Amsterdam hands you a particular kind of dusk. For weeks in late spring the sun stays low above the water, and the canals give it back to the facades in slow moving sheets. Two private terraces sit above that reflection, and the ask was quiet: keep the dark, and make it habitable.

Two terraces above the water

On the upper level we set the Medusa Outdoor pieces low against the decking — hand-shaped glass spheres that hold their filament like a small held breath, and shallow hemispheres carried on brass rods close to the wall. The glass is thick enough to soften the source, so each piece reads as form first and lamp second. Everything stays below eye level, which is where a terrace wants its light.

The lower terrace belongs to the More Outdoor family. A hand-shaped glass pendant hangs from the pergola beam above the long table, and beside it a small amber table light that can be lifted and set down wherever the evening moves. At the outer edge a sphere stands on a slender steel stem, marking the step down without announcing itself. All of it runs at one warm temperature, so the inner stair never asks the eye to relearn the space.

Water does half the work here. The rest is restraint.