Located on Cadogan Gardens in Chelsea, Meat the Fish is a new London restaurant that impresses as much by its Mediter-Asian gastronomic offerings as its artfully designed and beautifully crafted interiors.
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In the heart of Rome’s lively Pigneto district, Casa Buondelmonti stands as proof that color can lead to a powerful transformation, courtesy of Italian architecture and interior design firm 02A studio. Architects Marco Rulli and Thomas Grossi infused the quaint villa, originally built in the early 20th century, with a sense of joie de vivre. But this project came with its own unique twist – one of the clients was color blind. Undeterred, the studio embraced the challenge, crafting a space where vibrant hues lived harmoniously with minimal graphics to create an atmosphere that is both refined and refreshingly whimsical.
Stepping into Casa Buondelmonti, one is greeted by a kaleidoscope of colors that immediately sets the tone for the entire abode. From the bold blue beams that accentuate the living area to the playful pops of yellow adorning the kitchen, every corner exudes a sense of joy. The kitchen itself, with its green cabinets and fun, origami-inspired yellow appliance details, turns mundane objects into works of art.
“We spoke at length with the clients retracing their history, the houses they had lived in and the ones they had loved, so as to get as close as possible to the way of life and taste that they were seeking, to then translate them into an interior project that felt truly personal,” says Marco Rulli, founder of the studio with Thomas Grossi.
Have you ever seen a yellow triangular vent hood? Me either and it’s quite refreshing, especially with it matching the tile.
A yellow-framed window opens up sight views and light passing through between the entryway and the kitchen.
Up the stairs under a yellow arched ceiling, the second floor houses additional bedrooms, a study, and another bathroom. The bright yellow doesn’t stop on the ceiling – it continues down the hallway to a bathroom with two arched alcoves that house the sink and shower separately.
The ground floor guest bathroom is wrapped in tropical vegetation tiles that complement the rectangular green sink.
02A studio co-founders Marco Rulli and Thomas Grossi
Photography by Paolo Fusco.
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Phil Baines, who has died aged 65 of multiple system atrophy, was one of the most distinctive voices in contemporary British graphic design. His work included books, posters, art catalogues and lettering for three important London monuments – the memorial to the Indian Ocean tsunami in the grounds of the Natural History Museum and the 7 July memorials in Hyde Park and Tavistock Square, commemorating the victims of the 2005 London bombings. These projects point to Baines’s defining attributes: a scholarly appreciation of letterforms, a deep-rooted respect for materials and a love of collaboration.
Such attributes can also be seen in Baines’s cover designs for the Penguin Great Ideas series (2004-20), works by “great thinkers, pioneers, radicals and visionaries” that gave him a canvas on which to display his typographic philosophy. The Saint Augustine – Confessions of a Sinner cover, for instance, uses ancient ecclesiastical letterforms and yet looks superbly modern. For Chuang Tzu — The Tao of Nature, Baines arranged letters to suggest a butterfly in flight. David Pearson, one of two art directors for the series, described how his “often-oblique approach gave the series a crucial added dimension”.
Born in Kendal, Cumbria, Phil was one of the three children of Martin Baines, a construction contract manager, and Joan (nee Quarmby), a horticulturalist. Growing up in a Roman Catholic household, he began studies for the priesthood at Ushaw College, County Durham. During the holidays from Ushaw he worked at the Guild of Lakeland Craftsmen, Windermere, and from there his interest and confidence in art grew.
At the start of his fourth year, he quit Ushaw, and in 1980 began a year’s study on the foundation course at Cumbria College of Art and Design. In 1982 he moved to London and enrolled on the graphic design course at St Martin’s School of Art (now Central Saint Martins), where he met Jackie Warner, whom he married in 1989, and where he was among a talented cohort, many of whom went on to study, as he did, at the Royal College of Art.
Richard Doust, then leader of the first-year course at St Martins, recalled the portfolio Baines submitted for admission: “I was so excited … I was sure he was going to be someone very special. He quickly established his individuality. He made typography and particularly letterpress his own territory.”
Baines was fiercely individual – he did not join schools of thought or align himself with fashionable camps. Instead, he built a creative practice based on his belief in the “humanist” qualities of the English typographic tradition.
His contemporaries were using the computer to bring a new complexity to graphic communication. Smart software allowed for the overlapping and interweaving of text in ways that echoed the ecclesiastical manuscripts that Baines admired so much. He was no Luddite, and used the computer himself, yet his work invariably retained an element of the handmade.
Paradoxically, his work was greatly admired by the new generation of digital designers. Neville Brody, for instance, included Baines’s work in his experimental typography publication FUSE, produced to demonstrate the malleability of the new digital typography. Baines’s work does not look out of place among the other contributors, many of them American typography radicals whose multi-layered layouts were driven by modish theories of deconstruction and poststructuralism.
In 1988 he returned to Central Saint Martins (CSM), as part of the faculty. In staff meetings his willingness to say the unsayable was a frequent cause for consternation among colleagues. To his students he preached a doctrine of “object-based learning”, a typically contrarian notion in the age of screen-based and virtual graphic design. He was appointed a professor in 2006 and retired in 2020 as emeritus professor.
Despite his commitment to teaching, Baines did not give up his work for clients. As well as designing books for leading publishers, he worked for the Crafts Council and the Ditchling Museum of Art + Craft, and designed the signage for CSM’s King’s Cross campus. He designed exhibition catalogues for Matt’s Gallery, south-west London, relishing the creative three-way collaboration that existed between the gallery’s director, Robin Klassnik, exhibiting artists and himself.
He wrote books that contributed to the understanding of visual communication: Type & Typography (with Andrew Haslam, 2002), Signs: Lettering in the Environment (with Catherine Dixon, 2003) and Penguin by Design: A Cover Story 1935-2005 (2005), the last of which helped establish Penguin cover art as one of the most important bodies of graphic art in British design history.
With Dixon, he co-curated the Central Lettering Record, an archive of typographic history housed at CSM, and in November 2023 his work was celebrated in an exhibition, Extol: Phil Baines Celebrating Letters, at the Lethaby gallery, CSM. He was appointed as the Royal Mint advisory committee’s lettering expert in 2016, and reappointed in 2021 to advise on the integration of lettering on new coins and medals, with consideration given to special issues and the accession of King Charles to the throne. For this work, in 2023 he was awarded the Coronation medal.
Baines was an enthusiastic runner and cyclist, and loved music, especially the Manchester post-punk band the Fall. He was a collector of signs, lettering, and railwayana, and built his own studios at his home in Willesden Green, north-west London. A few years before his retirement he moved to Great Paxton, Cambridgeshire, where he took up bellringing.
He is survived by Jackie and their two daughters, Beth and Felicity, and by his father.
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Among the most common entry points to cartophilia are representations of where the collectors have set foot in real life. For New Yorkers willing to spend, say, about $280,000 on a 1770s map of the city, they can study how “Brookland Parish” has lost all traces of its pastoral roots yet maintained Colonial-era place names like Red Hook and Flatbush.
“There’s so much that’s recognizable, yet there’s so much that’s different, it just sucks you in,” said Matthew Edney, a professor of geography specializing in the history of cartography at the University of Southern Maine, affiliated with the university’s Osher Map Library and Smith Center for Cartographic Education. He added that at times, “the past is a foreign country.”
J. C. McElveen, a retired lawyer in Maryland who owns about 1,400 maps dating back to the 16th century, said that one of his treasures is only a few years old. His wife, Mary, made him a personalized map out of modern maps, showing where they have lived and traveled for decades. “You look at those,” he said, “and memories are triggered.”
Tania Rossetto, a professor of cultural geography at the University of Padua, keeps a contemporary map of Italy on her children’s bedroom wall. It serves, she said, as “a meeting place where our fingers trace memories and dreams of family trips made, and to be made.”
Dennis M. Gurtz, a financial planner in suburban Maryland who owns about 1,000 maps dating to the 1590s, warns that collections can start deceptively small. But then, after perhaps three purchases, the “old map pox” kicks in, and the shopping sprees begin. “Be very careful,” he said. Severe cartophilia is diagnosable when wall space runs out and the buyers start squirreling away maps in storage. That moment is “a vital inflection point,” said Michael Buehler, the founder of Boston Rare Maps.
Svenskt Tenn’s new cabinet, sheathed in the 1870s map of Stockholm, pays homage to the wanderlust of the company’s leaders. Ms. Ericson and her husband, Sigfrid, a sea captain, globe trotted for design inspiration while bringing home souvenirs, including antique maps. Mr. Frank and his Finnish-born wife, Anna, settled in Sweden after escaping from Nazi persecution in Vienna and also spent years in New York. Mr. Ahlden, Svenskt Tenn’s curator, said that Ms. Ericson liked to paraphrase a quote from Saint Augustine: “The world is a book, and those who stay home are reading only one page.”
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Moreno 2681, designed by palca estudio, stands as a mixed-use building in Balvanera, a central Buenos Aires neighborhood marked by a diverse architectural landscape and cultural blend. Commissioned to establish a distinctive institutional identity, Moreno 2681 seamlessly integrates administrative offices with temporary residences. The transparent glass facade, a fundamental aspect of the initial brief, embodies a symbolic connection to the cityscape.
Initially considering a unified block for work and living spaces, practical considerations led to a thoughtful division into two independent blocks. The front hosts offices, engaging with the bustling street, while the residential block enjoys a quieter, more secluded atmosphere at the rear.
Respecting the non-buildable area mandated by city regulations, the structure gracefully conforms to its designated silhouette. The resulting dual-block structure optimizes available space while complying with urban guidelines. A central void, adorned with organic landscaping, white stones, and growing vegetation, serves as a communal hub linking the two blocks. Designed with gathering spaces in mind, the garden fosters interaction among building occupants.
all images by Javier Agustin Rojas
The office block, spanning four levels, embraces open layouts adaptable to evolving work dynamics. Balconies and terraces on each floor blur indoor-outdoor boundaries. The residential segment, comprises stacked duplex apartments, each operating as an individual unit designed with the minimum elements necessary to be temporarily inhabited.
Navigating Argentina’s intricate economic landscape, Moreno 2681 prioritizes efficiency and durability in construction. Utilizing reinforced concrete, lightweight masonry, textured white anodized aluminum frames in the windows, and airtight double glazing, the design ensures longevity, thermal efficiency, and ease of maintenance.
Against the backdrop of Balvanera’s eclectic urban fabric, Moreno 2681 by palca estudio stands out with its synthesis as contrast. Pure lines, geometric composition, and a predominance of white elements communicate order and timelessness in response to the surrounding complexity.
Moreno 2681 by palca estudio seamlessly integrates administrative offices and temporary residences
the transparent glass facade symbolically connects Moreno 2681 to the vibrant cityscape
the building splits into two blocks—a front-facing office space and a quieter residential block at the rear
the dual-block structure optimizes space while complying with urban guidelines
a central void, adorned with organic landscaping, serves as a communal hub, fostering interactions
balconies and terraces on each floor blur indoor-outdoor boundaries, creating versatile and engaging spaces
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Having to contend with a narrow street façade, the architectural team came up with an eye-catching gesture to draw people in. A sculptural concrete portal frames a large glass opening dominated by a full-height copper sliding door. Comprising a patchwork of 175 oxidized copper squares, manually assembled to create a unique grid pattern inspired by the brand’s name, the door creates a visually striking contrast in relation to the rugged, abstractly-shape concrete portal.
Upon entering, visitors are greeted by a monolithic counter extending from the front to the back, dividing the space into customer and staff areas. Slighting angled, it also separates the ordering and serving zones. Cast-in-situ from a cement and coffee bean aggregate, its uniquely spotted finish is a nod to the brand’s commitment to single-origin coffee. The counter’s sculptural sensibility extends to the entire space which is predominantly enveloped in polished concrete surfaces. Hand-cast, striated concrete wall sections add contrast while elm wood wall elements that function as coffee cup stands and backrests add warmth.
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When Ruth Warder, CEO of global communications firm Edelman UK and EMEA Brand Chair, came across an old warehouse from the 1900s, she knew it was the ideal home for the company to grow. “We knew it was the perfect blank canvas to bring to life the vision we had for a post-pandemic workplace,” she shares. Working with Gensler, that vision became a reality – one that occupies 45,000 square feet, eight mezzanines, and five floors. The new headquarters, named Francis House, was designed to be more than just a place to work. It’s a vibrant hub for inspiring creativity, fostering collaboration, and cultivating meaningful connections between employees along with their clients.
Natural light beams in from the double-height windows. Communal stations allow for focused work and neighborly connections.
Bar and lounge seating help support employees’ changing preferences throughout the day.
To expand the original 35,000-square-foot building by 10,000 square feet, the design team created five new mezzanines and five new staircases. These additional levels offer integrated functional spaces for formal meetings, impromptu collaboration, and heads-down solo work. Vintage furniture and reused pieces from the firm’s previous workplace create an eclectic yet contemporary aesthetic while reaffirming Gensler’s and Edelman’s commitment to sustainability. Additionally, there are over 700 seats with 24 different seating typologies to support Edelman UK’s 700+ employees and their different work styles. From stress-relieving game rooms to serene spaces for focused work, Francis House caters to the varying modes of productivity and fluctuations in energy one may have during a full day’s work.
A vine-like canopy of plants adds a biophilic element to the light-diffused ceiling.
Stools create a more casual atmosphere for connecting and collaborating.
Within the office, an entire floor serves Edelman’s clients, whether they are there for a visit or just to work. This kind of client support emphasizes Edelman’s commitment to delivering exceptional service and fostering lasting relationships. “As creative companies worldwide seek to redefine the purpose of their offices, Francis House is the destination that embodies all the attributes of a workplace of the future – ushering in a new era which brings employees and clients together in a collaborative and sustainable environment that celebrates individuality and culture-building,” reaffirms Carlos Posado, Principal at Gensler.
A console for showcasing various objects doubles as a room divider, visually marking but not enclosing a lounge space.
An extra-long island offers ample seating in the open kitchen.
As the workplace landscape continues to evolve, Francis House is a prime example of the power of thoughtful design in shaping the future of work. By embracing flexibility, sustainability, and innovation, Edelman’s London office sets a new standard for workplace excellence and creativity.
Curtains aid in flexibility, offering a temporary enclosed space for meetings and presentations.
The space can also accommodate larger crowds.
This particular area with its presentation screens and various seats can quickly adapt for events and larger meetings.
Photography by Vigo Jansons.
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The Department of Veteran Affairs has walked back a memo that banned the iconic VJ Day in Times Square photograph from its facilities.
The VA secretary, Denis McDonough, announced the reversal of the memo on X (formerly Twitter), only hours after it began circulating online.
In a statement posted alongside the photo, which shows a navy sailor kissing a woman in New York’s Times Square, McDonough said: “Let me be clear: This image is not banned from VA facilities – and we will keep it in VA facilities.”
A spokesperson for the department told the Guardian that the photo remains in VA facilities. The spokesperson added that the memo was sent out inadvertently and had been “rescinded”.
Backlash surrounding the memo was even addressed by the White House. The press secretary, Karine Jean-Pierre, confirmed during a Tuesday press briefing that the VA would not be banning the photograph.
“I can definitely say that the memo was not sanctioned, and so it’s not something that we were even aware of,” she said, the Associated Press reported.
The 29 February memo, titled Removal and Replacement of V-J Day in Times Square Photographs, ordered the photograph’s removal to maintain a “safe, respectful, and trauma-informed environment”.
The memo argued that the photo “depicts a non-consensual act” and did not meet the agency’s no-tolerance policy around sexual harassment and assault.
The memo was written by RimaAnn O Nelson, the department’s assistant undersecretary for health for operations.
News of the photo’s proposed removal created a firestorm online among staunch critics of “wokeness”. Some denounced the decision as an affront to those who served in the second world war.
The photograph, widely known as The Kiss, was taken on 14 August 1945, the day that Japan surrendered to the United States.
The woman captured in the photograph, Greta Friedman, was working as a dental assistant at the time when sailor George Mendonsa grabbed and kissed her.
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Friedman has publicly said that she was not aware that Mendosa was going to kiss her.
“I did not see him approaching, and before I know it I was in this vice grip,” Friedman said to CBS News in 2012.
But Friedman has also shared more positive reactions to the famous image.
“It was a wonderful coincidence, a man in a sailor’s uniform and a woman in a white dress … and a great photographer at the right time,” she said in a 2005 interview with the Library of Congress Veterans History Project.
Friedman died in 2016 at the age of 92.
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Midway through “A Revolution on Canvas,” one of the documentary’s directors, Sara Nodjoumi, receives a warning from a friend. She and her father, the painter Nikzad Nodjoumi (commonly known as Nicky) have been trying to discover if his paintings — left behind at the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art when he fled Iran in 1980 — are still in the basement archives of the museum. By video chat, a friend counsels caution. “It’s just a film,” he says. “You don’t want to risk your life.”
That’s not hyperbole. An element of danger hangs over “A Revolution on Canvas,” which Sara directed with her husband, Till Schauder. The film’s goal is to locate Sara’s father’s paintings and, hopefully, bring the work to the United States, where father and daughter both live. But the political situation that drove her father away from his homeland and from his protest paintings puts their quest, and anyone who helps them in it, in danger.
Nicky Nodjoumi moved to New York in the 1960s, arriving after the artist Nahid Hagigat, whom he’d met as a student in Tehran and who would become his wife. Yet Nicky returned to Tehran in the late 1970s, feeling a pull to criticize the reign of the Shah through his art. It’s remarkable work, blending pop art techniques, classical Persian painting, illustration and a bold vision for criticizing not just the Shah but all kinds of ideologies. Seeing his art — which is sprinkled liberally throughout the film — makes it clear why he was a figure of danger in Iran.
A few stories battle for attention in “A Revolution on Canvas”: Sara’s family history, Iran’s political history and the search for Nicky’s lost paintings. The braiding of these can be bumpy, and a little frustrating. It’s not always clear why we’re jumping from one strand to the next.
Yet each strand on its own is fascinating. The film ably explains the history of midcentury Iran before the revolution through the stories of Sara’s parents, and in particular her father’s solo show at the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art just after the Iranian revolution. The threats he and the museum received were the impetus for his return to New York, without his paintings. He and Hagigat split up years later, but their time together was filled with activism, child-rearing and art.
Sara’s conversations with her parents about their lives and their relationship pulls focus repeatedly from the ongoing quest to reclaim the artwork, and at times, this can be frustrating. Yet it’s necessary, given that Sara’s calls (some of which are redacted) to contacts in Tehran often end in what feel like dead ends. Nearly everyone is afraid to say too much and risk their own livelihoods or, they seem to think, their lives. It’s not at all clear what will happen, but as with most investigations, it requires a lot of sitting around and waiting for people to call back. The more personal and historical strands are left to pick up the pace.
The strongest parts of “A Revolution on Canvas” don’t really deal with the hunt for the art at all — they’re the frank admissions from Sara’s parents about the joys and difficulties of building a life around art and activism. When Sara asks her father if he missed her when he returned to Tehran to protest the Shah, he bluntly says, “No.” Art came first. Later, her mother becomes so emotional when her daughter recounts a memory that she has to walk out of frame. It’s often said that the personal is political, and for Nodjoumi’s parents, both the personal and the political are wound inextricably with their art. But that leads to both hurt and compromises, and sometimes it takes the distance of years to realize what the picture you’ve spent your life painting really means.
A Revolution on Canvas
Not rated. Running time: 1 hour 35 minutes. Watch on Max.
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A blast from the past is what Mehdi Rustamov aka dimexart brings as he stacks up LEGO bricks and creates a vintage radio that can play any music using a smartphone and its voice assistant. The designer captures the retro look of a vintage radio, from its volume knobs to keypads, all of them functional. The vintage radio model is made up of 1,130 LEGO pieces, and at the beginning, dimexart only made an object version of the retro-styled radio. In January 2024, he modified the rear part to crack it open like a cassette player, allowing users to slide in their smartphones, ask their voice assistants to play any music, and make the vintage radio fully functional.
images courtesy of Mehdi Rustamov aka dimexart
Aside from the working knobs and volume keypads, Mehdi Rustamov aka dimexart spent his time designing the front speaker grill, which is one of his favorite parts of the LEGO vintage radio. He also made sure that the working knobs with the moving red pointer behind the glass would move and created cog wheel tuners inside the vintage radio so that when the user spins the front parts, the red pointer swings back and forth. For the designer, he can picture the user placing the LEGO vintage radio on their shelf, table, or mantel, serenading them as they go about their daily tasks, all the while playing their favorite music in the background.
a blast from the past is what Mehdi Rustamov aka dimexart brings as he stacks up LEGO bricks for the vintage radio
It took Mehdi Rustamov aka dimexart about a month to create the main body of his LEGO vintage radio and make its knobs and volume keypads work. It wasn’t challenging for him to choose a retro radio as his design since he’s a fan of all things vintage. But this specific design also brought back fond memories of him from his childhood, especially the one where his grandfather would listen to the radio that resembles the LEGO version he created. Looking back, he was enamored by its shape, buttons, and knobs, and knew that he wanted to recreate that vintage radio when he began a new LEGO project. Today, he has brought his vision to life, making it functional as well. As of publishing the story, his LEGO vintage radio is up for support on Ideas LEGO.
the LEGO vintage radio can play any music using a smartphone and its voice assistant
users put their smartphones at the dedicated slot located at the back of the LEGO vintage radio
dimexart’s LEGO vintage radio has working knobs, volume keypads, and moving red pointer
dimexart’s vintage radio model is made up of 1,130 LEGO pieces
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Separated by a shared kitchen, each of the two restaurants has a distinct character. OKA, which translates as ‘house’ in Tupi-Guarani, an ancient language once spoken in Rego's hometown of Rio de Janeiro, is an intimate, dinner-only space with just 16 covers, where guests embark on a gastronomic journey along two great Brazilian rivers with the seven-course "Amazonia" and five-course "Paraná" tasting menus. FOGO, meaning ‘fire’, is a more relaxed, 40-seat dining room with an adjoining bar and grill, open for lunch and dinner serving a soulful menu of fire-grilled dishes in the spirit of Brazil’s herdsmen, or gauchos. For intimate occasions, there is also an alcove seating up to six guests, as well as a cellar-like tasting room with more than 5,000 wine and champagne references.
Behzadi’s skillful partnering of exotic woods and luxurious stones begins with the double venue’s facade, where panels of Jatoba wood from the Amazon sit above a plinth of striated Iranian marble. The warm hues of wood extend throughout the interiors of both restaurants, seen in wall paneling and built-in furnishings, which are beautifully complemented by white travertine and green-toned marble. The addition of rattan cane, brown leather and plush fabrics further enriches the texture of the design, while chairs by the late Brazilian designer Sergio Rodrigues infuse the space with an essence of Brazilian modernism.
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