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✒  Enfant, je préférais tremper mes pinceaux dans l'encre noire plutôt que d'employer des couleurs. On m'a raconté que je faisais de grands traits noirs sur le papier. J'aurais répondu que je faisais de la neige.” P. Soulages Pierre Soulages, often referred to as the "painter of black", had a profound relationship with this enigmatic color, elevating it to a medium of expression beyond its conventional associations. Having dedicated a lifelong exploration to its depth, versatility and paradoxical warmth, the artist often describes his work as “painting with light”. The black fabric samples hanging against a dark background framed, in my mind, a composition à la Soulages, where contours reveal when color meets color — black on black, perhaps the most extreme yet deeply expressive example. The subtleties of the surface awaken only through the intervention of light — vibrant, even flashy at times, or softened into mysterious, faded shadows, urging the viewer to adjust their gaze to a gradual discovery. The inherent elegance of black comes to the forefront, while the density and depth of the color creates an enveloping effect, the fabric’s weight and body starts to appear. Like tasting dark chocolate, it may initially feel overwhelming only to  unfold into a richness that lingers, captivates, and surprises, deepening as one’s perception adjusts to its complexity. Words and picture by Madalina Anghelescu

✒ “Plus, in my experience, when you choose the right scale, music sounds beautiful”, points out sculptor Xavier Corberó in the five-minute “In residence” video, where he walks us through his kaleidoscopic, otherworldly architectural creation. Although depicting music, he refers to space. On a more down-to-earth exploration, the corner of a fairly common building, somewhere in Porto catches the eye. That is if our eye can pause for a few minutes on the way up or down the stairs to observe the subtle interplay of elements that reveal an understated sense of scale. While the rhythmic subdivision of the window frame is the eye catcher, the true depth of scale unfolds through the finer details. The low and medium plinths subtly anchor the composition, while the connection between the retombé and the adjacent wall adds a nuanced layer of spatial continuity. The slight offset of the wall on the left and the presence of the staircase on the right contribute to the overall dynamic, bringing balance. Each feature guards its own identity, only to dialogue harmoniously with the others in a sensitive orchestration of scale, where every detail adds to a refined architectural resonance. Can you hear it? Words by Madalina Anghelescu Picture by Mauro Brigham

✒ While packing the office for our move, we stumbled upon a box of drawings — all of them from our former colleague, Pedro. As we went through them one by one, I couldn’t help to notice how fascinated we still are when we come across something crafted by hand. “Wow, look at the details! The colors! Remember this idea we had?” Like kids in a candy shop, our colleagues paused in front of the box. Even those just passing by got caught up for a good few minutes, flipping through one drawing after another. Drawing, much like cooking (for those who enjoy it, of course), is a process that doesn’t just target the result — a jaw-dropping sketch or a perfect dish but is essential in what we might call spontaneous revelations or discoveries — ideas and germs of ideas that could easily be missed if we only relied on computer skills or “inspiring” images to express ourselves. The richness of drawing lies in training our minds to play, to explore, rather than expecting to land on the perfect solution from the first take. When we place pencil to paper, the line can move freely, sometimes taking unexpected turns, deviating from the original intention, and setting in place another idea, one we didn’t even know we had. The measured control we have while drawing, if we understand we need to set our lines, colors, and hand movements free, transforms into something quite exquisite and truly authentic — a personal barometer of our mood, sensitivity, and unique form of expression. It brings out our spirit, awakens our curiosity and mostly, reminds us that some of our best projects came up when playing with a pen on a piece of paper, not forcing but letting our hand flow. Words by Madalina Anghelescu Picture by Pedro Rodrigues

✒ Rue 66, Hôtel des Monnaies — "the Horta House" — was the address we gave for the last 10 years to clients, colleagues, friends, suppliers. It was our office. Everyone shared the same reaction upon entering: "Wow, you are lucky to work here!". We lost count of how many times we heard it. With time we grew accustomed to it, though occasionally still struck by the life-changing quality of the space, as we climbed the marble steps to go up, touching the intricate wood balustrade and seeing the colored light from the stained glass on the mosaic floor. We opened the door sometimes to curious tourists, some daring to tap and ask for a look inside, others more shy, peering at us from the street. Despite two rounds of renovations, the house retained its historic charm and its details spoke to us of another time — when time was meticulously put into each piece that makes a building, be it a doorknob, a radiator, a light switch, or an imposing staircase. Inhabiting a heritage building had its challenges, but as we pack the last boxes, preparing to hand it over to its next tenant, we realize how much the "Horta House" taught us daily about harmony, elegance, comfort, and the paramount importance of care and artistry. Lucky us indeed. Words by Madalina Anghelescu Picture by Sebastien Penasse

“He thought (...) that beauty was not a luxury, luxurious and unnecessary things were actually unbeautiful, since beauty was closely allied to necessity and nature. (...) needful things had dignity and deserved to be made seriously and well.” Olivia Laing – The Garden against time ✒This summer, instead of seeking sun-drenched coasts, we chose a quiet village in my home country, craving for respite and a slower pace. We rarely visit the places we come from, somehow assuming “back home” will always be there. As such I humbly rediscovered why roots matter, perhaps a reflection of age - a certain sensitivity and porousness that comes with it, but not only. The village, set in the heart of Transylvania, dates from early 14th century, the house we lived in - a traditional saxon house - preserved at a maximum of its original state, whilst still ensuring a decent level of comfort and utility. We felt disarmed and somewhat overwhelmed by the absolute harmony of all that surrounded us. Everything had endured and belonged to its place, nothing superfluous or purely decorative but all handcrafted and cared for: wooden cabinets, painted benches, hand weaved carpets and curtains filtering the daylight, all softened gracefully by time. There was a comforting sense of continuity - feeling at home in a place made home by others – the simple people of the village - long before our arrival. A state of peace embraced us as we unpacked, we were in the presence of beauty. Words and picture by Madalina Anghelescu

✒ The question of bespoke furniture arises more and more as sustainability and circularity become essential factors in the design process. Is “custom made” an accessory or a necessity? Fixed furniture, tailored to precisely fit the singularities of a building is a coherent and thoughtful approach in the long term, provided the user shares the same vision and ethics. We implement bespoke strategies in scenarios where existing market solutions fall short, particularly in projects requiring a unique touch for functionality and brand identity. Here are some questions we’re still pondering on, and lessons we’re learning as we work and test: - Bespoke solutions involve prototyping and implementing unique models in actual projects. While this carries the risk of unproven methods, it offers the potential for exceptional outcomes. Is it worth the risk? We believe it is, as long as the approach remains reasonable and uncalculated errors don't jeopardize the overall project. - While custom solutions may initially seem more expensive, they often prove cost-effective in the long run. They ensure higher quality, reducing the need for late-stage modifications and costly replacements. - Lastly, “tailor made” means it fits to size – this size, not another – ensuring not only space and material optimization, but also a harmonious and nearly perfect fit. Words by Madalina Anghelescu Picture by MinHuy

✒ Bijoy Jain’s showcase “Le souffle de l’architecte” extended on the -1 level. No windows there, nor a particular quality of space, just big plain walls. A collection of smaller scale objects on display, complementing flawlessly the exhibits above. The light was dim, a static ambiance with a thoughtful scenography that featured every piece in an equivalent way, so that nothing would stand out, nor would anything pass unobserved. I lingered around a chair placed in a corner, drawn by its perfectly simple staging. I wove a whole narrative around it, for some reason a Beckett play started unravelling: solitude, fragility, hope, longing. There, in the corner. And this as a contemplation on our ability to control and play with artificial light, the invisible ingredient that we mostly underestimate in our quest for design virtuosity. Focused on perfect shapes and colors we forget that light can do so much with so little. Only a subtle adjustment of intensity and with it a whole range of emotions. Space as a blank page, awaiting for stories to be imprinted and then erased and rewritten, one after another. All in the hands of the storyteller. "Vladimir: Well, shall we go?  Estragon: Yes, let's go.  They do not move.“ (Waiting for Godot – Samuel Beckett) Words & picture by Madalina Anghelescu

✒ Rêverie n.f. Etat de conscience passif (et agréable) dans lequel la pensée se laisse aller. Entière occupation de l’esprit. I recently visited Bijoy Jain's exhibition in Paris, before it closed. It was impeccably curated with a few pieces, including life-sized objects that you could enter, touch, sit on. I arrived, not premeditated, at what seemed to be the perfect time to me: 4pm. So, I got this late afternoon light that put up its own show, doubling or at least substantially elevating the experience. The objects and installations moved with the changing light, casting shadows that stretched following the sun, only to slowly fade out and disappear, restoring the objects they clung to to their original shape, enhancing the materiality and exposing the intricateness of the pieces, brightening up colors and warming up stone chairs. I thought about light, the natural one, beyond our control, with its own moods and rhythms — and how profoundly it influences our perception of space. Had it been a cloudy day, I would have witnessed a different exhibition. So, this as a small ode to natural light and how meaningfully we can co-create with it if we learn to listen to its tempo while embracing its unpredictability. Words & picture by Madalina Anghelescu

Amongst the joys of an architect’s life is the site visit of a new project. The thrilling “What are we getting ourselves into?” moment. Impressions are a mixed bag but more often than not, they turn out to be surprisingly inspiring, for better or worse. Upon a recent visit to an old Brussels house, that was transformed and expanded into office space, we stumbled upon some remarkable details that begged for sharing and discussion.It wasn't clear whether we agreed or fully grasped the reasoning behind every aspect of the intervention. Yet, it stirred some questions and reflections about the clash of two generations, forced to cohabitate, and left us pondering if the gentleman in the painting is comfortable with his current “mise-en-scene”.

It takes time and love and a considerable amount of patience to make a model. It involves meticulous attention to detail holding your breath while gluing dozens of tiny figures, fitting “glass walls” and “planting trees”. In the rush and urgency of today, model-making may appear outdated, naive, and overly idealistic. Yet, some of us continue this pursuit. For many, the process of crafting and constructing, even on a miniature scale, morphs into a form of meditation. It’s not screen time - my hands bring my ideas to life. Each stroke and cut is made with a mindset of material conservation and caution to errors, training us to use resources wisely, as if we couldn't instantly undo, correct or effortlessly edit. Sort of like in life.

The model, a crafted small scaled replica of the spaces we envision, remains difficult to compete with for a 2D generated render image, regardless of its impeccable detail. Engaging with an object that you can touch and observe from different angles allows for a very personal projection into the space, reminiscent of how we’d do as kids. In its imperfection of being assembled by hands and not a machine, the model awakens the latent child within us, this creature still deeply attuned to the joy of play as part of its intrinsic nature. Thus, it creates a profoundly human connection between us – the makers and the users- the ones that try to imagine themselves inhabiting our spaces. A common language, that we all aim for and struggle with. Because who doesn’t like to play?

“The poetic image […] is not an echo of the past. On the contrary: through the brilliance of any image, the distant past resounds with echoes.” ― Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space In the heart of an unfinished construction, where structures and forms are yet to find their completion, lies a special kind of beauty. Amidst the raw and undefined, each corner sparks our imagination, inviting our minds to complete the “picture” with our own narrative, weaved from our personal sensitivity, expectations and interpretation of what will be. In a very short and determined frame of time – in the interplay of possibility and creation - each of us can find echoes of “future” memories.

A renovation process creates this unique context where the existing becomes a protagonist, a source of both constraints and inspiration. It introduces a slow dance of patience that challenges the "out with the old, in with the new" mantra, enriching space with deeper meaning. As is often the case, constraints invite us to reevaluate what we have. And as is often the case, what we already have isn’t just sufficient but sometimes full of untapped potential, ready to be discovered and exploited. Circularity is more than trendy response to our contemporary crisis; it's a forgotten wisdom in our haste for newness. It's not about quick wins and time spare but but about weaving some depth into our environment and a sense of belonging.

Work advances on our future workspace and while we take great pleasure in the process, we can’t help to show also some nostalgy for having to say good bye to our temporary façade installation. The collective experience we generated with an expressive introduction to our neighbours is an essential ingredient for us in the further development of the project. Even though the façade will be properly dressed with new windows in couple of months, we hope the invitation to dialogue and participation left a trace in the memory of the neighbourhood. One we promise to continue to feed. Photo by Beatriz Amann

We invited our neighbours to meet… and they came! Curious about who we are and what we’re up to, we talked, we warmed up with a cup of tea and shared some thoughts. This get-together marks the start of our new adventure as we will be soon moving into our own tailor-made workspace, that encapsulates our spirit, expertise, and culture. Community building and integration in the municipality are high on our agenda, stay tuned. Photo by minHuy (Huy Nguyen)

Dear neighbors, This is our future workspace. We are architects and designers, we don't just enjoy working, we'd also love to welcome you to join us to share a meal, coffee, and some stories * * once we've tidied up the place We dropped a message to introduce ourselves to the neighbourhood in Molenbeek, on the building that will house our new offices and other complementary functions. Illustrations by Ola Sadownik Text by Madalina Anghelescu Installation by the contractor B@home Photo by minHuy (Huy Nguyen)