The silhouette is instantly familiar. The curved lines, functional simplicity and pale wild birch could only belong to a quiet Finnish design classic: Artek’s ‘Stool 60’.

Yet this version has a soft twist. Wrapping its circular seat and dressing its feet in ‘shoes’ is the time-textured presence of another material: natural vegetable-tanned leather.

Artek has unveiled its debut collection with Hender Scheme, a Tokyo-based leather brand, with a series of eight products blending the Finnish furniture company’s modernist design with contemporary Japanese craftsmanship.

A dialogue between two raw materials that slowly patinate with time – Finnish wild birch and vegetable-tanned leather – lies at the heart of the new Artek + Hender Scheme collection, which will be exhibited at London Design Festival 2026 ahead of its global launch on 10 October.

The collection includes the circular tops of classic Artek stools and tables wrapped in vegetable-tanned leather, a material also used to shape furniture ‘shoes’ for Alvar Aalto’s classic L-legs – compact containers to pop onto the bases of legs of tables and stools, to prevent scratches and soften acoustics.

The ‘A330 Golden Bell’ pendant light, a sculptural and reflective 1953 design classic, has also been cocooned in layers of natural leather using 3D-printed moulds; while the fluidly organic ‘Riihitie’ ceramic plant pots created by Aino Aalto in 1937 inspired a new series of accessories, including leather coasters, a key holder and a clock.

Time – and the shifting beauty of the raw materials – is an elemental theme, according to Ryo Kashiwazaki, founder of Hender Scheme. With birch and leather ageing at different tempos, the ‘finished’ products are just the beginning – as a continuum of colours, textures and atmospheres is shaped by owners’ daily lives, memories and experiences.

It was in 2010 that Kashiwazaki set up Hender Scheme – its name inspired by the idea of gender-less products – in Asakusa, a low-key district in east Tokyo long known for its artisanal shoemaking heritage. Today, the name is synonymous with a clean-lined minimalism and material purity, as embodied by Hender Scheme’s crafted shoes and modern accessories, ranging from bags to furniture.

Its heartbeat is Sukima, a creative space in an industral-edged concrete building housing a gallery on a quiet street in Kuramae, east Tokyo, which stages contemporary art exhibitions. Here, Kashiwazaki spoke to Wallpaper* on the eve of the Artek + Hender Scheme collection launch – about shoes for stools, his passion for Artek, the spaces in-between and his quest for freedom.

Wallpaper*: What philosophy shapes Hender Scheme?
Ryo Kashiwazaki: Timeline. We focus on the timeline of products. Our philosophy is that our products are not finished at the point of sale – they are completed by the user, through the process of ageing and daily use. This is our manifesto. We work mainly with leather, which is a good material to express this concept. With natural tan leather, you can see all the changes with the passing of time and usage.

W*: Tell me about vegetable-tanned leather?
RK: When we started the brand, I just liked it. Then I realised it was a really good material to communicate our philosophy. I wanted to express a timeline through our products and brands so it became our main material. We are half-design industry, half-fashion industry, so we wanted to balance the timeline and make something not too fast but something new.

W*: It’s a sensitive balance.
RK: Yes – we call this balance sukima – the space in-between. We try to be in-between. We are in-between fashion and craft and technology.

W*: Hender Scheme designs are often very clean and minimalist. What inspires this?
RK: If I’m honest, we just naturally do what we want to do. There is no specific design strategy – we are very small. But the most important thing for us is to be very independent and very free. Freedom is the most important thing for me.

W*: What was the seed for the Artek collaboration?
RK: I’m a big fan of Aalto and Artek. I travelled to Finland around 15 years ago on my honeymoon with my wife. Of course I visited Aalto’s studio. I also owned a few Aalto and Artek products. We often do studies in our studio, to practise our leather techniques and our design – and we did one study, making ‘Uten.Silo’ [the 1969 plastic, wall-mounted storage system by Dorothee Becker, currently produced by Vitra] in natural leather. It was just a study for the studio, not for sale. But my good friend was impressed – and he took a picture and showed it to Vitra and Artek. That led to the start of the conversation about four or five years ago.

W*: How did the project unfold?
RK: At that point, it was not about collaborations. The starting point was just making conversation and trying to get to know each other. It was very natural. Then Artek’s managing director visited us and was also surprised to see this. We slowly started talking about what we could do together. We found we already have a very close philosophy.

W*: Where do you feel Hender Scheme overlaps with Artek
RK: I think it is about timeline. We like to respect natural materials. It is a little different in terms of shoes and leather, and wood and furniture, but I think it’s all moving in the same direction: the idea of respecting timelines and the ageing process. Industrial production involves trying to make exactly the same thing – but I feel that we are doing the opposite. We like elements that are unique and different.

W*: Can you tell more about the physical qualities of vegetable-tanned leather?
RK: It’s not coated, so it’s really pure, raw leather. Its surface naturally oxidies with time. Even if it’s not exposed to sunlight, it slowly ages. Firstly, the colour changes and deepens. Then it becomes marked or scratched, with its usage showing on the surface. So when you look at it, you can feel what happened in your life at different moments in time. The user’s memories can be remembered through the material as it ages. This works particularly well with furniture, as it has a long life.

W*: Tell me about the process of bringing this project to life.
RK: It took almost five years. It was quite a difficult balance. We wanted to respect Artek’s outlines and forms and tried not to do too much. There were so many different possible approaches. My friend Daisuke Motogi had already done the ‘Hackability of the Stool’ project [repurposing ‘Stool 60’ into more than 100 other objects, from a flower pot to a turntable, in 2023], so I couldn’t use that approach [laughs]. We did a lot of studies. We did mock-ups for bags. We thought about skateboards. But eventually, because our core process is shoemaking, we found that stools can also wear shoes. That’s when we found our concept. It’s not just about how this looks – it’s really functional. You can avoid scratches on the floor and also soften the noise.

W*: Can you tell me about the ‘Golden Bell’ pendant light?
RK: We’ve never made lighting before, apart from one table light with a New York retailer a long time ago. This time, we wanted to approach something new and we were drawn to this pendant light. Over the past five years, we’ve developed a 3D printer in our studio – and our techniques for making moulds are getting better and better. So I thought we could create a 3D object – which is how we made the lamp.

W*: What drew you to this light?
RK: I felt it was really beautiful. And from a technical point of view, I thought it could be made of leather. This pendant light has many different versions, mainly using a single piece. But in the archive, we found a separate version in several pieces. This one has three pieces. We made the top parts in 3D-printed leather – and kept the bottom part in brass, like in the original model, so light can shine through it. It was very difficult to make – it took almost three years.

W*: How about the accessories?
RK: These are inspired by Aino Aalto’s early planters. She made three different shapes. We wanted to take the shape and do something different with it. So we made a mock-up for these shapes and chose this one. It is a beautiful match with the material. We made these objects by dipping the leather into water and making a mould using a 3D printer. The leather is placed between two mould parts, with pressure applied. It takes about two or three days to dry.

W*: Can you remember the first moment you were drawn to Artek?
RK: When I was a student, I had a few friends who were into architecture and they had Artek stools, maybe a chair. That was my first discovery. Then after, I saw a lot of Aalto stools in Comme des Garçons. I’m very drawn to Aalto’s work. I think it is the balance. If you have an Artek stool in your home, you can feel its presence, but it’s not too much.

W*: And now we’re sitting in east Tokyo, which seems to be in the DNA of Hender Scheme.
RK: We’re on the east side of Tokyo. Asakusa nearby was historically a shoemaking neighbourhood. When I started making shoes here, there were no cafes or stores around. We call it shitamachi – or downtown. It’s very local and people are very connected here. Now it’s getting more popular among younger generations, as central rents increase.

W*: What is the shoemaking industry like here today?
RK: There are still many workshops around us and we still collaborate with many people – there is still an ecosystem here. But it is decreasing as people get older. We’ve also started in-house making now.

W*: Tell me about Sukima, where we are now. The concept seems to go far beyond shoes?

RK: Sukima is a gallery – an alternative space that aims to give opportunities to artists – as well as a showroom and office. The gallery has an exchange system. We don’t take commission for sales – but we ask [each artist] to give us one artwork. It is a really new concept and it works very well. We do four or five exhibitions a year. This piece on the wall behind me is by Kohei Yamada, a very popular young artist. When you avoid money exchange, you become very, very free. Our communication has completely changed as we don’t need to talk about money. I receive a lot of inspiration through this project.

W*: What were the biggest lessons of this creative journey
RK: When I’m designing products for Hender Scheme, I have the answer from the beginning. Then I work towards that idea. With my own collection, everything is inside out – I’m always judging myself. But with this project, it was a totally different approach. There was a lot of information, a lot of people. Especially this time, I really didn’t want to say, ‘Hey, we are Hender Scheme!’ I wanted to find a nice balance between the product and concept and attitude.

W*: And what’s your ultimate hope with this collection?
RK: To [put it simply], I wanted to show shoes for stools as a new product. Because I think no one has thought to put shoes on stools. Also, if I find these products in a 2nd Cycle store in Finland in the future, that would be great. But mainly? I hope people have fun with these projects. Just enjoy.

Artek + Hender Scheme collection will be exhibited at London Design Festival 2026, and will be released globally on 10 October 2026

‘Everywhere I go I see pattern. In the brick buildings of London, in the knit of the jumper I’m wearing, even in the branches of the trees,’ says British designer Tom Dixon, whose previous glassware designs include pieces inspired by the bold geometric silhouette of a game puck and the functional volumes of scientific lab equipment.

For his first collaboration with Nude, the contemporary outshoot of leading glassware producer Şişecam, Dixon observed the patterns made by water, both on the table and outdoors. A signature ripple detail can be found at the base of each piece in the collection, adding a tactile simplicity to its wine, cocktail, highball and lowball glasses.

Combining Dixon’s distinctive visual language and Nude’s contemporary glassmaking expertise, the ripple detail also reflects Dixon’s ongoing exploration of concentric forms, which have appeared on creations ranging from the ‘Press’ collection of lighting and accessories – ‘very much an extension of this thinking, but this time in immensely heavy pressed glass’ – to the art-deco curved ridges of the ‘Groove’ outdoor chair.

‘I have a tendency to get a specific obsession, sometimes in shape, sometimes in materiality, and I originally started looking at this “grooving” or corrugation when I was trying to make the outdoor chair,’ says Dixon. ‘It’s an industrial pattern, and I like the way that it is so universal – when we started looking at glass we loved the way that by having these undulations you get a series of circular lenses that refract and reflect light and give you the impression of the movement of water.’

Both functional and expressive, the expanding glass circles celebrate the joy of pouring a drink, capturing the movement of liquid through the vessel and the quiet pleasure of the final sip. ‘The concentric rings that occur when the last drop of wine is poured, when a raindrop hits a puddle and a series of concentric rings emanate from the centre – they are in fact the perfect structural and decorative device for a wine glass,’ he says.

The ripple also beautifully mirrors the glassblowing process itself. ‘It is not just a celebration of the water, the cocktails and the wine that will inhabit the glassware, but also an acknowledgement of the liquid state of glass during the manufacturing process, during which the molten glass flows, pours and ripples in a way that is reflected in the transition from stem to base,’ says Dixon.

Dixon might be known for his early welded metal creations, but he relished the chance to explore a different material for this new collaboration. The glassblowing process is ‘so much fun, and so much danger... so much heat and such quick decision making – it really is the opposite of metal in the way that you work it, but I loved the brand new challenge’, he says, having tried it for himself at a recent glassblowing residency at Soneva in the Maldives.

Achieving the exceptionally thin, delicate proportions of the machine-made ‘Splash’ collection required significant technical know-how, resulting in a finish remarkably close to handcrafted glass. ‘The ripple effect was particularly challenging: creating a bold texture on the base while maintaining the collection’s lightness and refined proportions required close collaboration between design and production,’ say the team at Nude.

‘With this project, we wanted to capture the subtle beauty of drinking – the way liquid moves, settles, and disappears,’ they say. ‘Beyond the pieces themselves, the collection was designed to create a more sensory and experiential way of drinking, elevating everyday moments through design.’

So, what to serve in these beautifully made glasses? Well, Dixon suggests something fizzy to celebrate: ‘I’m childishly partial to anything with bubbles in it, so give me champagne, give me Kombucha or hand me the simplest gin and tonic – but not all at the same time.’

The ‘Splash’ collection will be available worldwide at Nude Glass and Tom Dixon from 7 September

LABottega has stood on Viale Apua in the Tuscan town of Pietrasanta since 1920, when art director and curator Serena del Soldato’s great-grandparents opened it as a shop on a bare stretch of the Versilia coast, adding a trattoria under the plane trees and an inn for travellers. The family remade the place in 2011, and it now runs as a restaurant, rooms and a gallery. Del Soldato owns and directs it, and has curated its exhibitions ever since.

Above the town, at Strettoia, del Soldato also runs an organic farm, called La Stellata. It’s home to geese, peacocks and goats, a kitchen garden, and some 300 quercetano olive trees, a variety safeguarded by a Slow Food presidium, across a hectare of hillside. Designers and artists are invited to the farm each year to make work inspired by the location; the pieces are built with artisans in Pietrasanta, and what they make stays, first shown in the gallery and then used to furnish the guest rooms.

Federica Elmo’s ‘Naturamagica’, from 2022, for example, saw the designer work dried acanthus branches into a bedside table, and build another table inspired by the lemons from the grove, with raw terracotta set against powder-coated metal. Her table is still in LABottega’s shared kitchen.

Outsiders residency at La Stellata in Tuscany, by Tableau and LABottega

Outsiders is the location’s latest initiative, conceived with Tableau, the Copenhagen studio and gallery founded by Julius Værnes Iversen in 2018; a floral designer by training, his practice runs from flowers to spatial design, objects and curation.

‘Outsiders grew from a shared belief that the most meaningful creative work happens when it’s rooted in a place rather than simply presented in one. Tableau brings the curatorial framework and invites artists into a dialogue with Pietrasanta’s extraordinary material culture, while Serena [del Soldato] opens the doors to a community that can’t be replicated,’ Iversen says. ‘It’s a project built on trust – fittingly, I was the very first guest at LABottega, long before we imagined creating something like this together.’

‘For me, Outsiders is about making people feel that they belong here,’ says del Soldato. ‘Pietrasanta has an incredible network of artisans, growers, neighbours and makers, and my role is to connect artists with that living community. Julius brings a fresh curatorial perspective from Copenhagen; I bring the local relationships and everyday knowledge of this place. Together we’ve created a residency where hospitality becomes part of the creative process.’

Creatives taking part in the residency work with local waste material. The first of resident, Willem van Hooff, showed an exhibition titled ‘I’m Alone With My Thoughts’ at LABottega throughout July 2026. It featured handmade ceramic vessels, each cut with a line of his own handwriting, sharing private thoughts noted during his residency, such as ‘It’s Been Good, I’ll Cry Too, I See You, Last’.

A second Outsiders residency followed at LABottega, yielding ‘Pietra Counter’, by Berlin studio Yont. It’s a modular listening bar built from marble tile offcuts supplied by Bloc Studios, the tiles lifted from the floor of its founder Sara Ferron Cima’s grandparents’ house.

Currently in residency are Jacob Egeberg and Laurids Gallée, both at work on marble discarded by the quarries above the town. Egeberg is setting thin, reflective surfaces on rough offcuts; Gallée is turning large reclaimed slabs into tabletops, steadied on smaller milled blocks that keep the stone’s irregularity in view.

Vestigia 2026

Egeberg is also showing work at Vestigia 2026 – the latest edition of the design platform, running at Villa Marie in Vorno near Lucca, until 26 September 2026 – where his work ‘Erratic’, a two-sided mirror in stainless steel whose fluid form is interrupted by two rock-like pieces of anodised aluminium, floats above a run of lavender.

The show's location is an 18th-century estate that its owners, Marleen and Luc Van Marcke, spent seven years restoring. Titled ‘Don’t Call Me Collectible!’ and curated by Cosimo Bonciani (founder of the Florence practice Bunker Studio and himself one of the exhibitors), this year’s Vestigia places work throughout the villa’s cultivated gardens, in a Lucchese landscape made muse by those like artist John Singer Sargent, who painted the nearby gardens of Villa di Marlia in watercolour in 1910.

Here, the lake, clipped shade, stone and late Tuscan glare give the pieces a grammar to answer to. Vestigia’s founder, Jonathan Bocca, shows ‘Silenti’, made with lighting specialist Ombre-1; anthropomorphic forms in Geolite, a mineral-based material, are lit from within, inviting visitors to walk beneath.

In a deliberate provocation, Bonciani frames the show against ‘collectible design’, the market category that has attached itself to work sitting between art and craft. His case, which draws from design historian Glenn Adamson, is that such labels exist mainly to sort and sell whatever escapes industrial production; the objects themselves belong to something older and less tidy, that is, studio craft and field research. Bonciani takes licence from Carlo Mollino’s line, ‘Everything is permitted, provided it is fantastic!’, to move across design, craft, sculpture and material research without tidying them into a market category.

‘The protagonist here is nature; we are secondary,’ says designer Costantino Gucci of his work ‘Altera’, a mirrored monolith that emerges from the villa’s lake. A slender oval split into two angled planes, it reflects the water and trees around it, so that whoever stands in front of it finds the surroundings looking back at them, and the sculpture all but dissolves into them.

A fragment of Breccia Medicea, the historic Apuan stone that carries the Medici name, anchors ‘Rudis’, the first work that Francesco Maria Messina has made with Acquasanta Edizioni. Its surface is left much as the stone was found, and reclaimed steel blades run through it, the spent tools of the stone-cutting itself, carrying the horizontal planes of a shelf.

Nèemĕsi’s ‘11.07 Violet’, meanwhile, takes a derelict slab of travertine, its broken edges left as they are, lacquers it in high-gloss violet and stands it on a hand-curved metal base. The studio’s piece is presented here by Movimento, the Milan gallery representing several designers at Vestigia this year, also including Tipstudio.

Tableau is also showing at Vestigia 2026, with Bloc Studios, the Carrara marble studio co-founded by Sara Ferron Cima in 2014. Together they present ‘Isole’, a cluster of vessels in veined marble and translucent onyx designed by Iversen with Elsa De Mori, each carved into an organic form, as if shaped by water and erosion.

At Villa Marie’s entrance, Iversen’s ‘Mikado Bamboo’ hangs white limonium from a bamboo gate, the flowers cut in Pietrasanta. By the pool sits the bronze ‘B-fora’ (a play on ‘amphora’) by IAMMI, the studio of Nicolau dos Santos and Stephanie Blanchard. The curve of a buttock is worked into the piece's feminine body, the metal oxidised with acid to a shifting, gold-toned patina, which Blanchard describes as melting into its surroundings.

Pietrasanta and Vorno make a Tuscan double bill, two projects and one line of research. The category they push against is older than it sounds: furniture collected as art goes back to the ‘art furniture’ of 1870s England, made to blur the line the Royal Academy kept between the fine and the decorative, and to furnish the houses of connoisseurs. What Outsiders does at La Stellata and what Vestigia does in the gardens at Villa Marie is to turn the focus back towards the workshop and the quarry, with objects that are valued for how they came to be and for what they were before. Whatever you call it, ‘collectible’ is the least of it.

UK housing estates and Brutalist tower blocks such as the Barbican and Trellick Tower have long divided opinion among onlookers – what is a modernist masterpiece to one person is an eyesore to another. But of course, for many whose opinions are not so often heard, they are simply a home – a backdrop to daily life. For Shawn Adams and his fellow members of POoR Collective (Power Out of Restriction), some of whom grew up on housing estates, these buildings are a source of inspiration – one the studio has channelled into a joyful new rug for British brand Floor Story.

Realised in two contrasting colourways of New Zealand wool, the flatwoven design, named 'Power', is informed by the rigorous geometry found in the plans and sections of London tower blocks. In the pattern, these vertical and horizontal elements are abstracted, hinting at the outline of a deck-access walkway or a circular column borrowed from the Barbican.

The goal, Adams says, was to translate these spatial, three-dimensional concepts into a two-dimensional medium while maintaining an optimistic aesthetic rather than creating an austere or literal architectural plan.

'It's about finding the beauty in something everyday that might ordinarily be overlooked,' says Adams, who, born and raised in south-west London, runs POoR Collective alongside Matt Harvey-Agyemang, Ben Spry, Akmaral Khassen and Larry Botchway. 'We asked, "If we were to take the stories of an estate and try and make it into a rug, what would that look like?"'

He likens the resulting designs to a palimpsest – a visual translation of the layered lives and histories of residents who live within architecture that is so frequently fetishised or derided, and who are often talked about but rarely listened to.

For POoR, which primarily works on architectural projects focused on community development and platforming young people, designing a rug was a new but natural extension of its spatial design practice. 'It’s kind of the same process in a way,' he says, 'whether it’s 2D or 3D. We sketched out ideas, gathered references and started creating and testing. I think all of us were quite aligned from the start.'

To bring the collection to life, POoR worked with Floor Story's head designer Gill Thorpe. 'I was drawn to POoR Collective's ethos of community, joy, wellbeing and their beautifully coloured graphic language,' says Thorpe. 'Power is a versatile and graphically structured flatweave, the only one in the wider collection that comes in two stock colourways. The pattern has been made with the intention of building onto the shapes instead of just scaling up or down, reflecting the inspiration of London's tower blocks.'

Made in Mirzapur, India, POoR's rugs are being showcased during London Design Festival alongside four other designs by four London-based creative practices: Coco Lom, House of Quinn, artist Lakwena Maciver and Les Keepers. Thorpe deliberately chose to work with local designers who had not designed rugs before. 'Each of the five designers has such different styles and ways of creating,' she told Wallpaper*. 'Paint, textiles, photography and mark-making were all brought into the world of rugs for the first time; it was both exciting and explorative.'

While the designers brought new energy and creativity, Thorpe provided the essential technical insights regarding material depth, weave textures and practical considerations like colour durability for high-traffic areas. The POoR team moved from hand sketches to digital drawings and finally to physical samples to understand how different fibres and colour movements would behave in person. The ability to see and touch the fibres in person, Adams says, was a vital part of the process. 'There are aspects like the movement of the weave that you can’t really capture in the same way in a drawing or on a computer screen – you have to see how it will look in person and in samples, and see how the textures will work.'

The rugs will be displayed next month at Floor Story's Shoreditch showroom, which will be transformed into a series of room sets featuring furniture from Spanish brand Sancal and curated by Trifle* Creative. The display will include all five designs – a fitting celebration of London's design talent.

For POoR Collective, the rug offers another medium through which to continue deeper conversations that have long informed its work. Housing estates are filled with overlooked design stories. Platforming them, POoR argues, is a way to challenge design hierarchies and invite marginalised voices to the table. 'With our work moving forward, we’re really looking at what power means,' says Adams. 'We want to talk about buildings, spaces and aspects of design that people don’t typically discuss. We want to shift the conversation.'

The rugs will be on display during London Design Festival, 15–18 September 2026, 10am–6pm daily; Saturday 19 September, 11am–5pm, at Floor Story, Cairo Studios, 4 Nile Street, London N1 7RF

A celebration of beats and bass that started as a ‘stupid loop’ for a series of Levi’s commercials, ‘Flat Beat’ by Mr Oizo is the unlikely inspiration for a new workspace, Flat Office, in Western Australia. It is the latest project from local studio State Twenty Eight, whose team includes lead designer Sean Chan and directors Miriam Terry and Kate McGee.

Their client’s brief was to create ‘a professional workplace with an edge’ in the vibrant Perth suburb of Subiaco. It contained a single creative reference: to the 1990s French Touch classic, ‘Flat Beat’, a global hit thanks in part to its video featuring a cute head-banging yellow puppet sat behind a deep green, space-age ‘Boomerang’ desk, smoking sausages (instead of cigars) in what looks like a gilded presidential office.

But rather than these visuals, it is the electronic instrumental track’s sound – and in particular, its ‘glitchy, repetitive rhythm’ – that provided the key to the design inspiration. Simple but effective, State Twenty Eight’s approach was to echo the song’s repetition and offbeat character in an elegant spatial framework.

‘What we found intriguing was not the song itself but the way it behaves. It is repetitive and controlled, and the small amounts of change feel amplified and memorable,’ explain the architects. Translating this into a visual language, they created a ‘composition that unfolds over time’, with carefully placed interruptions to spark curiosity.

‘A detail I particularly love is the vivid green work point, which takes its cues from a children’s play table,’ says Chan. ‘Set against the warmth and formality of the timber panelling, it introduces an unexpected sense of joy and informality. It is a small gesture, but one that perfectly captures the spirit of the project, balancing professionalism with fun curiosity.’

Also included are a series of cinematic references, reflecting another passion of the client. ‘The client is an avid film enthusiast, and we wanted to embed subtle nods to some of these worlds without allowing them to overwhelm the central concept, explains Terry. ‘Upon arrival, visitors are immersed in an all-encompassing field of light, creating a very surreal atmosphere which helps set the tone for the space, reminiscent of the ceiling light panels found in the dramatic otherworldly bat bunker within Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy.’

Elsewhere, rich wood panelling and midcentury-inspired pieces such as Gubi’s ‘F300’ chair and Hay’s ‘Rey’ chairs pay homage to Mad Men, while the bathrooms are darker and more immersive, with orange-toned lighting and a futuristic theme drawing inspiration from Blade Runner 2049. Each area offers new moments of discovery, ‘giving the clients something different to notice each time they return’.

Although playful, the space is also a celebration of careful planning and precision, as apparent in the meticulous coordination of junctions and lines throughout the interior. ‘Achieving this level of precision required countless hours of testing and refinement,’ says Chan. ‘While these details may sit quietly in the background, they establish the sense of order that allows those moments of disruption within the project to feel impactful.’

The resulting workplace carries a sense of character that reflects the energy and confidence of the client, a longtime friend. ‘The space defines the character that is its muse, the music and video, but also manages to capture the client himself,’ says Terry. ‘An effortlessly cool human, the man you want to find yourself sat next to at a bar deep in a conversation where the hours float away. There are so many moments in the space that feel refined and classic but also a bit cheeky, should you stop to ponder them.’

‘Innovation does not always come from new materials or technologies,’ conclude the designers. ‘Sometimes it comes from looking at familiar things differently and finding unexpected ways to translate them into a space.’

state28interiors.com.au

British designer Lee Broom invites visitors into The Chant Chambers, a new installation for London Design Festival 2026. Last year we saw his original piece ‘Beacon’ light up the South Bank. This year sees a continuation of the designer’s portable lighting piece entitled ‘Chant’. The newly expanded collection includes oversized chandelier compositions, sculptural wall lights, linear pendants and architectural lighting structures.

Step inside The Chant Chambers by Lee Broom

Broom, who has been busy illuminating Madonna's Confessions II film , notes that some pieces feel complete as a single object, while others are collections that can evolve. ‘It’s often the ones based around very simple shapes that allow me to do that, and ‘Chant’ has that quality. It’s a very pure form, a glass cube with a circular indentation, so there’s a natural opportunity to play with repetition, scale, and different configurations. I’ve always loved lighting that can really inhabit a space, rather than simply sit within it, and that became the starting point for expanding the collection.’

The cubic design allows it to flow through a room and intertwine within the interior, sitting at the intersection between architecture and decor. The pieces feel atmospheric and sultry. Presented in a new smoked glass finish, the darker tones echo a 1970s interior.

‘I’m a modernist,’ exclaims Broom, ‘but I’ve always been drawn to nostalgia, particularly the late 1970s. There was something very distinctive about interiors from that period; they could be decorative, but they also had a real sculptural quality, and often a slightly more masculine sensibility than traditional interior decoration. I love the smoked glass, mirrors, and wall-to-wall carpeting.

‘They were strong design gestures that created a real atmosphere. I also like the lighting from that period too. It didn’t always take centre stage, but there would often be one strong sculptural chandelier, or lighting would be integrated throughout the interior in a much more architectural way.’

When designing ‘Chant ', Broom looked towards the glass block’s two historical references: when it first emerged during the Art Deco period, and then its re-emergence in the late 1970s and early 1980s. The collection draws on these moments, but filtered through a modernist lens.

Broom’s work has a distinctive sense of geometry, yet he doesn’t quite know why. ‘Even when I try to design something more organic or textural, there is usually some sense of symmetry, balance or geometry sitting within. I’m not a particularly mathematical person, but I do think I’m very drawn to order.

‘I suppose it also reflects the way I am generally. I like order, I like discipline, and I’m a perfectionist. So the geometry within the work probably comes quite naturally from that. It gives me a framework, and then within that framework I can start to play with material, proportion and light.’

For Broom’s expanded vision of ‘Chant’, how it makes you feel is just as important as how it functions. ‘I’ve always designed from quite an emotive place. Of course, form and function are fundamental, and that’s where the real challenges lie, but with the expanded Chant collection I wanted to create something that also brings a sense of nostalgia and playfulness, while still feeling very considered and conceptual.

'There’s something quite mesmerising about seeing these glass forms repeated across a ceiling or through a space. In multiples, they become almost hypnotic. So I hope people feel uplifted by it, a sense of joy, but also slightly transported, so that they stop for a moment and really experience the light rather than simply see it.’

The full installation will be on view to the public during London Design Festival, 15–20 September 2026, at Lee Broom, 91, 93 and 95 Rivington Street, Shoreditch, London, EC2A 3AY

‘Serene’ is a word you’d rarely use to describe Midtown Manhattan. But Sutton Place, a pint-size residential enclave perched above the East River, is about the closest you’ll get to a an escape from concrete jungle, with its stately prewar buildings and verdant pocket parks.

A Connecticut couple in search of a New York pied-à-terre were similarly drawn to the neighbourhood, and wound up purchasing a one-bedroom apartment in a handsome co-op designed by Emery Roth in 1938. ‘My family had an apartment for 25 years in a different Emery Roth building, and so a lot of the details in the common areas felt very familiar,’ the wife says.

Less familiar were the apartment’s interiors, which in addition to a quirky layout that included a sunken living room, featured heavy, late-1990s details like dark wood accents, crystal sconces and a dated marble bathroom. Still, the clients saw potential in the 850 sq ft unit’s graciously proportioned rooms and glimmers of Roth’s original details. ‘I thought we could do something great with it,’ the wife says.

Enter New York-based interior designer Lauren Carlucci, who started her eponymous studio in 2023 after spending years in the art world. ‘I started this project at my kitchen table,’ Carlucci says. While the designer has an affinity for exuberant pattern, the client wanted something more subdued: ‘Our home in Connecticut is very traditional Connecticut. There's a lot of wallpaper,’ she says. ‘For this, I wanted something that was different, something that was calm, clean, and restful – an oasis in the busy city.’

‘She wanted a Parisian jewel box,’ Carlucci adds, ‘so that’s exactly what we delivered.’

The designer started by stripping back the apartment’s non-original details and clarifying the floorplan. Closet space was sacrificed to enlarge the galley kitchen and the small bathroom. Gone went the ornate mouldings and a bulky wood bannister fencing in the sunken living room. ‘We demolished it all,’ Carlucci says.

During the design phase, Carlucci fell in love with the few original 1930s details that remained in the home – soft curves on the doorframes and ceiling mouldings. She designed to lean into these modernist influences in her scheme. ‘I really left these little breadcrumbs,’ Carlucci says of her historical influences, ‘a mix of art deco, streamline moderne, and maybe a little Bauhaus here and there.’

That starts as soon as you enter the apartment and are greeted by a set of green lacquered storage closets and a hexagonal mirror. Look closely, and you’ll spot a stepped, art deco motif in the cabinet hardware and the baseboards. A lively Jazz Age squiggle can be found in the border of the custom rug as well as the silhouette of a railing tracing a diminutive set of steps down to the living area.

Gone, of course, is the bannister, which made the sunken living room feel small and disconnected from the rest of the apartment. Now, the room almost vibrates thanks to cream coloured walls, and furnishings in rich burgundy and chocolate brown, and – the biggest surprise – a carpet in a zippy chartreuse silk.

A new fireplace surrounded by shelving that displays artworks and objects from the clients’ personal collection creates a restful focal point. No surprise, the profile of the new mantel matches the profile of the doors and mouldings. ‘There’s a story being told,’ Carlucci says.

Back up the mini set of stairs, guests reach the kitchen, which is similarly drenched in a restful off-white palette. A small dining nook, where the clients will have their morning coffee and read the newspaper, is a moment of sheer fun, with red banquette seating and a tubular chair where Carlucci had the opportunity to inject a ‘blast of pattern’ via a leopard-print fabric.

Carlucci amped up the art deco glamour in the bathroom. Dark millwork, polished nickel, and black marble create a sophisticated, timeless atmosphere.’I loved the idea of bringing in black,’ Carlucci says. Open up the shower, though, and there’s a surprise: an enclosure of handmade brown tiles, mottled like tortoiseshell from the British company Balineum. ‘It’s fun designing small spaces because you can pack a punch,’ the designer adds.

The apartment’s sole bedroom is a serene retreat, thanks to taupe walls (‘Matchstick’ by Farrow & Ball), and a plush turquoise carpet. Like the living room, the colour palette is unexpected – the bed is upholstered in a deep rust velvet, while a reading chair is covered in a lime-coloured cotton – but the rich tones, sumptuous textures and neutral walls allow them to harmonise.

Carlucci didn’t have to shop for much furniture; items from the couple’s own collection were reupholstered and refinished. Flanking the bed are a pair of art deco nightstands from the husband’s bachelor apartment. ‘They've been with us a long time, and it's wonderful to see them,’ the client says. The living room sofa also got restuffed and reupholstered and is now the optimal snuggling spot for the homeowners’ Havanese, Ginger.

‘We wanted it to be luxurious, but without being fussy. And I think that Lauren has accomplished that perfectly,’ the client says. ‘We're very happy here.’

Anyone who dabbles in the world of video games, whether professionally or recreationally, knows it isn’t an affordable hobby to undertake. However, the flat-pack furniture giganaut IKEA has collaborated with XBOX to unveil a new gaming collection suited to the reality of modern home gaming.

Wallpaper* journeyed to Cologne, Germany, to discover the exclusive first look at the nine-piece furniture collection, which was revealed today (26 August 2026) at Gamescom, the world’s largest video game event.

IKEA and XBOX present the YXSTABY collection

Against the backdrop of vibrant cosplay, immersive gaming setups, and gigantic installations, the XBOX showcase sits in the shadows, enveloped in its distinct green and black colour palette. Stationed at the back of one of the eight halls, the new YXSTABY collection was on full display for the first time. Featuring a gaming lounge chair with side pockets for consoles, a gaming stool, and multiple storage systems for those who don’t have a dedicated space for gaming, the collection could be quite the game-changer for the console-conscious.

The gaming community spans three billion people, and the collection was designed to accommodate all types of rooms and set-ups, leaning more into smaller, compact spaces and student living, which has been a recurring theme for IKEA after its recent portable furniture collection ’Kompishäng ’, which launched earlier this month.

The designs lean towards fun and functional, with the XBOX controller being a recurring source of inspiration for the collection. This is seen in the YXSTABY gaming thumbstick stool, which, as the name suggests, is inspired by the XBOX controller and designed to tilt with each movement of the user. IKEA worked closely with the XBOX device designers and used the controller’s original 3D design files.

The YXSTABY collection also includes IKEA’s first TV stand, which you can roll into any room. The other pieces, such as the toolbox and the side table, help store controllers, cables, and hardware.

There were many iterations and prototypes made as part of YXSTABY – some of the designer's darlings were discarded, while others were kept for potential inclusion in future collections.

'It starts with a great idea, prototypes, and nailing the form, function, and quality. Then we need to make sure we can adjust it for mass production,' IKEA designer David Wahl tells Wallpaper*. 'I think that's very natural for us to start with lots of ideas, and then see how we can make it into a fantastic product. But some stuff changed, like the platter; this actually used to be the top of the stool.'

Although the collection has gaming in mind, it is designed to be used across many spaces and for different households, as Wahl notes, 'This was the whole meaning behind YXSTABY. It should be for the many, and if you don't see the gaming details, that is fine. You don't need to be that hardcore into gaming to appreciate the shape or the function.'

Similar to video games, XBOX design director Elliot Hsu hinted at hidden 'Easter eggs' in the YXSTABY collection. In the name itself, eagle-eyed readers may spot the nod to the ' X ', 'Y ', 'A', 'B' buttons (then merged with the name of a town in Sweden, which IKEA designer Lucas Bazle explained was an anagram puzzle in itself)

There are also subtle nods to IKEA and XBOX hidden throughout the collection – including symbols, puzzles and video game characters from prominent XBOX games.

Both brands worked closely on each design in the collection, and in true IKEA fashion, home visits took place to understand how XBOX fits into people’s everyday lives. The aim of the collection was to be designed for shared spaces, creating solutions that allow people to game without equipment taking over the home.

Green is a defining colour of the collection. Although the lime green shade is part of the XBOX colours, both brands realised they shared the same deeper green colour palette. 'We found little ways to express the sign of XBOX, but in a sophisticated and more accepting way for anybody's home,' explains XBOX partner head of design Carl Ledbetter. 'At XBOX, although our brand colour is green, you don't see a proliferation of green on our products. The console is understated, fits into the living room, and sort of disappears. We use green as little accents. Applying that philosophy to all the pieces here is quite a nice tie-in to the sort of brand ethos.'

Ledbetter concludes, 'I hope when people try out these products they feel like so much thought went into it and solved problems. Whether it's cable management, or places to store your controllers or a handheld device, I hope people feel delighted by that, and that they can look at the products, in a year or two and still feel really good about the them. That'll completely be a success.'

In the UK, the YXSTABY collection will be available to purchase from 1 October 2026. The collection will be available in-store and online while stocks last. ikea.com

Sixty years after its founding, B&B Italia's identity remains as recognisable as many of the furniture pieces it produces. While the Italian furniture company is celebrated for collaborations with designers including Mario Bellini, Gaetano Pesce and Antonio Citterio, it also pioneered an approach that treated graphic design, photography and advertising as extensions of the design process itself.

B&B Italia visionary campaigns

That philosophy began almost immediately. In 1966, founder Piero Ambrogio Busnelli commissioned the young graphic designer Enrico Trabacchi to develop the company's (then known as C&B) corporate identity. It was the beginning of a decade-long collaboration that established the visual language of the company. Rather than following the conventions of furniture advertising, Trabacchi developed campaigns that drew on contemporary graphic design, experimental typography and art photography, reflecting the wider cultural shifts taking place across Italy during the late 1960s and 1970s.

Stefano Casciani, writing in The Long Life of Design in Italy, argues that Trabacchi's ambition was 'to differentiate the image of C&B from the clamour of furniture marketing', at a time when the industry's advertising often lagged behind the innovation of its products.

One of the defining early examples came with the launch of Gaetano Pesce's revolutionary UP armchairs in 1969. Instead of placing the sculptural polyurethane seats within comfortable domestic interiors, Trabacchi collaborated with Swiss photographer Klaus Zaugg to stage them against stark, lunar landscapes that felt closer to science fiction than traditional furniture catalogues. The imagery echoed Pesce's own intentions for the project, transforming a commercial campaign into a visual manifesto about technology, design and social change.

Trabacchi's willingness to challenge convention established an approach that would continue throughout the company's history. Advertising became another arena for experimentation, shaped through close collaborations between designers, photographers and graphic designers rather than marketing departments.

That creative confidence reached a new level with the arrival of a young Oliviero Toscani, whose photography for Mario Bellini's Le Bambole sofa pushed provocation even further. His image of model Donna Jordan reclining topless on the sofa helped redefine the visual language of furniture advertising. Although undeniably influential, it also illustrates how ideas of provocation evolve over time: an image once celebrated for its boldness may now be read as relying on the objectification of the female body.

The company's visual language continued to evolve with each generation. From 1976 until 1995, B&B Italia collaborated with Swiss graphic designers Hans Suter and Fritz Tschirren of agency STZ, whose witty, surreal campaigns treated furniture as actors within carefully scripted narratives rather than static objects. Their dadaist photographic tableaux and a series of 15-second television commercials for RAI in 1985 – among the earliest by an Italian design company – demonstrated that communication could be as playful and experimental as the products themselves.

By the mid-1990s, the emphasis had shifted once again. As B&B Italia expanded into integrated furnishing systems and a global network of flagship stores, its communications increasingly presented complete living environments rather than individual pieces, reinforcing the idea that the brand was selling a way of living as much as furniture itself.

Looking back across six decades, what emerges is not simply a history of memorable advertising, but of a company that regarded communication as another form of design. Graphic designers, photographers and art directors were given the same creative freedom as furniture designers, resulting in campaigns that often proved as influential as the products themselves.

'Today, it is essential to maintain a high level of creativity – one that is also, to some extent, subversive, free, experimental, even avant-garde, however we choose to define it,' reflects Piero Gandini, executive chairman and art director of Flos B&B Italia Group. 'This is precisely what has characterised Italian design, and above all what has created a thread of connection between the public and the brand – one based on respect, but also on a certain degree of affection. And this, in my view, is crucial.'

Lighting a candle is an act of self-care. A simple gesture can create a soothing atmosphere, and now the Los Angeles-based design brand Dumæ wants to elevate this further. The Kayla Lighter is a chic replacement for the everyday match or worn-out plastic igniter.

Sculpted from brass, handcrafted in India and refillable, the lighter sits between a functional object and a homeware accessory, and is as beautiful as it is functional. Founded by Kym Gold and Sakshi Khurana, Dumæ works with artisan partners across India to create pieces that bring a sense of permanence and beauty to an everyday ritual.

The Kayla Lighter was presented alongside a wider collection, including pieces varying from tabletop and serving vessels to candle lights, lighting, and collectible gifts. What ties each piece together is its aesthetics and functionality, which encourage conversation, as mundane household objects are transformed into objects of beauty.

Dumæ's creative vision is centred on contemporary design paired with artisanal knowledge. The brand’s name is derived from Point Dume, the Malibu coastline where Gold grew up, and combined with Mae, a spiritual tribute to motherhood and the women who have shaped her life and creative perspective.

The founding partners come from a fashion background, with Gold previously co-founding the high-end jeans brand True Religion, while Khurana has worked across operations and product development with brands like Giorgio Armani and Urban Zen by Donna Karan. For them, Dumæ is a vessel to utilise their shared fashion experience and transplant it into the design world.

Working with ceramics, wax and metal, to paper, textiles and lighting, the brand has now ventured into sculptural brass through the Kayla Lighter, which now joins Dumæ’s portfolio of objects that can move effortlessly between homes, hotels and shared spaces.

Through rich colours, vibrant decor and stylish couture, filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar has crafted a visual language over his five-decade career that now seems inextricable from contemporary Spanish identity. Interior design is sacred ground for the Madrid-based legend of world cinema, who constructs vibrant aesthetic landscapes in which equally rich stories unfold.

His latest creation, 'Bitter Christmas' (out in UK cinemas from 28 August 2026), is a work of autofiction about the craft of filmmaking. While the plot sees characters battling writer’s block and other personal demons, the slick design of the spaces reflects their emotional experiences - as well as Almodóvar’s distinctive taste in furniture, art and decoration.

Designing Pedro Almodóvar's rich universe

'Pedro’s universe is one of colour, symmetry and saturation,' says art director Antxón Gómez, who has worked on 13 of Almodóvar’s films over the past three decades. 'All the objects that appear have a narrative – the decoration is another character in the films.'

A filmmaker named Raúl (played by Leonardo Sbaraglia) is the autobiographically inspired protagonist of 'Bitter Christmas'. 'Raúl’s world is one where he's constantly writing,' says Gómez, explaining scenes that show the character typing at his desk. 'Behind him, there's a bookshelf full of books about culture and cinema.'

The red shelves are set against a glass wall to the outdoors, which Gómez says has a symbolic function. 'The idea was that Raúl is free because nothing is closed off behind him,' he explains. 'He has freedom of thought and freedom to write.'

Raúl’s home also offers a visual feast through furniture design. His living room features a Superleggera armchair by Gio Ponti and a Cornaro sofa by Carlo Scarpa. A Lámina ceiling light designed by Antoni Arola for Santa & Cole hangs in his dining room while an Angel Wing floor lamp by Alvar Aalto from Artek stands in the corner. The decor unites modern and contemporary icons, from a Cassina sofa designed by Le Corbusier, Pierre Jeanneret and Charlotte Perriand to Jaime Hayon’s Explorer table and Multileg cabinet for BD Barcelona.

The design of this and other homes serves to accentuate some of the story’s most evocative moments. When another main character, Elsa (played by Barbara Lennie), goes to her friend Patricia (Victoria Luengo)’s house, she finds a green Bubble sofa by Sacha Lakic – which formed part of a collection that Almodóvar himself curated for Roche Bobois in 2025. The two women sit on the sofa and cry while listening to Mexican singer Chavela Vargas, whose song Amarga Navidad (Bitter Christmas) lends the film its name.

Crafting a story through art and furniture

Complementing the furniture is a striking curation of artworks – nearly all from Almodóvar’s own collection. Many are by Spanish icons who emerged, like the director himself, from la movida madrilena – the countercultural movement following the end of Franco’s dictatorship in 1975. Sigfrido Martín Begué’s screenprint Santa Cecilia (1987) hangs in Patricia’s flat, while Raul’s residence houses an abstract oil painting by Miguel Ángel Campano – to whom Madrid gallery Maisterra is dedicating a new exhibition opening in September.

Alongside the Spanish names are New York-based contemporary artists like Inka Essenhigh, whose surreal floral paintings hang over Elsa’s bed as she suffers a migraine, and Asher Liftin, whose trompe l'oeil painting Studio Window IV (Hot Winter Sun) hangs opposite Raúl’s desk – another symbol of the open windows of his mind.

An architectural journey

Often favouring real-life locations over film sets, Almodóvar sets his stories in places replete with design heritage. The scenes at Raúl’s home were filmed in the Madrid residence and studio of modernist architect Francisco de Asís Cabrero, designed in 1962. The wooden-panelled structure supported by red steel columns and beams blends Spanish rationalism with a Japanese-inspired attention to blending indoor and outdoor space.

Likewise, when Elsa retreats to Lanzarote to unlock her creativity, viewers are greeted by another striking project -–a home called La Cabaña belonging to and designed by French designer Yoann Le Mercier. Set among the vast volcanic terrain of the island, the property features white walls and flooring throughout, with subtle touches of light wood and colourful fruit. Black rock walls close off the outdoor area, punctuated by cacti and other subtropical vegetation.

Taken by Le Mercier’s decor, which included an Honoré armchair, a Blasco linen sofa and Roger Capron ceramic coffee tables, Gómez and his team kept most things in place for the filming. Small additions they made included vases by César Manrique – an homage to Lanzarote’s most defining architect, whose house-museum is also found on the island.

The setting also allowed Almodóvar – normally famed for bright, vibrant colours - to take a significant new direction by embracing white and black. 'It was very unusual - but that’s what the island is,' explains Gómez, referring to Lanzarote’s black lava and whitewashed buildings. 'Respecting that was a very interesting decision.'

It’s part of a wider chromatic shift across Almodóvar's career: while his earlier works celebrated red, apricot and albero tones, his recent creations lean towards more melancholic shades of blue, green and grey. The changing colour palette echoes the evolution of a filmmaker who has charted immense social transformation over his time. 'Albero belongs to another narrative era of Pedro’s films,' reflects Gómez. 'Maybe we’ll return sometime – but we all need to change a little, right?'

Bitter Christmas is in UK cinemas from 28 August 2026

Did you hear? The bathroom is the most precious room of the house: part wellness space, part intimate sanctuary, it is the private heart of a home and one that has often been overlooked. We round up four contemporary bathroom design ideas that our team created from this year's boldest bathroom launches – many spotted at Salone del Mobile – accessorised with unexpected design gestures that bring excitement to the washroom.

Browse our bathroom design ideas imagined to elevate the formerly humble room, from bold materiality to serene colour palettes, from unexpected wallcovering that add warmth to the room to spatial design that transforms a practical room into a refined, modern temple to the art of wellness.

Bathroom design trends to elevate your wellness space in 2027

Bold materials

Yes, traditional bathroom materials might be practical, but combine dynamic tiling and marble and top it off with brushed stainless steel for a modern take on the washroom. Laufen's 'Rivo’ washbasin’, in brushed stainless steel, is both utilitarian and elegant - accents like a wooden screen or a wall-mounted steel vase bring the room together in refined ways.

‘Pantàlica’ limited-edition screen, by Nicolò Spinelli, for Studio Twenty Seven. ‘Rivo’ washbasin’, by Laufen. ‘Flora’ basin levers, by Vincent Van Duysen, for Fantini. Oregano soap, by Loewe. Fleur Éclair eau de parfum, by Régime des Fleurs. Steel wall vase, by Eitan Boiarsky, from Tage Gallery. ‘Beaton’ double-ended bath in gloss, ‘Ten Ten’ bath/shower mixer with handwheels on standpipes in silver nickel, both by Lefroy Brooks. ‘Dots Glass’ wall lamp, by Martín Azúa, for Vibia. Terry towel in Yellow Ochre, by Tekla. ‘Mid’ wall tiles in Ambra and Turchese, price on request, by Ragno. ‘Santafiora Venata’ floor slabs, by Margraf

Design with tiles

A tile can go a long way if the colour is right, and a bold colour combination can offer unexpectedly serene interiors. We chose Florim's 'SensiColore' tiles in moss with burgundy accents, and arranged them structurally to design the room. The rich hues of the tiles perfectly frame our sunken bath and give a serene, peaceful mood to the space.

‘OG-NM301' stainless steel stool, by Andrea Ferrari, for Quadro Design and NM3. Terry towel in Forest Green, by Tekla. Scent of Marihuana soap, by Loewe. True Ionized Cleansing Water 1, by Buly 1803. Rock River Melody eau de parfum; Fleur Éclair eau de parfum, by Régime des Fleurs. ‘Nuio Duo Zen Edition' bathtub, by Stefan Diez, for Kaldewei. ‘Diametro 35 S' deck-mounted bath mixers, by Ritmonio. ‘SensiColore' tiles in Vino and Muschio, by Matteo Thun and Benedetto Fasciana, for Florim

Unexpected wallcoverings

A perfect backdrop for our sculptural bathroom set up is offered by this wall panelling that adds warmth to the room. The Canaletto Walnut wall panelling from Florim is a perfect way to bring visual richness to this temple of wellness, that feels more like a sophisticated cabin in the woods than a room for quotidian routines.

‘Greenwich’ towel in Rhus, by Baina. ‘Cenote’ bathtub, from by Patricia Urquiola, for Agape. ‘Flora’ floorstanding bath mixer, by Vincent Van Duysen, for Fantini. ‘Settecento Cut’ washbasin in Bianco, by Giulio Cappellini, for Ceramica Flaminia. ‘FFQT’ basin mixers, by Formafantasma, for Quadro Design. ‘Crea’ wall panelling, by Marazzi. ‘SensiColore’ wall tiles in Vino, by Matteo Thun and Benedetto Fasciana, for Florim

Similarly, the Schotten & Hansen Ridgeline wall panelling is 'inspired by the rugged beauty of split wood and the deep, time-worn tones of oak': a concept that perfectly encapsulates the new tonal and material approach of these rooms. Here, the material is accompanies by a chromatic takeover in the form of tiling and textiles: the Albers-inspired tiles on the floor and the grand curtain at the back help create a space you'll want to get lost in.

‘Allure’ wall-mounted double-movement mixer, by Natalino Malasorti, for Ceadesign. Fleur Éclair eau de parfum, by Régime des Fleurs. True Ionized Cleansing Water 1, by Buly 1803. ‘Arc’ sconce in Satin Black, by De Troupe ‘Reverie’ freestanding bath, by Kohler. ‘Axor Uno’ curved floorstanding bath spout, by Phoenix Design, for Axor. ‘Adamo & Eva’ cotton velvet in 143, by Dedar. ‘Tabouret Meribel’ stool, by Charlotte Perriand, for Cassina. ‘Celeste & Chalk’ towels, by Baina. ‘Ridgeline’ wall panelling, by Torben Hansen and Francisco Cortina, for Schotten & Hansen. ‘Homage to the Square’ floor tiles in Sea, by the Josef & Anni Albers Foundation, for Mutina

Modern sanctuaries

Think of a bathroom as a temple of wellness: a space where symmetry, dramatic lighting and bold structural detail come together to celebrate the act (and art) of bathing. In our space, the elegant centrepiece of the basin is flanked by discreet shower mixers, and the porcelain-effect wallcovering (in a shade that bears the evocative name of 'Magma') offers a delicious accompaniment to the space's visual effect.

‘Octo’ built-in thermostatic shower mixers with two stop valves, by David Lopez Quincoces; ‘Bar 59’ 50mm rain jet shower heads, by Matteo Fiorini with Studio Lys, all for Zucchetti. ‘Orfeo’ mirrors; ‘Teseo’ washbasin, by Andrea Parisio and Giuseppe Pezzano, for Ceramica Cielo. ‘Vice Versa’ towel in Terracotta, by Hermès. ‘Diametro 35 S’ exposed single-lever basin mixers, by Ritmonio. Oregano liquid soap, Tomato Leaves soap, both by Loewe. ‘Éclos’ surface in Wondr, by Cosentino. ‘Grande Lume’ slabs in Magma, by Marazzi

Known as 'King of Lucite', American designer Charles Hollis Jones focused his entire career on creating highly extravagant, transparent bespoke furniture pieces to become a leader of 1970s Hollywood interior glamour. Last week, Jones died at the age of 81.

I met Jones in his studio in Burbank, California in 2016. He showed me around his creative space and talked about his prolific career. He was just 16 years old when he moved from his native Indiana to Los Angeles, where he founded his own brand, CHJ. From the beginning he started to specialize in then innovative material – Lucite (a specific, brand name for acrylic material) – and imagined unique sculptural interior objects, which soon gained considerable attention of wealthy clients. Frank Sinatra, Lucille Ball, Johnny Carson, Steve McQueen and Dean Martin were among some celebrities to commission Jones to design pieces for their homes.

Other famous clients followed including Diana Ross, Johnny Mathis, Muhammad Ali, Sylvester Stallone and Kelly Lynch.

'Lucite was not my first choice. I really loved glass, but it could not do what I wanted it to do, so I decided to devote my career to acrylic instead,' said Jones about his material choice which defined his entire oeuvre.

Besides famous Hollywood celebrities, Jones also started to collaborate with the leading interior decorators and architects of his time, including Arthur Elrod, Paul László, Hal Broderick and John Lautner, with whom he collaborated on more than a dozen of projects.

The memorable collaboration with Lautner was very important for Jones, who showed me many pictures of the original interiors furnished for Lautner. He created hundreds of acrylic furniture pieces for Lautner's projects, including few pieces for the legendary residence of interior decorator Arthur Elrod in Palm Springs in 1969. This desert concrete house then became a cultural icon of the 1960s when it appeared in James Bond's Diamonds are Forever movie.

After working for renowned interior showroom Hudson-Rissman in Los Angeles, Jones established his own store, offering a wide assortment of acrylic pieces, ranging from furniture and lighting to sculptural objects and accessories. One of his most iconic designs of the late 1960s and early 1970s is without a doubt the Edison Lamp, created in 1970. The transparency of the lamp pays tribute to the original Thomas Edison's light bulb, leaving it exposed to be admired as a piece of technology.

Jones also collaborated with country musician Tennessee Williams, for whom he created signature Wisteria chair in 1968. Composed of intersecting sheets of acrylic, the chair is the abstract sculptural composition of almost invisible appearance, as most of the transparent acrylic Jones's pieces, including award-winning collections Fleur de Lis, Waterfall or Metric.

Since the early 1980s, Jones continued to produce and sell acrylic pieces in his showrooms but mostly directly to his clients and interior decorators. Later on, his work was largely forgotten until the early 2000s, when it began to show up in the secondary market. Today, most of Jones's vintage pieces are rare collectibles and Jones himself is considered as one of the most important figures of the 20th-century American studio furniture movement.

Balancing boldness with restraint, the new ‘Dori’ collection by Doshi Levien for Hay reflects the dual approach of its creators, Nipa Doshi and Jonathan Levien. The pair, who founded their studio in London in 2000, is known for combining cultural richness with technical innovation, with Doshi’s delicate visual sensibility a perfect foil for Levien’s industrial precision.

Offering a subtle combination of texture and colour, the ‘Dori’ textile range is named after the Hindi word for ‘thread’ and includes a quilted bedspread, cushion and organic cotton cushion cover. With their contrast stitching in a grid pattern and reversible colour fields, they are a perfect match to Doshi Levien’s 2021 ‘Quilton’ sofa, a ‘quilted landscape system’ that was their debut design for Hay, as well as their ‘Rabari’ rug collection for Nanimarquina.

For Doshi, who grew up in Mumbai, it’s an opportunity to bring ‘a different textile culture into the Hay universe, rooted in Indian traditions of cotton, embroidery and everyday use.’ The inspiration for the collection actually came from a textile sample whose intricate reverse was noticed by Mette Hay, Hay’s co-founder and creative director of accessories, during a visit to Doshi Levien’s London studio.

‘It was a simple two-tone check pattern on a cotton fabric, in a kantha or kabira stitch, a running, hand-embroidered technique traditionally used for quilting fabrics in different parts of India including Gujarat, West Bengal and Rajasthan,’ says Doshi of the eye-catching sample fabric, which was actually made by her aunt’s workshop in Ahmedabad.

‘Set in the garden of a modernist house and employing over 60 master craftspeople, my aunt’s workshop also made the “Charpoy” daybed collection we designed for Moroso in 2008,’ she says. ‘I studied at the National Institute of Design in Ahmedabad and spent considerable time in this incredible textile workshop that also made clothes for Issey Miyake and Hermès. It was in Ahmedabad that I developed a deep love for Indian textiles and techniques; and modern Indian architecture by B V Doshi, Le Corbusier and Louis Kahn.’

While traditional kantha embroidery is created by hand, the ‘Dori’ collection is made using industrial machine embroidery to make it more accessible. The bright contrast stitching in the shape of a grid adds texture but is also practical. ‘It’s not only decorative,’ says Doshi, ‘but also acts as a subtle guide, showing how to fold, place, and compose the bed. Even within industrial production, the piece carries a sense of craftsmanship – every detail reflects care, intelligence, and time.’

As you’d expect from a studio whose ‘Kinari’ collection for Galerie Kreo was named ‘Best Colour Study’ in the Wallpaper* Design Awards 2024, the collection’s colour palette is key to its appeal. Doshi Levien has its own colour lab with around 300-400 different hues, and yet still mixes additional colours for projects such as ‘Dori’, whose apparent simplicity is actually the result of two years of research.

The pieces are available in three reversible two-tone colourways – midnight blue, maroon, and green – inspired by a wide-ranging colour research spanning everything from miniature paintings from Jodhpur and glazed ceramic and lacquer samples, to Picasso’s 1932 La Lecture (Reading) and Malevich’s 1915 Suprematism; Self Portrait in Two Dimensions.

‘The idea was to allow people to change the identity of the piece simply by turning it over,’ says Doshi of the reversible design. ‘Each colourway is finely embroidered in two contrasting, bright threads. This gave us endless possibilities for colour explorations, not only for fabrics but also embroidery threads.’ The designers made more than 50 combinations to send as options to Hay.

‘We chose fabric colours that were dark saturated colours on one side with light colours on the reverse; the thread colours are deliberately bright and vibrant so they are fine but visible on both dark and light side,’ she says. ‘Quite a challenge to have four colours working together in each colour way!

‘Dori’ is all about pared-back and carefully thought-through details, such as the small label that carries an embroidered signature, adding a personal touch to the tactile pieces. Bringing warmth, colour, and presence to the room, the new collection is also a celebration of the ‘very important ritual of making a beautiful bed, and enjoying the process of doing something simple, well’.

If you know the Italian furniture brand Kartell, then you likely know Anna Castelli Ferrieri (1918–2006). The designer co-founded the company with her husband, Giulio Castelli, and created some of its most iconic pieces. Dubbed ‘the Queen of Plastic’, Ferrieri was responsible for popularising the material as the ultimate future-facing option for mass-produced furniture in the second half of the 20th century.

Castelli won Italy’s leading design prize, the Compasso d’Oro, three times, enjoyed a successful career as an architect, and in her later years taught at prestigious design schools. Her ‘Componibili’ storage system or Kartell continues to be produced, and chances are someone you know has one at home.

Who was Anna Castelli Ferrieri?

Ferrieri studied architecture at the Polytechnic University of Milan, graduating in 1943 – the same year she married Castelli. During her studies, she was influenced by Italian Rationalist architect Franco Albini and the Bauhaus school; both championed function, rigour and simplicity in design.

After the Second World War ended, Ferrieri established her own architecture studio in Milan. In these early years, she also engaged in journalism, becoming editor at two architecture magazines – Costruzioni and Casabella – as well as a correspondent for the English publication Architectural Design.

In 1949, Ferrieri and Castelli founded Kartell, initially focused on producing car accessories such as roof-mounted ski racks, before it expanded into domestic design. Little did the duo know that the company would go on to become a world-leading plastic furniture brand. In fact, it would be another 15 years until Ferrieri became involved in designing products for the company – preferring instead in the meantime to focus on architecture.

As an architect, Ferrieri predominantly worked on masterplans, housing and offices in and around Milan. During this time she joined the National Institute of Urban Planning (INU) and the Association for Industrial Design (ADI), later serving as the first female president of the ADI (1969–1971). From 1959 to 1973, she worked with architect Ignazio Gardella, with whom she designed the bright-red factory building outside Milan for Kartell in 1966.

Anna Castelli Ferrieri and the Kartell revolution

Ferrieri designed her first product for Kartell in 1964, in collaboration with Gardella: a plastic table for the residence attached to the Gritti Palace Hotel in Venice. Echoing the form of Eero Saarinen’s famous ‘Tulip’ table (1956), with its central stand, the table reflected the shifting consumer desires of the day while pushing forward the innovation of using plastic for furniture – a material that had previously been seen as as only appropriate for industrial applications.

Ferrieri started designing products for Kartell more regularly in 1966, and with her input the role of plastic furniture cemented the company’s identity – and success. Her design vision was aesthetically one of geometric shapes, bold colour and glossy finishes; more than that, she truly believed in producing practical, affordable, everyday furniture that could enhance people’s lives.

The Kartell Componibili

Once at Kartell, Ferrieri was quickly preoccupied with developing a mobile, modular storage system from injection-molded ABS (alias acrylonitrile butadiene styrene) – a glossy, strong plastic. That journey led her to design the ‘Componibili’, a cabinet of different sizes and configurations that could double as a side table, in an array of bright colours. Starting as rectangular in 1967 before adopting its now-famous cylindrical form in 1969, this is the design that has become synonymous with Kartell, and commonplace in design-conscious homes around the world.

The ‘Componibili’ was featured in the seminal 1972 exhibition, ‘Italy: The New Domestic Landscape’, at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York, pointing the way towards a more contemporary lifestyle in which both society and interiors were liberated from tradition.

In 1976, Ferrieri was finally appointed Kartell’s art director, a position she held until 1987. She continued to design popular pieces – including colourful plastic tableware (‘Kartell in Tavola’, 1976) and award-winning stackable seating (‘4870 Chair’, 1986). She also published the book ‘From Project to Product: Plastic and Design’ (1984).

1980s and 90s: after Kartell

In 1988, Ferrieri and Castelli sold Kartell to their son-in-law, Claudio Luti. Ferrieri had already shifted into teaching, passing on her knowledge and perspectives on design to the next generation. She taught at Milan Polytechnic (1984–1986), the Domus Academy (1987–1992) and the RMIT Centre for Design in Melbourne (1992). In 1990 she founded the design studio ACF Officina, working alongside young Italian and international designers.

The most significant archive of Ferrieri’s work is housed at the Kartell Museum in Noviglio, Italy. Meanwhile, her ‘Componibili’ designs continue to be manufactured, enduring in their practical and aesthetic appeal.

Discover Anna Castelli Ferrieri's key works

‘Componibili’ (1967–9)

‘4822 Stool’ (1979)

‘Servomuto’ (1986)

‘4870 Chair’ (1986)

‘4841 Armchair’ (1988)

Although lighting designer Nathan Orsman likens his role in interiors to that of a 'back-up dancer', he appreciates the opportunity to get involved with the design of a space from the beginning. 'We make architecture look incredible and help architects show their work in the best possible way,' he tells Wallpaper*. The founder of New York-based studio Orsman Design believes a 'great amount of success' comes out of a hands-on incorporation of lighting into an overall design vision. Therefore, it is not uncommon that he suggests placing a door further down the hallway for optimum natural light or moving a wall to hang art where it can best stand out at night time.

Orsman’s philosophy is rooted in his belief that 'light is about movement through a space'. The Australian-born designer’s recent Elle Mara Garage project in Sagaponack, New York, reflects this trust in illuminating interiors with both bold decisions and a fleeting tactility.

The true charm in lighting the private residence’s car garage and basketball court was the opportunity to orchestrate a feeling texturally different from interior designer Tony Ingrao’s white and creamy tones in the rest of the Hamptons house. The garage and the adjacent court, which are reached through a wine cellar, immediately pop with Orsman’s curation of sleek tones and cinematic lighting. 'We wanted to give this feeling of descending into a fully illuminated nightclubby set-up,' explains the designer, who does justice to his vision with resin-poured black walls and grey floors.

With his clients’ openness for something ‘completely unexpected [given] the rest of the house’, Orsman created a visceral sunken display room for seven cars, each crowned with a custom-stretched membrane light panel.

While these ceiling lights can be switched between cool and warm tones of white, a host of surface-mounted Ketra fixtures across the walls washes the dim interiors with painterly colours, ranging from a thick red to an energetic blue. This downlight system lets vehicles’ different finishes stand out with an elevated sculptural presence, whether a red Ferrari or a silver Benz. The ceiling lights yield a liquid, almost pond-like, illumination on the resin floor, as its surface dances between splashy hues of green and purple. 'We wanted to give the clients the ability to change the feeling of the space,' adds Orsman.

The basketball court, which is sunk even lower than the garage, expands this moody aura with sound-absorbing wall panelling in two shades of grey. The garage’s nocturnal atmosphere spills into the recreation area, where the hoop is illuminated with a dramatic series of ceiling fixtures. Pairs of disc-shaped lights that recall basketballs are held together with three stripes, similar to the boundary lines on a court’s floor. The bulletproof acrylic system, which is clipped into the ceiling with a magnetic receiver, is custom-produced by Italian company BlackLight.

The sleek project is one of many celebrated in Orsman’s upcoming Rizzoli book, Light: Illuminated Interiors and Architecture. The 320-page title tracks the designer’s trajectory of illuminating a wide span of homes across the United States, including those for Oprah Winfrey, Ina Garten, Stephen Colbert, Tommy Hilfiger, and Marc Jacobs, who penned the catalogue’s foreword.

The tome also documents Orsman’s trust in close collaborations with interior designers and architects, among them Wallpaper* US400 honoree Kelly Behun, Ashe Leandro, and Gil Schafer, to achieve nuanced touches of light. 'The powerful part in what we do is to pay attention to the negative space,' says Orsman. He adds: 'We have to be specific about what we are lighting up because sometimes less is more poignant.'

Light: Illuminated Interiors and Architecture comes out on September 29, 2026

With its world-class concert halls and galleries, peaceful fountain court and large foyers wrapped in textured raw concrete walls, London’s Barbican is a haven for arts, architecture and design fans. Now they will be able to bring home a slice of the brutalist landmark’s aesthetics, thanks to a furniture collection by Made and the Barbican, available to buy now

Built in 1982 on the largest Second World War bomb site in the City of London, the Barbican was designed by Chamberlin, Powell and Bon as both a cultural and residential complex, and the new 23-piece collection finds inspiration not only in the estate’s public spaces – such as the concert hall and raised walkways – but also in some of its original apartments.

Explore the Made x Barbican furniture and lighting collection

The design team at Made, a homeware brand that aims to make high-end design accessible, worked closely with the Barbican, Europe’s largest multi-arts centre, sifting through its archives and researching the pioneering world of designer Miriam Howitt, who was tasked with creating five show homes for the development in the late 1960s.

Inspired by her travels to Scandinavia and bold Dutch interiors, Howitt’s work shaped the project’s direction, and resulted in a range of furniture, lighting, textiles and accessories infused with architectural references to the Barbican’s unique visual language of sculptural forms, modular layouts, grid structures and curved silhouettes.

‘The ambition was to create a complete product range that works both in isolation and together in an open living space,’ says Made’s in-house design team. ‘The final designs reimagine products, graphics and architectural details through a new lens, and into a cohesive product range that captures Barbican living: bold, considered and inherently social.’

The Barbican’s concrete architecture is softened by a recurring motif of semi-circles, often upside down, which appears throughout the complex, from the sills of the podium windows and the top-floor penthouse roofs, to fountains, stair towers, and the shape of the Frobisher Crescent apartment building at the centre of the estate.

In the new furniture collection, these signature curves can be found in the wooden side panels of the ‘Dual’ accent chairs, whose silhouette recalls the estate’s concrete pillars; the ‘Plinth’ coffee table, inspired by the sunken seating pods found next to the Barbican lake; or the ‘Curve’ lamp series, which echoes the Concert Hall’s tubular acoustic panels.

As well as the pick-hammered textured concrete (a massive undertaking that took nearly 17 years from the start of construction to completion), another key element of the Barbican is its heavy coffered ‘waffle’ ceilings – a concrete-saving structural grid that also creates a great pattern in the Barbican’s indoor and outdoor spaces. Their rounded square shape is mirrored by the ‘Coffer’ series of ceiling lights and wall lights.

Also available are two sofa designs, a dining table and chairs, and a wooden sideboard in stained ash. The warm colour palette found in the lights and soft furnishings, including moss greens and burgundy hues, is similar to the one Howitt used in her show apartments.

Accessories include a graphic cushion featuring the Barbican’s ‘boat edge’ balconies, as well as the ‘Brute’ retro deep-pile rug in ochre tones and white stripes. ‘In 1967, Howitt anchored the Barbican’s plain off-white flats with “show-stopping” patterned carpets,’ explains the Made design team. ‘By using bold colours to create visual weight, she ensured the spacious rooms felt grounded instead of empty.’

To celebrate the launch of the collection, Made will be creating a free immersive installation at the Barbican Centre in partnership with London Design Festival this September. Located at the Barbican Level G Hub Space, it will shine a light into the archives of the Barbican and the inspiration behind the collection.

Meanwhile, the Barbican is currently on the lookout for a designer to reimagine a bespoke range of up to 500 pieces of furniture across its public spaces, as part of a complete overhaul timed for its 50th anniversary. The competition is open to anyone, and proposals must be submitted online by the end of the month. Expectations are high – the original designer of the Barbican furniture was none other than Robin Day.

The ‘Made x Barbican’ collection, with prices starting from £32, is available at Made.com now , with selected items also available at the Barbican Shop.

From English potter Bernard Leach to Japanese creative director NIGO and American artist Theaster Gates: these are some of the creators who resonate with Mingei. Wallpaper* guides you through what underpins Mingei and its enduring relevancy in contemporary society.

What is Mingei?

Mingei did not emerge all of a sudden. It is about recognizing the ‘beauty of utility’ in everyday objects that had long been crafted and used for daily life; these everyday items came to be called Mingei, and the Mingei movement arose to raise awareness and promote their value.

Mingei, an abbreviation for folk crafts in Japanese, is a neologism coined in 1925 by Japanese philosopher Sōetsu Yanagi – who felt empathy towards the ideas of British thinkers John Ruskin and William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement – together with potters Shoji Hamada and Kanjiro Kawai. In the early 20th century, as mass-produced, machine-made items began to spread through life in Japan, Yanagi referred to the simple, practical items created by anonymous artisans - using readily available materials to make useful tools for the people - as 'folk crafts mingei', and recognised in them a wholesome beauty free from ego of artist. The Mingei movement presented a new way of viewing objects and new aesthetic values.

The nine rules of Mingei

So, what are the characteristics that define mingei items? As defined by Yanagi: they need to be practical; they must be made by anonymous craftsmen, rather than by signed artists; they are produced in large quantities for widespread use; they demonstrate skilled craftsmanship honed through the accumulation of labour; as items need to be produced in large numbers, they are made through the division of labour among several artisans; they embody the craft and knowledge passed down from predecessors; they rely on external factors; they reveal the culture of terrain where they are made. Furthermore, they must be affordable so that ordinary people can purchase them. Such objects were produced in the vicinity of people’s daily lives in times when logistics were underdeveloped; naturally mingei items were made throughout Japan and across the world.

A home for Mingei: The Japan Folk Crafts Museum

The Japan Folk Crafts Museum, founded in Tokyo in 1936 by Souetsu Yanagi and others to widely disseminate the concept of mingei and present a new perspective on objects, houses a collection of approximately 17,000 items gathered through the lens of Yanagi. The museum showcases works from Japan, China, Korea, Taiwan and the United Kingdom, represented in the works of ceramics, woodwork, dyed textiles, paintings, metalwork, basketry and stonework, all of which illustrate how folk art arises from everyday life across the globe.

In particular, in Japan – a country stretching long from north to south with climatic differences between regions – lifestyles vary from region to region, and mingei artefacts were created to meet the specific needs of each area. It is also worth noting that many of these traditional crafts still thrive in Japan today. A major factor in this can be attributed to the country’s long-standing policy of national isolation.

From 1639 to 1854 during the Edo period, Japan implemented a policy of national isolation, virtually severing trade and exchange with the rest of the world. By doing so, the ruler sought to limit foreign influence, to make governance of the country easier, and establish a distinct Japanese identity.

Thanks to this policy of minimising foreign influence, industrialisation, which had already begun in the West, was significantly delayed in Japan, for better or for worse. Whereas the UK had pioneered industrialisation in the 18th century, industrialisation had not even begun in Japan. Japan was not yet modernised. Consequently, it can be said that traditional crafts have survived for a long time in Japan.

However, once the Edo period’s policy of national isolation came to an end, the newly established Meiji government rushed to modernise, taking the West as its model, in order to become a modern country. Industrialisation, standardisation and efficiency were essential for modern society. It was against this backdrop of industrialisation in Japan, and mass-produced goods were gradually permeating everyday life, that mingei was coined. In other words, it was an era in which craft was on the transitional stage of being replaced by industry.

The role of Mingei today

Naoto Fukawasa, one of the world’s most influential industrial designers of today and the Director of the Japan Folk Arts Museum, says: ‘I recognise that there is an important relationship between Mingei and design. I do not believe that the role of a contemporary designer is to express oneself, as an artist does. The role of design is to create functional objects that serve everyday life, and design emerges from various factors, such as local materials and local culture. I believe that this approach to design resonates with the spirit that underlies Mingei objects.’

As Fukasawa suggests, many designers, including those from overseas, visit the Museum as a must-see destination in Tokyo, suggesting that there is much to be learnt from Mingei now. ‘Tasks will likely be replaced by technologies such as AI. We can leave the task to AI. However, I believe people are drawn to the uncontrollable elements such as inconsistencies that arise from human hands and cannot be replicated by machines,’ he adds.

Among the museum’s collection, one of Fukasawa’s favourites is a ceramic brazier that fishermen would cradle between their legs whilst on a cold fishing boat. It would be possible to replicate the same object today. However, the thoughtfulness behind the original invention of the brazier - care to keep the body warm whilst at sea - is perhaps something only a human being could have conceived.

The Japan Folk Crafts Museum
4-3-33 Komaba, Meguro-ku, Tokyo

Hye the Store, a boutique celebrating the best of South Korean and Asian craft and creativity, has just opened in Copenhagen’s Nordhavn. It’s a welcome addition to a revitalised northern harbourside district already home to design destinations including The Audo boutique hotel, Gubi and Kvadrat showrooms, BIG’s headquarters and JAJA Architects’ Park’n’Play – a red playground perched on the rooftop of a giant car park.

A serene space surrounded by contemporary buildings, Hye Store was opened last June in a red-brick warehouse by Hyeyoung Hwang, a former Seoul-based editor with a longstanding interest in South Korean and Japanese craft. The minimalist space brings together craft, design objects, apparel and accessories from all around Asia, with a focus on independent makers and small brands.

‘Living with Korean and Japanese objects has brought many small moments of pleasure to my own daily life, and I wanted to share that experience with others,’ says Hwang. ‘These are beautiful, functional pieces made by people who work quietly and with great dedication in their own workshops.’

Hye’s debut collection showcased the work of 15 South Korean artists and brands, such as Taesoo Kim’s traditional sabal bowls; Studio EAEA’s gently curved cherry wood cutting boards; CYS’ rounded stainless steel cutlery; as well as the hand-carved pieces of Korean woodworkers Kyungwon Hwang and Hongjun Park, whose creations perfectly reflect the boutique’s approach: ‘Their work has soft, organic forms, feels comfortable to use, and brings a calm, understated beauty to a space,’ says Hwang.

One of the objects that receives the most attention and questions in the shop at the moment is the ‘Mosi’ moon jar by Artbo Studio, founded by Los Angeles-based Korean artist Yejin Shin. The handmade textile art object is crafted from mosi, a traditional Korean ramie fabric, and can be displayed as a sculptural tabletop object or used as a small vase.

‘As a Korean, the moon jar shape is very familiar to me,’ says Hwang. ‘What I find especially interesting is seeing those people who may not know the history behind it, or who are encountering it for the first time, feel instinctively drawn to it. It shows how a traditional form can be reinterpreted in a contemporary context and still resonate across cultures.’

Hwang’s focus is clearly on beautiful, quiet objects from Asia that can find a natural place in European daily life: ‘When I select products from Korea and other parts of Asia, I always consider how naturally they might fit into homes and everyday life beyond Asia. Beauty is important, of course, but I am equally drawn to objects and products that are practical, tactile, and easy to live with.’

As well as crafts and homeware, the boutique presents apparel and accessories by brands such as Oy, and unique collaborations with Asian artisans. Hwang will also soon introduce Hye’s own original designs, made in South Korea; the first to launch this year will be placemats and coasters made from traditional mosi (ramie) and sambe (hemp) fabrics.

‘Alongside these product launches, I hope to continue creating experiences around the objects we introduce, through tea gatherings, dinners, and other events,’ she says. ‘I hope people discover not only the objects themselves, but also the rituals, atmosphere, and ways of living that surround them.’

Building long-lasting relationships with creatives is key: Hwang selects each piece after taking the time to speak with each maker, to learn about their process and the stories behind their creations. The selected objects might even help you see your home and daily routine differently, says Hwang: ‘We believe in the power of ordinary items to inspire your daily life, making every moment a little more meaningful.’

Århusgade 128H, Copenhagen

Search for the hashtag #typographictourism, and you'll find an informal travelogue dedicated to the lost art of signwriting. Images from across Europe, often in bespoke colourful fonts or hand-painted onto façades, business names rendered in imaginative designs. They come from Yorgo Tloupas, a French-Greek creative director with a passion for both typography (having authored several typefaces himself through his studio, Yorgo & co) and travel.

Here, Tloupas tells us of his passion, or rather obsession, for the fine, lost art of sign typography.

Some tourists travel to find the best poolside loungers, some to visit the most ancient archaeological sites; I tend to aim for the ultimate vernacular signage. My partner has become used to holiday strolls interrupted by the need to capture typographic marvels above aging stores.

A disappearing craft

From Northern Italy to the Yucatán Peninsula, the disappearing craft of independent shop branding has been a mild obsession for years. Why is that craft on the wane? How and when did a staple of all human settlements since Pompeii face extinction? Blame Steve Jobs.

The rise of personal computing, more precisely the advent of vector graphics software in the late 1980s and early 1990s, rang the death knell for local artisans drawing letter shapes on the facades of businesses, and accelerated the demise of masterful graphic artists who were the only ones able to design word marks precisely.

Suddenly your local barber could simply open MacDraw, type 'Grateful Dreads' (a real hair salon in Ann Arbor, MI), choose one of the available fonts, and send the file to the local printer, who’ll apply it to a sad piece of white PVC.

Gone were the meticulously proportioned letters made for the exact width of the façade, built in extruded metal, stone, or wood. Today, most high streets from Reykjavik to Nairobi are inundated by typographic horrors applied in the cheapest manner possible.

Stumbling upon early 20th-century pictures of Downtown Kingston in New York State recently reminded me of the infinite wealth of typographic skills that was the norm before the Mac computer gave everyone the possibility to create their own signs. An equivalent would be the advent of a machine that would allow you to design and build your car at the click of a mouse. I dread to imagine the visual mess that would result - or not.

Typographic tourism: the search for a lost art

My travels today are a mix of despair and awe. Provincial French towns have become a no-go zone for design-sensitive minds, attacked on one side by the global chains with their varying degrees of quality (thank you, Burger King, for bringing back your classic pre-swoosh logo), and on the other side by family-owned bookstores using the Papyrus typeface (made famous by Ryan Gosling's legendary Saturday Night Live sketch) and kebab eateries using as many colours, gradients and shiny effects in their name as are possibly available.

In brutal contrast, here and there survive signs with singular letterforms and elaborate construction. Turin and Genoa are still packed with beautiful neon logos in geometric script typefaces. Shops in Mérida and Campeche in Mexico are, for now, mostly using hand-painted signs, although the Mexican authorities are pushing a law to eradicate the vernacular beauties known as rótulos.

Photographing and archiving these endangered graphic species under the moniker typographictourism has become both a pleasure and a responsibility. And all hope is not lost, as the vast majority of hip bars and matcha shops worldwide now seem to be paying extra attention to their bespoke logos and fancy signs. The signage renaissance is under way.

Announced today (12 August), Ikea’s latest collection seeks to answer some pretty lofty questions: what is art, what can it do and why does it matter? Called ‘Konstrunda’, the collection – available now – includes 22 decorative objects, textiles and furniture pieces by seven artists and designers, whose brief was to bring art into the home.

Using the words ‘liberated, happy and fearless’ as a guide, Andu Masebo, Lisa Hilland, Igor Holtermann, Ingrid Leander Berg, Emanuele Stamuli, Lisa Reiser and Akanksha Deo have come up with a collection of adventurous pieces – mostly vessels and decorative objects that you could imagine displayed on a plinth in an art gallery, but also intriguing textiles and small pieces of furniture with out-of-the-ordinary forms and finishes.

To create ‘Konstrunda’, Ikea creative leader Karin Gustavsson says she deliberately chose people working across different disciplines and with a variety of materials and techniques. ‘Some are people I've worked with for years, while others I discovered through their exhibitions or by following their work,’ she explains. ‘“Konstrunda” is rooted in a belief that art should be accessible. Rather than focusing on a specific format, the collection invites multiple interpretations of what art in the home can be.’

In ‘Konstrunda’, those interpretations range from Swedish designer Lisa Reiser’s decorative tabletop objects, with their futuristic, fluid forms realised in glossy lacquered glass, to Andu Masebo’s tubular steel side tables and lacquered pine stools, alongside a doughnut-shaped vessel in mirror-polished stainless steel.

Akanksha Deo has created a series of ‘companion’ pieces, while Emanuele Stamuli has contributed black-and-white objects based on graphic, totemic forms. Swedish designers Igor Holtermann and Ingrid Leander Berg have applied overlapping palm motifs to cotton cushion covers, a rug and a mirror.

One of the most high profile names among the cohort is London designer Andu Masebo (recognised as a Future Icon by Wallpaper* back in December 2022), whose recent projects include bespoke furniture for TOG’s sustainable Black & White Building, modular tables for AHEC, an exhibition of birdhouses at the South London Gallery and a live design-research project for London Design Festival 2025. His pieces for the ‘Konstrunda’ collection translate a design language already established through that wider practice into objects available at an Ikea price point. He sees his objects for Ikea as prompts for customers to exercise their own creativity.

‘What I love about these objects the most is that they create the potential for the creativity of others in the home,’ he tells Wallpaper*. ‘Surfaces that naturally invite decoration, objects that reflect their environment and that change depending on what's arranged around and in them. Art isn't just an object, it's also an action.’

Trained in carpentry, metalwork and ceramics, Masebo has said in the past that his hands-on involvement in the making process has naturally led him to design objects with an air of honesty or truth to them – or, as he puts it, ‘things that engage with how they are made and that lean more into feelings than aesthetics’. The collaboration with Ikea has tapped into this inclination, showing up in his material and finishing choices, which he has kept deliberately simple ‘so that the making wouldn’t involve any unnecessary processes’.

For visual artist and in-house Ikea designer Akanksha Deo, whose playful work references Indian textile traditions, the pieces she has created for ‘Konstrunda’ are not just objects, but something closer to friends. They include ‘The Melting Pot’, a highly polished stainless steel vessel squeezed into itself. ‘The Custodian’ – a stack of building blocks with a mirrored centre – draws on the wooden toys of Channapatna, a small town in Karnataka, India, known for generations of turned-wood craftsmanship. ‘It watches over your space when you’re gone, and sits quietly with you when you’re home,’ she says. Meanwhile, ‘Confetti Carol’ – the name given to a hanging tapestry made from blue recycled polyester – exists simply to bring a little optimism into a room.

‘Growing up, I watched how easily reverence finds its way into small things: a stone placed on a windowsill, a leaf kept for no reason, a carved figure given a name,’ she reflects. ‘There’s something in us that wants to believe an object can hold more than its material, that it can watch, remember, protect.’

For Deo, bringing art into the home should be something joyful and even a little humorous. ‘Life is genuinely not that serious, and design that pretends otherwise tends to be exhausting to be around. A little levity goes a long way. We could all use more of it, frankly.’

For Ikea, ‘Konstrunda’ also feels like a further push into the territory of collectible design – something its experimental Ikea ‘PS’ collections and collaborations with designers including Gustaf Westman and Ilse Crawford have edged towards in the past, with some pieces later becoming sought-after on the secondary market. ‘Konstrunda’ brings some of the experimentation, individual authorship and art-object quality associated with collectible design into the realm of mass production.

‘We can bring distinctive art objects into people's homes at a scale very few others can,’ reflects Gustavsson. ‘For me personally, working at the intersection of art and mass production has been one of the most rewarding parts of this project. It was a constant balance between preserving the creative vision and finding innovative ways to produce it for the many.’

‘Konstrunda’ available worldwide now. Browse the full collection.

When The Weeknd brings After Hours Til Dawn to Wembley Stadium for five nights from 14 August, London will receive the latest version of a tour world that has been mutating since 2022. Under Swedish-Greek artist and scenographer Alexander Wessely, its post-apocalyptic cityscape has become a four-act architecture of collapse: a stadium-scale world where physical set, LED wall, light and smoke form a city that ages, fractures and outlives its performer.

‘The first city was still standing. This one is falling apart while you watch it,’ Wessely tells Wallpaper*. ‘The fracture isn’t a look, it’s the story told through the architecture itself.’ The image that unlocked this version was not a skyline, a screen treatment or a piece of pop iconography, but Abel Tesfaye rising from ash in darkness, caught in slow strobes, ‘coming up out of nothing’. From there, Wessely began thinking in ruins, classical fragments and archaeological remains – broken things with greater presence than complete ones. The stadium becomes an excavated future: sacred, abandoned and, as he puts it, ‘closer to a cathedral than a stage’.

Light is central to Wessely’s vernacular. His route into scenography passed through photography, and he still treats light as a way of giving objects physical consequence, not just visibility. ‘The screen builds images, but light builds mass,’ he says. ‘It’s what gives the real objects on that stage their weight and their volume, what makes them feel like something you could touch rather than something projected.’ Nothing here is lit flat. Every beam, shadow and surface is shaped so the physical world can hold its own against the scale of the screen.

Across the show’s chapters, the set and LED wall are made to blur until the seam disappears. The screen becomes the city continuing past the limits of steel, light and stage engineering. At its centre sits Hajime Sorayama’s patinated steel figure – chrome body, machine idol, relic from a civilisation that, as Wessely says, ‘mistook the machine for a god’.

Ahead of The Weeknd’s Wembley dates, Wallpaper* spoke to Wessely about designing collapse at stadium scale, making light behave like architecture, and giving an artist’s private descent a city the audience can stand inside.

Alexander Wessely on his apocalyptic set design for The Weeknd

Wallpaper*: After Hours Til Dawn began in 2022 with a post-apocalyptic cityscape. This latest chapter feels darker and more fractured. How has the set evolved since that first iteration, and did it need to age with the trilogy?

Alexander Wessely: This is a trilogy about a man losing himself, so the world can’t stay the same from start to finish; it has to carry the same damage he does. The set ages the way he ages. It starts whole, and it ends in ash. That’s more or less the whole idea. The fracture isn’t a look; it’s the story told through the architecture itself.

W*: How does the creative conversation work between you, Abel and La Mar Taylor?

AW: La Mar co-founded XO with Abel and has been his creative director from the very beginning, so he’s shaped this world alongside him for years. He’s the show director across all of this, and this was our first full-on collaboration, a real dialogue rather than a handoff. La Mar and I have gotten closer ever since the Coachella headline show we did in 2022, working together more and more. A lot of the show comes from Abel himself, real things from the past couple of years, fighting his demons in very personal ways. He sets the emotional truth of it, and we build the world that holds it. The best moments are the ones none of us could have reached alone. My job is to give the feeling an architecture, to turn what he’s living through into a space you can stand inside.

W*: Were there any key architectural decisions that shaped how the audience experiences the show?

AW: Scale, and where you put the human inside it. Everything was built so you feel the size of the world before you find the man in it. We used set extensions so the physical architecture keeps going past what your eye can actually verify, and at some point the stadium itself starts to feel like part of the ruin.

W*: What are the visual cues that distinguish each chapter of the tour – colour, pace, light, atmosphere – and how do they guide the audience through the story?

AW: Each chapter has its own state of collapse and its own temperature. The peak is gold, monumental, slow, worship at its highest. The middle fractures, colder, faster, the image breaking apart. The end strips it all back to a single figure in near silence. The colour and the pace carry the descent, so you never have to tell the audience where they are in the story. They feel the fall in the light before they’d ever read it.

W*: Where does the physical set end and the digital world begin? Is the LED wall a surface, a horizon, or a second stage? What can the screen say that the physical stagecraft cannot?

AW: The whole point is you shouldn’t be able to tell. That’s what excites me, that blur between what’s real and what’s not, practical or digital. It’s the same thing I chased at Sphere Las Vegas. The physical set is built to bleed into the screen, so the seam disappears and you lose the horizon. The wall isn’t a backdrop; it’s the world continuing past what you can actually build. What the screen does, that steel and light can’t, is change scale in a second. It can turn Abel into a giant and then into dust before you’ve caught up. The physical stuff gives you weight and truth. The screen gives you transformation. You need both, or the fall doesn’t feel real.

W*: The show is built around a vast urban landscape in collapse. How do you design a city that is meant to fall apart?

AW: You build it in stages. The city moves through different states of ruin across the night, so the audience isn’t looking at a collapse; they’re moving through one. The important part is that it has to start from something big enough that losing it matters. If the city didn’t feel monumental first, watching it come apart wouldn’t do anything. So a lot of the work early on was making it feel solid and real, so that when it starts breaking down later you actually feel the loss of it.

W*: How did you think about Abel’s body against that scale? Is he swallowed by the world, directing it, or surviving it?

AW: All three, and in that order. He starts vast, a giant at the peak of his own worship, gold, untouchable. Then the world turns on him, and he glitches, damaged, not in control of his own image anymore. And, by the end, he’s back to human scale, one to one, and then he’s gone. That arc of his body against the architecture is the whole story for me. He’s worshipped, then swallowed, then reduced to just a man, and the world outlives him.

W*: How closely do the lighting, effects and screen environments respond to the music? Are there any songs that demanded their own visual world outside the wider narrative?

AW: The whole environment is scored to the music; it breathes with it instead of sitting behind it, and, in some moments, breaks out of the wider story completely and demands its own world. A show this long needs moments that stop the narrative and hold you somewhere else for a minute before the fall keeps going. Abel’s catalogue makes that easy in one way and brutal in another, because the music already tells his life, so you’re working visually against ten years of that. It’s tough competition, honestly.

W*: Hajime Sorayama’s sculpture is central to the tour’s visual identity. It feels futuristic, weathered, erotic and almost archaeological. How important was that tension between machine, relic and body?

AW: That tension is the whole thing. Sorayama’s work sits exactly where mine does, between the machine and the body, the future and the ruin. His sculpture reads as something worshipped or dug up, a relic from a civilisation that mistook the machine for a god. I met him in Tokyo, and the language was immediate; we’re both circling the same question: what does the human worship when it doesn’t know what it believes anymore? The chrome body at the centre of the show is that question, made monumental.

alexanderwessely.com

‘The main purpose of my work is to provoke people into using their imagination,’ Verner Panton once said. Among his many colourful and fun-filled creations is a series of animal-shaped, modular sculptures now being reissued by Swiss furniture company Vitra (maker of the ‘Panton’ chair since the 1960s), as part of celebrations marking the centenary of the great Danish designer and architect’s birth.

The series takes its cues from Panton’s ‘Pantonaef’ system, produced by Swiss toy manufacturer Naef in the 1970s, which comprised elements that could be clipped together to construct a variety of different structures. Although mostly designed for adults, this system may well have inspired the later craze for the Rubik Snake and its millions of plastic fidget-toy offspring.

In collaboration with Verner Panton Design, Vitra has developed the ‘Panton Cubes’, a re-edition of Panton’s design classics in kit form. It includes four animal sculptures: a duck, a flamingo, a cat and a giraffe. Each kit contains the elements needed to construct the respective animal figure, and, as Panton wished, whichever shapes and combinations our imagination can come up with – the possibilities are endless.

‘The “Panton Cubes” are a wonderful addition to Vitra’s Verner Panton collection and highlight a lesser-known aspect of his work,’ says Stine Liv Buur, design manager of Classics at Vitra. ‘They demonstrate his playful exploration of geometry, colour and reflection, while translating these ideas into sculptural objects that invite interaction and imagination.’

The modular system consists of square frames that are assembled to form cubes, which are then linked with clips and fitted with coloured or chrome panels to create patterns and volumes. Whereas the original versions came in a matte finish, the re-editions feature glossy surfaces in a chrome finish or duo-tone colour combination, all based on Panton’s original colour choice and developed in close collaboration with Verner Panton Design AG.

‘At Vitra, we believe that colour has the power to influence mood and shape the way we experience our surroundings – a conviction that Verner Panton championed throughout his career,’ says Buur. ‘With their mirrored and glossy surfaces, the “Panton Cubes” interact with light, colour and space in a way that feels as engaging and inspiring today as when Panton first conceived them.’

The ‘Panton Cubes’ will be launched at the London Design Festival (12-20 September 2026) at Tramshed, Vitra’s London showroom in Shoreditch. New pieces by Berlin-based Studio Œ, Erwan Bouroullec, Edward Barber and Jay Osgerby, and Panter & Tourron will also be unveiled.

Archival versions of the 'Panton Cubes' are currently on display at ‘Verner Panton: Form, Colour, Space’ (until 9 May 2027), a comprehensive survey of Panton’s work at the Vitra Design Museum’s Schaudepot near Basel.

Having frequented the optometrist for the past 25 years, it is hard not to notice the lack of inspiring interiors. Often greeted with two options: a moody space with ironically poor lighting and dingy carpets, or it is brightly lit, white, and clinical space; either doesn’t inspire the desire to have one's eyesight corrected. However, Wink offers something completely different. Spearheaded by Mitchell Zurek and Andy Kelly of Brud Studia the interior of the Australia-based optometrist feels like coming home.

‘Optical stores have always felt to me like the waiting room of a very wealthy dentist,’ says Andy Kelly, one half of the studio. ‘Everything is intimidating, and you're expected to make a very serious decision about your face in front of a stranger. They can be beautiful, but they're rarely relaxed. We wanted to make somewhere people forgot they were shopping altogether. Somewhere that invited leaning. Somewhere you wanted to sit, drink a coffee, open a drawer.’

The optometrist in Elwood, Melbourne, marks the duo's first retail interior project under Brud Studia. However, they wanted to create an environment which stepped away from behaving like a traditional retail space. Instead, they created a character.

Zurek and Kelly wanted to create a space where it felt like you were stepping inside someone else's world for half an hour. ‘Every decision was simply asking what our character would have done.’

They looked at the old English nursery rhyme, There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe, ‘except this time she lived inside her glasses case, which itself lived inside a Simone Rocha egg clutch,’ Kelly shares. ‘She was part Iris Apfel, part impossibly glamorous grandmother. She tears bread without ever crushing it. Every object she has arrived through circumstance rather than shopping. She collected beautiful things but couldn't remember where she'd found half of them. Every surface held another story. Every drawer concealed another treasure; nothing matched, and somehow everything belonged together.’

Much like their worldly character, the interiors are well travelled, with references dancing between Milan apartments, 70s New York, and Australia’s suburbia influenced by European sensibilities. A retail counter was replaced with a kitchen, with a central island at the core of the space, as Kelly shares, ‘Counters separate people. Kitchens bring them together. The island asks clients to gather around it rather than stand opposite. It changes the entire rhythm of the space.’

Inside, the interior is complete with stainless steel, block colours, and timber joinery. Collectible design objects punctuate the space. It's an amalgamation of texture and tones, yet feels entirely cohesive, without a central piece fighting for attention. ‘Retail interiors often feel obligated to announce themselves immediately, but we were far more interested in creating a space that revealed itself gradually,’ explains the studio founders.

‘Even the boldest gestures, like the lacquered red cabinetry, exist within a deliberately domestic scale. There are tiny mosaic tiles underfoot, small drawers to open, carefully considered handles, mirrors that catch unexpected reflections, and lighting that quietly punctuates the room rather than dominates it. Nothing exists simply to be photographed. The experience unfolds slowly, rewarding curiosity rather than demanding your immediate attention.’

Glasses occupy a funny place in our lives, as they allow you to try out different versions of yourself and how you want to present yourself to the world. Kelly and Zurek agree: ‘They're practical objects, of course, but they're also one of life's great disguises. A new pair of glasses quietly permits you to become someone else. Wink is, technically speaking, an optometrist. But with the right frames and a hurried box of black hair dye applied in a petrol station bathroom, she's retail in witness protection.’

With many reflective materials from mirrors to the industrial mesh ceiling, each new glimpse offers another version of the space. ‘In an optometrist, you're constantly looking at yourself. Rather than disguising that fact, we exaggerated it.’ There is a disguised tension. And perhaps that is rather fitting.

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1970s Italian design is having a moment: from little-known furniture pieces to legendary design experiments, lighting and even bathroom taps, the year's new launches were punctuated by reissues of pieces that help paint a picture of this unsung decade in Italian design.

The 1970s in Italian design were largely defined by 'Italy: the new domestic landscape', a 1972 MoMA exhibition that reflected on the country's culmination of creative excellence following the industrial boom that represented the post-WWII period in design. It was a look at Italian design at a time when Italian design was reviewing itself.

Italian design critic Paola Antonelli, the MoMA's Senior Curator of Architecture and Design, drew a comparison between the political and social turmoil of the decade, and the current times of uncertainty. Antonelli noted how designers in the 1970s (and those taking part in the MoMA exhibition in particular) represented 'a culture that was really worried about the future of society. It's really interesting to see how designs that stemmed from a complicated moment are now being celebrated with nostalgia.

'Italian design has always been great: it was fabulous in the 50s. It was even better in the 60s, and in the 70s, was still great, but with this undertone of anxiety.'

Antonelli also explains how the evolution of Italian design throughout the second half of the last century took projects beyond their aesthetic and functionality, but made them part of a bigger domestic ecosystem (something the exhibition documented well and can be found in examples such as Joe Colombo's Total Furnishing Unit. 'It was a moment of real fervour,' concludes Antonelli. 'It had to do not with products, but rather with new ways of life. '

Great 1970s Italian design reissued for contemporary interiors

Cigno chair by Vittorio Varo, for Visionnaire

Originally conceived in the early 1970s for Visionnaire's parent company IPE, the Cigno chair by Vittorio Varo was fittingly chosen to furnish 'Déjà-Vu', a listening room curated by Marco Morandini during Milan Design Week 2026, that celebrated the decade's cultural spirit through design and music.

Parioli Cabinet by Lodovico Acerbis

A 1971 design by Acerbis founder Lodovico Acerbis, Parioli is a piece that brings architectural modularity to storage furniture. The wooden structure (in ash or walnut) disappears behind the geometry of satin stainless steel doors, whose design define the design with an expressive aesthetic informed by rigour and movement.

Sintesi by Ernesto Gismondi for Artemide

The first Artemide lamp designed by founder Ernesto Gismondi, the Sintesi brings the bare functionality that defined 1970s Italian design to the fore. A few essential components define its design, that is both practical and versatile, with two profiles that intersect to create a standing lighting object (and a wall version based on the same system). 'It’s like a magic formula and finding it is never guaranteed,' said its creator.

Alcinoo by Gae Aulenti for Artemide

Gae Aulenti's 1975 design for Artemide merges an appreciation for artisanal techniques (the mouth blown glass sphere) with an industrial language (the metal cylinder holding it). A sculptural home for an essential lighting idea, the lamp is a shell for three lightbulbs set at its base. 'It was tough, Gae has strong ideas (...)' Artemide founder Ernesto Gismondi recalled. 'And the moment you switch the lamp on, you realise she was right: the character fills the room with tiny traces of light.

T35 Trio by Pierangelo Gallotti

The 1970s marked a turning point for Italian glass brand Gallotti e Radice, who celebrated their 70th anniversary at Milan Design Week this year. In 1975, it developed a method of joining panes of glass with a simple stainless steel joint, enabling larger and more structurally complex pieces, such as the ‘T35 Trio' – a three-part coffee table set designed by Pierangelo Gallotti in 1975 – now presented in an anniversary edition in bronze-tinted tempered glass and brushed silver travertine. Text: Laura May Todd

Papero by Cini Boeri for Codiceicona

Cini Boeri's Papero was conceived in 1971 and reflects the experimental approach to craft and industrial design that defined the decade. Shaped as a duck (from which it borrows its name), the lamp features two impact-resistant opal polystyrene pieces connected by a chrome-plated steel plate with a black PVC profile.

Fachiro by Marzio Cecchi for Gufram

Marzio Cecchi's 1975 Fachiro for Gufram reflects the more playful end of the decade's design spectrum. Harsh looking but definitely comfortable to sit on thanks to the soft leather construction, the design is informed by the work of Cecchi's couturier mother and his ongoing observations of nature, and how it can dialogue with design.

Pallino by Elio Martinelli

A 1970s design by Elio Martinelli, Pallino is both playful and minimal. Dubbed 'a curious lamp' from its creator, the design of Pallino brings to mind an inquisitive character taking a peek at whoever is on the other side. 'Reintroducing Pallino means bringing back into today’s homes a touch of the formal lightness and chromatic boldness that made Italian design great,' comments Emiliana Martinelli, President of Martinelli Luce. 'It means choosing an object with a story to tell, one that still looks ahead together with those who own it.'

Joe Colombo for Mamoli

Joe Colombo's design was firmly rooted in the idea that 'all the objects needed in a house should be integrated with the usable spaces; hence, they no longer ought to be called furnishings but ‘equipment.’ His Total Furnishing Unit was originally presented at the exhibition 'Italy: The New Domestic Landscape' and among a bigger design idea for domestic living, it introduced the humble tap not just as accessory, but as 'an integral part of both the space and the domestic experience'. Mamoli's reissue of the tap design is only slightly updated for modern use, and reflects Colombo's idea of a home based on functionality.

‘For decades, the funeral industry has offered families generic products with little regard for individuality or design,’ says Urn Studios co-founder Merel Swart. Founded in 2024, the platform is reimagining memorial objects as thoughtful pieces that reflect the lives they commemorate. Building on their success in the UK, they have now introduced their first collection in the US.

Discover Urn Studios' US collection

‘Since launching Urn Studios, we’ve seen strong demand from customers in the US, so creating a dedicated collection with American artists felt like a natural next step,’ says co-founder Jonathan Hancock.

For this collection, the UK-based studio invited seven American artists to reinterpret the urn as an object of identity, intimacy and enduring design. Abbey Peters, C.C. Boyce, Hui-Yong Kim, Jesse Hamerman, Marianna Jamadi, Michelle Wen and Philip Kupferschmidt were all selected for their distinctive approach to form, craft and materiality. ‘We chose artists whose work feels contemporary, characterful and original,’ Swart explains.

California-based Philip Kupferschmidt of PK Ceramics created vessels animated by raised droplets and tactile glazes. Meanwhile, Brooklyn-born ceramicist Michelle Wen produced forms that reference historic ceramic traditions. Others, such as Hui-Yong Kim, explored a more sculptural, pared-back approach, while Marianna Jamadi of Kunokaiku designed a minimalist sculptural item that smartly integrates candles and flowers.

‘The collection is intentionally eclectic, bringing together pieces that express individuality while offering a fresh perspective on what an urn can be’, notes Hancock. Across the collection, bold handles, unexpected silhouettes, and irregular surfaces transform memorial objects into expressive celebrations of life.

‘What united the collection wasn’t a particular style, but a shared departure from the traditional idea of an urn’, says Hancock. By making contemporary options more visible and accessible, the studio hopes to broaden public understanding of what an urn can look like and the role it can play within the home.

‘Many people still aren’t aware that alternatives exist, because traditional, conventional memorial products remain the default’, adds Swart. Urn Studios also rejects the idea that empathetic design requires visual restraint. ‘We don’t see emotional sensitivity and bold design as being in conflict. If anything, we’d argue that the opposite is often true,’ says Hancock.

Looking ahead, the studio plans to expand its artist collaborations while also developing its first in-house range. ‘Together, these collections will allow us to offer an even broader spectrum of contemporary memorial design’, says Swart. This growth will enable the platform to offer an increasingly diverse range of options that reflect personal tastes, stories, and approaches to remembrance.

Ultimately, Urn Studios’ US collection demonstrates how thoughtful, expressive design can approach grief with care while moving beyond the conventional visual language often associated with memorial objects. The range reimagines the urn not simply as a vessel for ashes, but as a creative object through which a person’s memory and story live on.

This is the latest instalment of The Inside Story, Wallpaper’s series spotlighting intriguing, innovative and industry-leading interior design.

Good things come in small packages – and this 80-square-metre apartment in Madrid's Malasaña district, reimagined by London- and Mallorca-based studio Archive for Space, proves it. The home feels historical, contemporary and ‘grandmotherly’ all at once. On paper, those elements shouldn't coexist; in practice, they do.

For co-founders Arabella Maza and Stephen Maginn, the project was guided by a wish to preserve the apartment's early twentieth-century bones while layering in contemporary interventions. Malasaña itself offered a reference point – a neighbourhood of ornate façades, independent vintage stores, late-night bars and bohemian spirit. Restored plaster cornices, decorative ceiling medallions and original timber shutters all pay tribute to that heritage.

During the renovation, the designers uncovered treasure beneath the old carpet: the apartment's original terracotta flooring. Restored and patched, the tiles shift from checkerboard to diamond motifs, becoming both a practical foundation and conceptual anchor for the project.

Recreate the mood

Against this earthy backdrop, polished stainless steel introduces an industrial precision. Maza has described the aesthetic as ‘a grandmother in latex’ – rather vivid shorthand for a space willing to challenge convention without losing its warmth.

Its position within a shared building ruled out major alterations to its envelope. Instead, the studio leaned on spatial efficiency and material continuity to turn a long, narrow footprint into a home with two bedrooms, two en-suite bathrooms and a generous central kitchen. Living spaces occupy the street-facing rooms, while the bedrooms and bathrooms wrap around an internal patio.

At the heart of the plan sits the kitchen – our favourite space. Cool steel, used for the countertops and integrated appliances, pairs irresistibly with softly gathered linen skirting below, while rough plaster walls and the restored floors add tactility. The circular extractor hood, custom-designed by the studio, deserves a mention too – it reads more like a sculptural object than an appliance.

That dialogue between softness and structure continues in the living room, where a restored ceiling medallion and a loose-covered sofa sit alongside a vintage floral armchair, stainless-steel coffee table and the charming Pea Head Lamp by Six Dots Design. In the primary bedroom, a cross-stitched floral textile stands in for a headboard, adding another handmade touch.

The bedroom also embraces one of our favourite design moves: floor-to-ceiling drapery. Here, the curtains separate the room from its en-suite – an unconventional solution born of spatial constraints. The bathrooms depart from the creamy palette found elsewhere, wrapped in glossy black tiles with chrome fittings and veined Calacatta marble.

It would have been easy to overplay the contrasts – forcing the floral armchair against shiny metal, or leaning too nostalgic with the buttery yellow walls. Instead, this is an apartment that knows exactly when to make a statement and when to step back – making it, in our estimation, very close to perfect.

Earlier this year, it was announced that Italian architect Michele De Lucchi would take on the position of Creative Director at Triennale Milano, under Vincenzo Trione's new presidency. A role which he will serve alongside that of Design Curator and Director of the Design Museum, and as part of a scientific committee that includes Manuela Lucà-Dazio who will oversee architecture; and Andrea Villani, on contemporary art.

An architect and designer, De Lucchi studied Architecture at the University of Florence, graduating in 1975, and was a prominent exponent of the Radical Architecture movement, as well as being a co-founder of the Memphis Group. Through his work for objects, furniture, and buildings, he has embodied an ever-evolving point of view on design.

Wallpaper* speaks to De Lucchi to explore his vision for Milan's most important design institution, looking at its past to shape a vision for the future.

Michele De Lucchi at Triennale Milano

Wallpaper*: Today we will talk about your new role at Triennale, but first I wanted to take a step back. What is your first memory of Triennale?

Michele De Lucchi: I have a long history with the Triennale; it actually began back in 1973 during all the youth unrest of that era. I was an architecture student in Florence and I was drawn to those protests. Even though I always kept an architect's mindset and never actually crossed over into the world of politics, I viewed those movements as a challenge, a provocation directed at architects. So at the opening of that Triennale, I showed up dressed as a Napoleonic general to stage a performance. I wanted to highlight the all-encompassing role (far more powerful than we imagined back then) of the designer as a creator: a creator and shaper of social life and people's lives.

W*: What statement did you want to make?

MDL: The general embodied the idea of someone who insinuates themselves into people's lives through designs, objects, spaces, theories, and imagery. Essentially, I was stating that designers and architects do not merely design objects; they design human behaviours. This was the very essence of Radical Architecture. We were challenging the bourgeois world we lived in; a world we sensed was on the verge of transformation. And indeed, that transformation became palpable throughout the 1970s and 1980s, so much so that today, the 'bourgeoisie' is no longer a topic of discussion. Social organisation has been so thoroughly reshaped by social, market, consumer, and capitalist transformations that the bourgeoisie – once the bastion of old customs and traditions – simply no longer exists.

W*: How did your relationship with Triennale evolve over the years?

MDL: I carried out various interventions at the Palazzo Dell'Arte, including the modernisation of the original 1930s architecture by Giovanni Muzio. The final element we added was the bridge, intended to connect the upper floor to the Design Museum; it spans the entire void of the grand ceremonial staircase. The idea behind the bridge was precisely to create a more recognisable entrance for the Design Museum. I was incredibly proud of the concept of building a bridge. Although it was a rather drastic intervention to Muzio’s original layout, it was designed to be reversible. The bridge doesn't alter the architecture by even a millimetre; instead, it rests on two large iron portals that are completely independent. In fact, there is still a piece of stone visible once you are on the bridge, serving as a reminder that, at any moment, we could remove the bridge, put that stone back, and it would be as if nothing had happened.

W*: How would you describe the Triennale?

MDL: The Triennale is not an art museum; it is a building originally dedicated to the decorative arts, and has evolved alongside the changing meaning we’ve attributed to this concept. Originally, 'decorative arts' referred to the work artisans applied to their crafted objects and creations. Then, over time, the concept shifted. At that stage, decorative arts still carried the legacy of Art Nouveau and classical influences, which were eventually superseded by concepts like industrial design, prefabrication, and industrialisation; the concept of industry really took hold around the time of WWII.

Understanding the role of the Triennale is key: while it is certainly an institution dedicated to design, architecture, and contemporary arts – as well as theatre, performance art, and fashion – it does not belong exclusively to any single one of these disciplines; rather, it brings them all together. Indeed, the President frequently speaks of interdisciplinarity as the 'glue' binding these various fields; an element of cohesion between art, architecture, design, and so on.

Yet, what truly defines the Triennale as a Milanese institution is its originality and authenticity. It is deeply rooted in Milanese culture and the city's social and cultural evolution. Ultimately, the Triennale is an institution dedicated to the act of design, to the project itself. This can take many forms. What stands out, however, is the artistic project that highlights the human drive to constantly improve things: using the act of design to advance technology, knowledge, and the state of human existence on the planet.

W*: What are you planning to focus on through your Creative Directorship?

MDL: For me, the role is defined by a project-based mindset. It is about being active drivers of change. Yet, there is an important point to make: the Triennale is an institution, president Trione places great emphasis on this. Institutions exist to establish and to break new ground; there is always a commitment to building and taking root. And clearly, taking root runs counter to the zeitgeist, which favours shallow roots to remain agile and ready to react to change. I would say this is precisely where the great compromise lies: the great tension between opposites that defines our position today and shapes the philosophy of our era. We have two very clear opposites: the institution and change. We must find a synthesis between them and define our own position.

W*: When introducing your plan for the new role, you spoke about a journey to build the concept of sustainability within the collective imagination. Could you tell me a bit more about this?

MDL: It is very simple: you know that building the most eco-friendly houses or the most sustainable objects on Earth makes no sense if we are dealing with a world of rabid consumers. It is fundamentally a matter of mindset and of what our ambitions and expectations are.

These stem from the mental image we hold, from the ideal world we envision for ourselves. If that ideal world is rooted in consumerism, we will inevitably keep consuming as much as possible, making the human condition on Earth increasingly unsustainable. We need to work on that. We have a great advantage: the freedom of choice, or at least the freedom that capitalism offers us, despite all its downsides and flaws.

The Triennale has a vital task: to disseminate a vision of a possible, sustainable future. That is why, during the press conference, I highlighted the need to build sustainability within our collective imagination. It really comes down to the subtle work of architecture, the kind conveyed through the images we construct, the conversations we have, and all those drawings, visualisations, and renderings we keep circulating; if these continue to present a world that is no longer attainable, we are simply shooting ourselves in the foot.

W*: You also spoke of a desire to focus on those craft enterprises that have shaped the landscape of Italian design and creativity but are now gradually disappearing. Can you tell me more about this decision?

MDL: Craftsmanship is fundamental, but not as an alternative to industry. We tend to picture craftsmanship as the work of artisans in abandoned villages, in contrast with the industrial design from factories around Milan or Turin. In reality, craftsmanship and industry are closely intertwined. The Salone del Mobile demonstrates this clearly, as do the many Italian companies that rely on the artisanal social fabric, something we have fortunately managed to preserve in Italy. I am not sure there was ever a deliberate effort to actively support and maintain this craft tradition. I believe we have sustained craftsmanship simply because, in practice, we are a poor country, still rooted in a culture that, if not strictly agrarian, is certainly artisanal.

Major Italian furniture companies rely heavily on these artisans: carpenters, metalworkers, upholsterers, and textile manufacturers who still produce fabrics in small batches. This Italian craftsmanship is a primary driver of innovation, particularly in the realms of interior design and the creation of spaces, whether public or private, in homes, hotels, restaurants, or offices. Italian artisans play a wonderful role as catalysts for experimentation, driven by a very simple fact: they get bored easily; they tire of doing the same thing over and over again, they set about inventing a different way to do it. This approach is a form of experimentation and renewal; it drives innovation.

W*: Something that stands out in the new Scientific Committee of Triennale is the international experience of its members. While the Triennale is a very Milanese institution, how do you think it will be enriched by the international experiences that you all bring as part of your cultural background?

MDL: It is somewhat in the DNA of the Triennale and in the DNA of the Milanese, because Milan is truly a city that has always strived to look ahead and outward. It was therefore a given that the Triennale would embody an Italian, and specifically Milanese, spirit while maintaining an international outlook. Consequently, it made perfect sense to assemble a team of people who possessed that international perspective, or who even came from abroad. Many of us spend significant parts of the year outside Milan and Italy; after all, what do we find if we just navel-gaze? Personally, I think very little.

W*: What can we expect for the future of Triennale?

MDL: The Triennale is a major Italian institution dedicated to design. Like all such institutions, it needs to establish cornerstones upon which to build its reasoning and debate. While its programme of planned exhibitions and of the namesake triennial is essential, we also want to introduce an element of improvisation. This interplay between planning and improvisation is precisely what keeps culture alive worldwide. The things that happen spontaneously are what give rhythm to life, and to the cultural history of a country and the world we inhabit.

We are undertaking these improvisations, which represent a substantial part of the programme and something I personally care about deeply. They don't just inject energy into the present moment; they address major themes we cannot afford to put off for three years at a time. Themes like the concept of truth when we no longer know what the truth is, connection and sustainability, recyclability... These themes cannot be postponed every three years, because the world we live in changes much more quickly.

Making his furniture design debut, media personality Tan France unveils a new 18-piece collection for Castlery including furniture, lighting and accessories. As a celebrity approaching a design collaboration, France was aware of the challenges the project posed: 'I didn’t want to (...) select items from an already-designed collection and put my name on it,' he tells Wallpaper*. Instead, the Queer Eye star got designing, his South Asian and British heritage firmly in mind as he drew from the places and aesthetics that have shaped his early years.

'Living between cultures and countries has taught me that home isn’t just somewhere you live, it’s something you create, wherever you are,' he says to introduce the collection, which includes highlights such as a blown glass table lamp in three colours, and a sofa imagined as a centrepiece based on everyday comfort.

Here, France tells Wallpaper* how interior design and identity are inextricably linked.

7 Questions with Tan France

Wallpaper*: When did you first become aware of the concept of design within the context of a home or interior?

Tan France: When I was a teen, I finally got my own room (an attic bedroom) and was allowed to decorate it however I wanted. I had a weekend job and had saved some money, so I spent what I had on making the room look like a cohesive space. Seems simple enough, but it was a completely foreign concept to my family, at the time, to decorate for both function and aesthetics.

W*: Do you have any memories of your childhood home?

TF: Yes, I had a home that blended western and eastern cultures. I didn’t realize the significance at the time, but when it came to designing my home in Salt Lake City, I knew I wanted to do a hybrid of British and South Asian, to make it feel like home.

W*: What is your approach to your own home?

TF: My approach to designing my home, and my collection, is the same. I want items that feel familiar but with a unique touch. I want to feel that the vibe has come from one, unwavering lens. For my home, I wanted to have everything one would have in a home like this, but with design details that represented my past, and my life with my American husband.

W*: This is your first furniture collaboration: what was important for you to convey with this launch?

TF: Firstly, I wanted to actually design. I didn’t want to do a celebrity collection, where I select items from an already designed collection and put my name on it. I wanted to show (...) that I had a unique perspective and that what is created could only be designed by someone from my background and cultures. Start to finish. Secondly, I wanted to convey a sense of it being for you, too. Even though the items all have a (very gentle) South Asian and British touch, it can work for those of you who are neither of those things but still want unique pieces.

W*: Your family’s culture and heritage have been important in shaping you: how does this reflect in your design choices, and how has this influenced this collection?

TF: The scalloped details from South Asia and England really influenced the collection. It's something that I saw dotted around my house, but also around the UK on what were traditional English buildings. That was the main inspiration behind the collection. I wanted the collection to feel so singular. One that could truly have only been created by me, so using my two cultural touch points felt like the right jumping off point.

W*: What are key pieces that are important to you, or that encapsulate the spirit of the collection, and why?

TF: It's really hard to choose, as I designed only items that are all important to me. However, I am obsessed with my lamp. I think it's the perfect balance of play and sophistication to bring newness to any space. And I'm crazy about my sofa. I think the wooden details make it feel so darn unique. I have the lamps in my home already and love them. I also have the side table which I think is stunning.

W*: Do you have any of these in your own home, and how do you use them?

TF: Yes, I have the large mirror, with the scalloped detail, in my guest house, as I wanted to infuse a little more detail to that space. I have the lamps dotted around the house, in my living room, kitchen and bedroom. And the side tables now flank my guest bedroom bed. I will be receiving the rest of my collection next week and I’ll be using every darn piece. I can’t wait!

Tasked with preserving the heritage of his late father, legendary French designer Pierre Paulin, Benjamin Paulin has been clear that this design legacy is not static. Interpreting the late designer's ethos, Paulin set up Paulin, Paulin, Paulin with his wife Alice Paulin as a studio that expands the design world by connecting the original ideas with contemporary design and popular culture.

Among the latest initiatives is an installation to backdrop British record producer Fred Again.. and Mexican trio Latin Mafia's collaborative mixtape, '9 months & 50 hours', recorded at LagoAlgo, a cultural centre set within a 1960s building on the shores of a lake in Bosque de Chapultepec, Mexico City.

The artists installed themselves in the modernist architectural masterpiece with the aim of working on a collaborative mixtape, documented on a livestream on YouTube. The artists worked from the space, longing on Paulin's masterpiece which proved a fitting design to encourage creative brainstorming.

This installation is a fitting embodiment of the designer's original idea. Paulin conceived the Dune sofa as part of his radical vision for an interior design based on fluid landscape, rather than static objects. The modular system encourages freedom of movement and is designed with conversation in mind. While the piece was never produced during the designer's lifetime, it is one of his most celebrated works and an integral part of Paulin, Paulin, Paulin's celebration of his legacy and released in super limited edition.

'By accompanying Fred Again.. and Latin Mafia during the final moments of their creative process, Paulin, Paulin, Paulin continues its dialogue with today's leading cultural figures, placing its timeless designs at the heart of contemporary artistic expression,' reads a note from the studio introducing their involvement in the collaboration. This installation continues Benjamin Paulin's exploration of his father's legacy through popular culture, and music in particular.

Earlier this year, he launched Sounds Like Paulin, a cultural label centred on music with the aim of transforming 'the concept of the salon into an immersive sound meeting place – an environment capable of bringing together friends and artists who might never have crossed paths otherwise,’ said Paulin upon launching the initiative.

Watch: '9 months & 50 hours' by Fred Again.. and Latin Mafia, hour 26 of finishing the mixtape

There’s too much Lego in the world to keep track of, much less look after should you decide to break down the sets and venture forth into using the toy as it was originally intended – for creative play. That’s not to say you shouldn’t keep your moon rocket / Sagrada Família / Olivia Rodrigo stage set or whatever intact, but if you do find yourself with a pile of random bricks, how best to sort them?

Enter the Brickle Lego sorter, an evolution of one family’s well-crafted solution into a product anyone can buy, blending contemporary lines with simple, analogue brick sifting. The Brickle was developed by the Newland brothers, engineer Matt, nano-scientist Ben and LSE graduate Geoffrey.

Resembling a handsome plan chest, the unit was designed by Matt Newland, currently working in the yachting industry. Manufactured in Cardigan, Wales, the units feature a perfectly sized construction surface on the top above four drawers. The top plate includes three or five rectangular slots into which you scoop the Lego (or Legos, depending which side of the Atlantic you’re reading this on).

The internal mechanism is hardly rocket science. Aside from the uppermost drawer, which has a variety of differently sized and shaped compartments for storing key pieces, figures, etc, the two middle trays are drilled with an array of medium and small holes at the front edge of each drawer.

Smaller pieces fall all the way through to the lowermost drawer, medium-sized pieces in the drawer above and so on. Give each drawer a rattle back and forward and the Lego inside cascades down to its final resting place based on its size.

Admittedly, Brickle hasn’t exactly innovated with the idea of a Lego sorter– you can buy numerous types of stacking and sorting crates and storage boxes. What it has done is excel in the execution. Rather than rely on plastic, the company builds its units from FSC-certified birch plywood, with a painted option (cream or black) or a natural oak veneer finish.

The sorting units are available in two sizes, small and regular, with a matching set of shelves that can be slotted into the upper level for display. There are also stacking stools as well. The company will also take special requests, bravely offering up the entire RAL chart and colours from other paint manufacturers to create a unique piece.

The larger Brickle units are a metre wide, 65cm deep and 56cm high and can hold around 15kg of Lego pieces (between 10 to 18,000 pieces, according to the notoriously unreliable internet). It weighs in at a hefty 56kg – no corners have been cut in the manufacturing process. The smaller 40kg ‘Bach’ unit is only 63cm wide but the same height and depth, with space for 9kg of Lego.

Both have been designed to stand up to the rigours of play, along with the accompanying accessories. For adult and child builders alike, the Brickle is an elegant storage solution, one that might cut down on the perennial problem of Lego underfoot and help drive creative reinterpretation of the Danish manufacturer’s dizzying panoply of sets, old and new.

Brickle Lego sorter, from £1,460 for small version, Brickle.co, @Brickle.co

Bankruptcy auctions are not sentimental affairs. A company is divided into its constituent parts, bidders compete for the pieces they want, and the court’s task is to extract as much value as possible for its stakeholders. When recipe and cookware company Food52 entered bankruptcy earlier this year, the fate of its three brands – its flagship digital media platform Food52, Portland-based homeware manufacturer Schoolhouse and heritage Scandinavian tabletop and homeware brand Dansk – was decided over the course of a day.

The most compelling component, Dansk, came last. 'It was the caboose in the auction,' recalls Mark Masiello, founder of Form Portfolios, a Rhode Island and Copenhagen-based company that owns, manages, and preserves the legacies of historic and contemporary designers and architects. ‘We didn’t really have a sense until the very, very end that we were going to be successful.'

For Masiello, however, the acquisition was personal. Form Portfolios had spent several years working with the family of Dansk’s co-founder and principal designer, Jens Quistgaard, to protect and elevate his legacy. 'From my very first meeting with Mark, I realised his vision for Form Portfolios transcended business,' says Quistgaard’s daughter, Henriette. 'It was a deeply personal calling to honour my father’s legacy. That initial conversation established a level of trust and a shared commitment to protecting my father’s work and the integrity of his designs.'

Building brands and safeguarding legacies

Running a design company is an unlikely second act for Masiello. After a 25‑year stint in private equity, he retired at 44 and set up Form Portfolios in 2017. He describes those first decades as working ‘on one side of [his] brain’, and the last ten years as activating the other: applying the tools and discipline of his previous life to the more intuitive business of design – something he has found ‘tremendously satisfying’. That outsider’s perspective, he believes, is precisely what allowed him to see how designers and their families needed help managing rights, building brands and safeguarding legacies.

Masiello had not told Henriette or her sister-in-law Therese that he intended to bid for Dansk; knowing how anxious they were about its future, he did not want to raise their hopes. The following Saturday, he called with the good news. 'They said, “Did you buy Dansk?” I said yes, and there were tears,' he remembers. 'There’s a business side to what we do, but even more important is the legacy of the designers we work with – and the human side.'

Dansk: a beloved design brand

What Form Portfolios had acquired was not simply a collection of cookware, tableware and intellectual property, but stewardship of a brand unusually heavy with emotion. Founded in 1954 by American entrepreneurs Ted and Martha Nierenberg with the young Quistgaard, Dansk helped introduce Scandinavian modernism to American homes. 'Dansk represents a pivotal chapter in modern American design by demonstrating that everyday objects can be both highly functional and beautifully designed,’ says Emmanuel Plat, director of merchandising, retail at MoMA. Its enduring influence, he adds, is reflected in its presence in the museum’s collection, 'where it stands alongside other works that have shaped the history of modern design'.

During the second half of the 20th century, Quistgaard’s objects for Dansk became embedded in everyday life: the brightly coloured casserole with its crossed handle, beautiful enough to be carried directly from stove to table; the sleek stainless-steel flatware with teak handles and cheeseboards with built-in knives. 'If your memory were a photograph,' says Masiello, 'in many memories, Dansk is in that photograph.'

In its heyday, Dansk was available in Europe and beloved in Japan, but North America was its stronghold, where it was available at every major retailer and had 45 dedicated stores across the country. ‘For many Americans, Dansk was their first introduction to Scandinavian design,’ says Masiello. ‘The idea that you could combine form, functionality, simplicity and intelligence in a single object was new.’

That emotional familiarity may help Dansk reach a new generation increasingly drawn to objects with a history. Masiello describes it as part of a broader return to the analogue: a renewed appetite for vinyl, vintage design and tactile things made to endure. Yet he is clear that Dansk cannot survive on nostalgia alone.

Sebastian Brauer, head of design at Crate & Barrel, sees its longevity as the product of a philosophy rather than an aesthetic moment. 'Dansk has endured because it has always understood that good design doesn’t chase trends – it becomes part of people’s everyday rituals,' he says. 'Its pieces are modern without feeling cold, functional without sacrificing beauty, and approachable enough to be used every day rather than just admired.'

Those qualities appear particularly relevant amid today's culture of fast furniture, disposable objects and hollow digital experiences. 'Today’s customer is increasingly looking for objects with authenticity, permanence and a clear point of view,' Brauer continues. 'Dansk stands out for its honest materials, thoughtful craftsmanship and timeless Scandinavian design language and heritage.'

Dansk returns to Copenhagen

Acutely aware of the emotional weight that this brand carries, Masiello's plan for Dansk is to restore its 'original formula'. In its early years, Dansk was an American company headquartered on the US East Coast, with its creative heart firmly rooted in Copenhagen. After Quistgaard retired, that balance shifted and creative control migrated to the US – a change Masiello believes weakened the brand, and one he is now determined to reverse. As part of Form Portfolios, Dansk's Copenhagen-centred creative model will be restored, relaunching beloved classics alongside archival and new designs. 'This is a designer who created 10,000 designs,' says Masiello. 'Four thousand of them were at Dansk. The brand played a huge role in changing how Americans live their lives – how they cook, how they entertain, how they dine.'

Unlike Form’s work on collections such as Eames Lighting – where it creates the collection and leaves partners like Cassina to tell the story – with Dansk the company is taking on a fully direct-to-consumer role, owning both the products and the storytelling. The relaunch includes building a dedicated team and direct-to-consumer channel at Dansk.com while re-establishing as many original manufacturing partnerships as possible and global retail partnerships – many have already reached out, Masiello confirms.

'That's exciting, and it's new for us,' he says of the direct-to-consumer dynamic. 'We are uniquely positioned to return to the original formula – we have a creative studio based here in Copenhagen, and relationships with 20 Scandinavian designers right now, and we hope a number of them will become part of Dansk as well.'

Beyond the archive

One such partnership is already underway to address 'a surprising hole' in the Dansk collection. Historically, the brand has focused on cookware and tabletop objects, but never ventured into textiles. Enter 86-year-old Danish textile designer Kim Naver, who will create a new collection of tabletop textiles for Dansk. A defining figure in Danish textile art, Naver has spent more than six decades creating everything from domestic fabrics and rugs to monumental architectural tapestries, combining structural clarity with a sensitivity to colour and material.

The collaboration was announced during 3 Days of Design 2026 with ‘Kim Naver: Dansk Moderne’, a retrospective staged at Form Portfolios’ Copenhagen studio. Bringing together textiles, drawings and archival material from across her career, the exhibition offered a reminder of Naver’s influence – and positioned her as the first contemporary designer to contribute to Dansk’s next chapter. 'The fact that she has agreed to design a collection for Dansk speaks to the power and heritage of the brand,' says Masiello.

Naver’s involvement offers an early indication of how Form intends to balance continuity with change. Her work is deeply rooted in the Danish craft tradition yet unmistakably her own – making the collaboration feel less like an exercise in nostalgia than a continuation of Dansk’s original purpose: bringing the best of Scandinavian design into everyday homes.

For young people living in a city, square footage in a home can be hard to come by. Studios with storage space are gold dust, house shares may be a necessity, and moves may be frequent. After spending time with young adults living in central London, Ikea has developed a new furniture and accessories collection inspired by the realities of renting, moving home, and student life.

Adpatable and portable, Ikea’s ‘Kompishäng’ collection

Among the participating twentysomethings, they discovered consistent challenges: limited storage space, and worn-out moving boxes used in place of furniture. What they also saw was a small number of easily movable objects that had been carried from one property to the next.

The ‘Kompishäng’ collection features 12 designs, including a folding table/desk, stools that stack to become shelving or a display unit, a pick-up-able bookshelf-bookend combo, a hanging wardrobe organiser that can be carried like a bag, back-of-door storage, and even a collapsible jute plant pot.

The collection is designed to be durable and functional, with pieces crafted from materials such as solid pine, powder-coated steel, and canvas.

'It's designed to accompany life's transitions – equally at home in a first apartment, a family house, or even a retirement space,' says designer David Wahl, whose round side table is lightweight and folds flat.

To help ease the stress of transporting furniture across the city, there is also a bag on wheels, which can equally serve as a shopping bag or a picnic basket. 'We wanted to create furniture that could be moved with your body alone, without needing a car,' comments Ikea designer Wiebke Braasch.

‘Even if you move often, you don’t want your home to feel temporary,' says Dora Ding, Ikea product developer. 'We saw how carefully people chose the things they carried with them from place to place, and that insight shaped the collection. We wanted the collection to be portable but still have a permanent look: people should feel settled and considered.’

Shop the collection

Ashiesh Shah has long been a formidable presence in India’s design landscape. An architect, designer, artist and collector, he works across residences, retail interiors and collectible objects, with a practice shaped by restraint and a deep commitment to India’s craft traditions. One of India’s most influential creative figures, Shah has also curated design exhibitions across the country, while his own work has been presented at institutions including the National Museum in New Delhi. In 2022, Shah became the first Indian designer represented by collectible design gallery The Invisible Collection. And more recently, he opened his first solo exhibition in the UK, Taamr at Carpenters Workshop Gallery, on show till 20 September 2026.

Discover the work of Ashiesh Shah

Art, design and an appreciation for beauty have always come instinctively to Shah. At the age of ten, he persuaded his mother to purchase a work by Manjit Bawa, the celebrated Indian modernist; the painting would go on to become one of the family’s most prized possessions, as well as a significant collector’s piece. 'What pulled me in was the restraint in his work – how much he left unsaid on the canvas, how a single figure could hold that much space without needing anything around it to justify its presence,' Shah recalls.

He moved to New York to study Interior Architecture at Parsons in the early 2000s, and on returning to Mumbai, established his eponymous studio in 2008, grounding the practice in the principles of wabi-sabi. Those who recognised the subtlety of this language were quickly drawn to Shah’s work. Yet communicating its quiet power was not always straightforward. 'Quiet design does not sell well on paper; it can read as empty on a mood board, so I would just bring the material into the room,' he says. 'A slab of stone, a sample of plaster, something they could touch.'

Much of Shah’s early work was residential, though some retail projects that have stayed with him include the first Le Mill store in Mumbai, an Indian multi-brand concept housed within a former warehouse. Rather than rely on the artificial lighting typical of retail interiors at the time, Shah opened up the roof and introduced glazing, allowing daylight to travel through the building.

There’s also a space for Raw Mango, the celebrated Indian handwoven textile label. Stripped of wallpaper, pattern and overt colour, the space is defined, instead, by custom furniture, brass counters and fixtures, rendered in a restrained palette of natural textures.

The Indiabulls apartment in Mumbai is a richly curated home layered with art, handcrafted elements and contemporary interventions, and the penthouse in Hyderabad is defined by control rather than ostentation, revealing Shah’s preference for quiet materiality and considered detail.

All the while, Shah’s fascination with objects was taking shape alongside his architectural practice. 'I have always wanted to be an artist and, more than that, a sculptor. That instinct has been with me from very early on,' he says. 'Architecture became a natural way into it because it allowed me to sculpt with light itself, shaping how it moves through a space rather than simply designing walls around it. Product design grew from that same impulse, only at a more intimate scale.'

The ‘Liminal’ bench was the first object Shah released into the world, followed by several others, including the ‘Naga’ chair, cast in aluminium with a dark bronze finish and paired with an elephant-grass coat, and his ‘Channapatna’ furniture and lighting collection, a contemporary interpretation of Karnataka’s traditional wooden toy-making craft, composed of carefully turned, naturally lacquered beads. The ‘Channapatna’ light was created in collaboration with master craftswoman Noor Salma.

Sustained artisan collaborations are at the heart of his practice. 'We are not simply working within the boundaries of their craft; we are redefining it alongside them, pushing a technique somewhere it has not been asked to go before,' he says. 'That is when they stop waiting for instruction and begin bringing me ideas of their own. It is built the hard way, through failure, experimentation and years of trust.'

Now, ‘Taamr’, Shah’s first solo show in the UK, marks a significant moment in his long engagement with collectible design. 'Through materials such as copper, handcrafted mirrors, rudraksha and reclaimed objects, the exhibition explores how familiar forms can be reimagined without losing their cultural memory.'

Looking ahead, Shah is working on several significant residences across India, alongside a collaboration with Spanish designer and sculptor Nacho Carbonell. Craft, he says, will remain central to his practice. Reflecting on the decades to come, he adds: 'I hope the craft outlasts my name. If someone standing before a piece 50 years from now can still read the hand that made it, the material it came from and the tradition it drew upon, then it has done its job.'

ashieshshah.com

Around the turn of the 20th century, the Lido, a seven-mile barrier island in the Venetian Lagoon, was home to some of the grandest hotels in Europe. It inspired Thomas Mann to pen his novella Death in Venice there in 1912, and, two decades later, was so cinematic that it became the home of the Venice Film festival.

Even if you don’t have plans to visit Venice this summer, New York’s Galerie56 is offering the next-best thing – for design buffs, anyway. Now through 17 October, the Manhattan art and design outpost is teaming up with Italy’s prestigious Nilufar gallery on a new exhibition of design rarities called ‘Nilufar Grand Hotel, Vista Mare.’

The residency (Nilufar’s second stateside presentation with Galerie56) is a continuation of the Milanese collectible design powerhouse’s Milan Design Week show, ‘Grand Hotel’, in which gallery founder Nina Yashar reimagined the Nilufar Depot as if it were a sumptuous Old World resort. The New York version, similarly, uses design treasures to conjure a hotel – only this time, one set in the Lido.

‘I found myself returning to the atmosphere of Venice in summer – not Venice as a destination, but Venice as an idea: a place where architecture, water, light, memory and culture merge into a singular, evocative experience,’ said Galerie56 founder, architect Lee Mindel.

Mindel, working with the Nilufar team, hand-selected objects that conjured a sunny beach scene in the Lido – a place the architect first visited as a teenager. An ultra-rare, Formica-topped Carlo Mollino dining table, first designed in 1956, forms an imaginary lobby, flanked by a pair of minimalist wood ‘Miguelito’ chairs by Mexican architect Luis Barragán. Opposite the entrance, a golden ‘40s-era knotted rug designed by Swedish designer Barbro Nilsson forms an expanse of ‘sand’, while a round Fontana Arte cocktail table and whimsical Gabriella Crespi floor lamp evoke the sun and a cheerful beach umbrella, respectively.

Fans of Crespi, the glamorous multidisciplinary Italian designer who rose to fame during the 1950s, will find many delights here, from a carved-wood table lamp in the shape of a frog; to rattan furniture; to a set of gleaming brass drawers created for Christian Dior; to a futuristic metallic floor lamp that sprouts from the floor like buoys floating on the sea. Other design masters, including Gio Ponti, Martino Gamper and the Italian-born Brazilian designer Lina Bo Bardi, make cameos.

One of the most enticing items in the show is actually one of the oldest – a scroll-shaped mirror and shelf designed by Carlo Bugatti. Created in 1902 – a decade before Mann authored Death in Venice – the piece feels at once of its era and strikingly modern, thanks to a stenciled Art Nouveau iris border; embossed copper and mother of pearl decorative elements; and a small hinged cupboard that opens to reveal diminutive drawers and turned columns evocative of Piazza San Marco.

‘They are works of exceptional craftsmanship and beauty, but they also carry stories, cultural references, and emotional resonance,’ Mindel said. ‘“Grand Hotel, Vista Mare” is ultimately a celebration of those connections – an exploration of hospitality, elegance and the enduring romance of Italian design.’

'Grand Hotel, Vista Mare' is on view through 17 October at Galerie56, located at 240 Church Street New York, NY, USA 10013

This is the latest instalment of The Inside Story, Wallpaper’s series spotlighting intriguing, innovative and industry-leading interior design.

Casacor São Paulo, the flagship edition of Brazil's annual architecture and interiors exhibition – where designers transform an existing site into dozens of showcase spaces – concludes on 9 August 2026. Before it does, Brazil-based design enthusiasts should make their way to the historic Parque da Água Branca to experience ‘Semibreve Studio’, a space by Estúdio Clara Nahas.

The 55 sq m apartment is a tribute to Nahas' late mother, a pianist who profoundly shaped the designer’s creative outlook. Framed in the bedroom is the original score of a song her mother composed after Nahas' birth – the designer describes it as a kind of birth certificate for her artistic sensibility. In the living area, a Todeschini kitchen finished in a Giardino-tinted oak veneer flows into a sideboard built for a record player and her mother's vinyl collection, capped by a Da Vinci quartzite countertop.

The studio's name references the semibreve – the longest note value in musical notation. That idea of sustained stillness runs through the design, which is meant to slow visitors down. One way it achieves this is by inverting typical housing logic: you enter through the private zone, passing the bedroom and study, before arriving at the open living and kitchen areas.

Recreate the mood

At the centre of the plan stands a sculptural burgundy cylinder clad in deep red ceramic tiles by Turkish manufacturer Keramika, proportioned to tuck beneath the building's principal ceiling beam. It serves a triple function, enclosing the bathroom while carving out a study desk on one side and, on the bedroom face, a combined music nook and vanity. Above this, a display of hourglasses serves as another poetic reminder of time's passage.

The apartment preserves the building's original timber parquet floors and gabled beam-and-slat ceiling, while introducing a series of quirky interventions. Furniture favours soft, organic forms, including the ‘Amana’ modular sofa by Nildo José, paired with a curated selection of Brazilian design and art that foregrounds women creators: pieces by Lina Bo Bardi and Cristiana Bertolucci, a golden-grass pendant lamp crafted by Quilombola artisans, and artworks by Maria Bonomi, Jandyra Waters and others.

The bedroom features layered indirect lighting, a Líder Design bed and a Botteh rug, while the adjoining bathroom turns fully immersive – wrapping floor and ceiling in red and pairing honed Napoleon Bordeaux marble with dark-finished Deca fixtures.

Semibreve Studio achieves a remarkable amount within the confines of a showcase apartment. Its personal and musical allusions are constant, clever and cohesive – a moving tribute to Nahas' mother that succeeds in making visitors pause and reflect amid the chaos of São Paulo.

Fans, feathers, chevrons and palm fronds – there is no shortage of motifs to choose from in the glamorous, geometric universe of art deco, a movement born just over a century ago, at Paris’ 1925 Exposition Internationale. But for Cordelia de Castellane, artistic director of Dior Maison, inspiration came from an equally bountiful source: the great archive of the French maison, which holds thousands of items spanning from 1947 to the present day.

Her find was the ‘Godron’ motif, a simple but effective design combining rows of rounded elements to create a fluted decoration. The first Dior Maison objects adorned with the Godron date back to 1974, with the motif particularly widespread in the brand's 1980s and 1990s collections.

Reinterpreted for a new tableware collection, its thin blue stripes, punctuated by rounded hatched rectangles in white, navy and gold, now run along a series of Limoges porcelain pieces ranging from egg cups to oval platters.

The blue stripes are used in a variety of ways throughout the collection, which is designed for both everyday use and grand occasions. They form what looks like tiny stepped pyramids – a classic art deco trope inspired by ancient Mesoamerican structures – on decorative plates and trays; swirl into concentric circles on tea cup saucers; wrap around a butter dish like a hat band; and create an elegant train track circuit on a relish dish.

The collection also extends to trays, vases, frames and trinket dishes, and a matching selection of linens, beachwear and bathrobes, for a truly luxurious art deco experience. The towels, on which a line of Godron crosses an elegant blue frame, are a particular highlight, while the placemat and napkin set would look equally at home on a seaside terrace or a Parisian restaurant.

The ‘Godron’ collection can be paired with de Castellane’s first furniture collection for Dior Maison, Dior Greenhouse. Also just launched, the latter’s clover-shaped rattan pieces are inspired by the winter garden of Christian Dior's childhood home in Granville.

Godron collection, from £95, dior.com

It’s been decades since Knoll last added a bed to its line-up. The Pennsylvania-based furniture juggernaut, though, decided that it wasn’t an opportunity to sleep on much longer. Today, Knoll debuted a brand new bed design in collaboration with multi-hyphenate designer, Willo Perron.

Perron is one of the most innovative voices working in design today, with a portfolio that encompasses furniture, objects, sets, stages and brand identities for the likes of Beyoncé, Charli XCX, St. Vincent, Chanel and more. Wallpaper* even named Perron as our 2026 Designer of the Year.

No surprise, Perron’s latest project is just as fun. Called the 'Pillo' bed, the cushiony cot is an extension of the Los Angeles-based designer’s ongoing collaboration with Knoll, a partnership that launched in 2024 with the reveal of the 'Pillo' sofa, and that has since expanded to include lounge chairs, modular seating and – true to its namesake – pillows.

The bed is as inviting as it is a design statement, with a plush upholstered frame that blurs the boundary between pillows and bed. The headboard functions as a massive cushion, allowing loungers to prop themselves up to read a book or binge-watch their new favourite series.

The bed is neutral enough to work within a variety of contexts, ‘quietening and simplifying the bedroom,’ as Jonathan Olivares, Knoll’s creative director, put it. Buyers can also customise the upholstery colour to suit their space. Of course, it pairs perfectly with other items in the 'Pillo' family.

Perron, for his part, prefers to mix and match. ‘I don’t believe in uniformity and that extends to this bed – my pieces are designed to be a kind of functional system, but in an adaptable way where they can become unique to each person and each space through material, colour and context,’ Perron said in a statement. ‘I like seeing how people ultimately make them their own.’

It's been a busy summer for eyewear brand Cubitts. Following hot on the heels of The Yard – the brand's sprawling new headquarters and optical manufactory in King’s Cross, London – on 30 July 2026 it opens its first Manchester shop, concluding a decade-long search for the perfect property.

Welcome to Cubitts Manchester

Located at 16 Smithfield Buildings in the city's Northern Quarter, it occupies part of the building that was formerly Affleck & Brown – a department store that operated from the 1860s until its closure in 1973 and was coined the 'Harrods of the North'.

For more than a century, cloth was sold here by the yard and garments were made to measure. In the same space, Cubitts will now measure, fit, adjust and repair spectacles – it's an accidental parallel but one that the brand enjoys.

'We wanted to be in the Northern Quarter, but only if we could find a building with the history and character to justify our arrival,' says Tom Broughton, who founded Cubitts in 2013. 'Smithfield Buildings felt immediately right: a spectacle shop inside a former draper’s department store, in a neighbourhood shaped by making, music and independent trade.'

As Cubitts grows – Manchester is its 21st shop worldwide and 19th in the UK – Broughton understands the importance of creating retail spaces that have a clear brand DNA, while also reflecting their unique surroundings.

'Each Cubitts store tries to belong to its neighbourhood,' Broughton tells Wallpaper*. 'We start with the building, the street and the people who give the area its character, rather than imposing the same design everywhere. What ties them together is “precision with soul”: precision because optics is technical, exacting and important; soul because it is ultimately deeply human too. While each site is different, each tries to be the antithesis of a clinical optician.'

In Manchester, the interiors come courtesy of local studio Youth – the designers behind the recently opened Cotswolds hotel Hyll – who wanted to create a space that respects the building's past but reflects the city's future.

'Having grown up creatively and professionally in Manchester, we have always been conscious of how the city represents itself through design,' the studio's co-founder Liam McGroarty told Wallpaper*. 'Too often, Manchester is defined by familiar, clichéd references to its musical and industrial past, which can limit how its future is imagined. Our approach for Cubitts was to create a space that reflects where the city is going: confident, progressive and culturally relevant, while reinterpreting its history through a contemporary lens that feels relevant to the people shaping the city today.'

In the store, this translates as precise steelwork and rain-textured glass display units that sit in deliberate contrast to the unrefined finish of the surrounding plaster walls. 'The crafted metalwork reframes the city’s industrial heritage in a contemporary way, while reflecting the precision of the Cubitts brand,' explains McGroarty.

Made to display up to 72 optical frames and sunglasses, the display case's textured glass platforms cast broken, watery shadows beneath the spotlights. Echoing this theme of contrasts, sleek steel-frames wrap the hand-dimpled mirrors, which return a deliberately imperfect reflection.

Elsewhere, divided by waxed-cotton curtains, there is a dedicated repairs desk, an optometric room and a bespoke consultation area – all services that are traditionally relegated to back-of-shop but here, like at Cubitts’ King’s Cross HQ, are made visible. At the heart of the space, a faceted oak counter acts as a social focal point designed to be gathered around rather than a transactional barrier. A turntable is integrated into the joinery, introducing a subtle musical reference that also creates an opportunity to engage with neighbouring record stores.

To make the store feel collected rather than decorated, the team sourced artworks and objects that reflect traditions of tailoring, industry, modernism and close manual work. An original painting by Francis Hoyland depicts a seamstress at work, while a Cubist gouache by Marcel Gille shows a forge worker. A pair of modernist sandstone figures by sculptor Richard Perry sit in front of a speaker, while a vintage revolving bookcase – originally made by Manchester cabinetmakers Goodall, Lamb and Heighway using timber salvaged from HMS Foudroyant – holds a selection of publications from Manchester’s The Modernist.

'It was important that Cubitts Manchester was designed in Manchester, and not just deposited here,' reflects Broughton. 'The result is thoughtful, industrial and warm, with references to the city embedded in its materials, objects and music rather than announced from the walls.'

There is no single way to be a Black designer, and that thought sits at the heart of ‘The Nue Black Aesthetic’, a major exhibition opening at London’s Design Museum in November 2026. Guest-curated by author and journalist Charlene Prempeh and project curator Tiya Dahyabhai, the exhibition brings together more than 100 objects by 16 contemporary designers, spanning furniture, architecture, tailoring, product design and sculpture.

At its core is the idea that ‘Black design is not a monolith’. The exhibition opens with the question: ‘What does it mean to be a Black designer working today?’ For Prempeh, founder of creative studio and art consultancy A Vibe Called Tech and author of Now You See Me: An Introduction to 100 Years of Black Design, the answer has become more complicated over the years she has spent developing the exhibition.

The designers and their intentions may not have significantly changed, she tells Wallpaper*, though the world in which they are working has. ‘There’s been an erosion of diversity programmes. There’s been a kind of acceptance of, if not racism, then there’s been an acceptance of division. And the practice takes place within that context. And so that’s quite different.’

The exhibition’s title reaches back into history through its references to the Black Aesthetic of the 1960s and the New Black Aesthetic of the 1980s. Prempeh’s ‘Nue’ introduces nuance into the conversation around this particular generation, drawing attention to the individual histories, geographies and ideas behind the work. For Prempeh, the diaspora is central to that thinking.

‘I think the diasporic voice has become stronger and stronger and stronger as part of the Black community over the past ten, 20 years,’ she says. ‘That is an important focus and an important detail because the different countries across Africa, and across the Caribbean have very, very different stories to tell. That’s what’s different about the show. It’s not that these Black designers are different to that generation. It’s that I’m looking at a different type of Black designer.’

The exhibition unfolds across six sections, beginning with the history of Black design before moving through individual practice, community and the wider systems around design. Towards a Nue Black Aesthetic begins with seven decades of Black design and the practitioners and scholarship that have shaped the present, before Identity as Inspiration considers how personal histories and cultural references enter a designer’s work. Among the objects on display is Bianca Saunders’ suit for Usher at the 2023 Met Gala.

Community Building considers design as a means of creating belonging, with Labrum’s Arsenal 2024/25 away kit among the works featured, while Rethinking the System looks at designers challenging established ideas of value, hierarchy and the canon. The final two sections become more personal and contemplative. Black by Design, a new film directed by Samona Olanipekun, follows the featured designers through interviews and studio visits, before Finale, a site-specific commission by Ini Archibong, which brings the exhibition to a close.

Within that wider journey, individual practices reveal the different ways these questions are being approached. Among them is Simone Brewster, whose first museum show, ‘Platform: Simone Brewster’, is also at the Design Museum. For ‘The Nue Black Aesthetic’, she will present new work, placing her practice in conversation with the other designers in the exhibition.

Architect and artist Giles Tettey Nartey will show ‘Strange Notes’, his contemporary take on the balafon, a gourd-resonated xylophone originating in West Africa. The work addresses something Nartey has long been interested in: the way the Western design canon has often treated traditional West African design as though it belongs to the past. ‘Strange Notes’ appears in Rethinking the System, where questions around how design is valued, understood and carried forward come into focus.

The wider group includes Tejumola Adenuga, Taiba Akhuetie, Ini Archibong, Mac Collins, Phoebe Collings-James, Foday Dumbuya, Feben, Nifemi Marcus-Bello, Andu Masebo, Saul Nash, Tosin Oshinowo, Rachel Scott and Samuel Ross. Work by more than 20 additional designers, including Althea McNish and Yinka Ilori, expands the exhibition’s history across the 20th and 21st centuries.

Meet the creatives

Deciding who belonged within that conversation was not straightforward. The exhibition focuses primarily on UK designers, or those with a significant connection to the UK, with shared themes helping Prempeh determine its final shape.

‘At its core, I suppose curation is an act of selecting and organising,’ she says. ‘There are tens and tens of other Black designers whose work I both respect and enjoy who aren’t in this exhibition and that’s because I was looking for shared themes.

‘Making those decisions was difficult, but it came down to asking: what are the key themes that these designers can fall under, themes that make sense to visitors and that can help tell a compelling story about Black design today.’

One assumption Prempeh particularly wanted to address was the idea of Black design as ‘crafty’. ‘I’ve always found that quite difficult to swallow,’ she says. ‘So I wanted to show, I suppose, the level of intellectual rigour and complexity in the making that takes place in Black design. I hope this exhibition achieves that.’

It brings the exhibition to a more difficult question around how Black designers are understood once their work is visible. The designers may be brought together through a shared racial identity, but Prempeh is wary of Blackness becoming the endpoint for how their work is read.

‘It’s possible and useful to recognise shared themes within a community, because I think it allows a framework for deeper analysis,’ she says. ‘And the important part is the deeper analysis.

‘What we’re trying to do with the show is understand the details, systems and thinking that have informed individual designers. In the past, it’s been fairly typical to stop at the Black, and that’s very much not what we’re doing here.’

That analysis inevitably raises another question: who has historically been afforded the authority to decide what enters the design canon?

‘When we’re talking about the canon, we’re really discussing museum collections and established literature,’ Prempeh says. ‘It’s obvious who decides what enters those canons, it’s the directors of the museums and it’s the publishing houses. And so as much as I would like to say that all of the work that is done independently on the fringes is enough, I think it’s equally important to make sure that those often marginalised stories become part of these institutions.’

For Prempeh, challenging those structures can happen from inside established institutions or beyond them.

‘They’re gaining entry into these existing spaces and once they’re there, they’re shaping or they’re reshaping what those spaces are or what they can be,’ she says. ‘They’re also moving out of them completely and forming their own structures. I think both are equally important.’

That freedom also applies to the stories Black designers choose to tell about themselves.

‘Black designers now, I hope and feel, can decide when they want to tell stories about their Blackness and they can decide what part of their Blackness they want to talk about and when. And that’s the kind of freedom I think not just Black designers, but all designers deserve.’

She also questions why the responsibility for understanding those practices should continually fall on the designers themselves. When I ask what happens when Black designers no longer have to make themselves legible to predominantly white institutions, Prempeh turns the question around. ‘I think very much the onus is on the institutions to meet Black designers where they are and to make an effort to research and understand the integrity and intention of the Black designers. Because the only people missing out when that doesn’t happen are the institutions and their audiences.

‘Black design and the Black designers, not just in the show but globally, deserve to be seen and presented and understood fully.’

The exhibition closes with a new site-specific commission by Nigerian American designer and Wallpaper* US400 honoree Ini Archibong. ‘Mfon’, meaning ‘grace’ in Nigeria’s Ibibio language, is a vast chandelier made from hand-blown Murano glass and experienced alongside an ambient soundtrack. Its scale gives the different experiences, identities and localities carried through the exhibition room to coexist.

‘I think in terms of my own writing and curatorial practice, it’s always been about a series of questions being proposed as opposed to resolved,’ Prempeh says. ‘I think I want this moment at the end of the exhibition to do that for the visitors, for them to stop and start thinking about what the questions are.

‘I want the visitors to leave with curiosity,’ she says. ‘If they leave with a curiosity about Black design then I’ve more than achieved my goal and I’d be very happy.’

‘The Nue Black Aesthetic’ is at the Design Museum, London, from 6 November 2026 to 8 August 2027

We spend nearly a third of our life working. And if you consider that we spend around a third of our life sleeping, then it adds up that we spend less time with our families and on leisure pursuits than we do taking meetings, drawing up spreadsheets, balancing books or operating machinery. So, in an ideal world, this place that you spend so much time in should have its pleasurable moments.

New Balance felt the same way when it commissioned a garden for its UK headquarters. This tranquil new outdoor space, named the Flimby Garden, is located alongside the American footwear brand’s Cumbria factory, and has been designed as a place exclusively for its 300-odd employees to step away from the cacophonous production floor and spend time immersed in nature.

Step into the New Balance garden in Cumbria

This is more than just a landscape project. A significant number of scientific studies have highlighted how green spaces in the workplace can lead to a significant reduction in stress levels, a boost in creativity and productivity, and even enhanced cognitive function, and the garden is a reflection of New Balance’s longstanding belief that exceptional craftsmanship begins with keeping the people that make its products happy. As one of the few global footwear brands to maintain domestic manufacturing in both the UK and the US, New Balance continues to invest in the factories, communities and skilled makers that define its legacy, and the garden is a lasting symbol of that commitment, offering employees a dedicated restorative space for resting, reflecting and connecting.

The garden’s creator is Bleue Wickham-Burnham, founder of London-based jewellery brand Bleue Burnham. A jewellery designer may seem an unusual choice for such a project, but Wickham-Burnham had already been talking with the brand about other collaborations when a conversation unearthed that he was also an enthusiastic amateur gardener and keen to try his hand on a more professional plane. The passion had blossomed in his late teens growing up in East Sussex and is evident in his jewellery output, which is heavily influenced by horticulture and the natural world.

Echoing the surrounding landscape of the Lake District, the garden features gently undulating flower beds, pockets of water and flowering cherry trees, as well as seating areas, communal gathering points and customised multicoloured bird boxes. Taking inspiration from the bold New Perennial block plantings of designers such as Piet Oudolf and cottage garden styles such as those at Great Dixter and Sissinghurst, alongside pre-Raphaelite floral renderings and 17th-century topiary, the Flimby garden is filled with varieties that include roses, peonies, anemones, foxgloves and lilies, and is already a much loved haven for local birds, bees and other wildlife (a stoat family being regular visitors), as well as for the factory’s employees, some of whom participated in the planting.

‘It was both a privilege and an honour to have been entrusted with designing a garden for New Balance,’ says Wickham-Burnham. ‘The project gave us the opportunity to explore how our design language and philosophy could interact with garden design, creating a space that is playful in its design, while encouraging moments of pause, connection and joy throughout the working day.’

To coincide with the garden’s opening, New Balance and Bleue Burnham have also produced a documentary-style film chronicling the development of the project from concept to completion. The film includes a special appearance from renowned gardener and broadcaster Monty Don, a hero of Wickham-Burnham, who grew up glued to the BBC’s Gardeners’ World. ‘They say never meet your hero, because they often disappoint you,’ he notes. ‘But in my case, it was the opposite.’

A chair was never an anonymous piece of furniture in Yinka Ilori’s childhood home. Each member of the family had their own, and sitting in somebody else’s seat came with the peculiar feeling that you had crossed a personal boundary.

That early relationship with furniture sits at the heart of Chairman, Ilori’s forthcoming debut book and the first comprehensive account of his celebrated chair works. Published by ORO Editions and available to pre-order now ahead of its release this September, the 120-page monograph brings together more than a decade of his practice, following the development of a design language shaped by his Nigerian heritage, his London upbringing and a fascination with the stories we attach to everyday objects.

Newly commissioned photography sits alongside archival material and glimpses of Ilori’s studio, following the chairs from discarded pieces of furniture through restoration and towards their final surfaces. Contributions from poet, artist and filmmaker Julianknxx, curator and writer Jareh Das, designer Martino Gamper and furniture designer Jane Atfield consider the work through material culture, sustainability, authorship and diasporic identity.

The book’s title has its own cultural reference point. In ‘Ijoko Agba’ (2013), translated as ‘Big Man’s Chair’, Ilori looks to the Nigerian idea of the chairman as a respected figure of authority. The chair brings British furniture design together with African textiles, drawing from Ilori’s own experience of growing up between British and Nigerian cultures.

Ilori started out collecting secondhand and abandoned furniture from London’s streets and charity shops, restoring and remaking each piece through paint, pattern, upholstery and sometimes fairly radical structural changes. Arms were extended, legs cut and reattached, backrests turned in unexpected directions. You can still recognise the chair that was there before, though what it might mean, or even how you are supposed to use it, has changed. Familiar British furniture forms sit alongside Nigerian textiles, bold colour and the oral traditions he grew up with.

Many of the chairs begin with parables Ilori heard as a child. He rarely tries to tell the whole story through a single object, but instead might pick out a word, a gesture or one particular character and find a physical language for it. A giraffe’s long neck, for example, can become an elongated section of a chair. Colour and print come later, something Ilori compares to ‘having Sunday roast and then getting dessert’.

‘Oba Kekere’ (2013), meaning ‘Small King’ in Yoruba, is upholstered in Aso Oke fabric from Ondo State, where Ilori’s late mother was born. Ilori shortened one leg, then added pieces of wood to bring the chair back into balance. Its low stature recalls a child’s seat and plays with ideas of hierarchy, particularly the position given to those considered small within it.

‘Osumare’ (2014), the Yoruba word for ‘rainbow’, grew out of a conversation about sexuality, masculinity, and faith. Ilori was inspired by a friend who spoke openly to him about feelings he had kept private for a long time. The chair’s lowered backrest came from thinking about the judgement placed on people when others decide their experiences are wrong.

Some of Ilori’s interventions leave the chairs impractical, while others refuse conventional use altogether. A stool may lose a leg; another piece might gain hooks in a place where they appear to make little practical sense. For Ilori, function is something that can be played with. A chair can be sat on, looked at, questioned, or understood as sculpture. What somebody makes of it is open to interpretation.

Among the later works is ‘Transparency Akoyawo I’ (2023), which looks to the migration experiences of Ilori’s parents. Rough openings have been cut through its centre and filled with resin, exposing what Ilori describes as ideas of hidden pain and resilience. MCM textiles in brown, black, pink and blue-grey cover the chair, bringing together references to lives formed across different places.

The book arrives during a particularly active period for Ilori. This summer, he released his first full furniture and homeware collection with Dunelm, a 40-piece collaboration shaped by ideas of community, shared heritage and accessible design. His first solo London gallery exhibition followed at Cristea Roberts Gallery, where ‘Joy Through Resistance: He Who Laughs Last, Laughs Best’ brought together new paintings, prints, sculpture and an immersive sound installation.

Chairman by Yinka Ilori, $40, hardback, 120 pages, published by ORO Editions in autumn 2026 and available to pre-order now

Island Records and EMI have come together under one roof at a newly unveiled shared headquarters in King's Cross, London, the result of an 18-month collaboration between spatial design studio Interesting Projects and Studio Island, the labels' in-house creative team. But rather than merge two identities into one, the studios treated the brief as a curatorial challenge, bringing two labels with distinct personalities and legacies together in one space.

The answer was to approach the space like it was an exhibition. 'Commissioning and collaborating with Interesting Projects stemmed from my deep admiration for their exhibition design for the Keith Haring retrospective at Tate Liverpool in 2019,' explains Holly Williams, creative director at Studio Island, of why the design duo made a natural choice for this project.

Inside Island Records and EMI's London HQ: ‘a museum to the labels’

James Mason and Joana Filipe, directors of Interesting Projects, approached the commission like 'a museum to the labels', explaining the ask was for 'a space that feels alive, relevant and connected to the way music is made and experienced today'.

That thinking plays out as two parallel stories. Island's entrance is staged like, well, a stage, its base nodding to carnival sound systems, opening into a mural of Bob Marley's ‘One Love’, painted by British-Jamaican signwriter SignsbyJorge as a twin to an original in Jamaica by the Nurse Signs Collective. Both murals carry the signwriters' mobile numbers, painted on; Williams explains that 'if you need a mural, you know who to call'.

EMI's entrance takes a different route, built as a curated archive of memorabilia, photography and correspondence, including a letter criticising the label's decision to sign the Sex Pistols. Further in, a Corbin Shaw textile piece, Just Four Lads From Liverpool, reworks Burberry check into a Beatles homage. 'Corbin was top of our list for EMI because his practice explores Britishness, identity and often masculinity,' Williams says.

The two labels touch in the kitchen and dining area. A window was cut into the kitchen wall onto the Island side, framing a photograph of a young Amy Winehouse from the Frank era. Opposite, in a separate eating space, a matching window opens onto EMI's red wall, where Corbin Shaw's Beatles piece sits in conversation with an iconic shot of the Spice Girls.

'Island Records and EMI are united by a commitment to exceptional artists and enduring music, while each has its own distinct identity,' says Louis Bloom, president of Island Records EMI Label Group. 'The new office brings this shared ethos to life with a bold, collaborative space that celebrates the heritage of both labels while inspiring creativity, connection, and the next generation of artists.'

For Williams, the best thing about the project is the learning opportunities it has brought. EMI's history mural alone spans almost a century of British music milestones, including the fact that King George VI's 1939 speech declaring Britain's entry into the Second World War was recorded at Abbey Road. 'Through the art,’ she says, ‘staff and artists have learnt more about the history of both labels.’

The moment you cross the threshold of independent film distribution and production company Neon Rated, you enter a world that pays homage to the past, present and future of movies. A pair of low-profile 1960s ‘Djinn' chairs in the reception area echo their appearance in Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, a reminder of HAL, the movie's artificial intelligence character, which seems eerily prescient in the current climate. Illuminated by a custom-designed pendant lamp composed of vintage Fresnel camera lenses, the room is overlooked by a light box transformed into a painting – a still from Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), one of the company's many successful releases, which offers a visual portal into the 18th-century drama about love, seeing and being seen for who you truly are.

Step inside Neon Rated's Santa Monica offices

Designed by the LA-based Studio Muka, led by husband-and-wife team and Wallpaper* US400 honorees Zabie Mustafa and Neda Kakhsaz, Neon's new Santa Monica office is serene but full of seductive curves, and a palette that feels more like a film set than a commercial office space, especially in a town where media companies often opt for bright white, minimalist restraint. But then the company is known in Hollywood as a disruptor, with consecutive Palme d'Or wins for movies that include Anora (2024), Anatomy of a Fall (2023), Triangle of Sadness (2022) and Parasite (2019), as well as accumulating multiple Academy Award nominations, including wins for Anora and Parasite.

Neon founder Tom Quinn first connected with Studio Muka when he and his wife hired them to renovate their LA home. Quinn was so impressed with their aesthetic and demeanour that he engaged them to design Neon's new headquarters. ‘They have the calmness of well-trained astronauts, which is quite infectious,' says Quinn, adding, ‘I consider our office and company to be a kind of atelier dedicated to creativity, and Zabie and Neda are forever curious, which anyone who is truly creative is.'

That creative spirit culminates in a humanistic space where the details matter: bullnose desk edges soften impact on computer users, and a breakout space with upholstered banquettes, tables and flattering lighting is more akin to a Milanese café than an office seating area, serving as a place to share a meal, hold a meeting or work quietly.

Based at Santa Monica Airport, the 10,000 sq ft space is striking both for what Mustafa and Kakhsaz added and what they left behind. They ground down the concrete floor to its aggregate, which gives the impression of terrazzo, added custom rugs in jewel tones for softness, and opened the space up with an interior central courtyard. By leaving the ceilings exposed with beams and columns, they created a refined rawness that reveals the building's history. ‘This is an adaptive reuse project,' says Mustafa of the building, which was originally built in the 1940s. ‘We wanted to build a space for a community of cinephiles that are producing some of the world's best independent films.'

The custom-designed oak millwork throughout has a luxurious streamlined sensibility that alludes to old Hollywood, as does a purposeful reference to Rolleiflex twin lens cameras via a series of double holes in doors and walls. The oak is also an additional architectural nod. ‘We're in Santa Monica,' says Kakhsaz. ‘There's a little bit of [Frank] Gehry DNA in this part of town, so we didn't want to use rich coloured wood, but instead used oak plywood, something that Gehry would use to change the perception of an inexpensive material by using it in a sophisticated manner.'

Meanwhile, the heart of the office is a state-of-the-art screening room that is just as much about glamour as it is about function. Kakhsaz and Mustafa designed the automated, generously-sized reclining theatre seats, keeping German industrial designer Dieter Rams in mind as inspiration. The room's serene deep blue colour envelops the movie viewer in a calm, immersive space punctuated by Studio Muka-designed sconces, formed from single folded metal sheets and layered with subway grating.

Kakhsaz points out that most of the objects and furniture they used in the design were either historically significant or customised to capture the ethos of filmmaking. Take, for example, the chunky, postmodern Studio Muka-designed lounge chairs – inspired by automotive design, they are covered in a Raf Simons bouclé fabric and directly reference Neon's 2023 Michael Mann-directed film Ferrari. A sense of place also played a role – the romance of an airport, a feeling that you can go anywhere in an instant had a visceral appeal for Quinn, who not only loves aviation, but likened the allure to Rick's Café in the 1942 film Casablanca. The mythical bar acted not only as a physical crossroads, but also as a space for wanderers and refugees, offering the perfect metaphor for a company with a global perspective. It's no surprise that, as the design process unfolded, Kakhsaz and Mustafa kept defaulting to filmmaking and their love of films. ‘That was the root of the story we wanted to tap into,' says Kakhsaz. ‘For us, cinephiles are some of the best storytellers, and we just wanted to honour that art and Neon's origins.'

This article appears in the August 2026 Issue of Wallpaper*, available now in print on newsstands, on the Wallpaper* app on Apple iOS, and to subscribers of Apple News +. Subscribe to Wallpaper* today

At Wallpaper*, we're always on the hunt for objects, homeware, accessories, fashion and tech that push the boundaries. The Design Drop brings together the month's most compelling finds.

In July: a legacy Italian sofa reupholstered for a new era, a foldable phone rethinking what ‘foldable’ means, and kitchenware finished in an of-the-moment shade. Architecture books rub shoulders with cult fragrances, archive-referencing footwear sits next to hand-cast jewellery, and a fridge gets the kind of finish usually reserved for supercars.

Read on for inspiration, temptation or both.