GRAPHĒ

With a Wall of Curved Glass, This "Boxy" Utrecht Home Finally Found Its Flow

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Fri, 16 Oct 2026 08:56:19 -0700

HOP Architects reimagined the ground floor with an Art Deco–inspired extension that connects the common areas to the garden.

When Linde Weeteling, a Dutch banking executive, decided to move out of Amsterdam, she had a clear picture of the kind of change she was looking for. Her apartment had become too cramped for her small family (Linde, her partner, and their young daughter), so space was a priority, as was moving closer to her parents in Utrecht, a city 22 miles southeast of Amsterdam, where she grew up.

"I knew I wanted a family home that was both practical and beautiful, but a bit different," she says, adding that she was undaunted by the prospect of purchasing and renovating an old house.

Before: The "boxy" old house had a lower level composed of lots of small spaces.

Photo by Michael Cerrone, HOP Architects

The one she ended up buying is set in a leafy residential neighborhood, close to a huge park but also just five minutes by bike from central Utrecht and six minutes from her parents’ place. Built around 1900 (although the records of the exact date are unclear), the house appealed to Linde because of its high ceilings and two additions: a long, narrow shed on one side and a makeshift extension on the other. While some might have put off by the old, boxy building, Linde saw the opportunity to open it up—so she reached out to Michael Cerrone of Amsterdam’s HOP Architects.

When Cerrone of first saw the three-story, 1,475-square-foot space, he was confident that it could be "really nice." However, he never imagined how collaborative and fruitful the design process would be. "Sometimes, the relationship you have with your client develops in a way that you inspire one another and stimulate each other’s creativity," he says.

When Michael Cerrone of HOP Architects first proposed the curvaceous extension, he didn’t expect his client to go for it.

Photo by Michael Cerrone, HOP Architects

While he hadn’t initially expected Linde to be on board with the curvy, Art Deco extension he proposed, he was delighted when she approved the plans.

"When we’d suggested things like this to previous clients, they’d seen the cost and decided they didn’t want it. But Linde told us she’d shown it to her friends and family, and everyone loved it so much that she had to do it," he recalls.

A long line of cabinetry runs from the living area into the kitchen. The Neva bar chairs are by Artisan.

Photo by Michael Cerrone, HOP Architects

See the full story on Dwell.com: With a Wall of Curved Glass, This "Boxy" Utrecht Home Finally Found Its Flow
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You Can Buy an Entire Venetian Island With a Napoleonic Fort for €5.5M

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Fri, 16 Oct 2026 08:56:18 -0700

Dating back to 1806, the property comes with a converted villa, two moorings, and waterfront views of the floating city.

Location: Venice, Italy

Price: €5,500,000 (approximately $6,179,607 USD)

Year Built: 1806

Footprint: 2,314 square feet

Lot Size: 1.4 acres

From the Listing: "In the picturesque Venice lagoon, a unique and rare buying opportunity presents itself: the entire island of Crevan. This private oasis boasts a restored Napoleonic fortress, idyllic gardens, and two boat moorings. The restoration, carried out by the owners, has preserved the original layout, offering a total of four rooms and three bathrooms. In addition, the original conformation of the island has been preserved through the reconstruction of embankments and perimeter buttresses, with the elevation of the ground through the use of topsoil. The island is located in the most fascinating position in the Venetian lagoon, at the southeastern end of the Burano swamp and at the confluence of the Crevan canal, offering a spectacular view of Venice, Murano, and Burano that makes this property an unparalleled treasure."

The island was built in 1806 under French rule to reinforce the shoreline of the Venetian lagoon.

Photo courtesy of Lionard Luxury Real Estate

The property includes two boat moorings and a helipad.

Photo courtesy of Lionard Luxury Real Estate

See the full story on Dwell.com: You Can Buy an Entire Venetian Island With a Napoleonic Fort for €5.5M
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Yes, "Cleanfluencers" Really Do Like Scrubbing That Much

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Fri, 16 Oct 2026 06:56:40 -0700

In a corner of social media known as #CleanTok, some people’s "declutter with me" vlogs and ASMR household wash downs have turned them into full-time content creators.

Welcome to #TradesTok, an interview series where design-related content creators share what goes into building their online and IRL businesses.

For Rochelle Stewart, known online as @operation_niki, a typical Costco outing ends with removing everything from her refrigerator, wiping clean every glass shelf, and sometimes steaming and vacuuming corners and drawers before restocking its contents. Nothing goes into the refrigerator without itself being cleaned: all produce is washed and placed in clear containers, juices are decanted and labeled, deli meats and cheeses are unpackaged and placed in trays. The resulting fridge looks less like where one keeps food and more like a gourmet grocer display. Naturally, she films each step and edits the process down into one-minute-and-30-seconds-long "Costco haul" clips that get between 10 and 50 million views on TikTok.

Stewart is a creator on #CleanTok, a corner of social media that fuses vicarious ASMR tidying with janitorial education, with extreme and satisfying makeovers tossed between. A former IT analyst in Nashville, Stewart started posting on TikTok in 2021 while working remotely with her virtually schooling kids. "It was a hobby initially, something to maybe connect with other people that were interested in the same things," she says. In less than a year, Stewart left her job to create cleaning and organizing videos (as well as cooking and self-care content) full-time. She now has upward of 16 million followers across TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube and has partnered with brands like Ninja, Shark, Swiffer, and Tide.

CleanTok has become a 2020s social media staple representing modern domestic bliss, and, just as there are countless spaces to clean in a house, each with their own suite of approaches and tools for tackling, the genre’s content creators and their videos are equally varied. Some focus on visually appealing ASMR clips; close-ups of sudsy scrubdowns or surface steam cleans (with bios like "Your ASMArtha Stewart"). Others post organizational inspiration or vlog-style "restocks" and "resets." There are also professional house cleaners who film their processes for social media and at least one cleanfluencer who takes on dramatic before-and-after overhauls of hoarding environments. Almost all of them dip in and out of marketing the cleaning products they use on their feeds via sponsored posts or ShopMy links.

Carly Castro, aka @cleanwithcarly, describes herself as "the Wendy Williams of cleaning." Castro’s parents were cleaners and, while she had her own cleaning business for a period, she transitioned into full-time content creating in late 2025 following the success of her blunt approach to CleanTok. Her videos range from reacting to viral cleaning hacks, sharing gossip while tidying spaces, and skits about the reality of being a cleaner, which she films in her Denver home. "The main comment I get is, ‘Finally, a cleaner that’s honest,’" says Castro, who has over 600,000 followers across social media and is a spokesperson for the cleaning products brand OdoBan. Brandon Pleshek, the Wisconsin creator behind @cleanthatup, also comes from a family of janitors. He started making videos in 2020 while working full-time for his family’s cleaning business. "I hit a wave on TikTok where there were not only a ton of people watching because of the pandemic but so many people were conscious about keeping things clean," he says. "I still don’t believe that it turned into seven million followers across platforms."

As with any social media genre, a common critique of CleanTok content is that it’s performative, more aesthetically minded than functional, and that it pushes a particularly consumerist vision of clean and tidiness. "A lot of CleanTok is not real," Castro says. "People do the aesthetic of a new home—but that’s not real life for a lot of us. The other half is rage bait, where you know it’s a manufactured mess."

We talked to five CleanTok creators about how they started cleanfluencing and the nitty-gritty that goes into making their videos. Our conversations have been edited and condensed for clarity.

Rochelle Stewart

@operation_niki, 7.6M followers on TikTok and 5.5M followers on Instagram

On starting her TikTok

I’ve always loved cleaning and organizing. I think it started off as a coping mechanism, because I was bullied as a child. I loved to go into my room, reorganize it, redecorate it, take everything out, and put it back in. It was my pastime, and it was very therapeutic for me.

I’ve been working as a content creator since late 2022. Before, I worked from home, so I was doing it at the same time. It was hard: I had a two-year-old at home and two bigger kids who were virtually learning. I wanted to do something for myself. I was going to make this content regardless, but what I think helped it skyrocket is the time I decided to do it. People needed a pastime, that was the first thing. The second thing was people were very, very, very conscious of cleanliness because of what was happening in the world. It was a perfect storm for me to become successful.

On what goes into making her CleanTok videos

It takes hours. I can film around three hours of content for a normal video. That’s just: Record, stop. Record, stop. There’s a bunch of different angles that I like to film, and once I’m done, it takes a few hours to edit. I would say it takes about 12 hours total. I do everything myself—but I’m looking for an editor currently because I’m burnt out.

On planning her content

I’m just doing me on camera. It’s not like I have to think that hard about, what’s the next video gonna be? I’m just gonna do what I would do anyway. I need to clean my bathroom—let me clean my bathroom. I don’t want to be too repetitive; I try to switch things up, but other than that, it comes to me pretty easily.

On the associated costs

Is there a ton of overhead? No. That’s the beautiful thing about this type of content: You can make do with what you have. If you want to do the extra stuff, you can absolutely do that. Now, thankfully, brands know me and I get stuff for free.

On her most viral post

For some reason, people really love my cleaning and restocking videos. I think my most viral video might have been like 60 million views, or somewhere around there.

Favorite cleanfluencer: Cat Benson. I’ve always loved her content.
Other go-to TikTok content: I’m more of an audio book girl—anything that I can multitask with.

Carly Castro

@cleanwcarly, 251.2K followers on TikTok and 69.7K followers on Instagram

On starting her TikTok

I started with political content, for two months. I got sick of the false information going around. I would get clips from politicians saying something, then denying they said that specific thing. It was a catch-a-lie type of thing. It skyrocketed! The engagement was insane.

I was starting a cleaning business, so outside of political content, I was on CleanTok, trying to get information. There was no one really saying, "This is how I did it. This was a waste of money. Do that instead!" I was like, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna show the ugly, the good, and hopefully help somebody along the way. After switching my niche, within two months I gained 30,000 followers. It was crazy.

On her CleanTok video process

I’ll pick something that needs to be cleaned, and usually it’s about 35, 45 minutes. The longest process is my script: I’ve been doing this for three years, so I feel like I’ve said everything. I never want to be repetitive. Sometimes it’ll take three hours sitting in front of my iPad. That’s the hardest part. I edit on the TikTok app for free, and it doesn’t take more than 30 minutes. I have a $20 tripod. The filming is the easiest because cleaning comes like second nature to me.

On connecting cleaning content with politics

People are very loud about their opinions. Why can’t I be loud about mine? A lot of people don’t relate to immigration if you don’t know anybody that is an immigrant. For me, those are my parents. They worked two jobs, they were cleaners their whole lives, they couldn’t afford a babysitter, so they would pick me up from school and I would go to their second job and watch them clean. Sometimes I wouldn’t go to bed until 11 p.m.! Then they woke up at 5 a.m., made me breakfast, and did it again. I want people to understand that it is very dangerous for immigrants to work this job. It’s really important to put a face to those issues. I did a video on this when it happened, but a house cleaner was given the wrong address and a man shot her. People are like, "This is heartbreaking! A mother!" and then it came out that she was a Guatemalan immigrant. Then, people are like, "Well, she should have known where she was going." I will lose followers, I will lose brand deals. I don’t care. There are so many things much more important than cutesy little TikTok videos and aesthetics.

On her top-performing videos

The ones that do the best are the ones where I’m honest. Sometimes I walk into a client’s house and there’s little marks on the toilet. We all poop. You’re not disgusting and lazy because there are marks on the toilet! You have figurines that are dusty? You haven’t done your baseboards in two years? That’s okay. Some house cleaners shame people.

On what she hopes people get from her content

When it comes to your average viewer, I hope they realize it’s okay to say cleaning sucks and it’s boring. They’re not lazy because they don’t find scrubbing their baseboards fun. A lot of us who do this professionally? We agree. It’s normal. It’s okay to be honest about that but, along the way, let me teach you how to do it properly.

Go-to cleaning tip: For streaks on glass or stainless steel, the most important thing is a glass polishing towel. That is going to change your life.

Brandon Pleshek

@cleanthatup, 1.9M followers on TikTok and 1.5M followers on Instagram

On his relationship to cleaning

I grew up in the business. From a very young age, I liked being at my grandparents’ house, where [our family company] was run. There’s pictures of me answering phones at five years old, then at 10 I was sweeping the shop. Before I knew it, I was starting to work on job sites and cleaning. Cleaning has always been a part of my life. There was a time in my teens where I didn’t want to do it, but I came around to it and took over the family business as the third-generation janitor.

On becoming a CleanTok creator

In 2016, I had the idea. I was watching a ton of YouTube and saw the evolution of people making videos on interesting things. If I had something to fix around my house, I would go to YouTube, and I noticed there’s a bunch of cleaning stuff there. I started the Clean That Up Instagram and I always had the idea that I could teach people how to clean, but I took over the family business and life just got crazy. Fast-forward to 2020, Covid hit and no one wanted us going into their homes. I had a ton of time on my hands, stressed out like everyone. I was consuming a ton of TikTok, and I was like, I should post some of these cleaning videos I have on my phone. I posted one of me vacuuming a rug. It was very satisfying; there was a bunch of junk on it. I think it got 30,000 views. I was like, there’s no way. I started getting comments and messages from people, like "Hey, do you know how to clean a toilet?" "You know how to get this off of this surface?" I was doing a lot of cleaning alone, so I had a little extra time to set up a camera and start recording—and TikTok blew up.

On how his content has evolved

In the early days, it was me and an iPhone and a tripod. Not even a tripod at first! Just me, doing it all by myself, then coming home after a day of cleaning and editing videos. I was using InShot, some app I downloaded. At that point I had edited 10 videos in my life because I used to make skater videos when I was a teenager. I was figuring it out on the fly. It got to a point where I couldn’t do it by myself. The one hard thing about making cleaning content is I can talk to the camera and explain my process, but then I still have to actually clean the thing and show it. A normal job that would take me two hours was starting to take me four because I was trying to get all the right shots. I realized quickly that if I have someone with me who can help me clean but also knows how to hold a camera, that would be helpful.

I brought on my cousin; he got it right away as he’s even younger than me and was on TikTok. He moved on to another job, and at that point I had to hire someone to shoot videos. I didn’t want them to know anything about cleaning. I landed on the gentleman who still works with me. His name is Noah and he helps me film everything, he produces a ton of videos, helps write scripts, and he just gets it. Before him, there was a bottleneck of content. I couldn’t get to it—posting across platforms takes hours sometimes. I hired a good friend of mine as my full-time YouTube editor.

On his ideal cleaning videos

I love taking something that is someone else’s trash, that they think is garbage and don’t want to spend time cleaning, and I can clean that and make it useful again. You add the sounds in and the scrubbing and all that stuff—this sounds cliché but it’s just satisfying. Some of my early videos that really popped off were me taking stuff that I found at thrift stores, or a rug I found on the side of the street. Watching that transformation is great.

On whether his social media success has boosted business

It’s definitely helped our local business, but we don’t advertise at all on it. Three years ago, we split off a portion of the business, like the floor care and the commercial stuff. A good friend bought a portion of it. He was pretty much like, "You have lightning in the bottle with this creator thing. You should do that. Let me run the business, and we’ll figure it out." There’s another portion my dad and I still run: I need the cleaning business for the videos because they help feed content. It’s pretty much 90 percent Clean That Up and 10 percent in the day-to-day cleaning business locally.

Most-requested cleaning videos: Glass shower doors—I could make a video every month. They’re hard to clean!
Favorite space to clean: There’s nothing like a clean bathroom.

Christy B

@christyytiktok, 176.2K followers on TikTok and 134K subscribers on YouTube

On getting started on CleanTok

I have always enjoyed watching cleaning content. I was a teacher before this, but I started my TikTok in 2025. I had just moved to a new country and was between jobs so I had some time on my hands. I started making short videos of cleaning resets and ASMR cleaning content. Some of the videos did well so I thought, "I should make longer content on YouTube!" After a few months I had maybe 20,000 or 30,000 followers on TikTok. Then I was uploading consistently and it jumped to 50,000 or 60,000 and it just grew from there. I remember I had a couple of viral videos and I would get hundreds of follows every couple of minutes. One video had 21 million views and I think I gained around 30,000 followers from that in a few days. Once I started taking it seriously and posting nearly every day the numbers grew.

YouTube has always been my favorite platform. I uploaded my first long-form video I think 10 months ago and I have been making new ones every Friday since. My first two or three did really well, which surprised me! I think one has over 1.5 million views now. I started creating content as a hobby and it has turned into my full-time career.

On how her cleaning process has changed

Anything I clean for content I would clean anyways. My process takes a lot longer now because I’m trying to get a certain angle. Since I’ve had my own apartment I just love keeping it clean. I’m the type of person who can’t fully relax until my space is tidy. That doesn’t mean that I don’t make a mess, because I definitely do. Any time I make dinner it is a complete mess, but I like to tidy up afterward.

My video-making process has changed in that I know what I want to film and where I want to set up my camera. That has definitely become easier. It is a lot of trial and error. I used to have a lot of my cleaning supplies in my last apartment but a lot of them were gifted. Now that I’m in a new space I’m keeping my collection small. You really don’t need a lot of cleaning supplies. My top list would be disinfectant spray, dish soap, bleach, window/mirror cleaner, surface space, vinegar, baking soda, and floor cleaner.

On not showing her face in videos

It wasn’t really a conscious decision. When I started creating content I didn’t tell anyone, not even my boyfriend and we live together, so I just filmed without my face. It’s just kind of transitioned into the way I film now. I get a lot of comments on YouTube saying that they enjoy the ASMR aspect and that I don’t waste time talking when they are watching to see cleaning. I don’t think about it too much. I want my content to focus on cleaning, organization, styling, and tips for maintaining a clean space, not really about me!

On the appeal of ASMR cleaning

Watching something go from completely messy and dirty to clean and tidy scratches an itch in people’s brains. Mine included. ASMR is scientifically proven (I think?) to relax you, so the mixture of the two makes looking away from one of those videos very difficult. They suck you in! I am definitely my own target audience.

Most frequent blooper: Turning the shower on myself while filming. I’ve done that too many times!
Least-favorite CleanTok content: People pulling hair out of drains or dirty toilets!

Jess

@jesskeepcleaning, 79.9K followers on TikTok and 55.8K followers on Instagram

On starting her TikTok

It all started in August 2023, when I was home bored and looking for something new to do after spending time watching cleaning motivation videos on YouTube. I mentioned the idea of creating cleaning content to my husband, and he encouraged me to go for it. I didn’t even have TikTok at the time, but I downloaded the app and posted my first cleaning video that same day. My following started growing much faster after my first viral video that December. That video got over a million views.

On planning her content

Most of my video ideas come from interacting with the CleanTok community, but sometimes an idea will randomly come to me. I’m a stay-at-home mom who simply enjoys cleaning; my content comes from sharing something I genuinely love doing and turning my everyday into satisfying videos.

On staying anonymous and leaning into ASMR

I chose not to show my face or use voiceovers because privacy is important to me and being on camera can sometimes make me feel anxious. My content has never really been about me: it’s about cleaning, satisfying ASMR, and the transformations. I developed my style by staying true to what I enjoyed watching. I’ve started focusing more on the natural sounds of cleaning instead of adding music. I try to focus on the sounds that make the experience feel calming and relaxing.

On the current culture of cleanliness

A clean space can feel calming, refreshing, and satisfying. With social media, we also get to see those satisfying before-and-after transformations which can make cleaning feel fun and motivating. I don’t think we’re necessarily too obsessed with cleanliness. It really depends on what makes each person feel comfortable in their own space.

Most viral video: Cleaning mold. I think the dramatic before and after caught people’s attention because it was so satisfying to see the difference.
Most overlooked spot to clean: Window seals and sliding door tracks! They collect so much hidden dirt and grime.

Top images courtesy of subjects

Tidycore Makes a Real Mess

The Owners of This Vintage Furniture Shop Want You to Take a Chance on a Worse for Wear Armchair

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Fri, 16 Oct 2026 06:56:37 -0700

John Perez and Raquel Bahena, the owners of Chicago’s Normalish Studio, share how they approach every piece like it can be repaired.

Welcome to Good Vintage, a series that goes behind the scenes with furniture resellers and dealers to find out how they got their start, where they get their stuff, and what inspires them to keep it up. Know of someone we should talk to? Reach out.

You’d never guess when browsing the offerings at Normalish Studio, a laidback Chicago-based vintage furniture store, that the co-owners once serviced the billionaire class. John Perez and Raquel Bahena—partners in business "and in love," as Perez says—were previously in the automotive and aviation design industry, building out ultramodern private plane interiors for the country’s wealthiest using new materials that are mostly devoid of warmth or personality: fiberglass, black leather, aluminum, and paint. In early 2025, after a slew of bureaucratic headaches, Perez and Bahena were over it. "We decided to put the tools and skills we had in a different direction," says Perez.

That pivot was to vintage furniture. They took all of their luxury interior design, upholstery, wood, paint, and metal knowledge and applied it to used midcentury furniture instead. "We scoured Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace for anything furniture-related we could shine and resell," says Perez. The couple launched Atomic Land Vintage last spring (with the intent of focusing solely on Atomic Age pieces) and opened a makeshift storefront in the warehouse they were leasing at the time. In addition to fixing up their own furniture finds, Perez and Bahena—along with the small team of employees they worked with at the time—picked up restoration, wholesale, and custom fabrication and modification work for other designers and furniture dealers in the city.

See the full story on Dwell.com: The Owners of This Vintage Furniture Shop Want You to Take a Chance on a Worse for Wear Armchair
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Seeking $775K, Ron Fridlind’s Tucson Compound Is a World of Its Own

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Thu, 15 Oct 2026 08:56:38 -0700

Over four decades, the architect and tinkerer transformed a modest desert home into a tapestry of Japanese minimalism, landscaped courtyards, and sculptural oddities.

Location: 3429 East Glenn Street, Tucson, Arizona

Price: $775,000

Year Built: 1945

Architect: Ron Fridlind

Renovation Date: Addition and renovations completed 2012

Renovation Designer: Ron Fridlind

Footprint: 2,516-square-foot main house (2 beds, 2.5 baths); 768-square-foot studio

Lot Size: 0.86 acres

From the Agent: "Once the personal residence of award-winning architect and builder Ron Fridlind, this private central Tucson compound was transformed and expanded over several decades. The work reflects a personal architectural language shaped by Japanese design, desert living, and a respect for craft.

Set well back from the street on a secluded 0.86-acre parcel, the 2,516-square-foot main residence is surrounded by mature desert landscape, courtyards, and raised garden beds. Large panes of glass bring views of the gardens into the home, allowing shifting light and the surrounding landscape to shape the interiors throughout the day.

Natural materials and carefully considered details appear throughout the two-bedroom, two-bath home. Straight-grain Douglas fir wraps walls, ceilings, and floors, while stone, rustic saguaro-rib ceilings, and sculptural steel elements give each room its own character. Three custom metal fireplaces throughout the house are both functional objects and works of art.

The approach to the house begins at a recessed entry tucked beneath a steel trellis and surrounded by native plantings. From the foyer, views extend into the garden, with the primary suite to the right, the guest suite to the left, and the living, kitchen, and dining spaces directly ahead.

The guest suite looks west into the southern courtyard, while the spacious primary bedroom is wrapped in Douglas fir and glass, with views into the surrounding gardens. The bathing space includes a custom stainless-steel shower, wood sauna, and wood-fired soaking tub. Two large sliding glass panels allow the space to open completely to the outdoors.

A separate 768-square-foot studio provides a generous, climate-controlled space for creative or professional work, complete with a mini-split system and half bath. An additional 280-square-foot detached building offers further studio, workshop, or storage possibilities. Four covered parking spaces and an electronic entry gate complete the property.

The parcel has been surveyed and can be divided, creating the potential to develop or sell the rear portion of the property with separate access from Monte Vista.

This property is a wonderful example of an expressive architectural composition. Tactile and connected to its desert setting, it offers privacy, space, and creative possibility in the heart of Tucson."

Architect and builder Ron Fridlind spent more than four decades transforming a modest Tucson house into his personal residence, adding courtyards, gardens, and spaces for creative work.

Photo: Logan Havens

A recessed entry beneath a steel trellis leads into the house, where the living, dining, and kitchen areas are arranged straight ahead, with the two bedroom suites on opposite sides.

Photo: Logan Havens

See the full story on Dwell.com: Seeking $775K, Ron Fridlind’s Tucson Compound Is a World of Its Own
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This New Zealand Tiny Cabin’s Glass Sliders Are So Big They Hang Off the Side

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Thu, 15 Oct 2026 08:56:37 -0700

A frame extending past the envelope lets them move completely out of the way of the view.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Moke Lake, Queenstown, New Zealand

Architect: Fearon Hay / @fearonhay

Structural Engineer: Sullivan Hall

Civil Engineer: Construction Survey

Landscape Design: Andy Hamilton

Interior Design: Katie Lo

Photographer: Sam Hartnett / @samuel_hartnett

From the Architect: "Moke Valley Cabin is conceived as a place of retreat, immersed within the landscape above Lake Wakatipu. Set amongst established trees on a steeply sloping site, the cabin is positioned to preserve the existing terrain and vegetation while establishing a strong connection to the lake and surrounding alpine landscape.

"The challenging topography informed an approach centered on lightness and minimal intervention. A slender steel structure anchors the cabin to the escarpment, allowing it to extend above the falling ground and appear almost weightless within the landscape. This elevated position reduces the building’s footprint on the site while opening expansive views across the lake.

"The architecture is defined by a concise material palette and a direct expression of structure. Dark-stained cedar allows the exterior to recede into the surrounding vegetation, while large areas of glazing bring the landscape into close proximity with the interior. Sliding panels extend the living space outward, shifting the experience of the cabin between enclosure and exposure as conditions change.

"Internally, the plan is compact and deliberate. Living and sleeping spaces are organized around a central service core, with each space responding to a particular orientation, quality of light, and view. Timber surfaces create warmth and continuity, complemented by a restrained palette of stone, metal, and tactile textiles.

"Existing trees are retained and new native planting reinforces the cabin’s relationship with its setting. Architecture and landscape are considered together, creating a small-scale retreat that sits quietly within the site grounded in its materiality and construction, yet light in its presence."

Photo by Sam Hartnett

See the full story on Dwell.com: This New Zealand Tiny Cabin’s Glass Sliders Are So Big They Hang Off the Side
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Eleven Types of Tile Lay the Groundwork for a Home Renovation in the Tuscan Countryside

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Wed, 14 Oct 2026 13:56:26 -0700

The architects brought in five geometric patterns, three solid colors, and three types of terrazzo.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Cascina, Italy

Architect: Atelier Vago / @atelier.vago

Footprint: 1,130 square feet

Photographer: Carlotta Di Sandro

From the Architect: "Casa Mako is the result of the renovation of a house in the Tuscan countryside near Pisa. The project grew out of the desire of its owner, a musician, for a home that would feel welcoming and convivial, yet exuberant, colorful and unconventional. A rich variety of finishes and close attention to detail therefore became central themes of the intervention.

"The project redefines the internal layout of the house. By removing the walls that once separated the kitchen, dining area, and living room, the project creates a single generous living space in which the different functions remain clearly identifiable without being physically separated. The bespoke kitchen was conceived to maintain a continuous relationship with the living area, allowing the client to remain connected with guests while cooking. Two lightweight painted-steel structures define its boundaries without enclosing it: an open framework of uprights and shelves that works simultaneously as shelving, a visual filter and a threshold between spaces.

"A second central theme is the design of the flooring. The original cement tiles and terrazzo could not be preserved due to the extent of the renovation works, but became the starting point for the new design. The cement tiles are reinterpreted through a single geometric pattern, repeated in different three-color combinations for each room. The underlying rule remains the same while the palette changes, creating distinct spaces that belong to a shared vision. In the bathrooms and corridor, the cement tiles give way to terrazzo.

"Color extends from the floors to the walls and furnishings, giving each space its own identity: green accompanies the kitchen, red envelops the corridor, and blue defines the bedroom. Casa Mako is thus shaped through a few gestures and many variations: recurring geometries, shifting colors and thresholds that connect different spaces. A deliberately exuberant home, where the freedom of its combinations emerges from a precise and coherent underlying framework."

Photo by Carlotta Di Sandro

See the full story on Dwell.com: Eleven Types of Tile Lay the Groundwork for a Home Renovation in the Tuscan Countryside
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Rental Revamp: With the Owner’s OK, They Put $1,200 Worth of Plywood Into Their Topanga Kitchen

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Wed, 14 Oct 2026 11:56:26 -0700

A designer and architect’s only regret in refacing the cabinets of their family’s 1928 home is that they didn’t do it sooner.

When architect Mason St. Peter and his wife, designer Isabelle Elsliger-Garant, moved into a former hunting cabin in Topanga Canyon half a mile down a dirt road, they weren’t afraid to make the rental their own. The couple got right to work on things a tenant can change without giving a landlord a panic attack: they brought in some midcentury pieces scored from friends working at vintage shops, switched in their favorite lamps, and added fresh coats of paint where they could.

"Everything was very nice," Mason says of the 1928 home, "but the kitchen..." The oak cabinets were Shaker-style, off-the-shelf units, installed sometime in the 1980s. The cramped, disjointed layout wasn’t one Mason would’ve necessarily designed for one of his own projects. In general, he’s a man with firm opinions about kitchens, drawn to light, open spaces, plywood or vertical-grain fir cabinetry, and high-function plans. This little remote cabin had none of that. "It’s a rental, so I thought we couldn’t do anything with it," he says. "I just had to turn my back on it." So he did, somewhat literally: every time he photographed the house or shared a snapshot of a cozy moment at home, the kitchen stayed out of frame.

Eventually, a friend in Australia noticed and teased, "Who needs a kitchen, right?" He was just joking around, but the comment nudged Mason to reconsider punching up a space he thought he couldn’t touch. After all, by this point, he and Isabelle had been there for five years. Was this truly a temporary space? Could they really keep pretending the kitchen didn’t exist forever?

The answer, they decided, was no.

Luckily, over the course of five years, Mason and Isabelle had done enough successful mini updates to the property to build a foundation of trust with their landlady—refacing the kitchen was a big ask, but they'd proven to her they had the taste and skills to do the job right. Isabelle tipped the first design domino by repainting the kitchen floor. "It just changed everything," says Mason. The paint job helped him see the room with new eyes, and finally the inspiration started flowing. He loaded his kids into his van and drove to Anderson Plywood Sales in Culver City, which stocks clean-faced plywood, and came home with 12 sheets to turn into new cabinet facing.

"I’m one of those people that’s like, measure twice, cut once. But it’s actually like measure six times and it’s still not right," laughs Mason. Nevertheless, the install only took a couple of days. They kept the existing boxes, removed the door and drawer faces, replaced them with plywood, and clad the sides. Then it was a new faucet, and a crisp coat of Benjamin Moore paint for the walls, both for a little over $100.

Plywood accounted for $1,200 of the roughly $1,500 total, not counting the value of the couple’s labor. "If we were to pay someone else to do it, it would be quite a bit more," says Mason. The counters are still on the to-do list—but for now, existing butcher block runs along one side, blue tile on the other.

A broken, pill-shaped marble piece that Mason found and repaired became a coffee counter, topped with an espresso machine gifted by Anza. A George Nelson bubble lamp from the shop Modern for All sits beside it, and a Paul McCobb table—a recent find from a San Francisco midcentury dealer— tucks underneath.

See the full story on Dwell.com: Rental Revamp: With the Owner’s OK, They Put $1,200 Worth of Plywood Into Their Topanga Kitchen
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After Being Owned by One Family for 64 Years, This Santa Cruz Midcentury Asks $3M

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Wed, 14 Oct 2026 09:56:35 -0700

Architect Kermit Darrow designed the redwood-clad home in 1962, and it’s now being publicly offered for the first time.

Location: 39 Ortalon Avenue, Santa Cruz, California

Price: $3,200,000

Year Built: 1962

Architect: Kermit Darrow (AIA)

Staging: Coy & Co. Home

Renovation Date: 2015

Footprint: 2,982 square feet (4 beds, 2 baths)

Lot Size: 0.23 acres

From the Agent: "Designed in 1962 by architect Kermit Darrow, AIA, 39 Ortalon Avenue embodies his 'light for living' philosophy, with natural light moving through the home from sunrise to sunset and a seamless connection between indoors and out. Offered publicly for the first time, the four-bedroom, two-bath residence spans nearly 3,000 square feet on a 9,975-square-foot lot in Santa Cruz’s Upper Westside.

Lovingly maintained by the same family since it was built, the home preserves Darrow’s original architectural vision while incorporating updates including a renovated kitchen and bathrooms, Miele appliances, radiant-heated floors, newer windows and skylights, a newer roof, updated plumbing and electrical, owned solar panels, and updated interior and exterior lighting. Outdoor entertaining areas redesigned by Joni Janecki & Associates extend the architecture into the landscape."

Designed in 1962 by architect Kermit Darrow, the four-bedroom, two-bath home sits on a 9,975-square-foot lot in Santa Cruz’s Upper Westside. It is being offered publicly for the first time after being owned by the same family since it was built.

Photo by Maven X Visuals

Darrow conceived the nearly 3,000-square-foot home around a philosophy he called "light for living," bringing daylight into the interiors and creating connections to the outdoors. A custom entry door with brass handles opens toward the main living spaces.

Photo by Maven X Visuals

See the full story on Dwell.com: After Being Owned by One Family for 64 Years, This Santa Cruz Midcentury Asks $3M
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A Circular Opening in the Roof Cuts Straight to the Heart of This Oaxacan Home

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Wed, 14 Oct 2026 08:56:19 -0700

An oculus centered above the pool anchors the indoor/outdoor floor plan.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Puerto Escondido, Mexico

Architect: TAC Taller Alberto Calleja / @taller_alberto_calleja

Footprint: 3,229 square feet

Landscape Design: Hugo Sánchez

Photographer: César Belio / @cesarbelio

From the Architect: "Casa Cieno is located in the El Vigía sector of Puerto Escondido on the coast of Oaxaca. The project was conceived under the premise of not imposing itself on the surroundings, but rather blending into the site to become part of the landscape. Unlike most residences of this type on the coast, Cieno is not located directly in front of the sea; therefore, the architecture prioritizes interiorizing the experience of the spaces, containing them with the surrounding vegetation, and seeks a harmonious relationship between them and their immediate context.

"As a siting strategy, it was decided to rotate the main volume diagonally in relation to the property boundaries to generate green patios along its perimeter that function as a vegetal filter, isolating the house from the neighboring boundaries. This defines a rectangular volume organized around a central patio where the pool becomes the organizing core of the project. All spaces are articulated around it, allowing this central patio to become the protagonist of the house and define its main character.

"The architectural program is organized by separating the social areas from the private ones through the central water element, creating paths that ‘float’ over it and lead to each of the two bedrooms. This space, in addition to its use as a pool, functions as an element of transition and calm that visually connects all uses. Above it, a circular opening in the slab frames the sky and allows natural light to enter, defining not only the character of the project, but also revealing the passage of time to its inhabitants.

"An honest material palette was chosen that responds directly to the climatic conditions of the Oaxacan coast. The use of exposed concrete and wood was strategically selected to allow the architecture to age organically with the site. Finally, the roof is transformed into a green rooftop that allows users to recover views towards the sea and the Oaxacan mountains, becoming a habitable extension of the home. With the intention of minimizing the impact of the construction, this strategy returns part of the green area occupied by the building to the site and generates a positive effect on the natural climate control of the project."

Photo: César Belio

See the full story on Dwell.com: A Circular Opening in the Roof Cuts Straight to the Heart of This Oaxacan Home

Imagining Home at the End of the World

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Tue, 13 Oct 2026 11:56:25 -0700

Postapocalyptic media has long served as a reflection on what ails us. Right now, TV is particularly full of such series—all with varying visions of how we’ll live after global disaster.

Television right now is filled with examples of what home after the apocalypse might look like: fallout shelters, dilapidated farmhouses, a fortressed city, a beat up car, a spaceship, or a fortified apartment complex. In series produced in the last decade, like AMC’s The Walking Dead, CW’s The 100, Apple TV’s Silo, HBO’s The Last of Us, Peacock’s Twisted Metal, Prime’s Fallout, and Hulu’s Paradise, the sentimental abstraction of home is largely abandoned: there is no live, laugh, love; no home is where the heart is. Instead the postapocalyptic dwelling is bleak, sometimes temporary, and often oppressive.

Whether it’s Silo’s or Fallout’s bunkers or the livable ruins of The Walking Dead, it’s the architecture of the Anthropocene, constructed or adapted in response to a collapse precipitated by humankind’s hubris. Existence isn’t just a question of personal skill or luck, it’s a question of design and engineering.

The apocalypse narrative serves as a proxy for reflection on what ails us culturally, politically, and environmentally. As the wealthy real-life luxurious bunkers and remote refuges, seemingly convinced of their necessity, and the climate crisis intensifies, the postapocalyptic house offered up by television seems to answer what feel like increasingly urgent questions: How does one live after a human-made global disaster? What materials will endure after humanity has destroyed the planet? And can home exist at the end of the world?

The Silo TV series, based on a 2010s trilogy of novels, takes place in a dystopian future where 10,000 people live in giant underground bunker.

Courtesy Apple TV

Humanity has been waiting for end times for millennia.

The Biblical apocalypse in books of Daniel and Revelation laid out visions of the last days, and Protestantism gave those last days more flourish, adding the rapture and tribulation. The Biblical end had little to say about survival simply because it wasn’t an option: the end was quite literal. Secularization revamped the Biblical images of horsemen and monsters into the postapocalypse, less focused on the inevitable wrath of God and more on the existential question of humankind’s survival, especially in an increasingly industrial world.

In an essay from the 2020’s The Cambridge Companion to Apocalyptic Literature, Lorenzo DiTommaso, a professor at Concordia University and prolific scholar on the apocalypse, writes that the postapocalypse "attained its first full expression with the Atomic Age in 1945," arguing that the "driving mechanism" of apocalyptic entertainment was the newfound human ability to "cause death and destruction on a planetary scale." The sense that planetary doom could be imminent permeated, and nations began envisioning how to survive a nuclear attack. Switzerland, for example, was an avid builder of Cold War bunkers.

In 1951, in the wake of the Manhattan Project, the United States’s World War II-era program to develop nuclear weapons, the government founded the Federal Civil Defense Administration (FCDA), dedicated to preparing Americans for survival after a nuclear fallout. The short films the FCDA produced were arguably some of the Atomic Age’s earliest postapocalyptic fiction. In the short film Survival Under Attack, for example, Americans were encouraged to ready their basements as a kind of fallout shelter in case of a nuclear attack. The narrator intones that "preparation can be survival."

As the Cold War intensified, President John F. Kennedy called for "fallout protection for every American as rapidly as possible" in a 1961 address. The shelter construction industry boomed in the 1960s, especially as the federal government invested the modern equivalent of $1.7 billion to build structures that could theoretically protect citizens in the event of a nuclear war. Though it’s impossible to know how many were built, it’s estimated that by 1965, roughly 200,000 had been built across the United States.

How to repurpose the ruin is a persistent question in postapocalypse entertainment, and some on-screen depictions put forth a different vision of homes recreated from wreckage.

Fallout shelters were perceived as a solution, an oasis of safety in human-made destruction, despite legitimate questions about who had access to them and whether or not they were as indestructible as advertised. The structures entered the cultural imagination alongside an eager embrace of the postapocalypse as entertainment in mainstream media. Novels about the apocalypse saw a rapid increase in the 1970s and after, and film and television followed. According to a study cited by DiTommaso, half of "apocalyptic" novels, films, and other mass media that appeared since the late-19th century were produced after 1995. Even as the Cold War waned and anxieties over nuclear proliferation diminished, the interest in postapocalyptic media intensified. Now, the end of the world has many possibilities: environmental collapse, political disorder, pandemics, and irresponsible technological experimentation. Still, the underground bunker has endured, both in fiction and reality, as the most common postapocalyptic dwelling.

Silo (2023-present) and Paradise (2025-present), feature elaborate and entirely self-contained bunkers. But the two dwellings are a stark aesthetic contrast. Paradise’s subterranean society is a luxe escape from the reality of climate catastrophe. Built into the Colorado mountains by a tech billionaire to house hand-selected survivors—other billionaires, tech gurus, politicians, and people of influence—as part of the evocatively named Versailles protocol, its actual form is obscured by a simulacrum of the dead planet: motorized ducks swim in manmade ponds, recorded sounds of insects are piped into the environment, and the sky is a generated image. The elite bunker feels like a slop planet—a digital recreation of Earth where residents leisurely navigate the apocalypse rather than hunker down to scrape out survival. It’s a fitting representation of our current reality in which disaster-preparedness (and recovery) is increasingly becoming a luxury good for the ultrawealthy, and Mark Zuckerberg, Peter Thiel, Sam Altman, and even Kim Kardashian reportedly either have or are planning to have their own high-end doomsday compounds equipped with everything from designer kitchens to swimming pools, wine cellars, and, of course, private security guards. For those with enough capital, planetary demise is little more than a persistent annoyance.

In contrast, the self-sustaining world of Silo houses thousands of survivors of a mysterious world-ending event, and stretches deep underground, its 144 levels connected by a massive staircase. Rendered in aging concrete and cast into perpetually dingy shadows, the silo is remarkable in its construction, but is aesthetically utilitarian and visibly aging. There, luxuries are rare. Production designer Gavin Bocquet told the Guardian that his team was "inspired by brutalist apartment blocks" of the Soviet Union.

Both the Paradise and Silo bunkers are necessarily designed to prevent movement both in and out of their doors. The bunker might be, as President Kennedy suggested, a means to ensure existence, but its consequences, fiction seems to imply, often involves the death of personal expression and freedom. The Belgian television show, Into the Night, which aired on Netflix in 2020, makes that connection between survival and authoritarianism explicit: Its bleak, colorless bunker, cast in partial darkness, and lit by overhead neon lights (often flickering, of course), is run by the military, and those who escape its confines must attempt to eke out an existence under a poisoned sun.

The Last of Us, a postapocalyptic TV series based on a 2013 video game franchise, is set two decades into a pandemic that collapsed society and turned infected humans into zombie-like creatures.

Photo by Liane Hentscher/HBO

Even when the fictional postapocalyptic home isn’t buried underground, it will usually be housed in concrete—modernity’s most durable material. That’s true in Silo, as well as in The Last of Us (2023-present), where government-run cities are carved from concrete and the architecture, like the governance, is severe. Here, home is simultaneously savior and enemy. Walled cities are almost always the site of draconian politics.

In The Last of Us, based on the namesake 2013 video game, the alternative to a life lived in a military-run quarantine zone is the risky endeavor of sheltering in a traditional but crumbling home (often farmhouse style) that is perpetually vulnerable to the threats of a zombie-infested post-outbreak America. Living in the wreckage, the contrast suggests, is hard but there is the potential for immeasurable freedom if one can just survive. The choice is rendered in materials: freedom in the dangerous ruins or tyranny in the concrete.

Fallout, another video game-turned-TV show, leans into the contrast between a dwelling preserved from destruction and the exterior ruins. The so-called lucky live in retrofuturistic subterranean shelters while the population aboveground wars over scraps. The concrete-and-steel structure of the bunker is a stark contrast to the midcentury-modern interiors filled with the warm natural woods, Sputnik chandeliers, and colorful furnishings and wallpaper that fixes the end of the world in the Atomic Age. On the surface, hideously mutated survivors have learned to live in what’s left of Los Angeles, salvaging modernity’s scraps to create livable spaces.

Like the video game franchise it’s based on, the Fallout TV series takes inspiration from postwar culture of the 1950s United States in the retrofuturistic look of its underground bunker.

Photo by Lorenzo Sisti/Amazon Studios

See the full story on Dwell.com: Imagining Home at the End of the World
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There’s a Bright Blue Studio at the Back of This £3.75M London Home

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Tue, 13 Oct 2026 10:56:03 -0700

Renovated in the ’70s by architect John Winter, the brick house pairs 1880s details with glass blocks and overflowing gardens.

Location: Swains Lane, London, United Kingdom

Price: £3,750,000 (approximately $4,964,093 USD)

Footprint: 2,987 square feet (3 beds, 3 baths)

Renovation Architect: John Winter

From the Listing: "This exceptional house lies on the fringes of Highgate Cemetery and Waterlow Park in north London. Originally built in the 1880s, the house was updated by renowned modernist architect John Winter in the 1970s. Inside, a spectacular double-height reception room has banks of glazing with treetop views, while a living space on the first floor opens onto a serene private balcony overlooking Waterlow Park. A later extension houses a light-filled studio, and gardens at the front and rear of the house are filled with greenery."

Renovated in the ’70s by architect John Winter, this brick house in London pairs 1880s details with glass blocks and overflowing gardens.

Photo courtesy of The Modern House

The front garden, one of two at the property, has terra-cotta tiles and wisteria climbing old stone walls.

Photo courtesy of The Modern House

See the full story on Dwell.com: There’s a Bright Blue Studio at the Back of This £3.75M London Home
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Low Cost DIYs Brought the Couple Behind @Cabagges’s Rental Apartment Kitchen to Life

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Tue, 13 Oct 2026 09:56:15 -0700

Anna Archibald and Kevin Serai share cooking videos with their audience of over 1 million from the bare bones space that they’ve upgraded over the last two and a half years.

When Anna Archibald and Kevin Serai—the food content creator couple known as Cabagges—met through a mutual friend in 2016 in New York City, they realized they had a few things in common: they’re both from Hawaii, half-Japanese, and worked in creative fields. When they began dating in 2021, they also discovered a shared love language of cooking. "Our first few dates, Anna came over [to my apartment in the Lower East Side] and I cooked for her, and then she cooked for me," says Serai. "Early on, we were making a lot of traditional Japanese food and some local Hawaii stuff. It was just us having fun, learning to make these dishes that we love or wanted to eat."

TikTok was new at the time and cooking content hadn’t yet become ubiquitous, so posting videos to that platform felt relatively anonymous—except Archibald and Serai’s first post went viral. "We made mille-feuille nabe, a hot pot with cabbage and pork that’s layered and arranged. It’s very simple, but looks beautiful," says Archibald. (The name Cabagges is a slight nod to that dish.) Despite the unexpected social media engagement, the couple weren’t thinking about leaning into content creation at that point. They had separate careers—Archibald worked as a graphic designer, Serai in marketing for an eyewear brand—and were living in separate apartments, so they only posted occasionally.

Their online presence ramped up when they moved in together in Williamsburg, and after they decided to give food content creation a go full-time. When they first toured their rental apartment two and a half years ago, it was far from their dream home, but in classic New York City fashion, they were desperate to find something and time was running out. "We were like, ‘Okay, nothing is looking better,’" Serai remembers when they settled on it, "but I think one thing we both appreciated about this place was that it didn’t have anything in it."

They’re not joking about the kitchen doing the very least. Instead of standard upper cabinet storage, there’s a built-in shelf that had gone through the deluxe landlord paint special, so much so that the doors wouldn’t close. A single exposed light bulb hung from the ceiling. A small, freestanding range stood by the room’s one window next to an old radiator. The thin sheet metal sink was rusted and bent. There were zero countertops—the previous tenant set up a small corner table meant to serve as a worktop.

"I think a lot of people would see all of this as a negative, but we were like, ‘At least we can do something with the space,’" says Serai. Archibald also adds that the features they did love about the kitchen were the original tile floor and the high ceilings. "Our search for an apartment was centered around a kitchen and this one was very bare, but we thought there was potential," she says.

Now going into their third year in the apartment, Serai and Archibald have turned their little kitchen that could into their favorite and most-used room. It’s not only where their cooking videos are staged, but their home office, where they develop recipes and design merch, too. Ahead, the couple chat through the affordable DIY projects—using materials and supplies mainly sourced at Home Depot, Lowe’s, or Ikea—that transformed their once sad-looking, empty kitchen into a cozy corner of the food-obsessed internet.

See the full story on Dwell.com: Low-Cost DIYs Brought the Couple Behind @Cabagges’s Rental Apartment Kitchen to Life
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The Interior of This Brick Home in Belgium Takes an Unexpected Turn

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Mon, 12 Oct 2026 13:56:22 -0700

Its floor plan is set at a 45-degree angle, creating dynamic living spaces that don’t snap to grid.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Location: Gent, Belgium

Architect: Atelier Vens Vanbelle / @ateliervensvanbelle

Footprint: 2,475 square feet

Structural Engineer: Denkbar

From the Architect: "The building was designed as a sober and simple volume that is reminiscent of an old atelier or a small-scale classic industrial building. It is constructed from bricks with character, which give the impression that this building has always been there. This creates an interesting dialogue with the surrounding buildings (including the neighbor's blind facade), whereby the idea of new construction turns into a question about which buildings was there first.

"The building volume was deliberately kept compact and simple, but without sacrificing any of the experience value. An additional advantage is that the garden area is considerably larger, which improves the quality of life. The brickwork method refers to 19th-century industrial buildings, with a layered brickwork pattern, large windows, rainwater drains as an architectural element, etc.

"No windows were provided in the street facade, which creates an abstract image in the street. In the other facades, the large windows ensure that daylight enters abundantly. The interior walls were also constructed in exposed brick, which also evokes the atmosphere of an atelier in the interior. This is reinforced by the choice of flooring (clay tiles), steel profiles, and wooden accents. Despite the fact that this is a new building, the way it was built ensures that the house feels very lived-in and homely.

"The 45-degree angle in the floor plan provides a number of surprising elements. For example, there is a large planter in the middle of the plan. This planter separates the sitting area from the rest of the living space. The sitting area is also located a few steps higher, and the stairs to the upper floor also start from here. Above the diamond-shaped void is a set of skylights, which allows a lot of daylight to enter the house and make it very bright and livable. The upper floor is clearly conceived: four identical bedrooms were created, covered with veneer. The remaining space between the rooms was provided with a soft carpet, which in combination with the brick walls creates a pleasant multipurpose space. A wrought iron construction was hung on the rear facade, covered with transparent corrugated sheets. This construction reinforces the industrial look of the building and forms a pleasant covered terrace.

"The choice of materials was continued at the end of the plot, where a brick construction was erected that serves as a garden shed, bicycle shed, and covered terrace. A light and transparent roof covering was also added here, so that this annex and the house form one logical and coherent whole, and where the materials form a unique and pleasant experience in the garden. The energy supply was provided autonomously as much as possible. The result is a comfortable and contemporary house with a unique appearance that integrates into the streetscape and fully focuses on living quality.

Photo courtesy of Atelier Vens Vanbelle

See the full story on Dwell.com: The Interior of This Brick Home in Belgium Takes an Unexpected Turn
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Craig Ellwood’s $6M "House of Steel" Floats Above L.A.

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Mon, 12 Oct 2026 11:56:30 -0700

Built in 1953, the fully furnished and restored Crestwood Hills home rises above its sloping site, with walls of glass framing views of Los Angeles and the Pacific.

Location: 1515 North Tigertail Road, Los Angeles, California

Price: $5,995,000

Year Built: 1953

Architect: Craig Ellwood

Footprint: 1,926 square feet (3 beds, 3.5 baths)

Lot Size: 0.27 acres

From the Agent: "The Byron Lamar & Agnes M. Johnson House, designed by Craig Ellwood in 1953, is the third in his celebrated series of steel hillside residences—a body of midcentury architecture significant enough to earn the Los Angeles Examiner headline ‘Beauty of the House of Steel.’

Perched at the crown of Crestwood Hills on one of Brentwood’s most prestigious addresses, Ellwood’s signature steel columns and wood beams lift the structure above the hillside in a floating composition. By day, views of the Pacific stretch to Catalina Island; by night, Los Angeles can be seen shimmering from the living room.

The home has been meticulously restored and updated for modern living while preserving Ellwood’s original ethos. Details include terrazzo floors, Lutron lighting, Fleetwood and Baldwin doors and windows, Waterworks fixtures, motorized shades, and a restored gas-and-woodburning fireplace. The kitchen is equipped with Gaggenau, Wolf, and Sub-Zero appliances, while an outdoor kitchen includes a Lynx barbecue and pizza oven. The property also comes fully automated with solar panels, Tesla Powerwalls, EV charging, whole-house water filtration, and a brand new roof with a rooftop sprinkler system.

The main residence has three bedrooms and three baths, while a new ADU adds a private one-bedroom suite with a full steam shower and kitchen that opens directly to the pool. Both addresses are part of the sale.

The property is a candidate for historic designation and the Mills Act, which could offer property tax savings to a qualified buyer. It is offered fully furnished, with finishes and fixtures chosen to create a turnkey experience and complement the architecture. The Tigertail trailhead is steps from the front door, while Brentwood Country Mart and the Farmers Market are a short drive away."

Built in 1953 and meticulously restored, the Byron Lamar & Agnes M. Johnson House is a 1,926-square-foot home that sits high in Brentwood’s Crestwood Hills. Architect Craig Ellwood used his signature slender steel frame construction to elevate the main level over its sloping site.

Photo by Jilbert Daniel

The house is the third in Ellwood’s series of steel-framed hillside residences. Steel columns, wood beams, and broad expanses of glass give the upper level its lightweight appearance.

Photo by Jilbert Daniel

See the full story on Dwell.com: Craig Ellwood’s $6M "House of Steel" Floats Above L.A.
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Design Brands Are Now Duping Themselves—Sort Of

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Mon, 12 Oct 2026 07:56:17 -0700

As low-price, low-quality knockoffs go viral on social media, home goods retailers are finding new ways to compete in the price wars.

They’ve gone by many different names over the years—knockoffs, replicas, and fakes—but recently counterfeit goods have become known as "dupes." The word practically rolls off your tongue. It doesn’t have the same back-alley connotations as, say, a bootleg handbag, and sort of sounds cute. Unlike years past where a fake Birkin would have been a major faux pas, social media has turned buying lower-priced versions of viral products into a badge of honor. Selling them, too. While brands like Restoration Hardware have quietly copied the work of more famous designs, new retailers like Quince are loudly marketing look-alikes to shoppers who want low-cost luxury.

Independent designers and larger brands alike have tried to fight knockoffs as best they can, through lawsuits, shaming, and educational efforts. Success has been limited because few can afford legal fees and copyright is notoriously difficult to obtain for design objects. Meanwhile, cheap replicas have become even harder to fight because it’s easier than ever for sellers to generate AI images of a product, open an online storefront, buy Google Ads, and bank on the viral product marketing itself. A couple years ago, social media and marketing experts began advising brands to embrace the dupe and now, it seems, some are taking that suggestion by duping themselves.

OMHU launched in 2022 and their Teddy sofa quickly became one of the most popular sofas on our Instagram feeds.

Courtesy OMHU

OMHU, the Danish brand behind the viral "boneless" Teddy sofa, is one of them. Dupes of its design—all-foam cushions that rest on the floor, held in place by a chrome frame—can be found via Walmart, Wayfair, Temu, and AliExpress for around $300; a real Teddy runs about $2,000. "I had quite a lot of people just sending me stuff where it’s like, ‘This looks like your sofa, but it isn’t. What’s going on?’" says Christine Smith, the creative director of OMHU. "It’s a never-ending thing." Just as soon as they reported counterfeits on Temu and were able to get the platform to take down the storefront, another shop would pop up the next day.

Smith wanted to try something else. In early September, OMHU launched the Tedy (the misspelling is intentional), a bright-orange iteration of the Teddy for $799.99, with free shipping. The idea was to "outdupe the dupe." It produced 100 Tedy sofas—50 for shoppers in Europe and 50 for shoppers in the U.S.—and dropped them on Temu, Etsy, and dupe.com. They sold out in 10 minutes. In an ironic twist, Temu reported suspicious activity when OMHU sold the sofas on its platform and disabled the storefront so the brand had to individually contact each buyer to ship the sofa to them. OMHU doesn’t plan to restock Tedys, but they did make a website—iconicdupe.com—to preserve the campaign.

In photos alone, you can pick up on a quality difference with OMHU’s Tedy sofa, the limited-edition ‘dupe version’ of the original Teddy sofa.

Courtesy OMHU

"I think sometimes when you treat stuff with a different tone of voice and not just pointing a finger, but actually doing it with a wink in the eye and a bit of humor, you can get a lot more people to pay attention," Smith says. The true aim is to skewer knockoffs and start a conversation about why they’re not worth buying.

Shoppers received the campaign enthusiastically, but perhaps weren’t in on the joke. "This was such a smart business decision!" said one comment on the brand’s Instagram. "You guys have been missing out on so many customers and $$$ from people who simply can’t justify spending $1,500 to $3,000 on a couch in this economy."

This mismatch between what people want to spend and how much it costs to produce a quality product is where the tension lies. Brands are sympathetic to the budget constraints of fans and want their products in as many hands as possible, but you can’t please everyone. It took Rocco, the makers of a viral beverage fridge, a year and a half to develop a lower-cost option, the Essential fridge, which launched in August. At $1,195, it’s nearly half the price of the Classic yet still features a whisper-soft compressor and very even and precise cooling inside, according to the brand.

Rocco’s beverage fridge caught a lot of attention when it launched, but at $1,995 it’s not the most accessibly priced. The Essential fridge is still an investment piece at $1,195, but it opens the door to more customers.

Courtesy Rocco

See the full story on Dwell.com: Design Brands Are Now Duping Themselves—Sort Of
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Budget Breakdown: How a Finnish Couple Built a Custom €1M Prefab That’s "All Wood and No Chemicals"

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Fri, 9 Oct 2026 10:56:19 -0700

Their cross-laminated timber home is the first by Kainuu, a builder sourcing wood within 50 miles of its factory.

When Finnish architect Pekka Airaxin first met Nicholas Anderson and Tuire Niemi, he was looking for investors in his new cross-laminated timber homebuilding start-up, Kainuu. Instead, the couple became the company’s first clients. Tuire and Nicholas had lived in cities—most recently Helsinki—for much of their careers as financiers, and were ready to build a home in the countryside to begin working remotely.

While they were not familiar with CLT, Kainuu’s wood house designs were attractive, as were the budget, construction timeline, and purported sustainability benefits. So the couple tapped Airaxin and his company to create a custom 2,153-square-foot gable residence on their wooded plot 40 minutes west of the city center, in the seaside village of Siuntio.

A Helsinki couple wanting to move out of the city built a 2,153-square-foot prefab home by Kainuu, which uses cross-laminated timber made from wood sourced within 50 miles of its factory.

Photo: Tuomas Uusheimo

"It was really important to me that this house is all wood and no chemicals," says Tuire, who hails from northeast Finland and spent a year and a half studying sustainability at Finland’s Hanken School of Economics. Well, almost all wood. "Ninety-five percent," says Airaxin, who’s also Kainuu’s chief design officer.

The home includes a few other materials, like aluminum-framed windows; powder-coated steel railings around the terrace and front steps; the steel roof, set at a 90-degree angle with no eaves to prevent snow piles; and steel pylons, which raise the house about two-and-a-half feet above the ground to create continuous air circulation and prevent rot in its wooden subfloor. The technique comes from traditional Finnish rossipohja construction, says Nicholas, a Brit who first moved to Finland in the 1970s. Setting Kainuu houses atop piles also avoids a carbon-intensive slab-on-grade foundation and assures a building can be removed entirely at the end of its life, says Airaxin.

Architect Pekka Airaxin designed the home’s accent lighting with Finnish company Spigot. The ceiling track lighting is by SuperLED. The living room seating area includes a Nakki sofa by Woud Design and a Barcelona chair by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.

Photo: Tuomas Uusheimo

The traditional Finnish sauna by Tähtisaunat Oy was an at-home necessity for owner Nicholas Anderson. Tile flooring is by Pukkila.

Photo: Tuomas Uusheimo

See the full story on Dwell.com: Budget Breakdown: How a Finnish Couple Built a Custom €1M Prefab That’s "All Wood and No Chemicals"

What the Obama Center Actually Cost—and Everything Else You Need to Know About This Week

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Fri, 9 Oct 2026 09:56:12 -0700

NYC debuts new app-based public toilets, why some are saying midcentury modern is cringe now, and more.

Chicago’s Obama Presidential Center cost nearly $1 billion to build—$59 million more than the previously released figure, which the Obama Foundation attributes to added amenities. The privately funded construction bill excludes another $123 million in publicly funded infrastructure improvements in and around the site. But the foundation isn’t done spending yet. (Chicago Sun Times)
New York City rolled out 17 modular public toilets across the five boroughs, offering a "spiffy" way to use the bathroom around town. An app shows how clean a bathroom is and unlocks the door for you, but you’ll need a smartphone or a special card to get in, which is raising questions about the latrines’ accessibility. (Hellgate)
Once a symbol of post-World War II optimism, midcentury modern is now being labeled "millennial cringe," a verdict that seems more focused on who’s buying it than the actual design itself. (The Wall Street Journal)

Midcentury-modern-style decor at a Joe & the Juice location in San Ramon, California.

Photo by Smith Collection/Gado/Getty Images

Aging buildings, rising insurance costs, and required balcony inspections are driving up fees for California condo owners, threatening what has historically been a relatively affordable path to homeownership. In one San Clemente complex, a surprise $26,000 emergency roof assessment has residents trying to oust their HOA board. (The Los Angeles Times)
After more than a century without house numbers, Carmel-by-the-Sea is adopting street addresses to help ambulances and deliveries find the right door with a bit less guesswork. The town’s city council approved the change in June. But some longtime residents see it as another factor in the erosion of the character of their small, coastal town. (The New York Times)

Top photo by Marcin Golba/NurPhoto via Getty Images

Is AI Replacing Realtors?

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Fri, 9 Oct 2026 08:56:15 -0700

Prospective homebuyers and sellers are leaning on chatbots to estimate prices, parse inspection reports, and even draft up offer letters. The professionals say that’s causing problems.

When Joey Santiago started to think about buying a house in the competitive Southern California market several years back, he went to ChatGPT for help. He wanted to become financially stable enough to afford a down payment, and though he says the advice he received was pretty generic, like recommendations to "save money" and "use a high yield savings account," he admits it was nice to have a framework.

That’s why earlier this year, when Santiago had finally scraped together what he says was "a fat down payment" thanks to ChatGPT’s advice, he went back to the artificial intelligence well for help envisioning how he could make potential properties his own. By taking measurements and providing pictures of a kitchen, guest room, or primary bath, he says, he could ask Grok and ChatGPT questions like: Could a queen bed fit in this space? What kinds of floor molding could I use in this room? What kind of 30- to 32-inch midcentury-modern vanity would work in this bathroom?

The results weren’t always foolproof, he says, and he always made sure to cross-check the chatbots’ responses before he made any offers or placed furniture orders. But he says using AI helped him figure out what he could do with a space, even if it was owner occupied, full of furniture, and had horrible carpet and popcorn ceilings.

Santiago’s not alone in believing this. More and more people are turning to AI for help navigating the home buying and selling process, leaning on chatbots for answers to questions and guidance in gaining a competitive and financial edge. Meanwhile, many homeseekers are calling out realtors’ use of AI to tweak listing photos or generate flashy videos, calling the practice deceptive "housefishing." (That’s just one way realtors are using AI, as Dwell has previously reported.) It’s like an ouroboros, and all along the way, AI’s rise is majorly impacting the housing market, with data centers causing market price fluctuations and contributing to the ecological issues that could change where humans can comfortably live in decades to come.

A recent LendingTree study said that 72 percent of all Americans are comfortable using AI for at least one task related to buying or selling a home, like looking for the best realtor in an area or asking for mortgage tips. (A Realtor.com survey from last year put that number closer to 85 percent.) Meanwhile, a study by Veterans United Home Loans found that 53 percent of prospective homebuyers would be comfortable buying a home without any direct human involvement, and, according to the LendingTree study, 37 percent of respondents would let AI manage their entire home purchase with minimal human input. Younger buyers, like those in Gen Z, are particularly prone to relying on AI, with about a third saying they use it to do much of their research about the process. The LendingTree study also found that 36 percent of respondents expect AI to be able to handle most or all of a home sale or purchase by 2036—a fact that’s increasingly concerning to realtors, many of whom are already dealing with a scourge of increasingly fraught transactions thanks to people asking AI for guidance.

Earlier this year, New York City realtor and reality TV personality Ryan Serhant said he’d had a $50 million deal blown up at the last minute after both the buyer and seller consulted ChatGPT to ask about whether the property was priced correctly. (ChatGPT reportedly told the seller to ask for more money, while it told the buyer the property was overpriced.) In Florida, a man went viral this spring for using ChatGPT to price, list, and sell his four-bed, three-bath house online, only to have area realtors point out in the press that the seller had probably left upward of $200,000 on the table thanks to shoddy listing photos and a too-low initial asking price, both of which are issues a human realtor likely would have caught and addressed.

Some buyers and sellers have taken to Reddit to ask others’ opinions on whether they should use AI in their processes, weighing the viability of using it to help with negotiations, identify potential local tax increases, and review FEMA flood maps. It makes sense in theory: About a third of U.S. adults already say they use AI large language models every day, so why shouldn’t they apply that practice to real estate? That was the logic of a number of people Dwell spoke with in early reporting for this story, most of whom didn’t think the way they used AI tools during the home searching or selling process was notable enough to warrant their comment. In replies, though, most Redditors typically seem skeptical about the whole idea, rebuffing people with lines like, "Is the most expensive thing you’ll ever buy the kind of thing you want to leave up to a computer that doesn’t know many letters are in a word?" Some have come through with their own tips and tricks, however, like using Claude to create a project checklist after an offer is accepted.

Megan Brenn-White, founder of Compass’s Upstate Curious team in New York, says she noticed an uptick in buyer/seller AI use around six months ago. It’s only in the last two or three months, though, that she says it’s become an overwhelmingly large problem in the industry, leading her to chastise homeseekers’ use of AI multiple times in her company’s newsletter that goes out to potential buyers and sellers. After a New York Times story followed a reporter that successfully listed and sold his upstate New York property using an AI chatbot to gather advice on everything from pricing to the best photos to use on the listing, Brenn-White posted an Instagram Reel with 10 arguments against the writer’s case, telling Dwell that she did it because "it’s important to educate the people that the agents on my team are going to have to work with, period."

"People are dropping out of deals or asking for wild numbers—like a roof that we would get a quote from a contractor for let’s say $30,000, AI was telling them would be $70,000."

Brenn-White says her team—which is composed of 23 agents who will do about 450 deals this year—has run up against clients relying too heavily on advice from AI chatbots about things like listing prices or future interest rates, only to miss out on properties they really loved. "It feels like it went very quickly from, ‘Huh, this happened with this deal, isn’t that strange,’ to, ‘Whoa, a lot of deals are falling apart—or not coming together—because of this,’" she says. The Upstate Curious team is trying to head off any faulty information AI might deliver, though the only thing they’ve found that really works is putting any and all queries they can think of about a property into chatbots themselves in advance of posting a listing, just so they can preemptively guess what a buyer or seller might find.

Unrepresented buyers habitually use ChatGPT or Gemini to compose their offers, Brenn-White says, noting that her company had a listing where two unrepresented buyers submitted essentially the same offer in the same wording thanks to their independent use of the same AI platforms. "They were strange enough in their actual terms too that the seller couldn’t really accept them," she says. "Buyers can be unrepresented and that’s fine, but this was giving them so much incorrect information and strategy that the offers just weren’t strong. Plus, when the offers come in and they’re strange, that is probably what’s going to happen again during the inspection process or negotiation. It makes sellers not want to take those kinds of offers."

Upstate Curious agent Hillary Kolos, who was handling the listing, says she sensed something was up. "In the past we had unrepresented buyers reach out but usually if they were interested in putting in an offer they would pair up with a buyer’s agent," she says, adding that when unrepresented buyers have sent her offers, "it’s usually a couple sentences in an email and not written in a very organized way." In this case, however, both offer emails were overly organized, divided into sections with headings, and used gently persuasive language. Both offers also came in at almost exactly the same amount—about five percent under asking—leading Kolos to strike up her own informal investigation. Posing as a potential buyer for the property, she asked ChatGPT to help her make an offer, and unsurprisingly, the chatbot’s response came back at about five percent under ask and with very similar language to that in the emails.

Kolos says the sellers did end up taking one of those offers, but some fairly routine issues came up in the inspection that could have easily been addressed if the buyer had an agent to reassure them that those things were minor or could be addressed with renegotiation. That buyer then backed out and lost the $1,000 they spent on the inspection, and the sellers were forced to relist the property.

Speaking of inspections, Brenn-White says she also often runs into buyers who put a home’s reports through AI for analysis. When buyers then bring those concerns to their realtors, those professionals are somewhat limited in how they can address them. "Inspections are a very regulated field and they can be pretty terrifying if an inspector doesn’t explain the results well," she says. "As realtors, we’re not allowed to get into what they mean but we can say, ‘If the inspector says the roof is falling apart, here are three contractors that can give you a quote on the roof.’"

The issue arises when buyers also rely on AI tools to give them contractor recommendations and quotes. According to every realtor we talked to for this piece, AI chatbots are notoriously bad at region-specific recommendations, meaning if you’re asking for a roofer in upstate New York, it might give you someone working in Albany rather than in the Hudson Valley. Those realtors also say AI chatbots are bad at estimating costs, sometimes giving what could be Michigan pricing even if a home is in the Bay Area, where labor and costs are patently higher. "People are dropping out of deals or asking for wild numbers—like a roof that we would get a quote from a contractor for let’s say $30,000, AI was telling them would be $70,000," Brenn-White says. "It undermines their trust in us because if we’re like, ‘We have contractors who almost certainly can do that for less because we’ve seen this a million times,’ they’re like, ‘Well, ChatGPT says it could be this amount so this is what we want to negotiate.’"

Kati Spaniak, a realtor in the Chicago suburbs, says that when buyers use AI to parse their inspection reports, they’re often losing out on a realtor’s local expertise. "They’ll ask ChatGPT, ‘Is this an issue?’ and they’ll get generic comments, like, ‘Yes, that’s an issue,’ You need to bring in all these people to fix it," she says. "A local agent on the ground is going to be able to tell you more about that specific situation. Like if somebody’s inspection finds that a home has foundational cracks, the agent could say that these are the same kinds of cracks you’re going to find in ninety-nine percent of the homes in this location."

Shantih Moriarty, a real estate agent working with Redfin in the Bay Area, says that she’s even seen situations when AI agents hallucinate issues with inspections: "I’ve seen AI talk about cracks in foundations that aren’t there. I’ve seen it talk about particular types of piping, even if those pipes aren’t present." Brenn-White says that buyers’ misplaced trust in AI often gives heavier weight to its baseless assertions. Suzanne Goldklang, a licensed real estate salesperson in New York, adds: "Just because a computer spits something out and boldfaces and puts bullet points on it doesn’t mean it’s the best or most accurate information. AI is very good at making things look authoritative that are actually just random guesses."

Some buyers are willing to risk that authority, though, for a sense of autonomy. In Texas and Florida, newly launched real estate site Homa offers AI agents that walk users through the homebuying process before connecting them with centralized human agents to seal the deal. Aiming to reduce the amount of total commission buyers pay ostensibly by cutting one or more humans out of the process, the company says its AI chatbot is specifically trained on real estate issues in its markets. CEO and cofounder Arman Javaherian says this is particularly of interest to buyers who might like the ease or isolation that comes with a digital-only life, like ordering groceries through Instacart versus going to the grocery store. "We did a survey of a thousand homebuyers that closed in the last three years and something like sixty one percent said that they held back a question they wanted to ask their realtor because they worried it would be too annoying or cause them too much work," Javaherian says. Over 100 homes have closed or come under contract on Homa’s site to date and Javaherian says the company plans to expand into California soon.

While most real estate agents we spoke to were generally skeptical if not downright dismissive about forgoing agent expertise when buying or selling a home, some did admit clients could find value turning to AI sparingly during the process, provided they take the results with a grain of salt. For instance, Moriarty thinks AI tools can help generate questions about a report or particular listing and suggests her clients occasionally run documents like condo CC&Rs through AI, since they can sometimes run upward of 300 pages. "Nobody’s reading that in a week and coming up with questions, and there is stuff buried in there," she says. "AI can come up with a list of questions about things that you might be worried about and then you can talk to someone about those. Maybe it’ll come up with a hundred questions, ten of which are very pertinent and three of those you may not have asked. That’s valuable." She recommends clients adhere to the philosophy of "trust but verify"—specifically, with an agent—when it comes to AI. After all, like that one Redditor said, is such an expensive purchase the kind of thing you’d really want to leave up to a computer?

Ask a Realtor: I’m a First-Time Homebuyer. Should I Even Bother?

The Reason This Spanish Architect Got Into Prefab Has Nothing to Do With Speed or Budget

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Thu, 8 Oct 2026 14:56:42 -0700

The first factory-built home by Eduardo Mediero of Madrid firm Hanghar is an experiment in something he feels is much more valuable to a client.

Welcome to Prefab Profiles, an ongoing series of interviews with people transforming how we build houses. From prefab tiny houses and modular cabin kits to entire homes ready to ship, their projects represent some of the best ideas in the industry. Do you know a prefab brand that should be on our radar? Get in touch!

Hanghar may be the only architecture practice with an expiration date. The Madrid practice is part of the OWN Foundation, a nonprofit that wants to decommodify architecture and the built environment through alternative modes of firm ownership. At least in theory, by ceasing operations at a set time—in this case, in 2030—Hanghar isn’t beholden to the pressures of growth since it can’t be sold or passed on, no matter the value of the work it produces.

But until then, Hanghar, which works across architecture, interiors, furniture, housing, and urban projects, is exploring new ways to create buildings, from financing and design through production. Prefabricated methods felt like a natural fit. "For us, industrialization is not an aesthetic style or a catalogue of houses; it is a way of reconsidering the relationship between design, construction, time, cost and quality," says Hanghar founder Eduardo Mediero.

Here, we speak with Mediero about the firm’s first prefabricated house, Casa Guadalupe, and what else is on the docket for his ephemeral practice.

Casa Guadalupe is a 1,290-square-foot prefabricated home designed by architecture firm Hanghar for a couple living in Gijón, Spain.

Photo: Rory Gardiner

How did you get started doing prefab?

Casa Guadalupe was our first fully industrialized house, and it came out of a very simple question: Could we make the construction process more precise without making the architecture more generic?

We were interested in the potential of moving as much of the construction process as possible away from the building site and into a controlled workshop environment. Conventional construction often involves a large amount of uncertainty: weather, coordination between trades, variable workmanship and decisions being made progressively on-site. Prefabrication allowed us to reverse that relationship. We could resolve the building much further in advance, manufacture it under controlled conditions, and then bring a largely finished system to the site.

Casa Guadalupe became a kind of full-scale experiment in that approach. The house was completely fabricated in a workshop, transported to Gijón and assembled on-site.

The entire house was fabricated in a factory.

Photo: Rory Gardiner

It was assembled on-site in 48 hours.

Photo: Rory Gardiner

See the full story on Dwell.com: The Reason This Spanish Architect Got Into Prefab Has Nothing to Do With Speed or Budget

£32 Gets You Aboard This Floating Wood-Fired Sauna in London

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Thu, 8 Oct 2026 11:56:39 -0700

Soak bills itself as an off-grid wellness space with a steam room, cold plunges, showers, and a café and bar area.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: London, United Kingdom

Designer: Badweather

Footprint: 500 square feet

Photographer: Kaye Song / @kaye.song

From the Designer: "Soak is a traveling bathhouse designed by architecture studio Badweather, set within a restored 56-foot-wide beam canal boat. Operating entirely off-grid, it combines sauna and cold plunge facilities into a floating wellness space that moves through London’s historic waterway network, mooring in a new location every two weeks. Part bathhouse, part piece of floating architecture, Soak explores what communal wellness infrastructure can be when it is freed from fixed foundations and instead designed for mobility, adaptability, and a deep connection to water. The project was cofounded by childhood best friends Riccardo Codacci-Pisanelli, a chef and former restaurateur, and Leo Sixsmith, cofounder of Badweather.

"Codacci-Pisanelli and Sixsmith came to communal bathing following periods of grief and personal recalibration. What began as a collective practice of gathering and resting among friends gradually became the basis for Soak: a social wellness space combining the therapeutic rituals of sauna culture with a resolved architectural sensibility and elevated hospitality experience.

"The boat was acquired in May 2025 in near-derelict condition. Rotten floors, extensive water damage and a hull requiring complete restoration meant the project began with a full strip-out before a deep restoration and recoating of the steel hull. From there, a team of around 40 collaborators led by Sixsmith and Codacci-Pisanelli, including plumbers, electricians, fabricators, carpenters, and battery specialists, undertook its transformation. The sleek interior touches on Badweather’s typical approach: utilitarian and industrial components—threaded rod, T-brackets and chrome-plated copper plumbing—make up details with sculptural precision. The aesthetic resists preciousness while being highly resolved.

"Soak is structured for up to 12 people, combining a sauna, two cold plunge pools, showers, changing space, and a small bar. Given the constraints of the steel hull, with its internal struts dictating where walls, windows, and openings could fall, the interior layout resolved itself into a single linear sequence. Guests move from a warm, low-lit entry space set with dark stained marine plywood into a bright, airy cold plunge and shower room before arriving at the sauna itself.

"Within the sauna, custom aluminum-framed floating benches are suspended within the tapered hull. The benches hover above the floor, echoing the feeling of floating on water. The sauna is lined in thermally treated aspen and alder, selected for their durability under heat and humidity as much as for their tone and grain. Across the boat, enlarged portholes rework original 11-inch apertures into 18- and 32-inch openings. Soak’s four colors—fire red, cold blue, lavender, and earth brown—correspond to an element of the bathing experience and also act as navigational marker. At the bow, a former steel door has been replaced with a picture window aperture that pulls daylight deep into the interior, shifting the perception of scale of the narrow hull.

"Soak operates without connection to water, electricity, or sewage infrastructure. Canal water is drawn in and passed through six stages of filtration and UV treatment before being stored in a fabricated bow tank. A reverse osmosis system produces drinking water, later re-mineralized with calcium, magnesium, and potassium, supplying both guests and the on-board café offering. Electricity is generated via solar panels, while heat is provided by a woodfired stove and supported by a custom battery stack housed within the vessel. Together, the systems allow the project to operate as a self-sufficient floating environment."

Photo by Kaye Song

See the full story on Dwell.com: £32 Gets You Aboard This Floating Wood-Fired Sauna in London

In North Vancouver, a Never-Before-Seen Fred Hollingsworth Midcentury Just Listed for $1.8M

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Thu, 8 Oct 2026 10:56:26 -0700

Built in 1952, the mahogany-wrapped home has been held by the same family for five decades, and it hasn’t been photographed or published before now.

Location: 4065 Sunset Boulevard, North Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

Price: $2,599,000 CAD (approximately $1,822,964 USD)

Year Built: 1952

Footprint: 1,990 square feet (4 beds, 2 baths)

Lot Size: 0.34 acres

From the Listing: "Fred Hollingsworth, one of the defining architects of West Coast modernism, designed Mahogany House within Sunset Gardens, a 46-home neighborhood he master-planned himself—yet broke from his own plan for this one client. Frank Paxton, who ran a large millwork business in North Vancouver, commissioned an unusual material for the house’s cladding: mahogany boat plywood, with matching veneer paneling carried through the interior. It is one of the architect’s most complete material stories, inside and out. A cedar tree that once grew where the dining room now stands was left in place—the architect opened the roof around it, rather than cutting it down. Clerestory windows pour light into the main living space even on overcast days, and the front door, hidden from the street, can only be found by those who already know where they’re going. Held by one family since 1970, Mahogany House has never been photographed or written about publicly."

The entire home is clad in mahogany boat plywood.

Photo by Jenn Xu

Floor-to-ceiling glass doors connect the living area to the backyard.

Photo by Jenn Xu

A white concrete fireplace anchors the living room.

Photo by Jenn Xu

See the full story on Dwell.com: In North Vancouver, a Never-Before-Seen Fred Hollingsworth Midcentury Just Listed for $1.8M
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Deaths, Disclosures, and Discounts: How Dark Histories Impact Home Sales

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Thu, 8 Oct 2026 07:56:28 -0700

When a "stigmatized property" hits the market, it doesn’t always come with a reduced asking price—or even notice of its tragic backstory.

The day Andy Gibbs and his wife closed escrow on a house near Tucson, Arizona, in 2018, his realtor walked through the home with a handful of smoldering sage, telling the deceased previous owner—who had recently died by suicide in the kitchen—that he could now leave.

"We had a limited budget, and with little housing inventory—at Christmastime—our options were limited," he explains. "We looked for a house with good bones in a good neighborhood. Despite the death disclosure—likely the reason the price was low—we put an offer on that house."

Gibbs ultimately remodeled the entire home room by room, including replacing all the flooring. He sold the property in April, but opted not to disclose the death to the new buyers. Under Arizona law, they were not required to do so unless the buyer specifically asked about this aspect of the house’s history. "We never received that request," he says.

Gibbs’s former home is what’s known as a "stigmatized property," which, according to Dr. Randall Bell, principal and CEO of Landmark Research Group, an advisory firm specializing in real estate damage economics, refers to "any site where there was a horrible tragedy—whether it be an old war site, crime scene, rape or murder, suicide, or any kind of negative event in human history." Nicknamed the "Master of Disaster" because he appraises damage at the sites of traumatic events and crime scenes, Bell has assessed notable houses with dark histories, including the sites of infamous 1990s crimes like Nicole Brown Simpson’s former Brentwood condo, the JonBenét Ramsey house in Boulder, Colorado, and the Mediterranean-style mansion near San Diego where 39 members of the Heaven’s Gate cult died by suicide (all of which sold at discounted prices and/or sat on the market for years without a buyer).

Two years after 6-year-old JonBenét Ramsey was found killed in her family’s Colorado Tudor in 1996, the Ramsey family sold the five-bedroom house to an investor group for $650,000 ($150,000 more than they bought it for in 1991). The street address was changed in 2001 and a large fence and tall trees were added to discourage looky-loos. The current owners purchased the property for $1.05 million in 2004 and have tried to list it for sale on and off since 2008 to no avail.

Photo by Doug Pensinger/Getty Images

In the field of real estate damage economics, stigmatized properties are considered a gamble. "It’s the risk that a buyer takes on, given the property’s reputation and notoriety in the marketplace, and any potential negative connotations toward that property," Bell explains, though he adds that "generally speaking, stigma tends to dissipate over time with many properties." So while historic, allegedly haunted homes may retain their value—for example, the Lizzie Borden house (the site of a notorious 1890s unsolved double murder in Massachusetts) sold for $2 million in 2021 and has operated as a house museum and B&B for decades, and the real-life Rhode Island farmhouse that inspired The Conjuring went for $1.5 million, $300,000 over the asking price, in 2022—houses with more recent morbid pasts are a different story.

Assessing a stigmatized property

With any stigmatized property, Bell considers three elements: "cost," which is typically the repair or remediation cost, "use," which is often computed as the rental rate of the property while the occupants are evacuated or the property is not conventionally usable, and "risk" or stigma—"often computed by comparable situations or case studies in the neighborhood, around the country or even internationally," he explains. Some properties are more stigmatized than others. "Crimes against children would be at the top of the list," Bell says. "Then crimes against women or the elderly, and then murder." Suicides affect property values the least, he notes.

There isn’t a federal law requiring realtors to disclose whether a death or crime took place in a house; this is regulated on the state level, and most states don’t have legislation in place. "It’s caveat emptor—‘let the buyer beware,’" Bell says. One exception is California, where realtors and sellers are required to disclose any death that occurred on the property within the last three years. Other states require the listing agent to inform potential buyers of any known murders or suicides within the last 12 months (South Dakota) or three years (Alaska). Because of the inconsistency of states’ laws, Bell recommends that potential buyers ask the realtor about the house’s past directly. "The one thing that one hundred percent no broker or realtor or agent has is the right to lie," he explains. "If you ask, they have to tell you the truth." There are also dedicated websites like DiedInHouse.com and HouseCreep.com where users can pay a fee to conduct a search for an address to see if any deaths or crimes have taken place there.

Stigmatized properties sometimes garner attention that new owners will have to deal with. The buyers of the Brentwood, California, condo where Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman were killed in 1994 (pictured above at the center of a media frenzy the day after the murders) sold for a reduced price two years later, with the new owners reportedly changing its shrubbery and address.

Photo by David Ryder/Getty Images

The price is right

When people buy stigmatized properties, Bell says that it’s usually—though not always—for economic reasons. "Sometimes the market is really tight, and it’s what’s available," he notes. That said, according to a 2025 poll from market research and data analytics firm YouGov, just 26 percent of American adults would be willing to purchase a house where the previous owners had been murdered. Stigmatized properties can have a similar effect outside the U.S. "The buyers who actually move forward are usually either completely unfazed by the history or very value-conscious," says Robin Edwards, a property buying agent at Cureton Property Finders in London. "A tragic history does not automatically mean a huge discount, but it can definitely narrow the buyer pool and sometimes that can give interested buyers more leverage."

While price drops on homes where notable or recent deaths occurred typically range from 10 to 25 percent, Bell says he’s also seen homicides that had no effect on a property’s value, this tending to be the case more often in urban areas with lower-income demographics. That’s likely not a mark of certain buyers’ comfortability; with more financial constraints and fewer options in squeezed markets, there’s a lot less room to be picky about your home’s history.

Pricier locales also aren’t immune to decreases in property value. When Marisa Vallbona and her family moved into their La Jolla, California, home in 2001, word on the street—at least amongst the kids in the neighborhood—was that it was haunted. But the house’s reputation didn’t come as a surprise to her: she already knew that the previous owner had died by suicide on the property. "The savings were substantial, so hearing that didn’t bother us at all," Vallbona explains. "We loved the home because it was the perfect size for us, located in an ideal community with gorgeous views, and had an expansive lot."

The off-campus house in Moscow, Idaho, where four University of Idaho students were murdered in November 2022 was demolished the following year.

Photo by David Ryder/Getty Images

See the full story on Dwell.com: Deaths, Disclosures, and Discounts: How Dark Histories Impact Home Sales

This Country Home in Australia Almost Burned Down Before It Was Even Completed

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Wed, 7 Oct 2026 15:56:40 -0700

A team stepped in to save the residence from a wildfire, which was designed with concrete and a corrugated-metal roof to ward of flames.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Thornton, Victoria, Australia

Architect: JAK Architecture / @jak_architecture

Builder: Hedger Constructions

Photographer: Tasha Tylee / @tashatylee

From the Architect: "Cathedral House is a new residential build in Thornton, Victoria, sited on a rural hillside property overlooking the Cathedral Ranges. The project was designed as a weekend retreat for a family seeking easy, low-maintenance living with a strong connection to the surrounding landscape—a place made for entertaining, for relaxing, and for being fully present in the surroundings.

"The building is composed of two forms arranged in an L around a central courtyard and sheltered timber deck under a corrugated gabled roof. External materials include vertical timber cladding and board-formed concrete, with the concrete end walls punctuated by a circular window that forms the primary gesture on approach. Materials were selected for their resilience as much as their aesthetic qualities. The project is located within a fire-prone region, and during construction bushfires came within a few hundred meters of the house, saved by the efforts of fire crews and locals. The building is nestled into the earth, with introduced native planting kept minimal—low maintenance and carefully chosen to soften the house into the landscape rather than impose upon it.

"The house is set into the hillside, with the northern edge buried into the rock face and the land falling away to the south toward the Cathedral Ranges and the open valley below. On the northern side, the pool and outdoor entertaining terrace sit in a protected, sun-drenched enclosure, sheltered from the elements by the rising rock face behind. The southern facade opens completely in the opposite direction—full-height sliding glazing framing the Cathedral Ranges on the horizon, drawing in light and cross ventilation, and dissolving the boundary between inside and out. This is a home designed to be lived in and through the environment rather than simply beside it.

"Every room has a deliberate and distinct relationship with the landscape. The main living areas look south over the valley and ranges. Bedrooms face west into the close intimacy of the eucalypt bushland. In the primary en suite, the circular window becomes something more intimate still—the Cathedral Ranges framed from within the shower, reflected and refracted through reeded glass, the landscape folded into even the most private moments of the day.

"Throughout, the architecture prioritizes the landscape over the interior. The material palette—polished plaster, pale timber joinery, board-formed concrete, stone countertops whose veining echoes the exposed rock of the surrounding hills, and terrazzo—is chosen to recede rather than compete. This restraint carries through to the interiors, where natural fibers, linens, wools, leather, and timber ground every surface and furnishing in the tactile qualities of the natural world. The color palette is drawn entirely from the bushland beyond—the bleached gold of dry grasses, the cool gray of exposed rock, the deep greens of eucalypt scrub, the warm ochres of bare earth—so that inside and outside feel not like separate worlds, but a single continuous one. Furniture pieces from the owner's own furniture company are placed throughout, sitting within the spaces with an ease that speaks to a deep understanding of how objects and architecture sit together."

Photo by Tasha Tylee

See the full story on Dwell.com: This Country Home in Australia Almost Burned Down Before It Was Even Completed
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You Might Recognize the Site of This $15M Big Bear Estate From the ’80s Classic "WarGames"

noreply@blogger.com (GRAPHĒ) — Tue, 6 Oct 2026 14:56:14 -0700

The storied setting has been reimagined as a sophisticated contemporary retreat while preserving its privacy and sense of place.

39224 Waterview Drive in Big Bear Lake, California, is currently listed at $15,000,000 by Neyshia Go at Sotheby’s International Realty - Beverly Hills Brokerage.

Sited on over 1.5 acres of premier lakefront frontage, the Waterview Estate on Big Bear Lake, designed by Framework Design + Build with exterior architecture by award-winning firm The Ranch Mine, presents one of the most striking examples of bespoke architecture in the region.

Gracing Boulder Bay and Metcalf Bay, the estate offers more than 10,000 square feet, including a seven-bedroom residence spanning over 7,000 square feet. Two wings connect through a dramatic central atrium and courtyard, where floor-to-ceiling glass frames a suspended fireplace and creates an uninterrupted sightline through the residence to the lake.

Sustainably sourced timber, natural stone, and brick tile connect the architecture to its mountain setting. European white oak envelops the kitchen, featuring Wolf and Sub-Zero appliances, two Ceppo Rosso marble islands, and an EarthStone wood-fired pizza oven detailed in hand painted aged brass.

Dual stairways lead to an entertainment level with a full wet bar, wine and beverage refrigeration, aged brass island, and great room anchored by panoramic lake views and a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace—one of five throughout the home. Expansive patios, a covered pavilion, and central courtyard extend the living spaces outdoors with integrated audio, exterior dining, a gas fire pit, and custom cedar soaking tub.

Two primary suites offer private terraces, fireplaces and spa like baths finished in Grey Beauty marble and Taj Mahal quartzite with Studio Ore fixtures.

Additional guest suites feature forest, courtyard, and lake views, including a floating lakefront balcony and fieldstone wood-burning fireplace. A cedar sauna with WiFi enabled HUUM heater, recreation room, and flexible home office complete the home’s wellness and entertainment spaces.

Exceptionally private and gated grounds feature mature aspens, native cedars and pines, sculptural landscaping, more than 40 hand-selected monumental boulders, and a native stone gabion fence. Over 80 landscape lights, zoned irrigation, and exterior speakers enhance the outdoor experience.

The property carries a remarkable history. With roots in Big Bear’s mining era, it later became a celebrated filming location, most notably serving as Dr. Stephen Falken’s iconic lakeside home in the three-time Academy Award nominated 1983 film WarGames.

Advanced infrastructure includes a fully heated driveway, WiFi 7 Ubiquiti UniFi network, smartphone controlled digital energy management, 4K AI powered surveillance, integrated gate control, and more than 12 zones of multi-room audio. Two garages include a climate controlled "toy garage" designed for a boat, jet skis, an Airstream, recreational vehicles, or automotive collection.

Listing Details

Bedrooms: 7

Baths: 7 full, 2 partial

Year Built: 2026

Square feet: 7,167

Plot Size: 1.63 acres

Courtesy of Sotheby's International Realty - Beverly Hills Brokerage

See the full story on Dwell.com: You Might Recognize the Site of This $15M Big Bear Estate From the ’80s Classic "WarGames"