If there’s one thing that Wallpaper* does well, it’s houses – spotlighting architecturally arresting gems from around the globe and spanning the spectrum of modern design. Our inboxes are overflowing with news of the world’s most boundary-pushing architectural projects, and we strive to bring you the very best.

To ensure you don’t miss a thing – and to showcase the scope of residential architecture today – we’ve launched a monthly series: The Architecture Edit. Each instalment will highlight our favourite houses of the month: buildings that demonstrate creative planning, innovative methods and, of course, aesthetic excellence.

A Californian community

Set within California’s Sea Ranch community, The House of Four Ecologies is a coastal retreat designed by a group of architect friends. Led by James Leng alongside Natasha Sadikin, Juney Lee and Hoang Nguyen, the 1,600 sq ft home is conceived as four distinct volumes nestled into a riparian corridor of firs, grasses and shrubs. Each space is oriented to a different ecological condition, creating varied relationships to ocean, garden, meadow and forest. Inside, rooms unfold as experiential moments: the Ocean Room frames the Pacific through a single large window; the Garden Room blurs interior and exterior with sliding walls and a courtyard; the kitchen and dining area forms the social heart; and an ensuite studio overlooks the meadow beyond.

A sunken garden home

Designed by architect couple Deborah Saunt and David Hills of DSDHA, Covert House is a discreet yet radical response to London’s housing constraints. Tucked behind Clapham Old Town’s historic terraces, the house is invisible from the street, sinking partly below ground. Built on a speculative backland site, the project became both a family home and a testing ground for the architects’ broader ideas about urban living. Cast concrete defines the structure, alternating between raw and refined finishes, while large skylights and glazed façades flood the interior with daylight. The inverted layout places living spaces above and bedrooms below,. Reading a bit like a pavilion set within greenery, the house demonstrates how dense cities can accommodate inventive, sustainable architecture.

A Tbilisi apartment

In a historic art nouveau building in Tbilisi’s Sololaki district, designers Nino Nozadze and Eka Papamichail have reimagined an apartment for Georgian chef Tekuna Gachechiladze. Original parquet floors, tall ceilings and double doors preserve the building’s character, while new material interventions introduce warmth and clarity. Walnut furniture, plastered walls and a sculptural coffered ceiling shape the living spaces, anchored by a long dining table. The kitchen combines professional stainless-steel surfaces with generous daylight and garden views, functioning as both workspace and social hub. Throughout the apartment, muted ochres, greens and turquoise accents act as subtle architectural gestures, while bathrooms introduce marble and travertine tones.

A Canadian ranch

Daisy Ranch, designed by Olson Kundig for builder and fabricator Patrick Powers, is a home rooted in adventure, craft and landscape. Set on Salt Spring Island in British Columbia, the cabin-like residence responds to its rugged surroundings with durable materials and a straightforward architectural framework. Inspired partly by the brick farmhouse Powers grew up in, the house features expansive windows that forge a strong connection to nature. The interior acts as a living archive of family history, filled with found objects and personal artefacts, including a canoe suspended from the ceiling. Designed to withstand the energy of family life, Daisy Ranch is a robust home that celebrates making and memory.

A Richard Neutra landmark

Richard Neutra’s 1960 Sale House in Los Angeles was listed for sale this month, offering a rare opportunity to inhabit a meticulously restored modernist landmark. Originally commissioned by Robert and Elsa Sale, the single-storey home exemplifies Neutra’s signature glass-walled design, with fluid living spaces radiating from a central kitchen. Panoramic glazing frames views of protected greenbelt land, city lights and the Pacific Ocean, allowing the house to shift with the seasons. Original details – including built-in furniture and mosaic tile work by Elsa Sale – were preserved during a sensitive restoration completed in 2021. The house has always remained fully lived in rather than museum-like, embodying Neutra’s belief that architecture should enhance wellbeing.

A Czech chalet

Na Kukačkách is a contemporary reinterpretation of the traditional alpine chalet, designed by edit! architects in the Giant Mountains of the Czech Republic. While the exterior adheres strictly to local building codes – with a timber-clad form, gabled roof and stone plinth – the interior introduces a bold, vertically connected spatial experience. Built using prefabricated cross-laminated timber panels, the chalet maximises daylight and views through large-format glazing on its freer façades. The main living space occupies the first floor, where a soaring timber ceiling and expansive west-facing window frame the mountainous landscape. Bedrooms are tucked into the eaves above, linked by a gallery that overlooks the living area.

A calming Palma home

Casa Óculo, designed by OHLAB on the outskirts of Palma, is a contemporary Mediterranean home shaped by light and material ageing. Defined by a large flat roof stretching across the site, the house is organised beneath thick lime-rendered walls that rhythmically divide interior spaces. A circular oculus punctures the roof, functioning as a domestic sundial that tracks the sun’s movement throughout the day. Materials – lime mortar, stone floors, wood and brass – were chosen for their ability to weather gracefully, and a lush Mediterranean garden is treated as an extension of the house, merging interior and exterior life. Casa Óculo offers a calm, sensory environment where architecture quietly frames the passage of time.

A woodland retreat

What began as a simple weekend retreat for a New York City couple evolved into a lifestyle transformation anchored by architecture and farming. Designed by Desai Chia Architecture, this house sits atop an 86-acre site in Columbia County with sweeping views of the Catskill Mountains. The low, elongated structure is organised around a central glass-walled living space, with bedroom wings extending on either side. A sweeping curved roof, inspired by the silhouette of oak leaves, shapes light, directs rainwater and softens the building’s relationship to the land. As the project unfolded, a working farm emerged alongside the house, turning the retreat into an immersive, seasonal way of life deeply connected to place.

A London retrofit

Trace is a low-carbon retrofit project by Bureau de Change that reimagines a 1980s brick building in Euston as contemporary multi-family housing rooted in circular design principles. Rather than demolish the existing structure, the architects retained and extended it, adding two floors to create five new apartments. The most distinctive feature is the bespoke glass-reinforced concrete façade, made using crushed bricks salvaged from the original building. Inspired by Georgian proportions and arches, and ntegrated into the wider Euston Area Plan, Trace demonstrates how reuse, material innovation and architectural sensitivity can offer a compelling model for urban housing.

Community and creativity are reshaping daily life in this edit of storied destinations, set to define the travel conversation for 2026. Each offers more than surface appeal – through architectural ambition, grassroots cultural energy, or a renewed sense of purpose – and rewards visitors willing to look a little deeper.

Where to travel in 2026

Hiroshima, Japan

Eighty years on, Hiroshima is no longer defined by a single moment in time, but by what emerged from it: a city rebuilt through architecture. From the ruins of wartime devastation came a bold modernist vision, shaped by figures such as Kenzo Tange and Togo Murano, later extended by contemporary masters including Tadao Ando, Shigeru Ban and Jun Aoki, among others. That legacy feels newly energised today. The launch of the three-yearly Hiroshima Architecture Exhibition this year positions the city as a centre for architectural discourse, uniting Pritzker Prize winners, experimental practices and emerging voices. When the festival is not on, highlights remain plentiful: from Shigeru Ban’s Simose Art Garden Villa to Kisho Kurokawa’s restored Hiroshima City Museum of Contemporary Art. Beyond the city, the wider prefecture unfolds as a constellation of design destinations in its own right.

Read our full feature on Hiroshima

Hong Kong

Few skylines are as instantly recognisable as Hong Kong’s, but to understand the city is to look beyond its serrated outline of glass towers and jade-green peaks. Long defined as a global financial hub and gateway between East and West, Hong Kong today reveals itself as something more layered: a place where heritage, nature and creativity reshape its identity. Icons such as I.M. Pei’s Bank of China Tower and Norman Foster’s HSBC Building anchor the skyline, while adaptive-reuse projects signal a shift in mindset. Tai Kwun, PMQ and The Mills transform former police quarters and factories into cultural engines. Beyond Central, districts such as Sham Shui Po pulse with everyday life and creative reinvention, where design studios, tofu shops and neon-lit markets coexist. Add to this more than 40 per cent protected green space, and Hong Kong emerges as a city of rare duality – resilient, evolving and deeply alive.

Read our full feature on Hong Kong

San Miguel de Allende, Mexico

Along the cobbled streets of San Miguel de Allende, colour seeps from every corner. Painted façades, marigold-framed doorways and sunlit courtyards set the rhythm of daily life, anchored by the city’s distinctive pink parish church rising above the rooftops. Long admired for its historic character, the highland town today is experiencing a renewed creative energy, drawing designers, artists and makers in search of light, pace and a deeper connection to craft. Once a magnet for 20th-century painters, writers and intellectuals, San Miguel is again evolving. Studios, galleries and small design-led businesses sit alongside long-established workshops specialising in textiles, ceramics and copper, encouraging close collaboration and a slower, more considered way of working.

Read our full feature on San Miguel de Allende

Tashkent, Uzbekistan

Set midway between Europe and China, Tashkent rises from the Central Asian steppe as one of the Silk Road’s most layered cities. Shaped by Arab, Persian, Mongol and Russian rule, it became the capital of an independent Uzbekistan in 1991 after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Few places reveal history so vividly. Ancient Islamic quarters sit beside Imperial Russian boulevards, Stalinist monuments and the boldly imaginative Soviet modernism of the 1960s and 70s. While parts of that legacy are being reshaped by new marble-clad developments, many landmarks endure: the Hotel Uzbekistan, the sculptural Chorsu Bazaar and a metro system whose chandeliers and marble halls feel closer to a palace than public transport. Emerging from decades of isolation, Tashkent remains refreshingly untouched by mass tourism, with leafy parks, open-air markets and a café culture that feels unhurried and genuine. It is a city rediscovering itself.

Read our full feature on Tashkent

Tbilisi, Georgia

The Georgian capital is defined by a fiercely independent cultural spirit forged over millennia and sharpened by adversity. While the country’s political climate is fraught, its creative life remains defiantly alive. Artists, designers, musicians and chefs continue to build, make and gather, sustaining a city where culture functions as both refuge and resistance. Today, Georgian wine, food and hospitality are legendary. New spaces reflect this momentum, including the recently opened Telegraph Hotel, which has quickly become a social anchor for the city’s creative community. From neighbourhood hotels, restaurants and nightclubs that double as communal living rooms, to studios where fashion, art and craft evolve hand-in-hand with tradition, Tbilisi is a city that has learned how to endure.

Read our full feature on Tbilisi

A landmark brutalist building on Tbilisi’s Rustaveli Avenue has been transformed into the first Leading Hotels of the World property in the Caucasus region. A new lease of life has been injected into the former telegram office, becoming a re-energising project that honours its architectural and historic heritage, while reinterpreting the building’s social significance.

Wallpaper* checks in at The Telegraph Hotel, Tbilisi

What’s on your doorstep?

The gridded Bolsini tuff (volcanic stone) façade of The Telegraph Hotel, a 1970s brutalist landmark designed by Georgian architects Lado Alexi-Meskhishvili and Teimuraz Mikashavidze, looms large on both Republic Square and Tbilisi’s main artery, Rustaveli Avenue. The eclectic architectural tapestry on this busy thoroughfare reflects Tbilisi’s position as a crossroads between East and West, as well as the influences of occupations past.

Turning left from the hotel, a few doors down is a former cadet corps building-turned-the Museum of Modern Art, while the Neo-Moorish Opera and Ballet State Theatre, Kashveti Church, baroque-style Georgian National Gallery and Soviet-era Georgian Parliament building – where protestors gather when political tensions rise – are within a few hundred metres. Head right and across the road, and cable cars run from the Lower Rustaveli-Mtatsminda Station ascending to 727m above sea level, where Mtatsminda Park offers the best views of Tbilisi’s urban, mountainous sprawl.

Who is behind the design?

Silk Development enlisted architectural design practice Neri&Hu, founded by Lyndon Neri and Rosanna Hu, to transform the long-abandoned heritage building. The studio’s Georgian debut takes inspiration from Tbilisi’s 16th-century caravanserai. ‘What if we could imagine this urban artefact, which used to be Tbilisi’s central nervous system for communication, as a new caravanserai?’ explains Neri. And so, the idea of a ‘city within a building’ was born; on the ground floor, a network of corridors tiled in travertine stone references Tbilisi’s alleyways, while several restaurants and a wine library sit around a central courtyard.

An open-to-the-sky reinterpretation of an urban square, here, a matte blackened stainless steel framework is softened by cascading vines, while the ground level bar –where lemongrass-midori sours are served – reactivates the building’s role as a gathering space. Neri&Hu’s approach was ‘not an act of restoration, but a critical reinterpretation’, Neri says. Throughout, there’s an elegant dialogue between past and present; along corridors, original, weathered concrete pillars have been integrated, providing a visual echo of the past, while golden dots and dashes on revolving entrance doors pay homage to the Morse Code tapped out by yesteryears’ telegram operators.

The room to book

Encircling the main courtyard, 239 calming and tranquil rooms are reached via a staircase lit by custom, 35m-long black steel and glass lighting. While the corridors are low-lit, inside, each room’s a light-filled masterclass in monochrome contrast. A linear flow from the entrance, and walls made from fluted glass and blackened aluminium profiles dividing bathroom, bedroom and living area take inspiration from graceful train carriages, and nod to Tbilisi’s position on the Silk Road journey. The interiors’ recurring straight black lines are mirrored in bedlinen piping, complemented by Neri&Hu’s ‘nh 1217’ spherical blown glass and brushed brass lights for Artemide, and headboards in a gentle green shade that's a subtle nod to Tbilisi’s lush mountain landscapes.

The sixth-floor Junior Club Suites are extra special, thanks to their own terrace, and bathrooms with freestanding ‘Cuna’ bathtubs by Patricia Urquiola for Agape (smaller suites feature ‘Immersion’ bathtubs by Neri&Hu for Agape, while all categories are stocked with Diptyque Fleur de Peu amenities). In terms of the 29 sq m Classic Rooms, plump for those facing Rustaveli Avenue for views towards hilltop Mtatsminda Park (on levels 1-4, its rooms ending 1-20). Also, 11 accessible rooms feature a similar design style, but have widened corridors, grab rails, lowered sinks and roll-in showers.

Staying for drinks and dinner?

Of the nine F&B outlets, Grand Cafe is particularly impressive. Deep coffered ceilings, inspired by Adolf Loos’ American Bar in Vienna, emphasise the rhythm of the space’s gridded columns, while walls topped with antique mirrors, white linen tablecloths, and walnut banquette seating and chairs from Stellar Works’ ‘Bund’ collection (designed by Neri&Hu) give the surroundings a Parisian-feel flair. On the Georgian-centric menu, many dishes cooked in a traditional torne oven, highlights include breaded aubergine with walnut on cornbread waffles, bursting-with-flavour tomato and sulguni salads and mini khachapuri breads. At the plentiful buffet breakfast spread, the baked berry and croissant pudding is splendid.

Equally appealing is Laan Thai, helmed by acclaimed chef Rose Chalalai Singh. An entrance, heralded by a half-wall of Mutina terracotta blocks, leads to a glass and metal-filled space, channelling hip Bangkok eatery with authentic-as-it-comes pad thai and mango sticky rice to boot. In cafe and co-working space Bell&Grey, De La Espada Capo bar stools line a walnut wood capsule-shaped bar with a sweeping green Verde Alpi marble countertop, where poke bowls and green juices are served. There’s also Georgian-accented Italian at Philosophico restaurant, and Purple Haze cocktails at rooftop Rolling Stone bar, where concrete walls are hung with magazine cover shots of the likes of Little Richard. Ramping up the sultry stakes is colour-drenched basement joint Tatusa Jazz Club, a space dreamt up by Georgian designer Ketuna Kruashvili, enveloped by red velvet curtains, glinting gold and silver In The Sun Wall lighting by DCW editions, and with bespoke, locally-made wooden tables topped with crimson lacquer.

Where to switch off

The Wine Library, on the hotel’s ground floor, with its curved walnut veneer panelling and arches referencing the spatial construct of historic caravanserai, is a cosseting, cosy place to get up on Georgian wines; don’t miss sipping the spoils of sister hotel Tsinandali Estate’s vineyards, which are in the heart of the famed Kakheti wine region. For those wanting to play at DJ, a tucked-away private lounge, walls lined with records, and books curated by local concept bookshop They Said Books, has its own vinyl booth with a Pro-Ject X1 B turntable.

As well as a gym and treatment rooms for facials and massages (which range from de-stressing hot stone to energising ginger-infused energy boosts) in The Telegraph Hotel’s basement, guests have access to two swimming pools – a 15.5m indoor pool, and a 19.5m outdoor number – at the Radisson Blu Iveria Hotel next door. For extra zen? The Telegraph’s personable staff will happily direct guests to the botanical gardens and sulphur spring soaks at Gulo’s Thermal Spa.

The verdict

Sensitively approached and delivered in style, The Telegraph Hotel is a welcome addition to Tbilisi’s evolving hotel scene. Neri&Hu’s understated yet striking clean-line design, which pays tribute to its brutalist heritage whilst injecting new dynamism, combined with welcoming, polished service, is a winning combination. There’s a pleasing balance in contrasts; dark and light, bedrooms delivering restful retreat, and a roster of top-notch restaurants and bars – already passing the as-booked-by-locals-as-guests litmus success test – awaken a dormant building, allowing it to pulse with life once more. At a time when celebrating difference feels more important than ever, hotels designed to draw people in, encourage gathering, connection and diversity in an east-meets-west crossroads, feel timely.

The Telegraph is located at 31, Shota Rustaveli Avenue, 0108, Tbilisi, Georgia.

Also read: Take a trip to Tbilisi, where defiant creatives are forging a vibrant cultural future

Tbilisi is simmering in the heat of high summer. Bark from the giant plane trees that line the leafier streets is peeling off the trunks in great slabs and shattering dramatically on the streets. Swallows are shrieking in the sky. The glare overhead casts surreal shadows that distort life below. The mood is oppressive and uncanny.

The feeling is matched by the political situation in Georgia at present, where the disputed ruling Georgian Dream party has introduced a raft of laws that signal an isolationist, regressive and anti-democratic stance, dismantling the country’s pending candidate status for EU membership. In the elections of October 2024, despite exit polls suggesting a coalition of opposition parties were set for victory, an outright majority was declared for the Georgian Dream party. After the election, pro-democracy protests outside the parliament buildings in Tbilisi were met with violence and tear gas. Members of the political opposition have been jailed on charges of corruption without trial.

Speak to people in the capital and they describe the cognitive dissonance of living under an authoritarian regime still masquerading as a functioning government. When the apparatus of democracy disintegrates, civic society is left suspended. The prevailing feeling is to keep going, head down, day by day, in the hope that Georgia’s long history and strong culture are more powerful than its current politics.

While Georgia may technically be young as a post-Soviet independent country in modern terms, its cultural history stretches back over five millennia. It is where the earliest evidence of winemaking and gold-mining has been found. Today, Georgian wine, food and hospitality are legendary. The country has its own beautiful script and sonorous language, and in 2001, Georgian polyphonic singing was designated by Unesco as a ‘masterpiece of the oral and intangible heritage of humanity’. Tbilisi is known as ‘the immortal city’, not just because it is one of the world’s oldest urban settlements, but for its ability to withstand hardship.

Its politics may be sinister at present, but Georgian culture is passionately independent. It has been safeguarded through periods of occupation and dissent, by a population that is fiercely proud of its cultural heritage. We visited Tbilisi 15 years ago, when former president Mikheil Saakashvili was in power, and busy dismantling the civil service in the name of progress. The mood then was febrile – with generations pitted against each other in a battle between preserving the past and forging the future. Tbilisi’s young creative community was ignited by this tension – called upon to define and redefine identity through art, design, food, architecture, music.

Fifteen years later, in a very different political reality, it is precisely this plucky and defiant cultural resilience that we set out to document in this portfolio (below). Each individual is a success story in their own right; together, they say something bigger about culture’s capacity to hold truth and inspire hope for future generations.

One of our featured cultural protagonists quotes the 19th-century composer Gustav Mahler: ‘Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire,’ by way of describing the collective mission to keep the flames of progress alive in Georgian culture for the nation’s youth. It’s a poetic and poignant call to arms. ‘We can shout in the streets,’ they say, ‘or we can demonstrate our power with our hearts instead.’

13 voices from Tbilisi’s cultural heart

Bellhop Hotel

Bellhop is a new hotel, run by childhood friends Nata Zarnadze and Anka Totibadze, which opened this summer in a former steel fabrication factory. It’s also a new type of hospitality in Tbilisi. ‘We are a neighbourhood hotel,’ explains Totibadze. ‘A place for locals and tourists together, designed by and for us. We wanted to make a place where we feel good, something for our friends and the community.’

‘Georgian hospitality is in everyone’s nature,’ says Zarnadze. ‘We like to please people – if someone crosses your door, you do everything to make them feel special. This attitude has played a huge part in our hiring strategy. Irakli Adamia’s cocktails are, honestly, some of the best in the world. Beka Tolordava remembers every guest’s name and order. We don’t just want to be good for Tbilisi or Georgia – we want to have an offer that matches what you find in New York, London or Paris.’

Totibadze, who worked for TBC, one of Georgia’s largest banks, for 20 years, chips in: ‘Hospitality is so important because you get to show who you are as a culture and country to guests. Tourism is one of the first sectors to be affected when the political climate goes awry. Ultimately, it is our job to do our best to make people feel good. If you don’t strive to be the best you can be, then you don’t grow – or survive, even.’ @bellhophotel

Gacha Bakradze and Lika Rigvava, nightclub co-founders

Left Bank is a nightclub that behaves more like a third space for Tbilisi’s cultural community. It was co-founded five years ago by music producer Gacha Bakradze and his partner Lika Rigvava, a former model who, pre-pandemic, walked runways at all four fashion weeks and worked with Jil Sander and Gucci. ‘We had the idea for somewhere like Left Bank for a long time,’ Rigvava says. ‘We wanted to create music nights that feel like a house party, where people can chat and play chess, and listen to music for as long as they like.’

Many describe the alchemy of Left Bank as somewhere fun and safe that generates its own sense of belonging. ‘It’s more than a party venue,’ Bakradze explains. ‘We have people aged 18-65 who come regularly. Though music is at our core, we also host book presentations, movie screenings and workshops. It attracts different crowds with shared values – when they’re here together, people feel present and time is suspended. The crowd becomes like an ecosystem.’

‘There’s an unspoken code of conduct here,’ Rigvava adds. ‘When we opened during the pandemic, it was both the worst time and the best time. Face-covering rules were strict, but we flipped the message from one of control to mutual care and safety within the community. That safe sense of openness and togetherness is what makes Left Bank special.’ leftbank.club

Irakli Rusadze, fashion designer

Growing up in Tbilisi, Irakli Rusadze was always interested in fashion and art. Instead of studying fashion formally, at 15 he started drawing and selling sketches to other designers in the city. He worked in garment factories learning how to pattern-cut and sew. In 2016, he launched Situationist, his own womenswear (and, more recently, menswear) brand at Tbilisi Fashion Week. Success came quickly. The Milan Fashion Federation invited him to show in the Italian city and, for the past five years, he has been part of the Paris Fashion Week calendar. Bella Hadid was one of his first clients, and he has dressed Kim Kardashian and Juliette Binoche. Three years ago, he was asked to make a dress for Beyoncé, and has since delivered 100 garments for the singer’s world tour.

‘When you are a Georgian brand, you have to try 100 times harder to be noticed compared to people emerging in Europe or America,’ Rusadze says. ‘We are a small team of 12, and are very hands on. Everything is done in our atelier – we take orders and then we produce, which is the best way to be efficient and sustainable in a very wasteful industry.

‘Building a Georgian brand is hard, but we definitely have something to add. Fashion needs big investment and our economic situation here is terrible, but I am fortunate to have had great luck. In 2021, [Comme de Garçons president] Adrian Joffe was in Tbilisi on holiday. He got in touch to arrange a meeting and bought several pieces from our archive for Dover Street Market.’ situationist.online

Gvantsa Jishkariani, artist and curator

Artist and curator Gvantsa Jishkariani has two galleries in Tbilisi: Patara and The Why Not. She graduated in architecture from the Tbilisi State Academy of Arts in 2013, and her multimedia work has been exhibited and collected by notable public institutions and private collectors worldwide.

‘My artwork is based on the clash of tradition and reality,’ Jishkariani says. ‘I am interested in heritage craft with cultural associations and symbolism such as mosaic, tapestry and feltwork. They are in my DNA and I hated them as a child, but through my work I make my peace by inverting their historical tropes.’ Mosaic work was a typical form of Soviet propaganda art. Jishkariani detaches political meaning in her mosaic work to explore narratives of a more escapist tone. Conversely, tapestries were traditionally decorative works in Georgia, and Jishkariani enjoys making political and satirical statements with her tapestry work.

‘I’m constantly in battle with the cultural ideas we have inherited,’ she says. ‘Tbilisi is mad and overwhelming: everything can be good and everything can be bad. You love it and hate it in equal measure. The layers of life, time and emotions are almost impossible to reconcile, but that tension is also what makes it such an extraordinary place.’ gvantsajishkariani.com

Shotiko Aptsiauri, artist

Shotiko Aptsiauri is one of Georgia’s most exciting artists from the younger post-Soviet generation. In his cavernous, dark-painted studio space, surrounded by empty paint tubes, cigarette packets and Coke cans (his studio is in a building complex that was formerly a Coca-Cola factory), Aptsiauri describes the power and predicament of being an artist in Tbilisi. ‘We have an opportunity to define our own contemporary artistic language here in Georgia, separate from our Christian and Soviet heritage,’ he says. ‘We are in an interesting place and time: I am a first-generation artist in a country that is still recently independent from Soviet rule. I feel a great responsibility to develop an artistic language that I haven’t seen before, which combines inherited knowledge with a belief in our future.’

It’s a poignant remark that neatly captures the tension of the present political context. ‘There is zero support from our current government towards artists, and we are not allowed to receive funding from international bodies,’ Aptsiauri explains. ‘I am a painter by necessity, which might sound banal, but it’s a disturbing feeling. The system hates artists; coming to the studio to paint each day, even lifting a brush, feels like a political act.’ @shotikoaptsiauri

Kera Architects

Cousins Kote Gunia and Sandro Bakhtadze joined their friend Beka Gujejiani to form Kera in 2018, and the trio have a rock-star reputation among Tbilisi’s younger creatives. In Kera, they see Georgian architecture that is locally rooted and part of a global discourse. ‘Culture and context is everything,’ says Gunia. ‘We are concerned with reviving traditional knowledge, building techniques and material expertise, largely lost during 70 years of Soviet occupation, and translating this into a modern Georgian architectural language.’ Kera means ‘hearth’ in English, and the name refers to that primal idea of domestic inhabitation.

Kera (with Nana Zaalishvili, featured below) formed the Society of Georgian Architects earlier this year, with the aim of creating an organisation for knowledge sharing, and establishing regulations for better building practices. ‘We are a young country, in spite of our huge history,’ says Gujejiani. ‘Private property was non-existent in Soviet times, so different generations have differing understandings of what buildings mean and what architecture represents.’

Across the city, it’s evident there is an ongoing building boom. Former president Mikheil Saakashvili was enamoured with grand commissions by foreign architects, including Massimiliano Fuksas and Michele De Lucchi. Billboards and hoardings in Tbilisi show developers piling in, with little care or consideration for context or healthy urbanism. ‘Zero regulation leads to chaos,’ says Gunia.

‘There are pockets of optimism, though. A new architecture faculty at VAADS [the city’s art and design school] has an excellent programme and is inspiring a younger generation to value research and context. There is a small but growing interest in our rural architectural heritage, and examples of earth-building and workshops in vernacular materials and skills. Our ambition is to nurture a community of Georgian architects using design to revive and embed our cultural heritage for future generations.’ keraarch.ge

Lado Lomitashvili, designer

Lado Lomitashvili is a designer whose work sits somewhere between craft and art, product and interior design. His work is sold in collectible design galleries, but you might well find yourself sitting on his street furniture while in Tbilisi, too (outside Bellhop Hotel, for instance). ‘I describe myself as a contextual designer,’ Lomitashvili says.

After studying architecture at the State Academy of Arts in Tbilisi, he expanded his practice into art, before being accepted on to the master’s programme in contextual design at Design Academy Eindhoven in 2019. ‘Everything I do begins with asking why, before working out what and how,’ he says. ‘I work closely with different workshops in and around Tbilisi, understanding the material skills and potential of wood, iron and textiles, for instance, and bringing them together. It’s a literal way of using the fabric of the city to respond to a need. It matters to me that I build genuine relationships with these craftspeople and fabricators because this is a process of experiment and exchange, not a transactional service. I always bring them on the journey of what we are designing and making, and when they see the finished results and are proud and happy, it is the greatest compliment.’ @gypsandconcrete

Max Machaidze, artist

Max Machaidze is Tbilisi’s urban renaissance prince. He comes from a well-known family of artists, and his own expression finds form in rap, jewellery, interior and furniture design, as well as fashion and animation. The list goes on. He speaks in aphorisms with the lyrical fluidity of a philosopher or poet: ‘When I drink coffee, I’m a coffee drinker. When I’m singing, I’m a singer. One thing I don’t like is labels.’

Machaidze’s relationship with Tbilisi is symbiotic, combining angst and joy in equal measure: ‘Someone said that the dictionary is like a graveyard of words; until they are spoken, they are skeletons,’ he says. ‘The world comes to life when you interact with it and Tbilisi is the same – it’s like the corpse of an organism, it’s up to us and our actions to breathe life into it.

‘I see everything as an open possibility. When you’re a kid, the world is a possible place; education is like a poison that you need to take to survive, and life after school is all about learning to be free again.’

Machaidze’s worldly effervescence is tempered somewhat by life’s harsher realities. ‘I went to my first demo aged 14,’ he says. ‘It shaped who I am. We have to work hard to breed hope, not sadness. Geopolitically, the world is fucked, not just Georgia. Culture is like a seed – when it goes underground, it blooms again.’ @llttffrr

Meriko Gubeladze, chef-restaurateur

In a culture famed for its food and hospitality, chef-restaurateur Meriko Gubeladze is a modest pioneer. She has three restaurants in Tbilisi that are adored by locals and tourists alike. ‘I’ve been very lucky,’ she says. ‘All the women in my family are great cooks, and we grew up around food as a core part of coming together and reinforcing relationships. In Soviet times, there was no culture of going to restaurants – we ate at each other’s houses. My hope is that my restaurants have that feeling of home where people feel relaxed, welcome and special still.’

Making restaurants feel like home is not easy, but Gubeladze and her teams make it appear effortless. The food helps, of course – true to its reputation, Georgian food has to be tasted to be believed for the sheer breadth and quality of its ingredients. ‘We are a tiny country,’ says Gubeladze. ‘We have 14 different regions with a lot of geographical and climatic variation, so it’s a country of extraordinary contrast and diversity. Eating is understanding not just the ingredients but the culture and values of a country. Food is a powerful repository of cultural identity. Restaurants are every bit as important for culture as museums and galleries. They are safe places that encourage active participation. In return, they offer comfort, revelation or escapism, depending on what it is you’re after.’ @__meriko_

Nana Zaalishvili, architect

Nana Zaalishvili founded her architecture studio IDAAF in 2016, but prior to this played bass in a punk band and edited an architecture magazine. ‘Like so many of our generation here, my work is research-based,’ she says. ‘The outcome of what I do is almost irrelevant. For me, it’s always about exploring, learning and responding. Architecture allows the greatest opportunity to go beyond a project, with legitimacy to explore archaeology, vernacular materials and forms.’

Zaalishvili travelled extensively throughout Georgia documenting Soviet bus stops, a project that spawned a book (published in 2018) that became an international bestseller. ‘Travelling opened my eyes to everything we have in this country that we weren’t taught about at school,’ she says. ‘Today it’s my mission to give shape to that knowledge for myself and others.’ Zaalishvili also teaches materials on the product design course at the School of Visual Art, Architecture and Design (VAADS).

‘I am small but I feel powerful,’ says Zaalishvili. ‘My work has power and I have a big presence. I don’t feel threatened on a building site – I grew up with lots of male cousins. Georgia has always been a matriarchal country. We are a country of strong women; women don’t like to be victims. We are also a family of strong characters – my great-grandmother built her own house by hand from stone. We don’t wait for men to do things. I want to work in Georgia because I belong here and everything I do starts and ends here.’ idaafarchitects.com

Sofio Gongliashvili, designer

Sofio Gongliashvili shares her Tbilisi home with her giant Rhodesian Ridgeback, Zimba, and her teenage twin daughters. Inside, it’s a little like stepping into a fantasy world – a fitting environment for the designer who has built a cult following with her exuberant oversized enamel jewellery.

‘I began making jewellery in the 1990s just before Soviet rule ended,’ she says. ‘There was no gas or light – it was a period of huge uncertainty, but I was very keen to learn a craft by way of finding a form of self-expression. Enamelware decorated with the cloisonné technique was traditionally used in religious settings and I enjoyed the bold, colourful possibilities of playing with iconography and symbolism, giving form to my own imagination.’

In 2014, Gongliashvili was invited to show her jewellery at London Fashion Week, and Sarah Mower (then head of the British Fashion Council) awarded her a prize, noting the extraordinary cultural specificity of her work. Today, Gongliashvili has a global audience and oversees a busy workshop with a team of five craftspeople.

‘My creativity comes from the strong feelings I have in response to the world around us,’ she explains. ‘For most of my career, we have not been in a peaceful state in Georgia. I do my best to convert the negative energy into optimism or fantasy through my work. I try to see everything as a fairy tale because I believe that all fairy tales have happy endings, and I hope the same will be true for Georgia.’ @sophogongliashvili

Sofia Tchkonia, cultural entrepreneur

Sofia Tchkonia has a matriarchal sense of drive and duty to support Georgia’s future generations of creative talent. In 2015, she launched Tbilisi Fashion Week with the intention of platforming the nation’s fashion talent, but also bringing the global industry to the city. Around 80 buyers and journalists attended from America, Europe and Asia, and the event earned a reputation on the international circuit as a destination of intrigue and note. After a two-year hiatus, it will return in spring 2026.

‘Our fashion week is about much more than fashion design,’ she says. ‘I see it as a vital incubator for models, journalists and buyers, as well as designers. For young people, it’s an opportunity for self-expression. Fashion needs an ecosystem to flourish.’

Tchkonia cuts a powerful presence in the vast halls of the former industrial buildings where the fashion week is held. She has bigger plans for them. ‘We have so many talented, creative young Georgians and a government that does nothing to support them,’ she says.

‘It’s understandable that they leave Georgia. We are turning these buildings into a school for around 450 students, for workshops and workspaces, a concert hall and a library to support the next generation of talent. The goal is to bring international talents here to teach so we establish real connections between Tbilisi and the rest of the world. When government support vanishes, it’s up to us to create an alternative model that keeps our culture alive.’ sofiatchkonia.com, factorytbilisi.com

Uta Bekaia, artist

After studying industrial design at the Tbilisi Academy, Uta Bekaia moved to New York to pursue life as an artist, while designing costumes and sets for theatre. He returned to Tbilisi eight years ago with a principled purpose: ‘The tug of my roots in Georgia was strong and, as a queer person, I felt I could be someone visible that younger people could look up to at a time when we are an enemy of the state.’ An internationally renowned artist with an American passport, Bekaia feels a responsibility to speak out and represent queer youth. He is a founding member of Fungus, a platform for queer creatives across the Caucasus.

His artistic practice combines craft and costume with storytelling and performance. ‘I am interested in resurrecting aspects of the pre-Christian, pagan culture of our country – finding fairy tales, myths and customs – and re-envisioning them through my personal lens into something ritualistic that speaks to our present reality,’ he says.

‘I find it empowering to work with my hands and my visual language is heavily inspired by folk culture. There’s an inherent queerness or otherness in so much folk, but it also has its roots in specific people and place.’

Bekaia notes this being particularly important at a time when LGBTQ rights have been dissolved by the government as a malign Western influence: ‘My queer art has its origins in Georgian traditions – there is nothing Western-influenced about it. The queer community is accused of being unnatural, but what could be more natural than folk culture?’ utabekaia.com

This article appears in the October 2025 Issue of Wallpaper*, available in print on newsstands, on the Wallpaper* app on Apple iOS, and to subscribers of Apple News +. Subscribe to Wallpaper* today

In the October 2025 issue of Wallpaper*, we give the magazine over to a selection of long-form stories that we feel warrant the unique perspective afforded by print. Given the clamour to create in a multiplatform environment, we believe offering time and space to a series of in-depth articles further enriches our engagement with the world. And by honouring the true value of a medium that privileges rich visual executions, expansive reporting, and the careful juxtaposing of topics and projects, we hope this goes some way to revealing something pertinent and insightful about broader shifts in culture and life, too.

Across the October issue’s 300 pages, we bring you the methods and motivations of a plethora of world-class creatives, including Bas Smets, the landscape architect renewing our relationship with the natural world; the visionary fashion designer Craig Green, whose London atelier we visited, the better to unpack his extraordinary talent; and Irma Boom, reinforcing the primacy of print one extraordinary volume at a time.

We visit Tbilisi, where a robust entrepreneurial spirit is resisting an encroaching authoritarian state, and head to Lagos, where the informal architecture of Nigeria’s street markets is inspiring a young generation of designers to adapt their home-grown structures.

We broaden our focus on the meaning of home at the Unité d’Habitation in Marseille, where inhabitants of Le Corbusier’s landmark housing project reflect on its continuing legacy, and consider the evolving role of our innermost realm, domesticity, through the eyes of contemporary artists contemplating this symbol of selfhood.

For our interiors story, we highlight the objects that define the remarkable shelf life of great design, and we offer our thoughts on technology and travel – two aspects of an ever-changing world that are bearing the brunt of our thirst for constant renewal.

Pulling this issue together has been the work of many, but I’d particularly like to thank Clara Perrotte, Anne-France Berthelon, Ora-ïto and Raphaëlle Caldaguès for their help in producing our story on the Unité d’Habitation; Kalpesh Lathigra, who brilliantly translated the backstage world of Craig Green’s Paris show; photographer Devashish Gaur, who traversed multiple time zones (remotely) to capture the ten portraits for our Landscape Architects’ Directory; and London Art Makers for their help in creating our monumental interiors story.

Bill Prince
Editor-in-Chief

The October 2025 issue of Wallpaper* is available in print on newsstands from 4 September 2025, on the Wallpaper* app on Apple iOS, and to subscribers of Apple News +. Subscribe to Wallpaper* today

Seen on the newsstand cover (top left): ‘Bibendum’ chair prototype made using EcoLattice for Aram’s ‘Beyond Foam’ exhibition in September 2025, price on request, by Eileen Gray, from Aram. ‘Bibendum’ chair in black leather, 1926, from £4,915, by Eileen Gray, from Aram. ‘Helia’ fabric in 0733, 2020, price on request, by Raf Simons, for Kvadrat. Paint in Baked Cherry, £70 for 2.5 litres, by Little Greene. ‘Leaf II’ recycled wool in Jet Black, 2021, £86 per m, by Kirkby Design

Since the launch of Rooms Kazbegi, its hotel among the looming Caucasus Mountain Range, Georgian hospitality group Adjara has quietly been turning heads with the opening of a series of cool projects that have become known for their design, architecture and commitment to local culture. Following the opening of Fabrika – a dynamic hostel housed in a former sewing factory – its latest venture Stamba hotel, also in Tbilisi, has touched down in the emerging Vera neighbourhood, just a short stroll from Rustaveli Avenue, the city’s main artery that is lined with landmarks such as the Moorish-style State Opera House.

Pitching up within the brutalist skeleton of a former 1930s publishing house – also once the site of the city’s first cognac distillery – the hotel sits quietly within its original surroundings, blending its concrete superstructure with contemporary details from handmade ceramic tiles by London-based studio Pataki to local artwork like the whimsical wallpaper by Georgian designer Maya Sumbadze. The striking atrium lobby meanwhile extends the full-height of the building, after five floors were removed, leaving only the structural pillars for support. This dramatic architectural feat is best admired from the surrounding internal balconies or from inside the glass-bottomed rooftop pool.

Stamba hotel’s guestrooms follow a similar industrial-luxe aesthetic, with exposed brickwork, lofty ceilings and oversized windows, which are exact replicas of those that were once featured on the façade of the publishing house. This is softened with plush touches like squishy deep-pile carpets, butter-soft leather bedheads, comfortable armchairs upholstered in natural wool, freestanding copper bathtubs, and a soaring bookshelf along one wall.

The hotel’s curb-side restaurant, which spills out onto a buzzing inner courtyard terrace, has fast become a local hotspot that hums from the first serving of cheesy khachapuri in the morning to last orders at night. Expect modern comfort food from whole roasted chicken straight from the rotisseri to traditional Georgian dishes like chakapuli (lamb stew cooked with tarragon and wild plums) served within an industrial chic setting layered with vintage mosaic tiles, salvaged mint-green leather booths and sparkly art deco chandeliers.

If this is not enough to keep you in, try the restaurant at Rooms, Stamba’s adjoining sister property, where juicy steaks are served alongside a menu of killer cocktails. Or, for even more variety, head over the road to Lolita to nibble on crowd-pleasing offerings from burgers to hotdogs, while rubbing shoulders with the city’s creative elite.

INFORMATION

Website

ADDRESS

14, 0108 Merab Kostava St

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If you ever needed a clear signal of Tbilisi’s arrival on the contemporary tourist map, it would be the debut of the Adjara Group Hospitality’s Fabrika.

Part of the larger global movement towards a new accommodation model of hostel slash hotel slash AirBnB – a flag flown proudly by the likes of the Ace, Generator, Zoku and Room Mates – the 98-room property is located in an old Soviet-era sewing factory. Here, Multiverse Architecture has left the industrial concrete shell more or less intact, while carving out of the vast interior space into a series of, admittedly austere, rooms that are based on demographics and funds: dorm rooms featuring shared bunks and bathrooms, private rooms with en-suites, and apartments with kitchenettes and terraces.

Outside of the rooms, the vibe is firmly democratic with the lobby serving as a sociable watering hotel and den, anchored by a common kitchen that’s based on local produce, and a courtyard speckled with cafés and bars serving up burgers and Georgian treats. Meanwhile, the rooftop terrace provides more socialising opportunities. 

The neighbourhood is a particular draw, the cobbled streets, so reminiscent of the old world, giving way to fabulous period architecture – a mix of traditional Georgian silhouettes alongside art nouveau and neo-classical piles.

ADDRESS

8 Egnate Ninoshvili Street

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Basking in the success of his magnificent Caucasus mountainside retreat, for entrepreneur Temur Ugulava, launching the second of his Rooms Hotel series, was a no-brainer. This time located within the urban realms of Tbilisi, the new property occupies an industrial Soviet-era publishing house- a nostalgic remnant of Vera, the intellectual neighbourhood it inhabits. Reshaped by hip, local architecture firm Adjara Arch group, the façade has been clad in reclaimed wood, giving the post-industrial window frames – signature to the city – an appropriate update, while a new glass-walled atrium-like extension establishes a modern tract that allows light to flood into the interior. Set over eight floors, the 140-room property is a combination of Ugulava’s 1930s New York vision and old-world Tbilisi charm, featuring rich leathers, local artwork and vintage Georgian pieces. The Kitchen is a communal affair that serves a weekly-changing American menu, while the Bar Room –open till late – offers handcrafted cocktails from some of the city’s best mixologists.

ADDRESS

14 Merab Kostava Street
Tbilisi
Georgia

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