Luis and Yamile live in a beautiful house. The porch floor is made of rock. Despite it being solid, it is soft and inviting. A big sycamore tree casts a generous shadow. The house's walls are painted a warm, wooden red, and the door stands out in a beautiful contrasting yellow. The whole scene is reminiscent of a house nestled deep in a Baltic meadow, like the ones you see in TV shows.
Luis and Yamile are gentle souls with a passion for art. She adores plants, and he has a deep affection for animals. Their home mirrors their love for their space and their unique personalities. Gaia reigns as the queen here. Yet...
The house had this little nook. It's the first thing you see when you open the door. It's narrow, not very squared — it's an old house — and, until now, it had no function other than being a placeholder for things. Luís knew something needed to happen, so he asked me, "What can you do about this?" I immediately loved the project; it had all the elements I'm looking for: a specific problem in search of a very personalized solution, and a patent need to fill an aesthetic and functional void. More importantly, improving the entrance to their home seemed to me like a noble goal. I got to work.
In the initial design phases, I consulted with Luís for most of my decisions. One late Tuesday night, after a hard workout, he suggested these beautiful brass knobs for the hardware. In a stroke of genius, he proposed incorporating the brass theme throughout the piece. He also suggested using brass stripes in the French cleats for the hangers.
After deciding on the brass theme, I sent Luís home with wood samples. Our initial idea was white oak with a minor reddish stain or walnut. Luís and I were leaning towards oak, but Yami, in her genius stroke on a Wednesday morning, said, "Walnut it is."
When I saw the final result, the beautiful juxtaposition of chocolate and gold came alive, and I thought to myself, they were both so right! It confirmed my drive to always strive towards a collaborative design approach. That was the last big decision we needed to make pre-production. After that, I got to work.
The first part was building the structure in the nook, the backbone of the project and the most technical and challenging aspect. The nook's asymmetry and non-square angles posed significant challenges.
Ensuring the wood was smooth before the installation and cutting began was crucial. Achieving the desired golden chocolate theme required starting with the rawest wood available, rich in sapwood. We also needed thick, structurally solid material. Planning where each piece of wood would go, how they would be joined to create panels, and maximizing surface area while minimizing waste required meticulous planning, milling, and planing. It was slow, sweaty work, but I thrive in this kind of environment, and we did a good job.
The second challenge was the wall's unevenness, which surpassed my initial assessment. While the French cleats and top shelves were straightforward, the bottom cabinet presented a significant challenge. It was where Yami, Luis, and their guests would sit to change shoes, demanding both visual and tactile excellence. We needed a seamless visual match between the top board and the wall and a smooth, buttery surface tactically.
To solve the visual match, we created a plywood template that fit perfectly before making the first cut in our carefully planned panels. Working by approximation, we cut fractions of a millimeter at a time until achieving the perfect fit. Slow and steady was the approach. After three weeks of hard work, the structure was up, and we were ready to address the details.
These crates are awesome. The rounded shape beautifully softens the overall linear construction, and the handles play with the arch so nicely. I deliberately chose the rawest, knottiest walnut I could find for the fronts, and it put up a real fight. I had to use all my hand planes and power planes, but I earned those shiny, tigery marks. The objective here was, do the common crate, uncommonly well.
Detail 1: Solid AF Crates 🥛
French Cleats have been around for centuries, originating as a primary storage method for boat builders in France. They embody true elegance, not just aesthetically but mathematically as well. Their function is clear, graphically expressing their purpose: to be incredibly sturdy. Thanks to their clever angles, most horizontal forces are negated, allowing them to support substantial weight. Initially confined to the workshop, we brought them here and made them the centerpiece. They have two different knobs so that each serves the purpose of holding everything that a person in winter can have: coat, gloves, scarf, gloves and a backpack.The entire construction process was a joy, involving angles to curves, recesses, turning, routing, and cutting. Zip, zap, zung.
Detail 2: French Cleats Holders 🪚
These lids are fantastic; they rhyme with the hangers from the racks. They represent simplicity in design. But because nothing here is symmetrical or square, even though the goal is to make it look that way, the lids have a specific direction. They only fit in one way, and the logo marks that direction. They are fully removable so that the cabinets they close are available for umbrellas, skis or doggy sticks.
Detail 3: The Lids 🧢
Oh, man! This is the tale of the surprise that almost wasn't. Constructing this little cabinet was the linchpin of the project. I wanted to do something special for Luís. He appreciates the look of natural wood and its combination with resin. I decided to use a lighter walnut slab for the front of the door and the drawers . Lots of personality and lots of contrast. It was challenging because finding the right slab of the right color and then cutting it right— even though not super technical, needed to be perfectly executed. It was risky because I hadn't confirmed that it would be a go.
I said, "F it. Let's take a chance." I designed a backup plan, and I got to work. It was a surprise, so I did not document much of the process. I made mistakes but managed to do the front of the drawers all right. Nice! The colors were working. But when I got to work on the front of the door, things went 🙈. The original idea did not work, and the front panel gave more contrast than needed. It would have worked in another context, but in here, it would look too rustic and not elegant. I didn't dwell on it; it was the risk I decided to take.
Instead, I devoted myself to doing the most outstanding job with what I had. I still needed a surprise, so I added one more brass line to the door to match the rails in the nook. For the drawers, I decided to go with maple on the insides to give it a good contrast. The door has all the engineering that comes with European hinges, with their soft close and opening mechanisms. The drawers slide smoothly without any sophistication—no rails, no slides, just precision cuts and wax.
Installation was a breeze. That cabinet is solid and can hold some weight.The Owl will receive every visitor to this house with its enigmatic smile and its beautiful gold and chocolate mix.
This is the first thing you see when you enter the house. It sets the tone. It welcomes you. It's a mix of gold and chocolate, soft and sturdy, functional and pretty. We are happy campers with the result. 🏠✨🍫
