The brief began with water. A private home on the docklands, its long windows turned to the basin, wanted light that could stand up to the grey glare coming off the harbour. Daylight here is broad and cool. Anything we brought into the rooms had to warm it, not argue with it.

Pleated light, room by room

Above the dining table hangs one of the PostCrissi pleats, its hand-folded fibreglass shade fringing the light into soft ribs along the wall. The same family returns in the sitting room as a low ceiling piece, folded close to the plaster so the room keeps its height. Through the corridor we set the shades in a line, and the ribbed shadows repeat down the passage like moored masts seen from a window.

Finishes stayed quiet: white outside, gold leaf within, so each shade gives back a warm inner glow while the room reads only pale form. Dimmed low, the pleats behave as sculpture. Turned up, they light a long table without one hard edge anywhere in the space.

We left the walls bare and let the shades carry the ornament. The light stays, folding water and room together. That was the whole of it.