The house sits above Innsbruck, where the winter light comes in low and blue and stays only a few hours. Long runs of timber and stone, wide glass on the valley side, and a quiet that asks for very little. What the rooms needed was light that behaves the way it does outside: fall where it is wanted, then withdraw.

Three families, one temperature

We began with the Ledram discs. Flat aluminium, barely deeper than a hand, set along the corridor and the stair, where a ceiling fitting would have eaten the low timber soffit. Their warm LED washes straight down the wall and stops there — enough to walk by, never enough to glare. In the double-height living room the Stella Moon hemispheres take over: leafed by hand inside, they keep their light and let the wall do the glowing. After dusk they read as a small cluster of moons above the hearth, which is close to the effect we were after.

Over the long dining table the Arbor arms were bent on site, one at a time, until every point of light landed on the table and nowhere else. Brass against dark oak. Because the arms hold the shape you give them, a reading light can be swung toward a chair, or the whole cluster folded low for a long evening, and the room rearranges itself around the gesture.

So the house dims with the mountain. Warm light kept close to the surfaces, dark left dark, and no fitting that insists on being looked at. Light, and the space it leaves.