms, buildings, the outdoors with habitual eyes, and I love that his interventions make you see something that was always there totally anew.

II. ‘Stay Wild: Cabins, Rural Getaways, and Sublime Solitude’

I got this book during the lockdown when I was doing up a little summerhouse at my parents’ place in Gloucestershire. I love this kind of DIY aesthetic that throws off the shackles of being big and impressive and conventional.

These buildings all respond to their sense of place using clever craft and materials in the most intriguing way, especially materials that have been lying around for ages, which is incredibly ecological. There’s something about this kind of building that feels way more immediate and alive, which is so refreshing to me, because so many building projects can take bloody years to deliver results!

III. ‘Samras Album’, Lucas Samras/Whitney Museum, 1971

What I love about Samaras Album is its graphic intensity. The dot-laden cover, the warped self-portraits, the obsessive visual language — it all has this raw, physical power that sits somewhere between design and performance art. It’s provocative without being crude, graphic without losing elegance. It’s a reminder that books can be objects of pure visual impact.

IG Accounts to follow?

– @semble_studio
– @yaz_____xl
– @okolo_architecture
– @ton.magazine
– @beau_traps

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David Michon is a writer and editor based in Los Angeles. He is the author of FOR SCALE, a Substack on interiors that approaches design history with a light touch, often spotlighting the people who source and sell exceptional pieces from the past.

In addition to his editorial work, he writes widely for both magazines and brands, with a focus on culture, design, and visual storytelling.

Instagram: @for____scale
Website: for-scale.com
Email: david@for-scale.com

Q+A

[001] What makes a great interior?
Ones you can read like a f*cking book—and I speak specifically about domestic interiors. They should be autobiographical. Bad interior design to me is Travis Barker’s house—he left town, and came back to seemingly whatever Waldo Fernandez wanted (and it’s not even Waldo’s best work). The AD tour of that place is like “Are you sure this is your place, Travis?”

I heard tell of some interior designer who forces their clients to keep at least some hideous, odd thing that held sentimental value — the sort of “Dad’s rocking chair” in Frasier terms, something that undoes the “perfect”. And, that seems like a good rule.

It’s what is so special, still, about magazines like Nest or Apartamento: they don’t want something to be “objectively” good; it has to be “subjectively” good to the person who’s living there. And so they are far more interested in the “why” about décor, and are in some ways incredibly democratic about who is worthy of their pages.

[002] Describe your dream interior if you had no budget restraints.
I just want a place where everything is loved or everything has some memory attached to it, where it all feels like “mine”—that’s most important. But I admire a lot of the great homes, which in some way I’d want to borrow from: the Rogers House that Richard Rogers put together for his parents, for example, or Villa Borsani in Milan, Cy Twombly in Rome, I.M. Pei’s place in Westchester Country, the Hopkins House in London—there are about 1,000 places on this list. Or, a new one: the home of Carlo Prada of Concorde—it combines a little bit of weird, and a little bit of kink I’d say, with “very elegant”. A great balance.