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August 22, 2025 | DESIGN & INTERIORS

KIM LAMBERT

‘LIGHT and SHADOW SHAPE the ATMOSPHERE’

words Onur Basturk

photos Lauren Miller

production Karine Monié

Curious about the story behind every space, Toronto interior designer Kim Lambert brings a refined yet soulful sensibility to her work. With over 20 years of experience spanning global luxury and boutique hospitality, she has built a practice rooted in narrative, collaboration, and quiet sophistication. In this conversation, she shares the vision behind her transformation of a family home in Hoggs Hollow—where architecture, atmosphere, and intimacy come together in balance.

 

What was your first impression of the house when you encountered it for the first time? How did you read its potential?

The house felt dated, with a layout that lacked fluidity. A partition between the formal dining room and the great room created a visual and spatial disconnect, blocking light from reaching the front of this generously scaled home. But the bones were there. The light, though subdued, hinted at softness, and the view of the ravine had a quiet beauty. I saw an opportunity to open things up—both literally and atmospherically—to bring lightness, cohesion, and a renewed sense of presence to the interiors.

 

The home’s natural setting—tucked along a quiet riverbend in Hoggs Hollow, surrounded by mature trees—has a strong presence. How did this landscape influence your design approach?

 

The home sits on the riverbend in Hoggs Hollow, nestled deep within a leafy enclave. Though very much in the city, it feels removed—an escape from the urban pace. That duality guided the tone of the interiors: grounded and composed, yet layered with warmth and intimacy. I wanted the design to feel attuned to the landscape—with natural materials, nuanced textures, and a quiet palette that would allow the views and light to speak.

I LOVE WORKING WITH CONTRAST —NOT JUST VISUALLY, BUT EMOTIONALLY 

You mentioned that the brief called for “an entirely new narrative.” What were the core elements of that narrative for you?

 

The intention was to rewrite the home’s story through a lens of refined contrast—where classical proportions meet a modern edge, and elegance finds depth through restraint. I was drawn to architectural periods where quietude and ornament existed in delicate balance, where clarity of form was softened by nuance. The resulting narrative is grounded in a kind of quiet tension: rustic materiality elevated by considered detailing, and the beauty of imperfection held in graceful dialogue with structure. Wabi-sabi sensibilities converge with classical cues, allowing textures to remain raw yet deliberate, and forms to stay sculpted and spare. A restrained palette—hot-rolled steel, cast plaster, dark-stained oak, bleached walnut, antique smoked mirror—unfolds through tactile contrast, softened by velvet, leather, and woven textures. What emerges is a home layered with texture and intention—timeless, grounded, and expressive, where each room reveals a quiet tension shaped by material richness and sculptural restraint.

 

There’s a striking balance throughout the home between softness and structure, rustic textures and refined materials. How do you navigate this kind of contrast to create harmony?

 

For me, harmony is about creating space for contrasts to complement rather than compete. Where there’s structure, I soften; where there’s texture, I refine. It’s a careful dialogue—materials playing off one another, allowing individual notes to shine without overwhelming the whole. The balance comes through restraint and rhythm, and through trusting the integrity of each material.

 

Your use of tone and material often plays with light and shadow in a very intentional way. How did you explore that dynamic in this project?

 

I love working with contrast—not just visually, but emotionally. Light and shadow give shape to the architecture and atmosphere to the interiors. Here, I used tone and material to deepen that interplay—matte against gloss, textured against smooth—so that even quiet moments have presence. The result is a layered experience of space, where subtle shifts in light become part of the design language.

 

You’ve said that you wanted to evoke the atmosphere of a private hotel—inviting yet composed. What does it take to create that sense of calm and quiet luxury in a family home?

 

Materiality and ambiance are at the core. But this is also a family home for six—four energetic young boys and their parents—so it had to hold both sophistication and livability. We wanted to create something elevated but unpretentious, where laughter and play could unfold within a backdrop of refinement. It’s about soft transitions, durable yet beautiful materials, and spaces that feel tailored without ever feeling precious. A careful balance of elegance and function.

A THREAD OF CONTINUITY, RESTRAINT, AND RHYTHM 

 

Each room has its own character, yet there’s a quiet, poetic consistency that ties the spaces together. How would you describe that through-line in emotional or spatial terms?

There’s a thread that runs through it all—one of continuity, restraint, and rhythm. The palette is grounded and tonal, the materials natural and nuanced. Each space tells its own story, but there’s a shared language that binds them together: a sense of flow, a lightness in form, and a calm that allows the home to breathe as one.

 

The lighting you chose—Apparatus, Lee Broom, Anastassiades—feels sculptural and atmospheric. Do you approach lighting as an object or as a mood?

 

Both. Lighting is where form and feeling intersect. I see it as sculpture, but also as emotion. It anchors a room, defines its tone, and shifts its mood throughout the day. The fixtures we chose are quiet statements—each one considered for how it holds space, casts shadow, and elevates the architecture around it

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