Oak treads, lit from beneath.
Solid oak treads cantilever off the wall with no stringer and no risers, each one washed from below by a concealed line of light. A single glass guard keeps the run open to the windows behind it. By day it is sculpture. At night it is the house's nightlight.
Stone, and a lot of oak.
A waterfall island in natural stone anchors the room, with the same stone wrapping the range hood and running up the backsplash. Full-height oak cabinetry hides the refrigeration and the pantry, so the walls read as millwork, not appliances. Two bronze sconces flank the hood, because a kitchen deserves a lamp, too.
Floating oak, lit like a gallery wall.
A long oak vanity floats off the floor under a grey marble top, with wall-mounted bronze faucets over each basin. The mirror runs the full width and is lit from behind, so the light washes the stone instead of hitting your face. This is where a morning starts, and it was designed like it.
Green glaze, brushed brass.
The one room where the house allows itself color. Glazed green tile, laid with a deliberate hand-made irregularity, wraps the wall behind a floating oak vanity and a soft stone top. Brushed brass fittings and a backlit mirror keep it warm, never cold.
