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September 5, 2026 | Art & Culture INDIA MANY INDIAS, ONE EXHIBITION words Onur Baştürk photos Francisco Nogueira At the Palace of the Dukes of Cadaval in Évora, INDIA brings together contemporary Indian art with tribal and vernacular practices, tracing the many languages, traditions and contradictions that shape artistic life across the subcontinent today. On view until 25 October, INDIA brings together around fifteen artists from different regions and artistic contexts across the subcontinent. Contemporary practices appear alongside tribal and vernacular traditions, challenging the distinctions that have long separated these forms of expression and placing them within the same contemporary conversation. DIFFERENT WORLDS, SIDE BY SIDE The exhibition also draws on the long relationship between Portugal and India. More than five centuries of maritime routes, cultural exchange and mutual influence provide a historical backdrop, but INDIA is firmly concerned with the present. Rather than looking at the country through an exotic or purely historical lens, it considers how artistic practices rooted in very different cultural traditions continue to evolve and intersect today. At the heart of the exhibition is this coexistence of different worlds. Artists educated in India’s metropolitan art schools are shown alongside artists from tribal communities whose practices remain closely connected to ritual and inherited traditions. Curator Hervé Perdriolle approaches their relationship through the idea of “fertilisation”: not as opposing languages, but as practices that have continually informed one another. The range is deliberately broad. The animist-rooted paintings of Jangarh Singh Shyam and Jivya Soma Mashe sit alongside Parag Sonarghare’s hyperrealist portraits and tantric paintings in which abstraction meets spirituality. Tradition and experimentation, ritual and contemporary life, spirituality and social observation all occupy the same exhibition. A PARALLEL UNIVERSE TO THE REST OF THE WORLD For Alexandra de Cadaval, who oversees cultural affairs at the Palace and is also one of its owners, INDIA carries a deeply personal dimension. Her relationship with India spans more than two decades, shaped by repeated journeys through its urban and rural landscapes and by her work as co-director of the World Sacred Spirit Festival in Nagaur and Jodhpur. “It was thanks to Alain Weber that I first discovered the world of Indian arts, initially through music, and gradually through the visual arts, opening for me a lifelong journey into the immense cultural richness of the subcontinent. India has always felt to me like a parallel universe to the rest of the world, where ancient traditions and extreme modernity meet with remarkable intensity. After Portugal, it is the country that has most profoundly marked me.” That experience also explains the exhibition’s resistance to any single image of India. Alexandra de Cadaval describes a country of profound contrasts, where social inequality and complexity exist alongside extraordinary creativity, humanity and spiritual depth. Rather than attempting to define India, the exhibition leaves room for these contradictions to remain visible. BEYOND WESTERN NARRATIVES INDIA also continues a direction the Cadaval Palace has pursued since 2018, bringing contemporary art into conversation with vernacular, rural and tribal practices. The Palace is conceived here not simply as an exhibition space, but as a place where artistic traditions and geographies that are often kept apart can meet. Hervé Perdriolle has spent decades working precisely within this territory. A critic, collector and curator, he lived in India during the 1990s and has long researched practices that developed outside academic systems and dominant Western narratives. His curatorial position rests on the understanding that contemporary art is not exclusively Western, but emerges independently across many different cultural contexts. The collaboration between Perdriolle and Alexandra de Cadaval had been taking shape for years. As de Cadaval recalls: “I first met Hervé Perdriolle seven years ago, and from the beginning, we shared the dream of creating an exhibition together in Évora. I would also like to warmly thank Maximiliano Modesti, whose enthusiasm, encouragement and support helped make this project a reality.” TWENTY-FIVE YEARS WITH INDIA For the Palace, the exhibition also marks another chapter in a relationship with India that reaches well beyond the visual arts. De Cadaval adds: “Over the past twenty-five years, the Palacio Cadaval has maintained a close relationship with India through music, performance and artistic exchange. To present India today as a central focus of our programme, on the eve of Évora’s year as European Capital of Culture, carries special meaning for us.”

YUZU Magazine is an independent publication exploring architecture, interiors, design, travel, art and contemporary culture from around the world. CURRENT ISSUE VOL-19 BUY NOW HIGHLIGHTS CALIFORNIA QUIET VERMELHO BIRIBINHAS HOUSE OPENSPACE GIORGOS SAMOILIS LE SIRENUSE MARE ART & CULTURE INDIA MANY INDIAS, ONE EXHIBITION DESIGN & INTERIORS LAND, MEMORY, HOME ART & CULTURE GIUSEPPE LO SCHIAVO SUSPICIOUS REALITY DESIGN & INTERIORS TWO WAYS OF LIVING AT THE OWO TRAVEL A PRIVATE WORLD ON THE PACIFIC DESIGN & INTERIORS TEKOÁ HOUSE TRAVEL A STOCKHOLM LANDMARK THROUGH A BARCELONA LENS ART & CULTURE SIMON FUJIWARA THE ARCHITECTURE OF EXPERIENCE TRAVEL ORIENT EXPRESS VENEZIA TRAVEL PEOPLE COME TO HYDRA NOT ONLY FOR FOOD BUT FOR A FEELING TRAVEL A MINIMALIST PAUSE IN TIME DESIGN & INTERIORS BRUTALIST LIVING IN MALLORCA More Content DESIGN & INTERIORS See More YUZU FILM See More TRAVEL See More WHERE YOU CAN FIND US EUROPE FRANCE: Paris UK: London SPAIN: Barcelona, Madrid, Bilbao. PORTUGAL: Lisbon, Porto. BELGIUM: Antwerp, Brussels, Gent, Zaventem. GERMANY: Berlin. TURKIYE: -Istanbul All Minoa Bookstores (Akaretler, Nişantaşı, Beyoğlu Tepebaşı, Maslak, Bağdat Caddesi, Etiler) Bey Karaköy Petra Gayrettepe -Bodrum Gibi Bodrum US CA / Los Angeles, San Diego, San Jose, Sacramento, Roseville. NY / New York, New Hartford. FL / Miami, Orlando, Jacksonville, Fort Myers, Fort Lauderdale. GA / Atlanta, AZ / Phoenix, WA / Seattle CANADA Toronto, Vancouver, Montreal. O nline Shop and Subscription YUZU SHOP CURRENT ISSUE VOL-19 BUY NOW

Explore contemporary art, exhibitions, artists and cultural stories from around the world through YUZU Magazine’s distinctive editorial perspective. ART & CULTURE INDIA MANY INDIAS, ONE EXHIBITION GIUSEPPE LO SCHIAVO SUSPICIOUS REALITY SIMON FUJIWARA THE ARCHITECTURE OF EXPERIENCE ALINE BOUVY AMUSEMENT AS METHOD PETER BUGGENHOUT HAUSER & WIRTH MENORCA THE STORIES CLAY CARRIES NOMAD HAMPTONS: HIGHLIGHTS AN ART FAIR SHAPED BY THE ISLAND CAN IBIZA 2026 BIG SEE AND THE RIGHT AMOUNT GOKHAN TANRIOVER WAITING TO BE A FLOWER UNDERNEATH THE FIG TREE BEAUTY as PROTEST in VENICE ART PARIS’S RETURN TO THE GRAND PALAIS: MEASURED YET AMBITIOUS SCULPTURES that RESEMBLE FURNITURE ART PARIS 2026: LANGUAGE, REPARATION, DESIGN THE WORLD RISES THROUGH PLEASURE DIRIYAH CONTEMPORARY ART BIENNALE 2026 DEREK PEDROS GRACE: BEAUTY WITHOUT A FRAME HÉLOÏSE PIRAUD Show More

July 18, 2026 | Art & Culture NOMAD HAMPTONS: HIGHLIGHTS installation photos Ivan Erofeev (Courtesy of NOMAD) Rather than occupying conventional fair halls, NOMAD has built its reputation as a travelling micro-fair staged inside historic villas, landmark hotels and culturally significant buildings—making architecture as central to the experience as the works themselves. Following editions in St. Moritz, Monaco, Venice, Capri and Abu Dhabi, it made its U.S. debut this summer at The Watermill Center in the Hamptons (25–28 June 2026). Founded in 1992 by theatre director and artist Robert Wilson, The Watermill Center is recognised as a unique space where architecture, landscape and artistic experimentation converge. Over four days, galleries, gardens and open-air installations became one continuous exhibition, dissolving the boundaries between art, design and landscape. 1- Gio Ponti × Robert Wilson: Correspondence Among the fair's most thoughtful exhibitions, Correspondence explored the creative dialogue between Gio Ponti and Robert Wilson through drawings, ceramics, archival materials and collectible design, revealing unexpected parallels between two visionary figures. 2- Fields of Vision by Rachel Hayes, presented by Giorgio Armani Installed across the South Lawn, Rachel Hayes' large-scale textile intervention invited visitors to sit, picnic and inhabit the artwork itself. Rather than functioning as a sculpture to observe, it became a landscape to experience. 3- The Oman Collection by Gaetano Pesce Among the highlights was Gaetano Pesce's final exploration of material and nature. Presented by Kalei NYC in collaboration with the Gaetano Pesce Estate, The Oman Collection brought together the Oman Chair and the monumental Oman Throne—a tribute to Oman's frankincense tree translated into Pesce's unmistakable sculptural language. 4- Gallery FUMI As always, London's Gallery FUMI delivered one of NOMAD's most refined presentations, bringing together works by Max Lamb, Charlotte Kingsnorth, Rowan Mersh and Jeremy Anderson, among others. Throughout the exhibition, craftsmanship and material experimentation remained in constant dialogue. 5- Lola Montes – Flower Flame, presented by Ashlee Harrison Presented by New York-based Ashlee Harrison, Flower Flame introduced another contemporary voice to NOMAD Hamptons' multidisciplinary programme, adding to the fair's dialogue between art, design and material experimentation. 6- Botanical Series by Sydney Albertini, presented by Sisley Paris Sydney Albertini's imagined botanical landscapes brought colour and spontaneity to The Watermill Center, blurring the line between memory, travel and fantasy. Presented by Sisley Paris, the installation became one of the fair's most uplifting moments. 7- Sorgin Gallery Where Light Becomes Form explored Brazilian modernism through works by Joaquim Tenreiro, Jorge Zalszupin, Hugo França, Rodrigo Simão and jewellery by Charo Casteres, placing landscape, light and materiality at the centre of the conversation. 8- UNNO Gallery & K'AB JUUN Mexico City and New York-based UNNO Gallery & K'AB JUUN presented Entre Orígenes, an exhibition exploring how traditional craftsmanship continues to evolve through contemporary design. Bringing together works by designers and artists from across Latin America, the presentation celebrated material knowledge, cultural memory and the enduring dialogue between heritage and innovation. 9- Collectors Lounge by Jessica Gersten Design More than a VIP lounge, Jessica Gersten's installation became one of the social centres of NOMAD. Layering collectible furniture, artisanal materials and works by Maison Gerard, John Salibello, Espasso and Nader Gammas, it reflected the fair's domestic rather than institutional spirit. 10- The Future Perfect The Future Perfect once again demonstrated why it remains one of the leading voices in contemporary collectible design. Works by Chen Chen & Kai Williams and John Hogan explored material innovation through sculptural furniture, glass and functional objects. 11- Eric Firestone Gallery One of the fair's strongest gallery presentations paired Almo Talud's vividly coloured paintings with Torben Gammelgaard's expressive ceramic sculptures, creating an engaging dialogue between folklore, humour and identity. 12- GLIF – Altered Heritage by Habif Mimarlık Representing Istanbul, Habif Mimarlık's GLIF project reimagined historical furniture through architectural interventions in marble, brass, leather, stainless steel and wood. A thoughtful exercise in preserving material memory while giving heritage objects an entirely contemporary presence. 13- Maison Gerard Blending French Art Deco with contemporary collectible design, Maison Gerard presented one of the fair's most elegant displays, where historical furniture, lighting and contemporary works shared the same refined visual language. 14- Todd Merrill Studio Presented as a salon-style installation, Todd Merrill Studio brought together contemporary design and fine art through works by Laura Facey, John Procario, Draga & Aurel and others, closing the fair with one of its most accomplished design presentations. 15- J. Lohmann Gallery New York-based J. Lohmann Gallery presented a refined selection of contemporary decorative arts, bringing together works in ceramics, glass and metal by an international roster of artists. The presentation highlighted material innovation while remaining deeply rooted in craftsmanship.

September 5, 2026 | DESIGN & INTERIORS LAND, MEMORY, HOME words Noah Mercer photos Mirto Iatropoulou stylist Anestis Michalis For a family returning to land held for generations, this holiday home in Greece is shaped by memory, material and the rhythms of the surrounding landscape. Out of gallery In the wild landscape of Arcadia, this holiday home begins not with the idea of escape, but of return. The land has belonged to the Haretos family since the Greek War of Independence in 1821, giving the project a history that reaches far beyond the construction of a new house. The architectural design is by Office Twenty Five Architects, while Athens-based studio Stones and Walls, led by co-founder and Design Director Afroditi Bonatsou, developed the interiors around this sense of continuity. Rather than recreating the past, the studio looked for ways in which memory could remain present without becoming nostalgic. “The main inspiration for the interiors was the idea of belonging — belonging to a landscape, to memory, and to a quieter rhythm of life,” Bonatsou says. “We were drawn to materials and tones that feel elemental and lasting, and we wanted the rooms to carry a sense of calm rather than visual noise.” That relationship with the site finds its most literal expression in the family’s original stone cottage. Built with clay mortar, the small ancestral structure was reconstructed in its historical dimensions using the original stones and now serves as a guesthouse. For Bonatsou, negotiating this history was also the project’s central challenge. “It was not simply about constructing a new house; it was about reinterpreting a deeply personal story, connected to the ruins of the owner’s ancestral home,” she says. “Respecting this memory, without resorting to a literal or nostalgic reconstruction, required a high level of architectural sensitivity.” BETWEEN SHELTER AND OPENNESS The main house is organised across two levels, moving between enclosed, more protective spaces and generous communal areas facing the landscape. “This translated into interiors with soft tonal layering, a very tactile material palette, restrained forms, and a strong relationship to natural light and views,” says Bonatsou. “The design is not driven by ornament, but by texture, proportion, atmosphere, and the emotional quality of the spaces.” Throughout the house, smaller architectural moments temper the scale of the open spaces. Built-in window seats create places to pause within the architecture, while a spa terrace with a hot tub is screened by vertical timber slats. Outside, a circular firepit with curved built-in seating creates another place to gather directly within the landscape. Out of gallery STONE, WOOD AND MINERAL TONES Materials carry much of the interior character. Local stone moves from the exterior façades onto selected internal walls, where it meets custom timber joinery, plaster, soft textiles and dark metal details. “We would describe the mood as quiet, grounding, tactile and understatedly luxurious,” Bonatsou says. “To achieve that, we worked with a restrained palette of natural materials, soft textiles, warm woods, textured stone surfaces, and dark metal details that give definition without harshness.” Colour follows the same restraint. Chalky neutrals, mineral greys and taupe plaster tones form the base, punctuated by bronze and black and, occasionally, deeper shades of blue, umber and rust. “The design element that best expresses our point of view is the material layering — especially the relationship between stone, wood, plaster, textile, and dark metal,” says Bonatsou. “That combination allowed us to create interiors that feel restrained but rich, contemporary but not cold.” The furniture follows this measured approach, bringing together pieces from Nitsolas Furniture, Bombyx, Pols Potten, Soho Home, &Tradition, Andreu World and Ferm Living, alongside antiques and bespoke elements. Rugs by Brita, Vanghent, Delphine Cobbaer and Kristina Lassus add another tactile layer, while works by Alexandra Bissa appear against the quieter material backdrop. A CONTINUITY OF PLACE Ultimately, the project is less about creating a holiday house than establishing a place to return to. Designed for shared meals, long stays and different generations of the same family, it returns to Bonatsou’s original idea of belonging — to a landscape, to memory and to a place with a history of its own.

July 29, 2026 | DESIGN & INTERIORS REDESIGNING DINING at the BODRUM EDITION words Onur Baştürk photos İbrahim Özbunar With the redesign of three restaurants at The Bodrum EDITION , Istanbul-based studio URBANJOBS explores how a single hospitality identity can accommodate three distinct culinary cultures—without losing its architectural coherence. The best hospitality interiors rarely compete with the experience. Instead, they quietly shape it. At The Bodrum EDITION, architecture becomes part of the dining experience not through dramatic gestures, but through atmosphere, materiality and a careful sense of place. Rather than approaching the restaurants as independent destinations, the project conceives them as variations on a shared architectural language—one that remains faithful to the understated elegance of EDITION Hotels while allowing each venue to express its own atmosphere, material palette and identity. The result is less a collection of restaurants than a sequence of atmospheres. FRAMING THE LANDSCAPE Kitchen , led by Michelin-starred chef Osman Sezener, takes its cues from the Aegean. The architecture follows the same direction. White stone, pale timber and a generous colonnade opening towards the sea allow the landscape to become part of the interior. An open raw bar extends onto the terrace, softening the boundary between preparation and dining, while marble surfaces reinforce the restrained material palette that defines the space. Calm, tactile and deeply connected to its setting, the restaurant reflects Sezener's cuisine without ever illustrating it. DESIGNING FAMILIARITY The mood shifts at The Trattoria . Created together with Michelin-starred chef Stefano Ciotti, the restaurant draws on the warmth of Italian hospitality through timber-lined surfaces, monochrome family photographs and a courtyard framed by olive trees. Rather than recreating Italy, the design evokes its everyday rituals and quiet familiarity, balancing the relaxed spirit of a neighbourhood trattoria with the refined sensibility of EDITION. BUILDING WITHOUT BUILDING DAHA , developed with Mehmet Akdağ of the renowned restaurant 7 Mehmet, presents an entirely different architectural challenge. With no roof or permanent structure, the project relies on oversized custom-designed floor lamps to establish rhythm, scale and verticality across the open-air dining space. More than lighting elements, they become architectural markers that define the restaurant after sunset while leaving the sky unobstructed. What ultimately connects the three restaurants is not a shared aesthetic, but a shared discipline. Each remains in dialogue with the quiet identity of EDITION, while allowing its chef's culinary philosophy to shape the experience in a distinct way. At a time when hospitality interiors often compete for attention through spectacle, this project takes a more measured approach. Here, architecture doesn't seek attention. It quietly frames the moments that matter.

Explore architecture, interiors and design through distinctive homes, studios and spaces from around the world, selected by YUZU Magazine. DESIGN & INTERIORS LAND, MEMORY, HOME TWO WAYS of LIVING at the OWO TEKOÁ HOUSE BRUTALIST LIVING in MALLORCA a SOFT MODERNIST TOUCH CASA B a WELCOMING LABYRINTH MY HIGHLIGHTS from 3daysofdesign 2026 BIRIBINHAS HOUSE UPWARDS to the MEDITERRANEAN a QUIET CALIFORNIA RHYTHM REDESIGNING DINING at the BODRUM EDITION a SENSE of MEASURE VILLA CLARISSE a FLOATING HOME in the FOREST DESIGNING with SUNSET CALIFORNIA, with a MEDITERRANEAN SOUL the WHITE ARCADE CASA MUXARABI a LOUNGE ABOVE the CITY INSIDE 3daysofdesign 2026 Show More

August 27, 2026 | Art & Culture SIMON FUJIWARA the ARCHITECTURE of EXPERIENCE words Rajesh Punj exhibition photos Andrea Rossetti portrait photos Jörg von Bruchhausen A thought-provoking conversation with Simon Fujiwara on A Whole New World , which recently closed at Mudam Luxembourg, and the questions of identity, reality and experience that continue to shape his practice. “We are, in a sense, our own fictions.” — after Jorge Luis Borges Few artists of his generation have examined the unstable architecture of identity with the wit and conceptual precision of Simon Fujiwara. Across installation, film, sculpture and immersive exhibition environments, the Berlin-based artist has consistently returned to the question of how the self is made: through memory, image, desire, performance and, increasingly, the relentless mechanisms of visibility that define contemporary life. Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once warned that “the greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all.” The observation feels uncannily resonant in relation to Fujiwara’s sense of the real, where the erosion of selfhood is rarely dramatic, but instead staged through systems of projection, circulation and display. His works occupy the fertile space between autobiography and invention, where personal history becomes narrative and narrative assumes the force of truth. In recent years, this inquiry has taken on renewed urgency through projects such as Who the Bær, a seemingly innocent figure that operates as a vessel for projection, ideology, trauma and the circulation of images in a digitally saturated culture. What appears playful is never merely so. Beneath the seduction of the surface lies a more unsettling meditation on the politics of representation, spectatorship and the fictions through which we come to know ourselves. At a moment when identity is increasingly staged, branded and endlessly reproduced, Fujiwara’s work asks whether the self has itself become an exhibition space — a site of perpetual construction and display. A DIFFERENT REALITY RP: You mention a new studio in Mallorca. SF: Yes. It’s an old house with agricultural buildings. It’s not going to be massive, it’s not a huge thing, but it’s also a way to try something else because my work is quite urban in a way. My work is so much about conflict and collage, ideas and worlds that collide and meet and produce new problems. The aesthetic of my work is about that somehow. I’ve always worked in cities, so I’m curious to see what working in a non-urban place is going to be like because, in this village, people don’t even know what’s happening in the Middle East. It’s a completely different reality. RP: That must be an incredible idea — the potential for it to really challenge your work. SF: Let’s see. Because when I think about my work, I realise that I’ve always made it to solve problems for myself, in a way, or to try to engage with problems within my life, or with how to live in this world. All the works are like life rafts in this sea of madness that we’re in. If it’s a question around Anne Frank, or an STD, or a ‘MeToo’ problem, or whatever, I can hold on to that, and it can become a metaphor for all the struggles that I’m experiencing on a daily basis — and I know everybody else is too. Part of that has been using language, because we’re surrounded by so much of it today. There is very little that is unsaid, unmarketed, unbranded, untouched. We’re in this exhausted world where every single thing has already been described. RP: It’s interesting. It’s as if silence has become its own kind of commodity. SF: Absolutely. I like this phrase, “the airless quality of capitalism.” There’s almost no oxygen left in the room, and I’m telling you, in the next ten to twenty years, there will be entrance tickets to cities. There will be ticketing; it’s simply going to happen. There is already something of that in certain parts of historic centres. It feels like the only way to sustain this way of living. So I keep seeing, in the real world, how much it is bending to the logic of theme park worlds. THE LOGIC OF THE THEME PARK RP: Which is extraordinary and unsettling at the same time. SF: Exactly. Architects in the 1980s were already talking about Disneyland as a kind of urban utopia in America, because it was one of the few places where you could simply walk down the street. And what it takes to create that most basic act — walking from a shop to a park to a castle to the next thing — is something we take for granted in Europe. But Europe itself was constructed that way. Kingdoms, gods, kings, land: these are not natural things, they are constructs. In that sense, we already had our own natural Disneys. We’re very snooty now about what theme parks are, but in a way, we live in them, and perhaps always have. RP: So Europe itself becomes a set, a stage. SF: Precisely. And that’s why, when I started studying theme parks, I found them fascinating, because they have such clear parallels with museums. A museum is also a place where you buy a ticket, queue and enter a controlled space for delight, pleasure and sometimes even danger. You are brought into other worlds, but there are rules: you can’t touch paintings, shout or behave however you want. I began asking myself why these sanctuaries are so appealing to us today. We went through that whole 1990s moment of institutional critique, when museums were supposed to be open — no tickets, no boundaries; it was about smell, light and atmosphere. But now we are back to wanting the blockbuster, branded experience. I feel that’s because the world outside has become this kind of chaos, where we know we are being controlled but we’re not told the rules. We know we are in this strange theme park, but we don’t know when we are transgressing, or how much information is being taken from us. It’s very murky. RP: So the museum becomes a place of clarity. SF: Exactly. These places, where the rules are clear, somehow offer comfort. I mean, I’m half Japanese, and people are obsessed with Japan now. Talk about a rule-based society — a place with ancient codes for how to talk, dress, move. In its own way, that too is a kind of theme park. I started asking myself how this could become artistic, how it could become a gesture within art that was interesting. So much of my work is already about entertainment and performativity, so bringing the installations together wasn’t a huge stretch. I simply thought, MUDAM is this extraordinary museum, half shopping mall, half I. M. Pei building, with all the aura of the Louvre architect, so why not use the full logic of a theme park? There are signposts, maps, worlds. Only here, the princess is not a princess, but the beauty queen caught in a 'topless scandal'; the mascot is not Mickey Mouse, but a cartoon bear having an identity crisis. A PLACE TO BELONG RP: They become contemporary myths. SF: Exactly, they map onto one another. And the final thing that really interested me about theme parks is that we are craving shared narratives. Culturally, communally, in this globalised moment, we are all longing for something we can rally around: a story. We can no longer really do that through religion, for obvious reasons. So I’ve also been thinking about what it means to create an experience that is shared rather than fragmented. I don’t expect people to immediately jump on board with syphilis, or whatever I might be speaking about specifically, but the atmosphere of the place can make you feel welcomed. That’s what theme parks do. They let you know where you are; there is always a map that situates you and reassures you that you are in the right place. And I thought, if I can make you feel, at an animal, bodily level, that you belong in this museum and that this is for you, then it creates something like the atmosphere of a church, or a place of gathering. Those are the ingredients, in a way. RP: It’s extraordinary how all of this seems to be shifting at once — the idea of the real, the image, experience itself. SF: Yes, and it’s only about to get weirder. The world is about to become much stranger in terms of how we describe the real and how we experience it. AI is obviously one element of that, but there’s another side as well: people are now openly interested in hallucinogenic drugs, psychedelics, altered states, consciousness. All this language that once felt marginal now seems fully part of contemporary discourse. To me, that’s an acknowledgement that reality is far more complex than we previously understood, and that the technological changes we’re living through are part of that shift. MATERIALS OF TRUTH RP: And beyond questions of reality and identity, I wanted to ask about material — your choice of materials and processes, and how these relate to what you are trying to address. SF: I’ve always tried to use the material that best speaks to what I’m trying to convey, and sometimes the choice is very intrinsic to the idea itself. For example, when I made a version of Anne Frank in wax, working with people from Madame Tussauds, it was because I was interested in that very specific history: the idea that famous people are rendered three-dimensionally in wax because, before photography, it was one of the closest technologies to truth. And when you begin to look into the history of Madame Tussauds, it becomes extraordinary. She was in the palace of Louis XIV, making flowers for Marie Antoinette, so the history of Madame Tussauds is, in a way, part of the history of the modern world itself. During the French Revolution, she was supposed to be killed because she had been in the palace — not exactly the right place to be. But because she had learned from her father how to make realistic wax figures, she saved herself by offering to go to the sites where the aristocracy had been beheaded, take death masks and remake them in wax so that these figures would be remembered. She then took this bag of wax heads to London and opened her apartment on Baker Street with a display of French aristocrats on skewers with blood. That was the first Madame Tussauds. And that is already eighteenth-century England: pleasure gardens, the beginnings of entertainment culture. For me, all of that is fascinating because the history of the modern world can almost be told through wax figures. So when I came to Anne Frank, I knew I needed to make that wax rendering, and I needed it to be made with the people who had worked within Madame Tussauds. In that sense, the collaborators themselves can become part of the material. RP: You have me seeing everything differently.

Artist Giuseppe Lo Schiavo discusses digital craftsmanship, perception, reconstructed realities and the Mediterranean as memory, landscape and border. September 5, 2026 | Art & Culture GIUSEPPE LO SCHIAVO SUSPICIOUS REALITY words Onur Basturk Giuseppe Lo Schiavo works at the edge of the real, where simplification meets excess and perception begins to shift. The Mediterranean, for him, is both memory and landscape. Your images sit between the real and the artificial. Why does that interest you? Honestly, I struggle with the very notion of "artificial." Everything that exists is real, or natural, in its own way. So I'm not sure I see myself as working between two territories; I'd rather say I'm questioning the border itself. What interests me is reality on steroids — a hyperbole of the real, somewhere between simplification and amplification. A piece like Paris in Rosy Retrospection works exactly on that edge. It's a low-poly 3D scan of floral arrangements found discarded on a Parisian street before being moved inside a hotel. The reduction in geometry strips the bouquet down, and at the same time the image amplifies its presence. Simplification and excess at the same time — that's the territory I'm interested in. Your landscapes feel familiar, yet slightly off. What role does this dissonance play? Yes, the dissonance is deliberate. The Windowscapes series is built on hybrids, and that slight off-ness is exactly the point. Our brain isn't used to seeing reality amplified at that level, because amplification is usually something we reserve for memory, not for what's in front of us in the present. So the viewer is caught in a small cognitive short-circuit, looking at something that behaves like a memory but presents itself as a live image. That confusion is part of the attraction. I think of these works as cognitive experiments more than landscapes. You work with AI and digital tools, yet retain strong authorship. How do you define your role? There's a misconception I'd like to address. Most of my work isn't AI-generated; it's built on digital craftsmanship, which is almost the opposite of AI. I model everything in 3D from scratch. I use physics-based simulation software to render wind, sun, clouds — the camera itself. Every element is sculpted by hand in a virtual space, and then a photograph is taken inside that space. A single piece can take months to build. In that sense, my process is closer to a painter's than to someone prompting a model with text. I have full authorial control over the scene and every atmospheric element. AI enters my practice only in specific cases, mostly for complex video animations or code-based experiments, where the medium itself becomes part of the inquiry. I don't curate outputs; I build the world the image comes from. I’M NOT INTERESTED IN AN ACCURATE REALITY, BUT IN IT’S SUREEAL EDGE — A “SUSPICIOUS REALITY” THAT FEELS PLAUSIBLE, YET NEVER QUITE SETTLES Your work often suggests a “reconstructed nature.” Are you representing it, or reimagining it? I reimagine it. I'm not interested in an accurate version of reality; I'm interested in its surreal edge, in what I'd call a suspicious reality — something that looks plausible but doesn't quite let you settle into it. And I'd push back gently on the word "nature" itself. I apply the same logic to other subjects, for instance in Fragments of Reality, where I worked with a 3D scan of a destroyed car coming from a war zone in Ukraine, placing it inside a refined domestic interior. The object carries a weight that doesn't belong to the space it now inhabits — a memory intruding into a setting that wasn't built to hold it. A Windowscape can be a landscape, but it can also be an interior view treated as one. So what I'm really reimagining is perception, more than nature as a category. Your images carry a quiet, almost romantic atmosphere. How do you position yourself in relation to that tradition? I understand the reading, but I'd distance myself from that tradition. The romantic landscape is built around an observer — often a heroic one — projecting meaning onto vastness. In my work, that figure isn't there, and human presence is absent altogether. What's left isn't contemplation; it's emptiness, suspension, waiting. The viewer can sit in a space where nothing is happening yet. MY SCHOOL WAS ON THE BEACH. THE SEA IS, QUITE LITERALLY, MY PLACENTA — I KNOW ITS LIGHT AND THE STORIES IT CARRIES In recent works — including those shown at Art Paris 2026 — the presence of the sea feels particularly strong. What does the Mediterranean represent to you? I was born in Calabria, in what was once Magna Graecia. My school was on the beach. The sea is, quite literally, my placenta. I know its light; I know the stories it has carried across centuries. The Mediterranean has been a recurring subject in my work, most recently in a video installation at Palazzo Vecchio in Florence on the migration routes from North Africa, and in Southern Gateway, a piece commissioned by Bvlgari, where the 3D scan of an ancient sculpture from the Vatican Museum becomes a threshold — a passage between cultures, journeys and time. So for me, the Mediterranean is never just a landscape. It's dream and memory at once, light and border at once. These framed views towards the sea suggest both distance and longing. What sits behind them? The series started during lockdown, when windows became our only way of looking at the world. That period left a mark on the work — the window as a device that connects and separates at the same time, a frame that lets you see but not reach. There's also a more personal layer. My father was a window maker. I don't think I control that influence; it's something I'm unconsciously drawn to, and I've stopped trying to explain it away. So the longing in these images isn't only about the sea — it's about the threshold itself, what it means to look from inside towards something you can't quite touch. What has most shaped your visual language? The most formative influence on my work isn't artistic; it's evolutionary biology. It gave me a kind of detachment from reality — a way of looking at the world more objectively, from a distance that lets me hold two things at once: that everything makes sense, and that nothing really does. That tension is the engine of my visual language. On the visual side, video art and performance have been central. Bill Viola and Studio Azzurro shaped my sense of time, slowness and immersion — the idea that a video, or an image, can be deeply transformative and evocative. Dimitris Papaioannou — an Aegean voice that resonates with the themes of this issue — for the way he composes the body into living tableaux that feel sculptural and cinematic at once, with references to ancient Greek art.

June 6, 2026 | Art & Culture media partner YUZU an ART FAIR SHAPED by the ISLAND CAN IBIZA words Onur Basturk As CAN Art Fair Ibiza returns for its fifth edition this June, the fair continues to shape a different pace for contemporary art in the Mediterranean. Bringing together 30 international exhibitors alongside an expanding OFF Program and CAN Local initiative, CAN increasingly feels less like a conventional fair and more like something embedded within the island itself. YUZU is among this year’s media partners of the fair. We spoke with curator Saša Bogojev about Ibiza’s atmosphere, smaller-scale art experiences, and why the fair has grown beyond the traditional white-cube format. A SMALLER, MORE RELAXED ALTERNATIVE TO THE STANDARD ART FAIR MODEL Over the past five years, CAN Ibiza has become one of the Mediterranean’s most closely watched contemporary art gatherings. What do you think Ibiza offers to the art world today that other fairs or cities cannot? I think we landed on something that the world is slowly discovering as a sustainable alternative to standard art fair practice. Instead of large, overwhelming fairs in busy cities, we offer smaller events with hand-picked presenters, held in a relaxing and more informal environment. With the island being so beautiful and having a lot to offer on its own, every participant and visitor already feels good about being there in the first place, so everything else feels like a bonus. CAN Ibiza does not seem to revolve around a single central theme this year. Yet there is still a strong shared atmosphere throughout the fair, shaped by ideas of place, landscape, and perception. Was this something you consciously wanted to build into the curatorial framework? No, the themes usually propose themselves, and as a curator, I love seeing that happen. As commercial events, fairs aren’t easy to fully curate in that sense, but that dynamic also has its value because they often point to a larger picture of the world around us. I was particularly excited to see a number of works touching on the subject of illusion, especially sculptural works, and humanity’s shifting experience of understanding and trusting reality. IT’S IMPORTANT TO MAKE MORE OF THE ISLAND PART OF THE FAIR ITSELF Why was it important for CAN to move beyond the traditional fair format and engage more directly with Ibiza itself? And how much does the island shape your approach to contemporary art? For us — and I’m saying “us” because the OFF Program isn’t something I’m personally curating — it’s important to go beyond the fair format so more of the island becomes part of the project. From the first year, we didn’t want to be a circus that shows up once a year, puts on a show, and then leaves. The OFF Program is our way of connecting what already exists on the island with what we bring, and vice versa. It’s also a way to motivate visitors to explore locations and parts of Ibiza they might otherwise overlook, and hopefully discover something that stays with them. IT’S DIFFICULT TO DEFINE EXACTLY WHAT MAKES A WORK “EXCITING” You describe CAN Ibiza’s selection process as “artist-first.” What do you personally look for when selecting galleries and artists for the fair? I’m constantly looking at art — virtually, at galleries, fairs, studios, everywhere really — and I’m always excited when I come across works that genuinely feel exciting. It’s hard to describe exactly what makes a work “exciting,” because it can be the subject matter, the technique, the atmosphere, the attitude behind it, or even the way people talk about it. So the core idea is simply to identify those kinds of works and then find the right people willing to present them at CAN. Where do you see CAN Ibiza five years from now? I see it — or better, I hope to see it — becoming a globally recognised synonym for a unique art event that is equally enjoyed and appreciated by both visitors and the artists and galleries participating in it.

June 10, 2026 | DESIGN & INTERIORS CONTENT PARTNERSHIP TR BELOW J U L À DESIGNING a SPACE to FEEL GOOD in photos Kadir Aşnaz Located in Ankara, the capital of Turkiye, Julà brings together a restaurant and design studio under one roof — a shared space shaped by the vision of Zeynep Ensert Yüksel and Asım Yüksel, founders of Jul Happy Project. We spoke with the duo about Julà, designing through atmosphere and creating spaces that quietly settle into everyday life. How was Jul Happy Project founded? We founded Jul Happy Project in 2021 with the idea of approaching the relationship people build with spaces from a more emotional, lived-in and lasting perspective. We had realised that many of the moments that genuinely make people feel good in daily life are deeply connected to atmosphere. That became our starting point. How would you describe your design approach? We don’t see space as merely a physical composition. The light, sound, rhythm, circulation, materiality and the feeling a space leaves behind are just as important to us as aesthetics. That’s why the principle that defines our approach is not creating spaces that simply “look good”, but spaces that “feel good”. Rather than relying on expressive gestures, we focus on timeless simplicity, natural materials and spaces that build a quiet connection with the people using them. For us, good design is something that may impress at first glance, but more importantly, deepens over time as you continue to inhabit it. Julà is not only a restaurant, but also a shared space with your design studio. How did that idea emerge? Having the studio and the restaurant within the same building was less a strategic decision and more something that felt aligned with the way we wanted to live and work. We believe creative processes become more genuine and grounded when they exist within everyday life. Designing upstairs while people gather, eat and spend time downstairs creates a far more nourishing atmosphere for us than a sterile office environment ever could. That coexistence brings a certain vitality to the project. Julà is a living space — constantly evolving, shifting and allowing us to observe how people move through it. Experiencing user behaviour, the rhythm of the space and the corners where people naturally linger continues to shape our design thinking. Your motto is “making small but meaningful moments of happiness within daily life visible.” How did you translate that feeling into Julà? That idea sat at the centre of almost every decision we made for Julà. We believe the spaces people connect with most are the ones that quietly elevate the rhythm of everyday life. So rather than building the experience around grand gestures, we focused on smaller yet memorable moments: the shadows cast by daylight throughout the day, the flow between the garden and the interior, the feeling of sharing a meal around a long communal table, a slow afternoon spent over coffee, or the scent of pizza fresh from the oven filling the room. For us, all of these became part of the design language. We wanted the atmosphere to feel calming and effortless, yet still full of character. More than creating a place you “go to”, we tried to create one that feels as though you already belong there. Brick, earthy tones and natural textures play a strong role in the material palette. What informed those choices? Materials are what ultimately define how a space ages and what kind of character it develops over time. At Julà, we intentionally gravitated towards materials that age naturally and carry a tactile memory. Brick, for example, was never simply an aesthetic choice. It became a way of connecting the building to the street it inhabits, while also bringing warmth and a sense of continuity to the space. For the palette, we chose softer tones that respond naturally to sunlight — earthy colours, natural woods, matte surfaces and tactile textures. Many spaces today try to capture attention instantly. We value the opposite approach much more: creating a language that reveals itself gradually, becoming richer the longer you spend within it. You bring together design, hospitality and brand identity under one roof. What were the most challenging and rewarding aspects of that holistic approach? The most challenging part was making sure every layer worked together with real consistency. Designing a strong interior alone is never enough. The dining experience, service language, graphic identity, music, operational flow and overall user experience all need to carry the same feeling. Particularly in hospitality projects, people sense that coherence very clearly, even if they don’t consciously identify it. The most rewarding part has been watching Julà gradually form its own community. Today, that is what matters most to us: creating places that genuinely become part of people’s lives. What kind of contribution do you hope Julà will make to Ankara’s dining scene? We often see more refined dining experiences leaning either too formal or too performative. With Julà, we wanted to create something more relaxed, more natural and more connected to daily life. Julà has a structure that enjoys evolving, changing and growing. Our goal was never simply to become “a restaurant known for good pizza”. Through gatherings, events and future sub-brands, we want to build an atmosphere where people feel comfortable, natural and genuinely at ease. J U L À İYİ HİSSETTİREN bir MEKAN TASARLAMAK Ankara Beytepe’de konumlanan Julà, hem tasarım ofisi hem de restoran. Bu yeni nesil hibrit mekanı tasarlayan vizyoner çift ise Jul Happy Project kurucuları Zeynep Ensert Yüksel ile Asım Yüksel. Hem Julà hem de Jul Happy Project’i yakından tanımaya hazır mısınız? Jul Happy Project nasıl kuruldu? 2021’de, insanların mekânlarla kurduğu ilişkiyi daha duygusal, yaşamsal ve kalıcı bir yerden ele alma isteğiyle kuruldu. Günlük hayat içinde insanı gerçekten iyi hissettiren anların çoğunun doğru atmosferle ilişkili olduğunun farkındaydık. Bu da başlangıç noktamız oldu. Tasarım yaklaşımınızı nasıl özetlersiniz? Mekânı sadece fiziksel kurgu olarak görmüyoruz. Bir mekânın ışığı, sesi, ritmi, dolaşımı, malzemesi ve insanlarda bıraktığı his; tasarımın en az estetik kadar önemli parçaları. Bu nedenle yaklaşımımızı tanımlayan en temel prensip, “iyi görünen” değil, “iyi hissettiren” mekânlar üretmek. Tasarladığımız projelerde gösterişli jestler yerine zamansız sadeliğe sahip, doğal malzeme kullanımı ön planda olan, kullanıcıyla bağ kuran bir atmosfer oluşturmaya odaklanıyoruz. Bizim için iyi tasarım, ilk bakışta etkileyen, ama daha önemlisi içinde vakit geçirdikçe derinleşen tasarım. Julà sadece bir restoran değil, tasarım ofisinizle birlikte kurgulanmış hibrit bir mekân. Bu dikey birliktelik fikri nasıl ortaya çıktı? Tasarım ofisiyle restoranın aynı yapı içinde yer alması stratejik bir karardan çok, yaşam biçimimize yakın hissettiğimiz bir fikirdi. Biz üretim süreçlerinin hayatın içinde olduğunda daha samimi ve gerçek olduğuna inanıyoruz. Üst katta tasarım üretirken alt katta insanların yemek yiyip sohbet etmesi bizim için steril bir ofis ortamından çok daha besleyici bir atmosfer. Bu birliktelik projeye canlılık katıyor. Julà her gün yaşayan, dönüşen, değişen ve gözlem yapabildiğimiz bir alan. Kullanıcı davranışlarını, mekânın ritmini, insanların hangi köşelerde daha uzun vakit geçirdiğini deneyimlemek tasarım yaklaşımımızı sürekli besliyor. Mottonuz, “Gündelik hayat içindeki küçük ama değerli mutluluk anlarını görünür kılmak”. Jula’da bu hissi nasıl kurdunuz? Bu yaklaşım Julà’daki bütün kararların merkezindeydi. Çünkü biz insanların en çok bağ kurduğu mekânların gündelik hayatın ritmini güzelleştiren yerler olduğuna inanıyoruz. Bu yüzden Julà’da deneyimi daha küçük ama güçlü anlar üzerinden kurmaya çalıştık. Gün ışığının gün içinde mekânda bıraktığı gölgeler, bahçeyle iç mekân arasındaki akış, uzun masada birlikte yemek paylaşma hissi, kahve içerken geçirilen sakin bir öğleden sonra ya da fırından çıkan pizzanın mekâna yayılan kokusu… Hepsi bizim için tasarımın bir parçasıydı. Mekânın kullanıcıyı yormayan, rahatlatan ama aynı zamanda karakterli hissettiren bir atmosferi olsun istedik. Bir yere “gitmiş” gibi değil de, zaten oraya aitmişsiniz gibi hissettiren bir kurgu oluşturmaya çalıştık. Malzeme seçiminde tuğla, toprak tonları ve doğal dokular öne çıkıyor. Bu tercihlerin arkasındaki düşünce neydi? Bir mekânın nasıl yaşlanacağını ve zamanla nasıl bir karakter kazanacağını belirleyen en önemli unsur malzemeler. Julà’da özellikle doğal yaş alan ve dokusal hafızası olan malzemelere yöneldik. Tuğla bizim için sadece görsel bir tercih değildi; yapının bulunduğu caddeyle ilişki kuran, mekâna sıcaklık ve süreklilik hissi veren temel bir unsurdu. Renk paletinde ise daha sakin, güneş ışığıyla yaşayan tonlar tercih ettik. Toprak renkleri, doğal ahşaplar, mat yüzeyler ve yumuşak dokular kullanarak mekânın gösterişten uzak, ama güçlü bir atmosfer kurmasını hedefledik. Bugün birçok mekân çok hızlı dikkat çekmeye çalışıyor. Biz tam tersine, zaman geçirdikçe daha fazla hissedilen bir dil kurmayı çok daha değerli buluyoruz. Tasarım, mutfak kültürü ve marka kimliğini tek bir yapı içinde birleştiriyorsunuz. Bu bütüncül yaklaşımda en zorlayıcı ve en tatmin edici taraflar neler oldu? En zorlayıcı taraf, tüm katmanların gerçekten tutarlı bir şekilde birlikte çalışmasını sağlamaktı. Çünkü sadece iyi bir iç mekân tasarlamak yetmiyor. Mutfak kültürü, servis dili, grafik dünyası, ortamın müziği, operasyon akışı ve kullanıcı deneyiminin aynı hissi taşıması gerekiyor. Özellikle gastronomi projelerinde insanlar bunu bilinçli olarak fark etmese bile, o bütünlük hissini çok net algılıyor. Bizim için en tatmin edici taraf, Julà’nın zamanla kendi topluluğunu oluşturmasını görmek oldu. Bugün en çok önemsediğimiz şey bu: İnsanların hayatında yer edinen mekânlar yaratabilmek. Julà, Ankara’daki yeme-içme sahnesine nasıl bir katkı sunmayı hedefliyor? Daha rafine bir yeme içme deneyimi sunan mekanların çoğunlukla ya fazla resmi ya da fazla gösterişli bir çizgide ilerlediğine tanık oluyoruz. Julà’da ise daha yumuşak, daha yaşamsal ve günlük hayatın içine karışabilen bir deneyim alanı açıyoruz. Değişip dönüşmeyi ve gelişmeyi çok seven bir yapısı var Julà’nın. Hedefimiz hiçbir zaman sadece “iyi pizza yapan bir restoran” olmak değil; etkinlikler, buluşmalar ve alt markalarla insanların kendilerini rahat, doğal ve ait hissedebilecekleri bir atmosfer kurmak. WEB https://www.julaankara.com INSTAGRAM https://www.instagram.com/julhappyproject/ https://www.instagram.com/julaankara/

September 2, 2026 | Travel a PRIVATE WORLD on the PACIFIC words Noah Mercer photos Davis Gerber Forget the usual idea of a “dream hotel”. Cuixmala operates on an entirely different scale. Set along five kilometres of Mexico’s Pacific coastline, the estate extends across an immense landscape, with a 30,000-acre nature reserve that is home to approximately 12,000 plant species and a remarkable variety of wildlife — including its now-famous zebras. Across the property, Cuixmala unfolds as a collection of distinct places to stay. Casa Cuixmala brings together suites and bungalows, while the Casas comprise three private villas — Casa Alborada, Casa La Playa and Casa Torre. The Casitas reinterpret the traditional Mexican house in a more contemporary language, with ten residences overlooking the ocean and accommodating different numbers of guests. THE STORY BEHIND THE ARCHITECTURE Cuixmala’s unusual mix of Mexican, European and Moroccan influences has much to do with its origins. The estate was once the private home of British-French billionaire and politician Sir James Goldsmith, who died in 1997. A few years later, it was transformed into a hotel by his daughter Alix Marcaccini, although members of the Goldsmith family still maintain private homes on the property. Goldsmith led an unconventional life. Married three times and the father of eight children, he also had a number of long-term relationships. Marcaccini has described family as deeply important to her father despite the atypical structure of his life. Her mother, Lady Annabel Goldsmith, is also closely associated with another well-known institution: London members’ club Annabel’s was named after her. THE ZEBRAS OF CUIXMALA During the years when Goldsmith used Cuixmala as a private estate, its guest list included presidents, prime ministers, business figures and cultural personalities. Ronald Reagan, Henry Kissinger and Richard Nixon were among those who visited. One guest, however, remains unidentified: the person said to have given Goldsmith a pair of African zebras. Their descendants still roam the estate today, with the herd having grown to around 40. CONSERVATION FROM THE BEGINNING Environmental conservation was part of Goldsmith’s vision for Cuixmala long before sustainability became a standard part of the hospitality conversation. The surrounding landscape remains central to the experience of the estate. Zebras and other introduced species live alongside the region’s native wildlife, including jaguars and pumas, within a vast protected environment where nature is given as much space as possible. WHERE IS CUIXMALA? Cuixmala is located on Costa Alegre in the Mexican state of Jalisco, between Puerto Vallarta and Manzanillo. Puerto Vallarta is around three hours away by car, while Manzanillo can be reached in approximately 75 minutes. The estate feels deliberately remote, but a drive of around half an hour along the coast leads to Careyes, the colourful resort community known for its restaurants, clubs and distinctive architecture.

Villa Quantum in Mallorca pairs Brutalist-inspired architecture by Estudio Cano Arquitectura with warm interiors by Gunni & Trentino and a strong connection to the Mediterranean landscape. September 3, 2026 | DESIGN & INTERIORS TWO WAYS of LIVING at the OWO words Onur Baştürk photos Julian Abrams (The OWO Residences) At The OWO in London, award-winning interior design practice Goddard Littlefair has created two distinct private homes, each shaped around a different way of living. London’s former Old War Office on Whitehall has an unusually strong architectural and historical identity. Now home to The OWO Residences by Raffles, the Grade II* listed Edwardian Baroque landmark also houses Raffles London. For two private homes on the fifth floor, Goddard Littlefair resisted the idea of a single design language, using imagined residents as the starting point for two distinct interiors. We spoke with founders Jo Littlefair and Martin Goddard about working within a building of such presence, deciding where contemporary interventions belong, and creating interiors that feel personal without becoming overly polished. A BUILDING WITH PRESENCE The OWO has an unusually strong architectural and historical identity. When designing a contemporary home within a building with such presence, how do you decide what to preserve, what to respond to, and where to introduce something entirely new? JO: You have to earn the right to add anything new to a building like this. The proportions, the sense of gravitas, that's not something we were ever going to compete with, so the first job was listening to the architecture rather than ignoring it. Once we understood what the building was giving us, it became much clearer where a contemporary gesture could sit comfortably alongside it. MARTIN: Our brief was to honour the history without letting it become a constraint. That's a fine line. We weren't interested in pastiche, and we weren't interested in ignoring 1906 either. Every material decision was tested against that context: does this feel considered within these walls, or does it feel like it's fighting them? The architecture gives you elegance, scale and proportion in spades, and we were very aware we were working within a building that has earned its place in London and in the nation. It demanded to be respected, and every choice was tested against that same question: did it sit in harmony with the building? At the same time, our ambition was to create genuinely desirable residences, so we wanted to peel back the stoicism of the building's exterior and deliver something welcoming and cocooning once you stepped inside. Rather than create a single design language for the two residences, you imagined two very different ways of living. How did those fictional residents take shape, and when did they begin to influence the architecture, materials and objects around them? MARTIN: We didn't want to default to one idea of luxury and repeat it twice down the corridor. So we asked who actually lives at an address like this, and the honest answer is more than one kind of person. That's really where the two residences began, not as two schemes but as two different sets of values. JO: Once we had a sense of who each resident was — someone with a collector's eye and a more sociable, fluid way of living in 5.06, someone more introspective and structured in 5.08 — the decisions started making themselves. A cocktail cabinet becomes a display of things gathered through travel for one person, and a dedicated space for music and quiet retreat for the other. The character came first. I started looking at life through the lens of the characters we'd created, and the objects followed. It became a habit, thinking about brands, restaurants, London life, and what each of them would actually enjoy. I'm a bit of a magpie and a nostalgic dreamer at heart, and I believe being selective about what you surround yourself with connects you to experiences, to emotions, to your own values. Those are the touches that make a house feel like home, and they're deeply personal. IT’S A QUESTION OF RESTRAINT You describe the spaces as “composed rather than decorated.” What does that distinction mean in practice, particularly in a project where craftsmanship, collectible pieces and bespoke details play such an important role? JO: Decorated implies you're filling a room. Composed means every piece is there because of its relationship to everything else: the piece beside it, the light above it, the surface it sits on. With this many bespoke and collectible pieces in play, that discipline matters even more, because it would be very easy to end up with a beautiful room that doesn't actually hang together. MARTIN: It's a question of restraint, really. We had extraordinary pieces to work with — hand-finished joinery, vintage furniture, bespoke rugs — and the temptation with that level of craft is to let each piece perform. We wanted them to work as a group instead, so the atmosphere feels settled rather than assembled. No single element steals the show, because the moment it does, all the surprise and delight is given away in an instant. You have to work around a room and make sure every piece has been through the rigour of selection. Placing things together well is a craft that isn't easily learned. It's really like painting a three-dimensional picture, so that wherever your eye lands in the room, a colour or a detail connects it to something else. TWO DISTRINCT MOOD, BOTH ROOTED IN QUIET LUXURY The two residences have very different atmospheres — one lighter, more fluid and collected; the other darker, more structured and architectural. Beyond palette, which design decisions were most important in shaping each home's character? MARTIN: Planning was just as important as materiality in the end. 5.06 is organised around a fluid sequence of spaces that supports informal entertaining, people moving easily between hosting, dining and lounging. 5.08 introduces much clearer moments of definition: a library wall, a dining booth, a separate den. That structure changes how a room feels to move through long before you consider what's in it. Before we even began, we spent real time thinking through the planning of both apartments. Historic buildings give you unusual spaces to work with by their nature, and with that comes opportunity. Working out where you can create moments of surprise and delight gives you a framework, and if that framework is right, the scheme you layer on top of it is already halfway to succeeding. JO: Texture carried a lot of the character too. In 5.06, it's about layering upholstery, mirror and hand-finished silk panels to build softness and richness without heavy contrast. In 5.08, we let the materials sit deeper and darker and balanced that with tailored, clean-lined furniture. Two very different moods, but both are still quiet luxury. Neither one is shouting. The quality of the materials spoke to the calibre of the building itself, too. We were conscious throughout of choosing fabrics and finishes that respected The OWO and its stature. EVIDENCE OF A LIFE Contemporary luxury residential design can become highly polished yet somewhat anonymous. How do you give a newly completed interior a sense of life, personality and history of its own? JO: You give it evidence of a life being lived, not just staged. Pieces that feel collected over time rather than placed all at once, a changing wall of artwork, glassware gathered through travel. Those details suggest a story before anyone's actually moved in, and that's what stops a finished interior feeling anonymous. MARTIN: It also comes down to not smoothing everything into one register. A home with personality has small frictions in it: a slightly playful dining arrangement next to a more formal seating group, an antique mirror beside something entirely new. That's closer to how people actually live, and it's what gives a space warmth rather than polish for its own sake.

Padovani’s Tekoá House in Brazil follows the natural slope of the land, bringing architecture, interiors and tropical landscape into a close dialogue. September 2, 2026 | DESIGN & INTERIORS TEKOÁ HOUSE words Noah Mercer photos Studio NY 18 Set on a sloping site in Brazil, Tekoá House by Brazilian architecture and design studio Padovani takes its cues directly from the terrain. Architecture, interiors and landscape are conceived as parts of the same composition, with overlapping volumes, natural materials and broad openings keeping the house closely connected to its surroundings. WORKING WITH THE TERRAIN The residence follows an L-shaped configuration that responds to the site’s topography. At ground level, one volume extends perpendicular to the street, while the upper floor rests above it, shifting between parallel and perpendicular orientations. Seen from different angles, the house takes on a changing profile, while sheltered outdoor areas emerge between the architecture and the landscape. Arrival is at street level, where the private programme is located. Five suites, including the master suite, occupy this floor, with views carefully framed from the rooms and circulation planned around privacy and quiet. A landscaped staircase provides a second route into the house, leading directly to the upper level and its leisure spaces. Materials play a central role in defining the house. Moledo stone walls mark the main edges of the site and visually anchor the building to the ground. Timber appears around the pool deck and overhead, where wooden ceilings and deep horizontal eaves bring shade and rhythm to the volumes. Across the façades, Padovani uses dark brown slatted aluminium panels as the principal enclosure, bringing continuity to the exterior while helping to control sunlight and provide privacy. INSIDE, THE VIEW COMES FIRST The interiors remain firmly oriented towards the landscape. Furniture is positioned to keep the views present throughout the day, while contemporary pieces, including signed Brazilian designs, are paired with leather, linen and wood. Lighter fabrics contrast with deeper timber tones, while rounded edges and organic lines bring a softer quality to the rooms. The palette continues the use of natural materials found throughout the architecture, giving the interiors a warm but restrained character. A TROPICAL LANDSCAPE Tropical planting brings vivid greens against the more restrained tones of the building. Dense groups of shrubs define the approach to the house, while palm trees punctuate the façade vertically and mark the entrance. Directly in front of the residence, an olive tree forms a quieter focal point. Conceived within the project as a symbol of permanence, time and contemplation, it becomes both a visual marker and a more personal element within the arrival sequence. Tekoá House reflects Padovani’s broader approach to architecture: simplicity, technical precision and a close dialogue with nature. The Brazilian studio describes its work as a balance between conceptual thinking and the particular needs of each project, expressed through a language of elegance and tropicality.

May 15, 2026 | Art & Culture media partner YUZU BIG SEE and the RIGHT AMOUNT words Onur Basturk Zmago Novak’s Portrait Primoz Korosec Ahead of BIG SEE Festival 2026, YUZU — an official media partner of the festival — speaks with founder Zmago Novak about excess, relevance and why “measure” may once again become architecture’s most valuable idea. BIG SEE Festival has never positioned itself merely as an annual gathering. Founded by Zmago Novak, the Slovenia-based platform has gradually evolved into a year-round ecosystem connecting architecture, design and creative culture across South-East Europe and beyond. Through conferences, awards and editorial programmes, BIG SEE approaches architecture not as spectacle, but as a discipline tied to relevance, responsibility and human scale. Its 2026 edition, taking place in Portorož under the theme “Too much? What is just enough?”, arrives at a moment when architecture is increasingly shaped by questions of excess and visibility. We spoke with Novak about the platform’s evolution, the culture of overproduction surrounding contemporary design, and why “enough” may once again become one of architecture’s most necessary ideas. MORE THAN A FESTIVAL BIG SEE has evolved far beyond a festival. Looking back, what transformed it into a year-round ecosystem? And although rooted in Slovenia and Southeast Europe, do you now see the platform operating on a more global scale? If there was one trigger, it was obviously the pandemic in 2020–21. At that time, when physical contact became nearly impossible for more than a year, we had to move the platform into the digital space. By its nature, digital operates continuously — and social media even more so. Interestingly, alongside strengthening our digital presence, we also expanded across the region once travel became possible again, co-hosting BIG SEE events in places such as Skopje, Istanbul and Podgorica. At the same time, our conferences, award programmes and expos continued to grow, especially now that the architecture and design programmes have merged into one festival. We began a quarter of a century ago as a Slovenian publishing platform and award show. Over time, we expanded steadily across the region, and today, as creative practices themselves have become increasingly international, BIG SEE is growing outward as well. We aim to remain globally relevant, while recognising that physical contact and regional context still matter deeply. South-East Europe remains our core environment — both culturally and professionally. AN EXCESS OF ALMOST EVERYTHING The 2026 theme, “Too much? What is just enough?”, feels both direct and quietly provocative. Do you believe architecture and design are currently facing a problem of excess—or is it more a question of losing direction? I believe the world as a whole is facing an excess of almost everything. Design and architecture exist within that same condition, while also responding to clients whose expectations are often excessive themselves. There is a very delicate balance between steering a project towards more sustainable and responsible solutions, and being perceived as disconnected from contemporary culture or ambition. BEYOND VISIBILITY The BIG SEE Awards emphasise substance over spectacle, and context over scale. In a culture increasingly driven by visibility, how do you see this position resonating with today’s architectural and design landscape? Thanks for noticing our efforts around substance. Architects and designers live within the same realities as everyone else. We are all experiencing climate change, witnessing the immense energy demands of massive data centres, and trying to understand what the AI revolution may bring within the next decade. We are attempting to keep things in perspective, so that the human scale remains relevant. That idea was embedded in our name from the very beginning: BIG originally stood for Bio-Intelli-Gence — or “gens,” meaning people in Latin. Humanity has evolved anatomically, mentally and socially over tens of thousands of years. It’s striking to consider how quickly that entire framework could transform into something beyond our grasp. The conference programme deliberately creates moments of friction, pairing different voices to encourage debate rather than consensus. In your view, is what’s missing today more dialogue—or a stronger critical stance? A productive dialogue is impossible without a critical stance. On the other hand, we should also avoid reaching a point where constant criticism prevents anything from being implemented. A democratic cycle of three to six years feels like a reasonable compromise, allowing enough time for ideas to be tested. The real challenge is finding the balance between being a constructive critic — someone trying to improve things — and becoming purely destructive. THE ETHICS OF MEASURE At the core of BIG SEE is the idea of “measure” — finding the right balance. As the platform evolves, how do you personally define the line between what is enough and what is too much? “Measure” feels like a somewhat forgotten concept today — yet one we urgently need to recover. And yes, it carries a deeply ethical dimension, one that still needs to be understood through the classical idea that knowledge, ethics and aesthetics are all different faces of the same coin. Modernity often presents itself as radically new, but in reality it always remains connected to history, and is quickly absorbed back into it. Perhaps one becomes more aware of this with maturity, but I hope humanity as a whole is beginning to recognise it too.