Inspired by harmony, typical of the period of Scandinavian functionalism, the composition is grounded in the typical alternation of the rhythm of life. Light and dark colours become day and night, the tonalities of bark and natural, freshly cut wood. The light sliding between one line and another is like the pianism of Glenn Gould, soft and full of accents as well as nuances. Classica. Its prosody merges with that of the architecture that contains it.

Eclectic and brimming with history; current and fresh. A vertical line crosses lighter, horizontal lines, just like in a comb, becoming a fabric, regularly repeating itself, enveloping the room. The ambience, inspired by the refined interiors of Carlo Mollino, welcomes it, like a warm, sovereign embrace.

The waters of Flemish ports reflect off home colours, from filiform contours with alternating colours. The longest shadow crosses light, shorter yet repeated colours. Just like in an urban fabric, concentration and breath alternate, like in accordion music, compressions and dilations merge. Brevity and length are not opposite elements, but fluid elements of the same thing.

The patterns, fabrics and rugs of Anni Albers constitute the formal matrix of the composition. The yarns have been replaced by wood pieces which are thin, broad, vast and small, as though the room has become a huge canvass, surrounded by the colours and atmospheres of Provence, as though in an impressionist painting, the rhythm of nature that changes when captured on a background, which becomes a spontaneous sequence.

Jazz, the alteration of white and black keys on the same keyboard. The hands of Thelonious Monk, playing the notes of Duke Ellington. A surface becomes music, with a syncopated rhythm that rediscovers harmony. Fulls and voids alternate, stripped of all positivity and negativity. Wood becomes energy.

“Architecture is a language and the best architects are like poets”, Mies said. Nature is poetry, it is spontaneous architecture, like the rhythm of this composition, which is regular and full of harmony. It is almost as though you are in a broad, tree-line boulevard which magically leads towards a fulcrum, typical of the architectonic signs of a time when detail was blended in a balanced way.

It appears symmetrical yet it is not, it feels like an infinitely repeated rhythm, as though in a mirror, which reflects perfect symmetry. In reality, nature is an alternation, apparently symmetrical, like a leaf, like a tree. If you come close, you notice that asymmetry is perfect, just as it is. A thin, long line pursues a shorter rope that is just as dark. Inside, it carries alternate strokes in compositions set at right angles to each other, which are complementary.

This is what spring in blossom is like. Delicate, explosive and silent. Full of energy and peace, like a zen garden. Oriental courtesy, attention to detail, near perfection. Rhythm becomes ritual. The dark sign is interwoven with light ones in a balanced way. Rebirth.