The Studio

A column is the oldest architectural element in existence. Talaia borrows its logic — standing tall, standing together, marking a line against the sky — and compresses it onto a console table. This is the proposition of the Talaia series: the watchtower as a domestic object. Not a reference to classical architecture, not a historicist gesture, but a sculptural form that carries the spatial reasoning of a vertical structure and translates it into something that fits on a mante

Every studio has a portfolio. What it contains is a curated argument about what the studio is. What it does not contain is often more revealing. This is not a confession. It is an observation about how portfolios work — not just at Sinopia, but at every architectural and design practice that has ever existed. A portfolio is not a complete record of work done. It is a selection of work that represents the studio's current direction, current quality, and current ambitions. The

Every garden requires maintenance. This one requires none — and will look exactly the same in ten years as it does today. This is not a selling point. It is a philosophical position. The Reshaping Collection is built on the idea that materials can be redirected into permanent form — that what was temporary can become fixed, that what was intended for one purpose can find a more enduring one. Jardí is the most literal expression of this idea in the entire collection. A garden

A single object on a wall is a statement. A series of panels is a landscape — and the difference between the two is the difference between decoration and architecture. This is the thinking behind Estrat — two works that approach the wall not as a surface to be decorated but as a plane to be activated. Estrat Mar is a single panel that compresses the Mediterranean into one authoritative object. Estrat Terra is a four-panel installation that distributes a geological landscape a

Clients rarely come to us saying they want to redesign their kitchen. They come saying they want to open up the living room, or improve the light, or make the apartment feel bigger. The kitchen is almost always what needs to change. This is not a coincidence. The kitchen is the structural heart of any home — its position, its relationship to adjacent spaces, its orientation relative to light and movement and daily life — determines the logic of every room around it. When a ho

Most creative process posts are written in retrospect. The material has been resolved, the object is finished, the form has itself declared and been named and photographed and listed. The story is told from the other side of the making—cleanly, with the benefit of knowing how it ended. This is not that post. This is a post written from the middle of things — from a studio where several ideas are simultaneously in progress, none of them finished, some of them not yet decided,

Yarn is the most forgiving material in the studio. It is also the most demanding — because it will do almost anything, which means every decision about what it should do has to be made deliberately. Paper makes its own suggestions. Hold a layered sheet over a form and it starts to tell you where it wants to fold, where it will hold and where it will not. Fabric drapes toward gravity and shows you its natural fall within minutes of being handled. Yarn does none of this. It wai

A name is not a label. It is a position. This is why the Reshaping Collection is named in Catalan. Not in Spanish, which would be the obvious choice for a studio based in Spain. Not in French, which would serve the Swiss and Belgian audience the brand is increasingly speaking to. Not in English, which would maximize immediate comprehension across all markets simultaneously. Catalan — the language of this specific landscape, this specific coastline, this specific town between

The rods were bought for a wardrobe system in Finland. They ended up on a wall in Palamós, lit from behind, supplemented by rods from a broken trampoline, and became the most complex piece the studio has ever made. This is the Reshaping Collection at its most literal — a material so far from its intended purpose that the distance between what it was and what it became is almost comic. Almost. Because Espectre is not funny. It is one of the most resolved pieces in the collecti

The right questions, asked early, save more money than any negotiation later. This is not a cynical observation about the design industry. It is a practical one about how projects go wrong — and they almost never go wrong because the designer was incompetent or the client was difficult. They go wrong because two people began a project with different assumptions about what it was, and nobody asked the questions that would have revealed the gap before money was spent and decisi

Most materials arrive in the studio with no plan attached to them. That is deliberate. This is perhaps the most counterintuitive thing about how the Reshaping Collection is made. There is no design brief, no mood board created in advance, no sketch that precedes the material. The material comes first — already present, already carrying its history — and the form follows from working with it, not from deciding what it should be before touching it. This is slower than designing

Symmetry is easy to make and easy to forget. Asymmetry asks you to look twice. This is the thinking behind Galets — a series of hand-formed wall accents that take their name and their logic from coastal stones. No two are alike. None of them are symmetrical. And that is not an accident of the making process. It is the entire point of it. Galets - Wall Accents | The Reshaping Collection - Sinopia Décor What a stone actually looks like Pick up a stone from any beach on the Cost

The first layer is always the most uncertain. By the final one, the form has decided what it wants to be. This is true of paper, which is where the Reshaping Collection began. It is true of cord and yarn, which are coming. And it is especially true of fabric — the most unpredictable, most alive, and most demanding material the studio has worked with so far. Luna began as a question. A 64cm polystyrene disc, a length of fabric, and no fixed idea of what the surface should look

The outside is what the room sees. The inside is what you see. They should not be the same. This is the idea behind Écorce — a set of hand-formed vessels in which the exterior surface is left deliberately raw and unresolved, while the interior is painted gold. The contrast is not decorative. It is a position. 'Ecorce' Vessel Set | The Reshaping Collection What you see first From across a room, Écorce reads as stone. The exterior surface is granular, mineral, chalk-white — the

It started with one question about a sofa. It ended with a room that finally made sense. This is not an unusual story. In fact it is the most common story we have — the client who arrives at a Quick Fix consultation with a specific, contained problem, and leaves having understood that the problem was never really about the sofa at all. That is not a sales observation. It is an architectural one. Rooms do not malfunction in isolation. When something feels wrong — the proportio

Every piece in the Reshaping Collection begins as something that already existed — and already mattered. That is not a marketing statement. It is a material fact. The paper in Threshold, in Soleil, in Galets — the paper that forms the structural body of every piece — was pattern paper. Working documents from years of design practice in fashion. Sheets marked with grain lines, notches, cutting instructions. The technical language of garments that were made, worn, and moved on

Paper should not last. That is what makes it interesting. We live in a material culture that defaults to permanence — ceramic, concrete, resin, cast metal. These are the languages of the object world. Heavy. Resolved. Unambiguous. And for good reason: they endure. But in that endurance, something is lost. The record of the hand. The evidence of process. The slight imperfection that makes a thing feel made rather than manufactured. Paper holds all of that. And when it is worke

Nestled along the Costa Brava, Palamós is more than just a backdrop—it’s a feeling. It’s a place where the grit of a working fishing port meets a very quiet, contemporary kind of elegance. This balance is exactly what sparked the idea for Sinopia Décor . As an architect, I’ve always been obsessed with the tension between structure and soul, and Sinopia is where those two worlds finally meet. This isn't just a concept store; it’s a narrative of the Mediterranean, told through

Creating a home that resonates with warmth, authenticity, and timeless elegance is an art. It is about weaving together elements that tell a story, evoke emotions, and invite a sense of belonging. Sinopia Décor, a unique interior décor and design concept store based in Palamós, Costa Brava, embodies this philosophy. Curated by an architect, it offers a refined collection of artisanal pieces and design accessories that inspire soulful living. This post explores how to design M

The Essence of Mediterranean Homes Design: Timelessness in Every Detail Mediterranean interiors are defined by their simplicity, natural materials, and a warm, inviting atmosphere. These homes embrace authenticity and longevity, focusing on quality over quantity. The use of terracotta tiles, whitewashed walls, wrought iron accents, and wooden beams creates a foundation that feels both grounded and elegant. Unlike trend-led interiors that chase the latest colours or patterns,