The apartment sits on an upper floor of a city block, where daylight arrives sideways and never stays long. Three rooms in a row, plaster walls, a corridor that ends in a window. What the owners asked for was modest: light that would let the rooms read as one space after dark, and never announce itself.

Light kept close to the surfaces

Over the dining table we hung a Juno chandelier from our Jacqueline collection, nine hand-coiled nickel curls cradling small glass lenses, each dropping a pool of warm direct light onto the wood. The blue textile cables are left visible, so the fixture reads as a line drawn across the ceiling. In the corridor we chose a Petite Prism from our Petites series: bare brass rings in a slow wave, sending light straight down to the floor and leaving the walls in shadow.

The two do different jobs. A bright floor makes a narrow corridor feel shorter; a dark ceiling makes a low room feel taller. Everything here dims to a third of its output in the evening, and the untreated brass will quietly take on the colour of the room over the years. Nothing lacquered, nothing hidden.

A small apartment, and a small number of lamps. That was enough.