In Porto, a private home came to us with one request: a single light for the entrance hall, able to hold two floors together. The hall rises past a pale stone stair, its walls bare plaster, quiet by day and hollow after dark. The family wanted warmth there. They wanted the space to feel inhabited.

We built a custom Aurelia chandelier for that void. It hangs at the centre of the stairwell, a slow constellation of discs, each one lined by hand with gold leaf. By day the leaf borrows from the windows; by night it returns the light warmer, softer, spread wide across the plaster. The piece grew out of our Golden Lights collection and keeps its oldest habits: metal, leaf, patience.

A light that follows the stair

The chandelier sits low enough to be seen from the landing, high enough to leave the floor clear. Walking up, you pass through its glow in stages: a ring of gold on the wall, then the discs themselves, then a pale pool of light waiting on the stone below. Its scale was drawn around this ascent. Nothing else in the hall competes with it.

The house is finished now, and the light has its own routine. Bright for dinners, dimmed for late evenings, sometimes left burning alone. Almost a small moon, kept indoors.