10 Questions With… Almost Studio Founders

Reflecting now, our earliest projects display embers of our beliefs that have only grown stronger over the years in our studio—that a project continually reveals unknown cultural, social, and spatial potential as time passes. It is always “almost.” When you accept that some of the most fulfilling successes of a project come from the uncontrollable surprises of how it grows with people and places, it is an entirely liberating concept. You then prioritize designing for future potentials rather than past or present prescriptions.

ID: Each of you previously worked at other people’s firms. What lessons from those roles inform your projects today? 

AS: We are extremely fortunate and grateful for the experiences that we had prior to founding Almost Studio. Dorian worked in the offices of FreelandBuck, Joeb Moore & Partners, and LOT-EK, and Anthony worked and taught with Peter Eisenman and Steven Harris. At the expense of oversimplification, these mentors instilled that a project should be present at all scales—from an initial concept, to an urban plan, to private residence, to the structural drawings, to the millwork, to the reveal in the wall or floor. Architecture is at its best when it provokes, when it is built, and when it is detailed.

ID: Your studio won the 2023 Love & Design competition, selected by Times Square Arts. Where did the idea for that work begin?

AS: There were two key concepts that created the foundations to the project. The first was to design a “Code of Love” of similar breadth and regulatory authority as governmental “building codes.” What this means is that the formal basis of the entire project is driven by inclusivity—and the heart shapes themselves are generated by one square and two circles sized specifically in harmony with the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) written into all federal and state building codes. Second, the project tries to create a surrealist garden landscape in the infinite digital landscape of Times Square. For this, we referred to artists such as René Magritte and the novel Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

ID: Was it a meaningful experience to see it come to life, and are you actively looking for other competitions?

AS: This was a revelatory project for our studio because through the process, we discovered the depth of fulfillment and passion that we have for public work. We truly enjoy projects such as residences and spaces for private clients—and that will always be a critical part of our practice—but we also know that our studio is energized by having a balance and the specificities that adjoin both private and public work. Therefore, competitions, public art installations, and art exhibitions will continue to spark new ideas and ways of thinking about our private projects and vice versa.

ID: You say that you expect your completed projects to change and grow over time. How does this approach inform your work and how have you seen this happen in past projects? 

AS: For the Times Square Theater, we designed a stage—a platform for people to express themselves—and a daily live rose giveaway at 1:00PM. Over the short month of February, the project inspired and hosted many impromptu and unexpected events—including a Skrillex and Four Tet pop-up concert, two weddings, an engagement renewal ceremony for over one thousand people, a religious festival, and Season 15 of The Bachelor. Kids used it as a climbing gym, individuals hid solitary remembrances for loved ones, couples and families created memories together, and everyone was an actor in their own play for a moment.

And in the Myrtle Avenue Loft, a carved and carpeted niche was designed with carpet cut-outs to be a highly-specific dressing area for the client—that spot was eventually overtaken by their beloved family cat as a nap spot.

ID: Can you tell us a bit about your approach to materiality and shape in a retail environment like The Mandarin?

AS: Form and material are fundamental to how we think about design projects. One example is The Mandarin café that we designed in New York City in Lower Manhattan.

When initiating the project, the clients’ primary hope was to create a community and a place of daily familiarity—of “rituals and regulars.” As a result, our design was inspired by early forms of community building, such as the Indigenous Hopewell Culture from Circleville, Ohio in 100 B.C. In this case, two simple geometries—a circle and a square—are the essential organizational devices to create community and structure rituals. The café references this formal strategy in the space, the material, and the lighting. The square creates entry and holds a communal table and the café counter, while the circle is a custom banquet seating area positioning individual tables around the perimeter and encouraging spontaneous conversations and the feeling of a collective. Each form also projects and rotates down from the ceiling, allowing for a soft glow throughout the space and inspired by the artist James Turrell.

ID: It’s much different working with a client on their own residence. How does collaboration and concept play out on residential projects, for example the Bed-Stuy loft in Brooklyn?

AS: Our process—no matter what type of project—begins with art. In our first design meetings with clients, we typically present several artists and works that we feel align with the clients’ vision. Art provides an open-ended, inclusive, and less intimidating spark to learn a lot about what someone likes, and, more importantly, doesn’t like.

When a client sees an architectural reference of an apartment when starting the design of their own apartment—it is too one-to-one and too specific. You might get comments such as “I like that wall texture,” or “This kitchen island is great,” which doesn’t leave much room for interpretation or exploration. However, when discussing art with clients, we are able to better understand their proclivities to certain formal relationships, color palettes, and hierarchies of space that have an expanded means of interpretation. For example in the Myrtle Avenue Loft, we initially presented works from Christo, Josef Albers, and Kazimir Malevich to the clients.

ID: How did you get connected to fashion designer Sandy Liang?

AS: This is a little more of a straightforward answer—Dorian is married to Sandy Liang! We have been inspired by her work from the beginning and continue to learn from her throughout our own process.

ID: And what guided concept development for the Sandy Liang flagship?

AS: For this store, we drew from a few key elements throughout the design process. One was Sandy’s connection to the neighborhood, growing up there and having continued deep family ties to the area. The previous tenant of the space was a laundromat, an integral part of any local community in New York City. In the hopes of continuing a small part of that neighborhood lineage—that shared and collective inheritance—the most prominent formal feature of the store pays homage to the spiraling laundromat conveyor belts that wistfully brought clothing into closer reach.

Another key component of the project occurred partway through construction, during one of our studio’s typical site visits. While walking through the space, we noticed many hand-drawn, penciled notes from the construction workers on the patchy pink and white walls. We ended up reading through these notes as if they were a story—a story of how this retail store came to be, by the people who created it. After this, it was impossible to cover this story up with conventional, generic drywall. These notes, the pink and white patchy wall, and the story of the people and the place that created it became as much a part of the store as the clothing it was meant to display.

ID: What are you currently working on and what type of work are you most interested in doing more of?

AS: We are excited about a number of current projects happening in the studio! We are designing an apartment in Brooklyn Heights that is based on calligraphy and working on the full renovation of a house and gardens in upstate New York in the shape of an octagon (which was originally part of a “kit” of houses that you could purchase online and in catalogues).

We were also invited to showcase work in the Time Space Existence exhibition at the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale. It is a research project in collaboration with an incredible artist and friend Nanette Carter, which addresses the exhibition’s theme of “Repair, Regenerate, and Reuse.” Our specific project is referencing Nanette’s stunning work to propose new speculative suburban developments in an area just outside of Phoenix, Arizona. The work will be on display in Palazzo Mora in Venice from May to November of this year.

And our studio intends to continue scaling up as it relates to the size of projects, the amount of public interaction, and the types of programs. We hope to bring people’s visions for their homes to life in an artistic way—while also growing our relationships with companies and organizations. We hope we can continue to be surprised by the lives our projects take on over time in the public sphere as libraries, museums, senior care centers, art galleries, and many other collaborations. Just as our projects continue to grow over time, we hope our studio, our processes, and our relationships do as well—in other words we are Almost Studio.  

10 Questions With… Multidisciplinary Artist Fiyin Koko

Much of Koko’s oeuvre explores the feminine and features elements that deal with ceramics. She also loves the color blue and uses it in some of her work to evoke deep meanings that fuel her inspiration, while also fueling mysteries she hope viewers could uncover from her art. Interior Design connected with the artist to speak about reviving terra-cotta practices, making works that embody the feminine essence, and her forthcoming works.

Fiyin Koko Embodies The Feminine Essence In Her Azure Work

Interior Design: When did your story as an artist begin?

Fiyin Koko: My art career started in 2020, before the lockdown. Instead of painting, I taught myself digital design using Photoshop. When I tried ceramic art for the first time, it was because I wanted to touch my art. I was just playing around with air-dry clay and it was exciting—not because it was in my blood, but because I liked it. Then, I started figuring out my style. I wanted to feel what it was like to see art. Everything changed when I started working with clay. I became more present than when I was just doing digital art as clay has several processes—you make it, it air dries, fire it, and then you have the clay piece. It’s a really long process, but that just made me more intentional with my practice.

ID: Can you describe your background and your earliest memories of making art?

FK: My mother is an artist. I grew up being in touch with my creativity, and my mother would give us materials to do whatever we wanted. I’ve always been that gifted kid but I think for me, it’s just something I couldn’t shy away from. While I attended the University of North Carolina, I studied international relations and environmental science, but I was still painting on the side for my friends and for other people. And then I moved back to Lagos. I worked in the natural environment for a while but I was still painting and drawing every day. At some point, I just told myself that I might as well just do it professionally because it was my passion. I quit my job in January 2020, and said: Okay, let me try this thing. Because I worked in marketing, they told me to come back if I wasn’t feeling it. That same year, I had my first exhibition and I was like: Wow, this is what I want to do in my life.

ID: Why were you most interested in making works in micro-scale, as opposed to large-scale? Was that a problem of portability?

FK: I want to [work in large-scale], but I’m just afraid because playing with clay is so brutal and so fragile. I think what I have planned in my head is that I’ll work with a different material later on, maybe with fiberglass or even wood or something that I won’t be so scared to look big, essentially.

ID: Ever since you began ceramics as a practice, have you exhibited your works?

FK: I’ve done a couple of exhibitions with clay. I want to say it happened very fast. When I started working with clay, many people were just like, ‘Oh, you do clay?’ and then I received more invitations to do exhibitions. I’ve done about seven exhibitions since I started working with clay. I did a solo exhibition in December 2023 at Yenwa Gallery in Lagos that had a whole ceramic aspect as well, which was very good. I think I almost sold out every ceramic piece. The project was called “Water Me” and it was a story about love and support and how my journey started into art. I wanted to create vessels that could house water or light. People know that I work with blue because blue is my foundation.

The whole ceramic section was totally about plants. I wanted the vest that I created to stand out so I used the expand plate, which is like a coffee brown blaze. They just turned the whole thing into jewels which are very shiny. There’s some that could house light, and there’s some that could house clay. I have something that I do with clay where it resembles lighthouses. I want the pieces to be functional because I like how people can just have a sculpture in their house. Sometimes they don’t use it, but often they just interact with it. My thing is for people to connect with the ceramic piece that they’re buying. You can put in your house and then it becomes your lamp because it has holes and different openings. It’s the light that begins on your wall with different shadows. It’s nice and interactive.

ID: Do you ever approach your artistry from a spiritual angle of creation? Is there a depth to creating?

FK: I think for me, the whole process of my art is spiritual. I’m creating from dirt and sand. But in terms of: Do I have the intention to make every piece spiritual? No. When people connect with my pieces, they feel some spiritual things that I don’t even intend to add, actually. Especially with the lines. I had a group exhibition with a couple of artists and people mentioned that this is giving them a very spiritual thing. I think we associate a lot of ceramic art to be a ritualistic vessel. I think the process is spiritual in itself.

ID: More on that, are you open to the viewer’s interpretation of your works or do you feel you have to guide them to understand every piece of your art?

FK: To a large extent, I want viewers to see the work and feel whatever they feel, and get whatever they want. If I’m there and they want to know what this piece is really about, then I will talk about it and speak to them. But, for the most part, I don’t think I’m going to go there. I want them to be able to connect with the piece however they feel like.

ID: The practice of terra-cotta is an ancient one. Is it safe to say you are reviving the artistry but you are blending it with a modern twist?

FK: I think to a large extent we are reviving the artistry because we do terra-cotta in Nigeria very well. However, I’m not even thinking of an Asian influence; I’m thinking of an influence from my village, where I go sometimes to use some of the clay and see how they fire traditionally. Then also, I go to the town of Badagry and look at the clay there. Their clay fires as if it’s like white clay, but it’s very durable. It also has sand with limestone in it, which makes the clay different. I think I’m taking a lot from the things that I’ve seen in the village, things that I’ve seen created in a traditional way. I usually fire them with firewood, since I think it’s interesting to continue using just traditional methods.

ID: You recently unveiled a new collection of work. Tell us about the Ina Collection.

FK: I made my Ina Collection in 2024. It was inspired by lighthouses again, and I used actual bulbs inside the pieces, which I haven’t done before. Usually, I’ll just put candles, but I wanted to put actual lights in there this time. And hopefully in the future— I’m actually talking to some people now—I can do a nice interior design collaboration and have my own natural lights. Anyway, I wanted to create a collection that just told the story of light. Like how you have a light over your head, which helps you realize things and see things clearer. So I started working with mirrors as well and learning how to incorporate mirrors into the sculpture.

ID: Your work is often in blue; is there a symbolic gesture to using blue fervently?

FK: It started off as a conversation. I talked to my friend and mentioned how my dreams are in a certain color. They mentioned that their dreams weren’t in blue and that’s how I realized that I’m having different dreams. I felt more connected with that color because I would often have many blue dreams. So when I said I wanted to talk about it, I was like: Oh, this thing would be too weird. But I kept thinking about the color in my mind, and it just came out in my pieces since I couldn’t stop it. But you know what? I’m okay for it to come out in my work.

ID: What are you currently working on, and should we anticipate a solo exhibition this year?

FK: Right now, I’m completing my residency at Amah Studio, and in many ways, it’s become a form of a solo exhibition. It’s actually the largest body of work I’ve created so far. I didn’t plan for it to be that way, but as the work came together, it started to feel like a culmination of everything I’ve been building over the past few years.

This is my fifth year as a professional artist, so creating this piece at this moment especially during International Women’s Month feels really special. It’s a reflection of my journey and a tribute to the women who have always been at the heart of my practice. This residency and the body of work I’ve created here feel like a starting point for greater things to come.

Beyond that, I’m excited to explore more interior-based projects this year, work toward showing at an art fair, and dive into more animation as a  medium for storytelling. While I may not have a traditional solo exhibition lined up this year, I believe I’m building toward one—and I think next year might be the right time for that.

10 Questions With… Marc-Antoine Barrois and Antoine Bouillot

One enters the iconic, emphatically Art Deco-style Salone dei Tessuti in Milan’s Lazzaretto neighborhood only to find a mirrored cube occupying the double height space. An aperture demarcated by black ropes appears to conceal the entrance but actually leads into a much more extensive densification of these elements—an eventually pitch black ”forest.” One moves further and further into the seemingly endless abyss only to decipher the glimmer of slowly emerging light from far off in the distance. What eventually emerges is a circular clearing with a large Aldebaran star-inspired luminaire suspended above a field of carefully crafted Tuberose paper flowers infused with the fragrance—and encircled by rock-shaped marble settees. A multidirectional score plays along the perimeter. Everything is either rendered in black or white.

Barrois and Bouillot spoke to Interior Design about various aspects of this labor-of-love endeavor.

Explore This Installation By Marc-Antoine Barrois + Antoine Bouillot

Interior Design: How did your collaboration first come about?

Marc-Antoine Barrois: Having worked in fashion, scent-creation, and a number of other creative fields, I’m always interested in channeling the notions of elegance, timelessness, and nature’s inherent beauty; regardless of what form that might take. Antoine and I share that appreciation on a deeply emotional level. We both have a sensibility for the world of childhood and the sense of sublime discovery that comes with that stage of life.

Antoine Bouillot: Somehow, we don’t need to overly explain things to each other. There’s an inherent symbiosis in the approach we each take to many facets of our respective practices. I’ve designed a number of Marc-Antoine’s boutiques in Paris and London.

ID: Tell us more about the vision behind MISSION ALDEBARAN?

M-AB: I believe that scent is an experience, a story, and a journey. The ALDEBARAN installation and fragrance embodies optimism, inviting visitors to lose themselves in darkness only to rediscover the brilliance of light and fragrance.

AB: Every element created for this event was carefully conceived to capture and convey the profound emotions Marc-Antoine and I experienced with this perfume. Each part tells its own story. We live in challenging times and our idea was that these components could inspire a sense of sanguinity. The installation, especially in the context of an exhaustive Milan Design Week, offers visitors a chance to rest, contemplate, and regain a sense of wonder.

ID: Take us through the thinking behind the ALDEBARAN perfume.

M-AB: The Tuberose blooms at night and, in doing so, emits an especially strong aroma. On a deep emotional level for myself and hopefully others, this condition is indeed an expression of light and dark. ALDEBARAN is the first sole flower fragrance I’ve developed. It’s so potent and sensually captivating that when I close my eyes, it elicits a lot of imagery—what we ultimately evoked in the installation and other components of the project.

ID: How did you select the location? 

M-AB: The idea for the installation came first. About 10 months ago, we began looking throughout Milan for the right venue. Initially, we considered a very raw industrial space near Centrale Station, but then came upon Salone dei Tessuti that has a strong history that’s still evident. It also made sense with my background in textile as the building was once used as a warehouse for this city’s thriving fabric industry. The flow of the space from the main hall down a corridor with wood paneled antichambers was ideal for some of the additional programming we wanted to include: more intimate spaces for showcasing the furniture, drawings, and shop toward the exit.

ID: How were some of the other collaborators integral to this holistic staging?

AB: Of course we love working together, but we also like to bring in other experts that can add their own perspective to the overall concept. With the initial idea of having the star element hover over the field of flowers already in place, we needed an additional treatment to express the notion of hope and optimism. Consulting scientific researcher Aurélie Jean and astrophysicist Anthony Salsi, we learned that the Aldebaran Star has a strange rhythm in its celestial pattern, which we choose to translate in the frequency of the pulsating light. It’s not a heartbeat or malfunction.

It also just so happens that composer Thomas Roussel (noted for his work scoring fashion shows taking place in unconventional settings) is also a fan of astrophysics. It might seem like there isn’t sound in the space because the original music he created is so connected to the movement of the light that it feels intrinsic. Each element of the composition is divided among 12 individual speakers, surrounding the clearing. Both components are like celestial bodies colliding. It’s funny because we find people who end up having strong links as well. Noted philosopher Marie Robert provided insights into the enduring power of optimism.

ID: How are the stone and wooden platform benches another expression of the underlying concept?

AB: For this component—our first furniture collaboration—we drew inspiration from pebbles we found on Belle-ile, an island off the coast of Brittany. They much seems simple and arbitrary on first glance but really stem from that underlying idea of light and dark; the initiate experience of children looking for the perfect and smoothest example of this mundane yet fundamental part of nature. 

ID: What was the development behind this key element?

M-AB: We ended up choosing a few things, scanning them, and directly translating them in marble forms, which inherently take on the function of a seat. The wood underneath serves as an anchor.

The materials we choose to work with have intricate graining and imperfections, which render in extraordinary detail. When you cut into a block the size of a room to achieve this scale and shape—conducive to the human body—these idiosyncrasies reveal themselves. Nature is the truest of designers.

ID: How does this relate back to the installation?

AB: The experience of a child searching for pebbles is similar to what a visitor might experience going through the installation. For some, the process of going through the dark forest might be daunting, but once they reach the clearing, they can have a moment of calm after being shaken up a bit. This is essentially the process of discovery, a natural desire. 

ID: How does the book serve as a souvenir of the overall project?

M-AB: The book begins with numerous pages depicting this progression with black pages slowly featuring more and more white lines until they end up filling the page. Then, the narrative of the child in search of the stone and the Aldebaran store is played out, depicted in cartoon form.

ID: What are the next steps for MISSION ALDEBARAN?

M-AB: The installation could very well travel to other spaces and events like Art Basel Miami and enter into a completely different dialogue with the environment in question. The seats will be available for purchase at my boutiques and through STUDIOTWENTYSEVEN.

10 Questions With… Joaquín Millán Villamuelas Of OOIIO

How Joaquín Millán Villamuelas Tells Stories With Color

Interior Design: Tell us about your background as an architect. When did you become interested in the profession?

Joaquín Millán Villamuelas: I cannot tell you the story of a kid who was drawing constantly and looking forward to transform the world building amazing constructions. I am a passionate architect, but I never had an early calling to become one. I didn’t have any reference—a family or friend—near me to teach me what an architect does.

I was actually quite lost when I had to decide what to study at university. I grew up in a 10,000-person village in central Spain and the only thing I knew was that I wanted to study in Madrid. Maybe growing up in a centuries-old rural house, constantly under repairs and maintenance, helped me to make this great choice. Luckily, I wrote down architecture as a first choice on my application to the Polytechnic University of Madrid and my life changed forever. Once in school, I started to “unlearn” and rediscover the world with different eyes, and I got hooked on architecture!

ID: What was your path to starting OOIIO?

JMV: After university, I had the dream to learn from the best “architecture masters,” so I applied to Foster + Partners. I got a job there and moved to London for some years. After that, I decided to change and learn from Rem Koolhaas and worked in his studio, OMA, in Rotterdam. Those years were like a dream for me: I learned a lot not only from the two masters and their vision, but also from their largely different approaches. From my very talented colleagues to the organization of these two studios, every day was a masterclass during that time for me!

One day, while I was still working at OMA, during a trip back to my village for Christmas to visit family, one of my childhood friends asked me to design his house because he was planning to get married that year and was looking to build his family home. I ended up leaving OMA and moving back to Spain, exchanging the fancy “first class architecture” and those inspiring, amazing buildings designed for the Gulf Sheikhs, for a low-cost family house designed for a friend in the outskirts of a village in central Spain. My decision to leave a secure job in a large and motivating studio to start a new path towards the unknown was purely instinctual. That was the beginning of OOIIO, but I didn’t know it at that time. There was no plan. [It was simply]: Let’s do this house and see what happens.

ID: You founded OOIIO during the financial crisis. I know that has had an impact on the studio; can you tell us about that?

JMV: OOIIO’s first commission was around 2010—during the first years of the big economic crisis that deeply affected Southern Europe. In Spain, the construction market was demolished with hundreds of destroyed companies and no projects to build. Trying to establish an architecture company in such a time was madness; everything was pointing in the opposite direction that I was trying to move.

But, each small commission—renovations, house extensions, changing the roof of a warehouse, small apartments— was like a precious treasure to be looked after. It didn’t matter how inconsequential or unattractive the work was. I tried to give each project as much interest as possible through creativity, by looking for unexpected solutions.

Though some projects were stopped for economic reasons, which was frustrating, the objective for me was always to build. It was a lost battle if the project did not go ahead, which is why I fought and pushed hard for the success of each commission; I have learned a lot by getting my shoes dirty on site. I also had to be very precise about the budgets. If it was not affordable, or if I made any mistake calculating the budget, it was never going to be built. I learned how to achieve a lot with a little.

These principles that made OOIIO survive during those difficult years somehow remained engraved in the studio’s DNA and we continue to apply them today—even though the context has changed completely. In the past six years, we have been growing quite consistently from a small three to four-person micro company to the 10 to 15-person team that we have today, dealing with many more projects at one time and more complex projects. Again, a new challenge!

ID: What kind of projects does the studio work on today?

JMV: At the studio, we have designed a wide variety of projects like public spaces, horse riding arenas, offices, and even a dog hotel. This comes from that initial attitude of seeing every project as an opportunity. Our first commission was a family home, and since then, has been a project type on our work table. House after house, we became specialized in designing tailor-made homes for our clients. I like this typology because it is very emotional, plus you get close to the final user and can actually design having that person at the center of the project.

Currently, we have quite a few adaptive reuse projects. Working on rethinking what already exists to give it a new life is something I really like; these are beautiful projects. It is much more sustainable to reuse than to demolish and rebuild. At OOIIO, we work on projects in a holistic way, that is, not only the architecture, but we also do all the interior design, the landscaping of the gardens, we calculate all the installations, structures, we get the construction permits… everything.

ID: You describe OOIIO as a handmade architecture studio. What does that mean?

JMV: It means two things: One, that we make custom projects, like a tailor who studies your body and makes the perfect suit for you. And that we still work with our hands—we draw with pencil and paper, make physical models, and sketch in notebooks—like craftsmen, as it was done before, taking care and dedicating quality, human time to the processes. These are techniques are what we now call old—they are less and less used—but, I still believe in the quality that a human mind brings to a careful and artisanal process. For me, in that way, things taste better.

ID: The use of bold color is a through line running through OOIIO’s work. Why?

JMV: Yes, we do like to play with color in our projects. There are other constants that also appear repeatedly. For example, the importance of form, the richness in the use of materials and textures, and the poetic links with which we often draw inspiration from non-architectural things to design our buildings, opening paths to the creative process, such as making our building look like a rock [Villafranca House], or a windmill [Albania House], for example.

All of these are resources that we use in our projects, but we do it instinctively because it comes out that way. There was never a founding manifesto that defined the work philosophy of OOIIO in which we set some bases that would be repeated. If we use color, it is because the architecture instinctively asks us.

Nature is full of color, and colors are extremely powerful in defining a space. The same room looks radically different if it is red, white, or black. We are committed to personalization and daring in the use of color. Projects always gain in expressiveness and freshness with colors, together with textures and materials.

ID: OOIIO has defined itself by making a big impact in spaces despite size and budget. What are some of your top tools for making that work?

JMV: This brings us back to the beginnings of the studio in the middle of the great economic crisis of the 2010s, where if something was not designed affordably and within budget, it would not be built. Since then, this austerity has remained in the DNA of the studio. It is not necessary to spend a lot to achieve a lot. Architecture is not a question of budget, but of using the right resources intelligently to achieve the greatest possible impact.

This can be seen in many of our initial projects. For example, in a business incubator office project in Madridejos, Toledo: By using simple brick, we managed to create a ventilated façade that controls the building temperature, without the need to use energy, through building lattices.

Another example was in our transformation of a closed haberdashery into a home, where we crafted a small rectangular space of just under 600-square feet with a tight budget. Our solution for this space was to create, together with our carpenter, an “L” of cupboards that contained everything necessary to equip the small space as a contemporary home: kitchen, wardrobe, television, and storage for objects. Even the bathroom entrance is inside one of these cupboards. This “L” solves practically all the project functionality. Then, we added some engineered wood slats lacquered in gold, to open or close the bedroom to the rest of the space. As always, we played with colors and materials to give the space appeal and quality.

ID: To date, what are your favorite projects and why?

JMV: Over time, you look back and discover how there are projects that suddenly open a line of research within the studio. For example, we started using ceramics after working to reinterpret the local craftsmanship in the public spaces of Talavera [in Central Spain]. Now, we continue to apply in a very dominant way in projects such as TUR House.

Also, when there is chemistry with the clients—they trust you and let you work—good projects emerge. For example, in LLO House, the clients told us that we could do whatever we wanted, as long as their house was special. In the conversion of an old barn into a home, we also had a great rapport with the clients, and the project was able to take a step forward thanks to this. These are projects that are a pleasure to work on, in which you learn and open paths. Small obsessions, which then reappear in other designs without you realizing it, thus creating your own architectural world.

ID: What’s next?

JMV: We are currently designing several radical transformations of single-family homes. They are houses built in the ’70s and ’80s that new families have bought and want to personalize, revalue and adapt to their way of life. We are getting very surprising results; one never imagines at the beginning of the process what can happen when our work is finished.

In this line of adaptive reuse, we have several co-living projects in industrial buildings in the design-construction phase and, above all, a project to recycle an old kitchen factory into a parking lot, workshop and car dealership. It is a building about 100,000 square feet. It is opening a new scale of projects at OOIIO; until now, our projects had been always smaller and mostly residential. That said, we have also continued to design and work on small-scale projects for apartment renovations or new single-family homes, as we have always done at OOIIO.

What I see on our trajectory is that our projects are becoming more radical and complex year after year. I think it is a natural evolution for a studio like ours, which was formed from the construction site, building a lot of what we designed. We know more and more about construction and this team know-how is daring us to execute bigger and more difficult projects.

ID: What are some sources of inspiration that you turn to for your projects?

JMV: Inspiration comes from everywhere. As Pablo Picasso once said, “Inspiration exists, but it has to catch you working.” There are many things that, a priori, have nothing to do with architecture that end up inspiring you when designing a building. You learn from the design of an object you have in your hands. By analyzing it, you try to discover why it works and what decisions have led the manufacturer to make it that way and not another, and suddenly you discover yourself applying similar ideas when imagining a building.

I try to keep my eyes wide open so I can design better. I am very observant when it comes to analyzing the aesthetics and composition of things. When I watch a film, for example, I am struck by the composition of the photograph, the colors that the director has chosen, how each character appears at each moment, and their position in the scene. It’s a bit exhausting, but my mind works like that!

I am also aware of the architecture that other colleagues do. I read magazines, architectural essays, follow blogs, and go to exhibitions. Ultimately, I believe that to do contemporary architecture, one must understand the world in which one lives, and thus give a better response to the commissions that come to your studio. My reality will always be different from the reality of an architect in Kabul or San Francisco. The world is multifaceted, and these nuances make it much more interesting and rich.

10 Questions With… Benjamin Hubert

ID: Were you thinking it was too much about yourself as the product, taking your name off the door?

BH: For sure, but removing your name allows you to have an agenda that is broader and quite selfless. That’s important as a designer because there’s a place for personality, but there’s more of a place for passion that comes from individuals and a little more democracy. The team is the reason people choose to work with us. We have intentionally not scaled to a faceless, consultant suite. We’ve kept it to about 30 people so it’s remained personal.

ID: What was the first big project for Layer that expressed this broader agenda?

BH: The wheelchair we worked on with Nike was the epitome of the type of work we want to do. It’s in a category that is an extension of yourself: personal mobility. We thought of Braun and Dieter Rams, and I personally love that stoic nature of minimalism. Though it might feel cold and unapproachable, its sinuous, fluid nature of motion translates into performance attire pretty happily. We went for a radical aesthetic as a bit of a conversation starter.

I feel a sense of reassurance when there’s actually something to solve through design, where you could reason with the outcome and hold it to account. It brings me satisfaction when you can impact multiple areas of interface with somebody’s experience. The more challenging and complex a project is, the more opportunity there is to make it better. Also, the more responsibility you have, the more designers should push. I mean, the reason we set up divisions of all the work is because our most successful projects are the ones we look at from brand, digital, product launch, sustainability, and accessible price point—focusing on that ethos around it, that world-building.

ID: This extends beyond human users. What interests you in designing for pets, such as the Earth Rated range?

BH: Well, your user group can’t speak, right? Pet parents have lots of opinions, so you can glean loads of juicy insights through [talking to them] but then you’ve got to work out: What does the creature want and need? I’m a dog owner, and when I’m in the US and a see a green thing that’s hanging on somebody’s hip or in a dog’s mouth, nine times out of ten it’s something we designed—and that just brings me a great sense of pleasure, when you create a sustainable thing that is a mini status symbol for the person and brings the pet so much joy.

ID: How does that translate into the interiors and furniture work you do?

BH: We’re working on something around mobility, with crash testing and that type of thing, so there’s a very serious kind of due diligence and engineering that makes that project interesting. But something we do successfully is to have quite a breadth of projects, where we work on a real nice piece of furniture or a cool piece of technology all under one umbrella. A lot of agencies don’t do the warmer, softer work. But I just really love the human scale, the beautifully-crafted materials, the sense of long-lastiningness that is a core of the furniture category. It’s not always a direct translation, but a level of care and craftsmanship that can be cross-pollinated into how you treat a piece of metal or handle a piece of recyclable plastic—and that gives us a broader palate.

ID: What’s the palette for your exhibition design at Salone?

BH: It’s almost a physical representation of the book, but quite revealing. It makes you feel a little vulnerable. We’re creating a bunch of animations for six experimental prototypes with brands that challenge the way we live through the lens of craft, from fashion to furniture to object. Each one tackles a fundamental need, whether it’s sustenance, water collection, food, or community.  We thought about what was interesting but actionable, and then how we would solve them if we weren’t to use technology and electricity. And the way for that was through craft, with processes that could be around for thousands of years but as viable solutions that don’t overly rely on things like networks.

ID: Could you share an example of that?

BH: We’re working with Muuto on these oil burner lights that use algae. How do we find a sustainable, renewable fuel to bring light to the environment? And rather than go the solar route, we wanted to think about other fuel sources which are in absolute abundance. We’ve been researching algae, which is an amazing material, and then we started talking to people who create oil from it. You can use algae as a fuel source to burn, which many people don’t really know about.

ID: How will you present these works at Salone?

BH: The space will be amazing: 10 Corso Como was renovated a few months ago, and have these beautiful gallery spaces. We’re showing a serious collection of past works as beautiful, large-scale, translucent watercolors. As you go through the space, you will land on the new collection, presented cleanly and immediately, as each piece is expressive in its form and size. We’ve been working with an amazing animator to tell the stories of the product, but it’s incredibly clean as an exhibition because the space is beautiful in its own right.

ID: Speaking of the combination of digital and physical spaces, how are you and Layer thinking through AI?

BH: We use some generative visual tools for exploration because they’re quick and sort of hilarious, and we use a few video tools in more serious ways. We embrace new technologies in terms of process. But this new collection is definitely a sort of mini commentary on that, in that we are using material and craft that speaks to the maker, the hand, and things that are more humane. It’s kind of like: Don’t forget, we’ve been doing some things well for millennia and we should talk about those things again. The only solution isn’t necessarily the machine-made. I’m both fascinated by bleeding-edge tech and the oldest craft, and I think we need to remember that both those things are important.

ID: What’s next on the board for you?

BH: I’m increasingly interested in working on things that make a difference. What I would like to do is more community-based work, whether it’s with charities, NGOs, or not-for-profits—things where design isn’t just a desire, but a necessity. Some of the most difficult challenges are about how you actually get things on the ground and working, not just conceptually interesting or conversation pieces. Access to water, access to medicines, how you can transport from one place to another—these are all the mental needs to make somebody happier and healthier to make their lives work. Designers should have a responsibility to use their time towards that. I think design should be for the many. And I would like to think that in another 10 years’ time, the idea of democratic design and investment in the design of things that are more affordable and needed, will be more of our mandate.

10 Questions With… Rowena Gonzales

Rowena Gonzales Transforms Spaces Into Wellness Sanctuaries

Interior Design: What inspired your love for design?

Rowena Gonzales: My dad is a fixer-upper kind of guy. He worked as an electrician and could fix anything: a toaster, a computer, a desk—and I would help him. As a kid, I was passionate about creating my own environments for entertainment. I took cardboard boxes, cut out windows and made them my own. I also grew up doing a lot of art including exploring woodworking and sculpting. My parents encouraged my creativity; choosing a career in interior design made sense.

ID: What were your takeaways from Ryerson (now Toronto Metropolitan) University?

RG: With Asian parents, it was important for me to attend a university. Ryerson has the best interior design program in Canada. It was tough though. I learned how to connect with clients and to stand up for my design. The solution may be amazing, but it needs to be pitched and communicated. Paul Mezei, one of my instructors, focused on the ethics of design and taught that it was our responsibility to show clients a better way.

ID: How did you end up in Hong Kong?

RG: After I graduated in 2004, I was at HOK in Toronto and found myself working on the same plan over and over. I knew that I wanted to do something more creative. I also worked at Optima Design in Montreal. While there, I learned how to be a good boss who trusts and believes in the designers I work with.

By 2006, I was done with the cold! I had friends in Hong Kong and love its mountains and oceans. At that time, there was a huge expat community in the city and it was so easy to connect with people right away. I worked for a couple of years at HBA and CL3, but got laid off at the end of 2008 during the financial downturn. At the time, I was freelancing. If it wasn’t for that, I may not have had the guts to start my own studio.

ID: Why specialize in residential design?

RG: When I was at Ryerson, I never thought that I would design people’s homes because I didn’t want my work to be so personal. Compared to Canada, I found many renovations in Hong Kong to be toxic and people were not as interested in wellness—it was just about aesthetics. I was one of the pioneers in the city to emphasize sustainable projects, and did one of the first office projects using bamboo wood veneer and carpets made from recycled plastic bottoms.

My sister’s work with a naturopath inspired me. Homes should be places for rejuvenation, where people can charge their batteries to 100 percent. It is my goal to improve the health and wellbeing for my clients, and I found that residential design was the best avenue to do it. Homeowners understood that and were more willing to invest in their residences. When I set up Liquid, it wasn’t part of corporate culture or valued as much—but it is getting better now.

ID: Tell us more about Liquid’s recently completed home for an Indian family.

RG: It is a 6,000-square-foot residence meant for three generations. The family is in the jewelry business, and during the pandemic, the isolation took its toll on them. To encourage wellbeing and happiness, we incorporated many social and play areas that support multi-generational interactions. We imagined the space to be like a jewelry box, with Shanghai Art Deco details and pendant lamps that reference their heritage within the living area. It has a very hotel-like feel, while the bathrooms have a spa quality to them; they are mini sanctuaries for wellness. The home also includes a number of sustainable features including professional grade air purifiers, energy efficient VRV air conditioning systems, water efficient bathroom fixtures and eco-leather in wardrobes. There is a lot of natural daylight.

ID: You recently won an award for one of your residential projects?

RG: Yes, we won Gold in the Sustainable Residence category at the Home Journal Awards 2024. The residence was for a couple who recently became empty nesters. I love working with empty nesters because they can finally express who they really are through their space. Prior to our renovation, there were a lot of stairs in the home. We eliminated them as the couple was getting older, and we emphasized the connection to the surrounding greenery of the New Territories.

Marmorino, a natural mineral plaster, was used on the walls to help control humidity and purify the air. Other low VOC materials include palm eco-gypsum board in the ceiling to help with insulation, as it is better than regular gypsum board. We specified a sintered stone in the bathroom; it has fewer seams due to its large sheets and is non-porous and resistant to stains and bacteria, making it more hygienic. We moved the office from the back of the home to give it the best views with lots of natural light. Working from home during the pandemic was a seismic shift for residential design. We included an outdoor exercise area with lounge and bar so that our clients can enjoy a stronger connection with nature.

ID: How does BEAM Plus complement WELL and LEED practices for Liquid?

RG: All of these standards equate health with the environment we live in and are science-based. BEAM Plus Interiors– Residential is a label for greener homes that is not as complicated as WELL or BEAM. And it works well for Hong Kong because it looks at dense environments and sub-tropical climates—standards that are not addressed in the U.S. I am excited to be using this local system and am using it with contractors for more local involvement. My goal is to be a leader in sustainable practices for Hong Kong and create more awareness of it. I intend to reach out through schools and communities.

I want to emphasize that I couldn’t be where I am without my amazing Liquid Interiors family of designers, administrators, marketing experts, stylists and our CAD team in the Philippines. Everyone has a personal connection to wellness in design, which creates such a warm and inclusive atmosphere. I love working in Hong Kong and how it allows me to connect to my roots by employing wonderful talents in the Philippines.

ID: How did you get involved in the Women’s Entrepreneur Network?

RG: When I first started Liquid, I didn’t know any other women who started their own companies. There are a lot of groups for men that talk about business, but groups for women in Hong Kong tend to be more social where they mainly talk about their kids. Through the Women’s Entrepreneur Network, I found my community of businesswomen. We all help each other, talk about business challenges, and it provided mentorship for me early on.

I am on its board and recently hosted a two-day retreat in February at the Auberge Discovery Bay, where about 16 people attended. Everyone brought their business plan and we talked about how to elevate it. In the end, it got everyone thinking bigger. And it was a great getaway to be at that seaside resort hotel.

ID: What’s next for Liquid?

RG: We are working on the children’s playground, library and entertainment spaces for the Ladies Recreation Club in Hong Kong; we are pursuing LEED Silver for the project. As these types of jobs usually go to big firms, we are proud that they chose us.

We just started on a luxury home in the south of Hong Kong island. Our client is very spiritual and conducted a Roman Catholic blessing of the space. It brought a different sort of energy to the team. It is also for a multi-generational family, and they love gardening and connecting with nature. I love working with this client; they get how important health and wellness are, and are very into sustainability.

I hope to expand to Dubai, and to address the growing market for our aging population. My mom stays with me for a few months every year to escape Montreal winters, and it’s great having her for these extended visits. Seeing design through her eyes has been fascinating. It made me realize how important it is to maintain connections later in life, and I want to help older people prepare for aging in place.

ID: What are you up to outside the studio?

RG: I love being in nature and live next to a beach in Ma Wan, an island in the west of Hong Kong. I always run in the forest; it helps to ground me. In February, I ran my first mountain marathon in 12 years. My husband, Jeff, prefers to mountain bike but we hike as a family with our nine-year-old son Mateo and five-year-old daughter Mila. I recently started reading a book outlining the bugs of Hong Kong with my kids, and we head out on weekends to explore and search for them together.

10 Questions With… Emma Maclean

Emma Maclean Embodies Her Love Of Hong Kong In Her Hospitality Work

Interior Design: Where is home for you: Hong Kong or Sydney?

Emma Maclean: Hong Kong. Although both my parents are from Sydney and I spent nine years at school there, my bones are tied to the fabric of Hong Kong. I grew up with the flavors, sights, and sounds of the city. Sydney is beautiful and inspirational while Hong Kong has the energy that makes my heart smile. I love that my studio is in its historic core, tied to its life and movements. When I come back to Hong Kong after being away, it’s like being welcomed back with a big hug.

ID: What are your takeaways from growing up in a design household?

EM: We had many dinner table conversations about managing clients and finding solutions to design problems. My late father had a ferocious work ethic and an old school mentality. He taught me that it is not just about the design—we need to look after our clients because we provide a service.

I also learned the importance of communication. When dad first started working in Hong Kong, there were no interior designers—just architects and decorators. Hilton asked him to handle the construction of a new café in the hotel and he jumped at the chance. He learned Cantonese on site, as he worked with local contractors and understood that communication needed to be as quick and direct as possible to not delay the process. Dad always said that if you can design a hotel, you can design anything.

ID: Who were your other mentors?

EM: After design school, the global economic downturn made it challenging to find a job in Australia. I spent half a year in Rome on a language course, and then returned to Hong Kong in 2008. Oscar Llinas was my first boss at Bilkey Llinas Design. When I first showed the presentation boards I put together for a hotel project, he said wryly: “This is not how you seduce me, Emma. Do you run to your lover without any clothes on? You must take me on a design journey.” I turned purple with embarrassment! Showmanship and the art of presentation were lessons well learned.

My next job with Steve Leung Designers taught me the importance of diversification. Steve is always thinking outside the box and is a true businessman. He creates elegant spaces but also does so much more than design. I also loved working with Mathew Lui at HBA. He is really a designer’s designer, and I have never seen someone who could make a plan come to life so beautifully and with so much logic.

ID: You recently completed a residential project in Happy Valley?

EM: Yes, we converted a three-bedroom apartment in a heritage building into a two-bedroom one. It was for a couple from Sydney who loves entertaining. The space is open with tons of natural light. We created a little retreat for them with many details and a design that respected the location’s village vibe.  

The residence followed a series of spaces we designed for a private club in Hong Kong, including a café, wellness center, and common areas. It was very luxurious with rich tones and colors, dark flooring, and a traditional look that reflects the clientele. I love that some of our projects are tiny while others are design build and several thousand square feet in size. If we keep pivoting, we will never stagnate or run out of fresh ideas.

ID: What makes your design for the Hauser & Wirth gallery space special?  

EM: We worked with Hauser & Wirth gallery’s Hong Kong and London teams on a three-story space in Central, Hong Kong. The project was all about finding one-of-a-kind pieces. The desk from De La Espada was like origami with drawers that opened like a fan. We curated settings around particular works of art, and specified brands such as Cassina and Giorgetti. We worked with a master carpenter to make consoles in just four weeks. We included a meeting table with a copper base to encourage good feng shui. It was a happy project.

ID: And you recently upgraded a super yacht.

EM: Silentworld is a 2006 yacht and a renovation project with many technical details. We took it to a dry dock and everyone worked on it at the same time as the schedule was very tight. There were issues underneath the flooring, and we ended up having to replace it. There were many architectural elements that we kept though, including the dark wood trim, the circular detail above the dining area, and the staircase, where we added a lot more lighting to make it brighter. We also updated all the furniture and specified all outdoor pieces so they can be more flexible to use and easy to clean. The project was about addressing what could be changed while keeping an eye on the bottom line. Since a yacht is always in motion, we had to be clever in our construction approach to minimize warping.

ID: Tell me about some of your collaborations.

EM: As designers, we are always stronger together and can learn so much from each other. Collaborations expose us to clients and projects that we normally don’t encounter. That said, it started with my sister Caitlin. We were classmates in university and came back to Hong Kong at the same time. We had always helped one another, and we continue to work on projects together. I’m a big picture person; Caitlin is all about the details. We are good bookends because we feed into each other’s strengths.

Visual artist Elsa Jeandedieu also creates stunning murals and is such a pleasure to work with. She has become a good friend over the years. Architect J.J. Acuna and I collaborated on projects including Xiao Ting, the Cantonese restaurant in Four Seasons Hotel Macao. When we work together, it’s like a well oiled machine and we bring this collaborative spirit to our clients. 

ID: Why teach at Insight School of Interior Design?

EM: I have always believed that it is vital to mentor young designers. The profession is not just about us, but also the future of design. After all, someone gave me a chance. And I’ve employed people that I taught.

At Insight, I taught drawing and hospitality from 2016 to 2022 on a part time basis. Many young people think they draw up a plan and they are done. It is important for them to see the space is alive, with different scenarios for different times of the day and different uses. Every project has its own story.

Learning design is like learning another language and becoming fluent at it. Classes at Insight became a design family for its teachers and students. It was wonderful to share my years of experience with students, and it is rewarding to make a difference.

ID: Why is sketching important for you?

EM: Sketching is the beginning, and I do a lot of it by hand. Sketching is about conveying ideas and so much of our work is illustrative. It is important to be able to explain things to contractors on site with just a marker on a wall. A drawing is easier to read than text and can say so much. Technology can always fail.

ID: How do you recharge your batteries?

EM: I love being on water and grew up sailing in Sydney and Lantau island in Hong Kong. We are all keen sailors in my family, and are longtime members of the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club. There is nothing more refreshing than going for a run or hike in the hills of Hong Kong to clear my head. I am so lucky to have it all at my fingertips. I can finish work, run up to The Peak, and the city is at my feet. It is pure magic. I can’t do that anywhere else in the world.

I also love to see how community is everything in Hong Kong. Several generations often live together in the same household. I see elderly folks playing the flute to birds in the park or taking a grandchild to school. Everyone has a reason to get up and move here. It is so harmonious and wonderful to see how we are all gently knitted together.

10 Questions With… Faye Toogood

Faye Toogood Redefines Design With Avant-Garde Vision

Interior Design: You work in multiple fields including interior design, furniture design, fashion, and more. How do these separate disciplines cross-pollinate?

Faye Toogood: Working across different disciplines—interiors, fine art, furniture, fashion—feels natural to me, stemming from a desire to explore and express creativity in multiple forms. Without formal design education, I feel I have the freedom to bring unique ideas from one genre into another, fostering a cross-pollination of concepts that is both enriching and innovative. Each project at my studio, regardless of its nature, informs and inspires each other.

Within the studio, the team works side-by-side and there are naturally instances where ideas cross pollinate, whether it’s on color, form, or materials. We also encourage the team to dip into projects outside their skillset so we blend and share our skills. Often, an idea or a narrative will also influence the work for a period of time right across the studio—for example, “earth” inspired the material of a limited edition Roly-Poly chair, the colors of a Winter collection, and the textured pigment for a hand-painted coat.

Despite the varied contexts, a consistent thread runs through all our projects: meticulous attention to detail. Whether we’re crafting a piece of furniture, designing an interior, or creating a fashion collection, the process is rooted in a deep respect for craftsmanship and materiality.

ID: You are known for championing women’s representation, which was a focus of Maison&Objet this year. How does your visibility and work benefit other women in the design industry?

FT: When I was starting out, there were very few women in the design industry. While I’m happy to say that the situation today is much better, there still isn’t an equal balance of male and female designers. So many women work around the design industry—for example in curation, marketing—but we still need more to come to the forefront of design.

As a woman, I struggled at the start of my career. I thought I wouldn’t be taken seriously as a female designer, and I cut color, textiles, and decoration from my practice as I felt they were considered typically feminine.

Fortunately, the culture around design has shifted and I think the design space is more open and encouraging to women. I hope the visibility I have achieved, and perhaps also my unconventional path to design, will inspire other women to become designers.

ID: At Maison et Objet, your presentation was called “Womanifesto.” Can you unpack what you sought to achieve?

FT: “Womanifesto,” was very personal. It was an emptying out of my female artist’s and designer’s brain—an attempt to reveal the four parts of my subconscious that are the guiding principles of my work: DRAWING, SCULPTURE, MATERIAL AND LANDSCAPE. The installation was divided into four rooms to illustrate each of these themes and how they are integral to the studio’s work—both today and going forward.  

DRAWING has become more and more important to the studio, and I find myself eager to explore and use more pattern and color. SCULPTURE consists of geometry and form, which is a thread that connects everything we do. MATERIALS are the essence of Toogood and the starting point of all our projects. LANDSCAPE has always been an essential inspiration to me and I see its influence in my work as a way to connect humanity and nature.

ID: You’ve said that you like to let your mind wander and daydream, rather than using technology. How does that process inform your work and how does it eventually translate into physical designs?

FT: I don’t use a computer to design and I try my best to remove myself from outside influences and distractions, which is challenging in our visually noisy world. I like to take myself into almost a child-like state of play, to create as unconsciously as possible. I work in 3D with everyday materials—cardboard, wire, tape, canvas. I’ll work on shapes and geometry in miniature arriving at a series of maquettes, before we start building forms at full scale.

ID: How did working in magazine editorial help shape your views on design, fashion, and more?

FT: In my early twenties, I got a job at The World of Interiors Magazine and worked as the Interiors Editor for eight years. I was interested in reinvention and change, and this is exactly what I did—every month involved a new concept for an interior. What I liked about working at World of Interiors was that it wasn’t solely about interiors. It was where I learned about architecture, antiques, art, materials, and interiors. We covered everything from embroidery to a house in Africa to an archive of somebody’s spectacles. There was no hierarchy to objects or spaces—we might feature an 18th century teapot, a chair made from paper, a squat in London, or a Swedish palace. Everything was treated with the same reverence. It taught me to be experimental—working for a magazine, we had small budgets and I was often creating environments out of very little. I also learned the importance of connection to people and humanity, and that it wasn’t all about trends and fashion.

ID: When you formed your own brand, what was your manifesto?

FT: I wanted to find an expressive, energetic world full of creative freedom that focused on creating objects to make our lives less ordinary. I saw my practice as an agent for change. My curiosity and fascination has led to an interdisciplinary career—I enjoy working on the fringes of art, industry, and design.  

ID: Your Roly-Poly Chair is an undisputed icon. You said it helped you understand what a female designer is. Can you expand on that?

FT: Roly-Poly was a shift in geometry and aesthetic. It was designed when I was pregnant with my first child. Its friendly, playful, rounded shapes were a departure from the angles and hard lines of my earlier work. This shift reflected my journey into motherhood and seeing the world through the eyes of a child; everything had to be smooth and fall-off-able! Roly-Poly became the spearhead for a range of products and spaces with softer, more rounded forms.

Prior to this time, when I started out, I didn’t want to be put in the craft bracket, so I produced all this strong, angular furniture from heavyweight materials like bronze, mesh, steel, and concrete. I hate being pigeonholed. And since I was already an outsider—having not had an official design education—I could assert myself as someone who didn’t stick to prescribed notions of what a female artist or designer should be.

ID: You grew up without a TV in the English countryside. How did nature and your process of assembling and arranging natural materials inspire your work?

FT: So much of my work is inspired by the natural British landscape—the materials, forms, and colors. We didn’t have a television or many toys at home as children, so much of our time was spent outdoors. I used to love collecting natural objects—stones, feathers, leaves—and would find myself arranging them for hours on shelves in my room. This passion has continued, and I find the landscape a constant source of inspiration for form, colors and materials.

ID: I read that for your first collection you wanted to bring together—among other things—the masculine and the feminine. Can you discuss this dichotomy?

FT: I enjoy playing with narratives, dichotomies and polar opposites—be that the masculine and the feminine, the precious and the raw, the urban and the landscape, the natural and the manmade, and the soft and the hard. It allows me to create tension and narrative, which sometimes can be uncomfortable. I also think it is about me questioning value: a shift in values, a new value system.

ID: You once said, “I try to make people’s lives more beautiful, more interesting, more sculptural.” Please discuss how your approach to design accomplishes this.

FT: I feel my design work is less about solving functional problems and more about connecting with people. I believe that people want objects in their lives because they enjoy living with them or because they make them feel good, whether it’s a coat, a chair, or a mug. Good materials, sculptural form, craftsmanship, and elements of the landscape are my ingredients with which I create and with which I hope to resonate with people on an emotional level.

10 Questions With…Interior Designer Denisa Strmiskova

Denise Strmiskova: I started to pay more attention to interior design while I was studying scenography at the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague. While looking for inspiration for my university projects, I came across installations, product design, and furniture through projects in public spaces, which was my master’s thesis, and I began to be fascinated by all of it, including lighting. I also immersed myself in magazines from around the world and started going to European fairs and design weeks, such as Salone Del Mobile in Milan, where I understood how closely the fields of design and scenography are connected in the installations of world brands. After a few years, I worked as an assistant in an interior design studio in Prague, where I learned the practical side of the work. Then, a big chance came and I completed my first independent project, which turned out to be successful and helped me to establish my own studio.

ID: That was Long Story Short, correct? Your breakthrough project.

DS: Yes, my first independent project was the hostel and cafe Long Story Short in Olomouc, Czech Republic, which opened in 2017 in a former fortress from the 17th century. Together with the founder, we wanted to capture the historic details within the building’s 10,000 plus square feet, along with those details that were missing from our own experiences elsewhere; we both like to travel and follow the scene in terms of design and architecture, gastronomy, and the hotel industry.  At the same time, we wanted to create a space where the guests feel comfortable—a space that carries some aesthetic statement and is also maximally functional.

The concept of the hostel was created freely—I let my ideas flow along with the space itself. The use of high-quality materials such as wood, metal and concrete, and their combination with pastel colors, was essential for me. Personally, I like working with lines—drawing fine black lines through the space, custom-made furniture or in various details. Custom-made by local craftsmen, the 50s-70s furniture is mostly Czech, and you can come across a few exceptional pieces that you don’t often see. I combine them with modern elements and shapes, which is an approach that I enjoy and opens up a lot of interesting possibilities.

We also put a lot of time and care into the lighting. My goal was to incorporate the light into the space with absolute subtlety, but, at the same time, in a way that meets the functional requirements. The project was recognized in several important architectural competitions and attracted the attention of international media. Even years later, new clients who visit the hostel and restaurant contact me to say they like it.

ID: Can you say more about you background in scenography? How does it continue to influence your design work today?

DS: Scenography is about affecting all the senses, capturing the moment and emotions. My scenographic background gave me the opportunity to bring in a different perspective to projects. Based on the perception of space in the context of the story, it helps me visualize the atmosphere we want to achieve. It also gave me another way of perceiving the connections in space, which I have been working with since the beginning, when my work as a scenographer began to spill over into interior design.

ID: You describe your studio’s approach as a combination of the rational and the emotional. What does that look like in practice? At the end of the day, do you think one of those approaches defines you and your work more?

DS: For me, the work of an interior designer is an alchemy of both the rational and the emotional, and projects usually flow from one to the other, depending on which phase we are in. At the beginning of each project, a large dose of both principles is needed. We try to perceive all the needs that the client has and the function that the space should fulfill. At the same time, the emotional side is necessary to tune into the emotions that are often difficult for clients to describe, which their space should convey. Sometimes it can be colors, light, materials, or a specific theme.

At the end of the day, I would classify myself more on the emotional side. I like the first stages of the project, when—through empathy and mutual perception—my team and I gradually come to a visual solution for the client’s ideas. I enjoy this process, where everyone brings something to the final form of the project; we influence and direct each other.

ID: Many of your projects are set in Olomouc. What is your relationship to that city, and how does it influence your design?

DS: The historic city of Olomouc is my hometown. I spent 19 years of my life there before I went to university, and thanks to Long Story Short, I returned to the city more. I feel at home there, and it is great to be part of the positive transformation of the city in this way. Not long after completing Long Story Short, I received other opportunities in the city, including an invitation to collaborate with the local, award-winning architectural studio Atelier R. As an external interior designer, I designed the reconstruction and new extensions of the Red Church, which had been used as a book depository for the Olomouc Research Library since 1959, and is a cultural and educational space today.

ID: You have worked on a number of projects for Ambiente, one of Prague’s most well-known restaurant groups. How did that relationship start? What does that relationship look like today?

DS: I was approached to collaborate with the architect Tereza Froňková, who has worked for Ambiente for a long time and designed a number of their successful restaurant concepts. Working for Ambiente gives me the unique opportunity to create an interior space with the help of people from other fields in gastronomy. Everyone contributes their part and know-how; it is a very close collaboration and absolutely connected with design. In recent years, I have participated in both larger and smaller renovations of Ambiente restaurants including Pasta Fresca, Brasileiro, Cafe Savoy, Eska, and Čestr, and UM, the group’s training and education center. In some of these spaces, we are preparing another larger phase of reconstruction or a complete change to the interior, while in some restaurants, it is about ongoing care of the interior and minor functional changes.

Personally, I love cooking and gastronomy. It is my favorite way to spend my free time. I like to cook with my young son, host others and I often relax on the weekend with various cookbooks. So, being able to work with the teams of chefs and other people behind the excellent Ambiente restaurants is great for me. For example, working on the new interior for the workshop and training space for UM inspired me to sign up for their cooking courses this year.

ID: What would you say is the through line, or common thread, that runs through your work?

DS: I approach each project individually, and I wouldn’t say that I follow a certain style or use a characteristic procedure in my designs. I like working on historical building reconstructions that have their own atmosphere and patinas. And I enjoy introducing modern elements to them, which form an interesting relationship with the historical environment. This creates a specific tension and timelessness in the space, and that attracts me.

ID: This year marks 10 years since you founded your studio in 2015. How has the studio evolved?

DS: I learned literally everything in the process of creation and work—how to trust your intuition, imagination, and most importantly, be flexible and creative enough to solve the problems that implementation and construction can bring. In this field, anything can change at any time, and a designer must be ready to immediately offer alternatives. Being flexible and able to communicate new solutions with others calmly is, in my opinion, the most important ability, and the best thing to develop.

ID: What are you working on now?

DS: We currently have several projects in various stages of design. Last year, we prepared the redesign of the popular Prague bakery Antonínovo, and this summer, we will open their new space in an exceptional historical building in Prague’s Vinohrady district. At the same time, we are preparing new projects with Ambiente this year, as mentioned earlier. We also have several interesting private apartments in Prague, Brno, and Bratislava in the process. And in Olomouc, we are working with Atelier R on residential projects also related to gastronomy.

ID: What would be a dream project at this stage?

DS: I would love to work on reconstructing an old spa, or create a new place in the field of wellness and sauna with a strong atmosphere. At the same time, such an environment is about involving all the senses and smells—working with light, warmth, and a feeling of safety and deep relaxation.

Being around water is also relaxing for me, and a few years ago, I was captivated by the world of sailing. I passed my RYA (Royal Yachting Association) exams in Scotland, and I would like to devote more time to this. I can’t think of a better way to spend my vacation from the deck of a sailboat, for example in Greece. My dream come true would be to combine this sailing hobby with work and design the interior of a nice sailboat, while experiencing the process of building the entire boat.

So, my dream client would be someone enlightened in the field of wellness, or an enthusiastic sailor.

10 Questions With… NOMA President Bryan C. Lee, Jr.

Bryan C. Lee Jr. On The Importance of Community-Led Design

Interior Design: You’ve just begun your term as president of NOMA. What does this role mean to you?

Bryan C. Lee, Jr.: I started with NOMA in 2004 as a student, looking for a group or organization that would allow me to feel like my best self and have someone to look up to. It wasn’t until I was 16 that I saw a Black architect for the first time: Curtis Moody. It made me realize how important it is to have a group of people who can come together and support issues that are crucial not just to our general cause, but also to society as a whole. NOMA became that for me. To look back 20 years later and see how much this organization has grown since I joined—and the direction it’s taken—shows the collective growth we’ve experienced, both as a professional organization and as a people. It’s a tremendous opportunity to bring the knowledge I’ve gained over the years as an architect and organizer. I believe that prepares me for this moment, and our board as well. No one does this alone. This moment has already been challenging, but we were prepared for it, and we’re in a good spot.

ID: You introduced NOMA Engage as a new pillar to formalize advocacy and community engagement. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind its creation and the impact you envision it will have?

BL: NOMA Engage was a way for us to be more direct and forthright with the external organizations we want to be in community with. It’s about serving the communities we’re part of more directly and stepping out of the bubble of architecture to make sure we’re of service to a broader society. Engage is about taking us back to our roots to some extent. Early NOMA conferences included architects, mortgage brokers, developers, contractors, and civil rights organizations. There was already an earnest attempt at the beginning of this organization to be cross-organizational in its efforts. Engage is an attempt to bring that back to the forefront and make sure the work we do is attached to broader conversations around justice in the built environment.

ID: Can you share a formative memory or experience that first sparked your interest in architecture and design?

BL: One moment in my life that shaped me was when I was about seven years old, and my family moved to Sicily from Trenton, New Jersey. This was in the late ’80s, early ’90s. My mother was in the Air Force, and we were stationed there for about two and a half years. The juxtaposition of space and place between an American city on the East Coast and a historic, walkable city like Sicily, with its plazas and engaged social fabric, really struck me. It was a city that was adjacent to cornfields, more of a walking culture, and a culture that protected its elders. When I came back, I started drawing and asking my parents what that was. They said, “That’s being an architect.” And from that point forward, I just went with it. That was the origin point for me.

Another critical moment was when I was at Florida A&M University playing football. I became sick and had to make some decisions, so I transferred to Ohio State University. I went from a majority Black student body to a majority white student body, with exponentially more students. I found myself a bit lost, struggling to understand what I wanted to do. During my first year at Ohio State, I didn’t understand the value of architecture anymore. I didn’t understand why or who we were doing things for. And that’s when NOMA actually came into my life. A friend of mine, who was also transitioning from an HBCU to Ohio State, and I said, “Hey, we need more camaraderie. We need more community.” That was the origin point for us discovering NOMA. It was a huge moment for me, and it changed my life.

ID: Can you tell us more about your firm, Colloqate Design, and its approach as a multidisciplinary practice?

BL: We started Colloqate about eight years ago, in 2017. The first two years were kind of a wash. We were working on a single project, but it was during a fertile time in New Orleans…There was this impending momentum around social justice movements fighting for Black lives. At that moment, we were focused on the removal of racist monuments across the landscape of New Orleans. And we had this conversation about how to take things down, but we rarely got to the question of what comes next. “What do we do when we win this battle? What do we do on the other side of justice?” And so Colloqate was an answer to some of those questions. It was a way for us to think about cultural communal spaces and places that were truly in service of the communities that we serve.

Colloqate’s mission is still to challenge the privilege and power structures that use architecture and design as tools of oppression, and to reconfigure architecture and design as tools for justice, empathy, and care. Sometimes, that doesn’t look like what others in traditional practices would expect. It means more public spaces, more community involvement in the process—exponentially more community. That level of involvement can be challenging for some, but we’ve honed techniques and processes that allow other architecture firms to follow suit. One such initiative is our Community Design Organizer Program.

We have two different roles: Community Design Advocates and Community Design Organizers. These are people we hire from the community who are already organizing around their specific neighborhoods or communities. They become advocates for the community within the design process, joining the design team. Additionally, we might collect 15,000 to 20,000 comments over the course of a project, or more. We’ve developed a design justice framework that integrates this feedback directly into the architectural process, allowing us to track community commentary from schematic design to finished product. This documentation ensures that, for the longevity and history of the project, there’s always a record of the decisions made. In 20 years, if someone needs to change something or review the building, the as-built documentation will say, “This is what the community asked for. This is dear to their hearts. Don’t mess with this part.” If changes are necessary, look elsewhere. That’s the premise, and Colloqate has been working to forward this mission and these precedents to other architectural practices.

ID: How has your experience as founder and design principal at Colloqate influenced your vision for NOMA?

BL: I’ve always been both the biggest advocate for NOMA and, at times, a thorn in its side. I’ve always wanted us to be more vocal and more connected to larger conversations around justice. But early on, I had this comment that I always went back to: architecture feels like it is too big to deal with the small, nuanced conversations and too small to deal with the large societal conversations.

We found ourselves a nice little niche where we don’t owe anybody anything outside of the artistry of what we do. That’s comforting, as we don’t have influence over either of those spaces—but we do. As an organization, as architects, that’s what we attempt to do: to be vocal on the ground level in communities while also taking a stance on larger scale issues, whether that’s abolition, affordable housing, or accessible public spaces. All of this ties back into NOMA, because it allows us to change the playing field.

As a leader in this organization, my core belief is that if we want to grow—not just the organization, but also its footprint and impact—we have to change the playing field we’re playing on. We have to ensure that procurement is changed and that the requests from community members are adhered to in various places. When we create those documents and templates, and make sure that as we change the playing field, we open up opportunities for small firms, minority firms, or underrepresented firms to grow, to make more direct impacts on their communities, and to succeed in ways that, historically, those opportunities have been taken away from us. That’s the opportunity. There’s no other way to approach it for me. It has to be about changing the playing field.

ID: What have been the biggest lessons from the success of NOMA’s Project Pipeline program, and how do you envision its future?

BL: Project Pipeline is near and dear to my heart. I took it over in 2014 after running it locally in New Orleans. The greatest success was, as I mentioned earlier, our ability to be in community—on the ground level, talking to community members and their parents. That was the conversation that needed to happen, and Project Pipeline was a facilitation for that. One thing I’ve learned since is that whatever activity or event you are involved in, you’re just a conduit for better conversations. Better conversations lead to better spaces, places, and buildings. And that’s what Project Pipeline did.

I used to start Project Pipeline as a cheerleader, and we would talk about the fact that most of you will not become architects. Most of you will go on to live incredible lives doing many other things, but somewhere in the back of your head, you’ll have a conscious understanding of the impact of the space you’re in. Some of you will become architects, and you’ll have those connections to buildings that are impacting people—not just building for building’s sake. I see so much of what we started with Project Pipeline influencing the conversation around design justice in 2014. That trajectory within the profession didn’t exist before then, at least not as a codified concept. People had been doing it for decades, but now there are design justice initiatives at different universities. Project Pipeline fed all of that, and to this day, it shapes how we view co-location. It’s touched every part of my work because it’s the foundation for so much of what we do. We’ve taught nearly 20,000 students now, and that’s mind-boggling to me. Over a decade, that’s a remarkable feat, but there’s more to do.

ID: The Whitney M. Young Jr. Award recognizes your commitment to social responsibility in architecture. How has this honor shaped your goals as NOMA President?

BL: I remember sitting at the ceremony in 2013 when Harvey Gantt was receiving the Whitney M. Young Award. It was only my third or fourth year attending the AIA Awards, and I wasn’t getting up early enough to see the ceremony. But when I saw Harvey Gantt, I thought, “Okay, that’s interesting.” This man was a politician who worked in communities, was an architect, and had all of those credentials. I thought, “That feels familiar. It feels like something I want to aim for.” While I wasn’t necessarily thinking of the Whitney M. Young Award as my goal, I wanted to do work that was impactful—work that mattered to young people, community members, and elders. I think the Whitney M. Young Award provides more visibility for that work, and the hope is that it creates a space and opportunity to talk more thoroughly about some of the justice orientations I have. It also gives me fellowship within an institution where I’ve had my own set of challenges, but ultimately, I think I need to be invested in that space because it is where power gets shaped. It opens doors in ways that they weren’t open before. As an organizer, you use any tool you have to press for change where you can, and I’ll use it.

ID: How do you envision expanding NOMA’s partnerships with equity-focused organizations to further support underrepresented communities in architecture and design?

BL: NOMA’s four pillars—educate, empower, elevate, and engage—guide our efforts. One thing NOMA wants to do more clearly is articulate the brilliance in the architecture that our members create. Elevate will help us do that. I’d also like to engage in more direct communication and conversations with people. That could involve producing more videos and audio content so people can see, hear, and connect with each other more deeply. We also need to publish in ways we haven’t before—perhaps expanding our magazine to offer a more thorough exploration of the architectural theses our members are developing. It could also mean that we’re more actively in news cycles and we’re trying to be more connected to the communities that we’re serving. Local chapters should have access to platforms and templates that make communications easier, which is key.

ID: Looking ahead, what advice do you have for emerging architects who want to use design as a tool for activism and social change?

BL: First, understand activism and organizing outside of architecture proper, and then identify where the opportunities exist at your level to poke and prod a system. Ultimately, young folks or emerging professionals who can create templates and easy pathways for justice within a practice are in the best position to drive change. Most of our field—most of the organizations and entities we interact with—already rely on templates for everything. We simplify details and documentation as much as possible. If you can do the same for justice-driven initiatives in a way that doesn’t add cumbersome considerations for your firm, you create more opportunities. Tools like the Design Justice Index from Design as Protest (DAP) can help you track your progress and identify areas for improvement.

ID: Building on that, you co-founded the Design As Protest Collective and Dark Matter University to amplify marginalized voices in the built environment. Can you share more about these initiatives?

BL: Design as Protest came out of NOMA in 2015 during a conference in New Orleans. At the time, we were dealing with the removal of racist monuments, so we brought together a series of organizers, activists, and NOMA members who worked directly with individual organizers at a table, designing spatial resolutions to the issues they were facing. That gathering built momentum. In 2017, we organized a National Day of Action, where nearly 600 people across the country came together to design with a direct cause in mind—challenging some of the policies we anticipated under the first Trump presidency. Cut to 2020, we launched the Design as Protest Collective, a coalition that initially had around 250 members and now remains 50 to 60 strong. The organization allows us to explore the most radical possibilities of architecture while providing tools and opportunities for people to challenge systems with the backing of supportive organizations. That work has been as critical to my life as NOMA and Colloqate. Similarly, Dark Matter University emerged from the conversations sparked by DAP, focusing on those same justice-driven issues within academia. It challenges architectural pedagogy and ensures design justice principles are embedded in education.