A machine made of light

We built Myriad Light around a single idea: warmth is a colour. Dozens of small discs, each lined by hand with metal leaf, hang at different heights on slender rods. Together they catch the light and return it softened, broken into a hundred quiet reflections.

The discs are the heart of the piece. Gold, silver or copper leaf is laid onto each one, so no two behave quite the same. Light passes through them indirectly — never straight into the eye, always folded, refracted, given back. What fills the room is a glow, warm as firelight and gentle as dusk.

Every leaf is applied by hand, every rod set by hand. The form feels less manufactured than grown: a cloud, a constellation. Almost nothing, made of light.