Six essays on material: what things are made of and what that communicates before anyone has spoken. Stone underfoot, brass at the door, linen on the bed. The surface that improves over decades and the one that peaks on opening day. The weight of an object in the hand. And the wall that was never painted, which turns out to say more than the one that was.

Material is the first argument a room makes about what it values, and it makes that argument before anyone has opened their mouth.
Read essay →
Hardware is the detail that dates a room fastest and endures longest when the choice was made for the right reason.
Read essay →
Touch is the sense photography cannot carry. But the decision to use linen rather than polyester is visible in the image anyway.
Read essay →
Some materials improve with age. Others degrade. The distinction between them is one of the most reliable tests of whether the original material decision was made seriously.
Read essay →
The first signal of quality in any object is its weight. This signal arrives before the object has been examined, before it has been used.
Read essay →
Paint is the material decision that looks least like a material decision. It is the last thing applied and the first thing seen.
Read essay →