
A Parisian rooftop apartment, reimagined as a carioca sanctuary.
A journal de bord, after Coelho's Alchemist · a single place travelled by projection rather than memory, widening the options of the past to draw a better future.
The sanctuary · Solange, Rio, mineral light, set like the alchemist's quest.
Turn this apartment under the rooftops into a contemplative, musical refuge · Brazilian modernism, French mid-century grace, the spirit of Solange's When I Get Home, bathed in amber light.
Warm materials, few pieces, plenty of emptiness.
Walnut, leather, stone · the sculptural seat.
Listening at the heart of the home: Juno-X, amp, speakers.
Making Homes, here and there · then gathering them, here.
Solange's When I Get Home was born from a reunion, and from a life of moves rooted on Réunion Island · a melting pot that echoed everywhere, from the Basque Country to AlUla. Hence the eclecticism, in the spirit of the Habitas sanctuaries: played like a score for a many-sided refuge, as sensual as it is plural, yet in balance.

A villa that sings, perched above the city.
The north star: a modernist villa in Santa Teresa · precious Brazilian wood, a music studio, a view over the bay. We carry its bar-like conviviality up under the Paris rooftops.

Four references, held together.
A mineral, warm register · the only colour in the dossier lives in the materials.
Sofa & rug
Area Tokyo · console
Coffee table
Bathroom
Tadelakt · spa
Accent
Music
One place, travelled by projection · the apartment, the verrière, the bath.

One volume under the roof, read in four zones.
The large volume under the roof: listening, lounge, dining. Ceiling up to 3.50 m.
Glazed bay to the south-east, by the lift · the future dining corner, open to the balcony.
The future « Red Hours Spa »: shower, travertine, amber light.
Arranged around the living room, with a direct lift.

The large volume under the roof · light, structure, use.
Roof windows to the north · soft and constant, ideal for listening and naps.
Glazed bay by the lift, black steel posts · structure to celebrate, not hide.

Reading the volume · light, steel, use.
Roof windows due north · soft, constant light for listening and naps.
Glazed bay and black steel posts by the lift · the loft's carioca frame, revealed.
The brightest corner hosts the dining nook, lit by the Hashirama lamp.
Option A dressed in Nichibei honeycomb blinds · soft, filtered light and quiet thermal insulation. One volume, three tones to weigh.

A verdant, carioca calm, echoing the Guariche greens and the planting beyond the glass.

Soft, luminous and calming: a timeless, wabi-sabi naturalness.

A more hushed, enveloping elegance: a pronounced, sophisticated mineral register.
A revitalising mineral cocoon · terracotta tadelakt, travertine, amber light. Indirect niches glowing from within.

Barely a few square metres · a cell, not a room to cross.
An enveloping cell · a threshold for rebirth, not a corridor.
Travertine, terracotta tadelakt and wood, glowing under a low 2200 K light.
The « Red Hours » spa · a slow, restorative pause between city and sanctuary.

The bathroom realised · same footprint, every fitting placed.
Terracotta tadelakt walls, a smoked-glass screen, an integrated niche for products.
A one-off organic form on a travertine top, with aged-brass vintage taps.
Closed walnut cabinet, an open shelf above the WC, a towel shelf under the vanity.
Fire, water, stone and light · the primal matters of a kitchen, worked by hand, never by screen. The room where recipes become the memories a table is built on.
Three gestures · fire, water, prep. Conceived as a ritual, not a showroom.
Cooking, heat, coffee · cooktop on the back wall. Rosso Levanto splashback.
Washing, rinsing · sink under the skylight, right wall. Travertine Silver top.
Prepare, cut, plate · on the worktop below the sink. Travertine top.
Drawn to the centimetre from the dimensioned plan · back wall 246 cm, sloped ceiling at right (168 → 246) where the skylight sits.
Elevations drawn to the centimetre from the dimensioned plan · back 246, left return 207, right run 315, ceiling 250, slope 168 → 246.

No screens. Only matter, fire and water, worked by hand. The room where dinners run long and loud, alive with laughter, taste and the cultures that shaped them.
The same gestures, two grades of matter · the budget route swaps the costly stones for honest look-alikes, the recommended route keeps the real thing.
What stays · all signed: Guariche, Area Tokyo, Habitat.

Swivel armchairs in two greens · sage and olive · on a cantilevered chrome base. French mid-century grace; the heart of the living room, kept, setting the forest-green tone.


Lounge + ottoman and an armchair, in solid walnut and black leather · the Japanese-Danish line, sculptural and warm. The project's Brazilian-Scandinavian thread.




The round oxblood dining table and the cream & brass coffee table, already here. A rosewood, brass and cane bedside. And, wished-for, a marble & aluminium side table.




The listening corner · Roland Juno-X, a vintage Scott amplifier and JBL L52 speakers. And Area Tokyo’s Hashirama lamp: a washi-paper sphere, soon by the verrière.
An eye, not a shopping list. Objects gathered slowly · carioca warmth, Japanese restraint, hand-made glass and ceramic.
Solange · When I Get Home
Carioca villa · wood & leather« A warm stone that breathes · wood, leather, vinyl, low light. »
Four tones to ground the room · bouclé wool, woven to order.
Tisca · Codimat
Codimat · Cogolin
Toulemonde Bochart
Tisca · Chevalier

Chez Georges, Rio. The reference world · carioca modernism, rosewood, coloured glass against raw concrete. The ground every choice answers to.
Beyond the core rooms, a longlist of objects held in the eye · gathered slowly.


The table is already set · glass, porcelain and silver gathered over time. The ground the evenings rest on.
A room composed · texture, absorption, the keyboard.
The confirmation came with Solange · listening to Weary and Rise in Wynwood, 2016, my draw to music finally made sense.
A Seat at the Table · Wynwood, Miami · 2016
My ear was formed at home, in the music my parents played through the whole house · Sade, Pink Floyd, American R&B and rap, and the classics my mother kept close: Vivaldi's Four Seasons, Bach, Debussy's Clair de lune.
Then pop culture won · a taste for the star-system and its serigraphy, a pop-art eye carried into a fine-arts baccalaureate. The keyboard followed, as evidence: a tool to shape musical textures in resonance with these rooms.
Lady Gaga's Mayhem lands at a moment that resonates; but When I Get Home remains. Closer still: Kaytranada's Timeless, and PinkPantheress's A Girl like Me.
The instrument · five pieces chosen to shape the room, gathered like the rest.


The instrument, placed in the plan.
Synth, amp and speakers gathered by the warm north light · sit, play, listen.
Tucked from the path so the room stays calm and the cables stay hidden.
The high verrière ceiling opens the sound; the wool carpet tames it.
This dossier began as a misunderstanding. For a year I sat across from a profession that guarded its own language, reluctant to translate it, to adapt, to meet anyone halfway. So I stopped waiting to be let in, and set out to tell it myself.
What had been a year of friction became a place to reveal a person · my sensibilities, my most intimate interests, set down in matter, colour and rhythm. The same way I have always found myself in the music I love and the food I cook.
Solange said her album was an attempt to build universes and homes, because she was always on the road. This dossier is an extension of that same intention · like her, I have gathered the fragments of home, and of myself, scattered across the world, and made a single place of them. A space that tells not one story but many · complex, rich and plural, the rhythm that has shaped this project, and my life so far.
Through the flourish that some hide behind, I came to the pure essence of the craft · and so, now, this medium is mine.
