The house I designed, and the sculptural lounge chair that followed
Some objects don’t need to be explained. You feel them.
When I designed my own house a villa shaped by reduction and rhythm I wasn’t trying to prove anything. I wanted clarity. Space. A sense of structure without decoration. That same mindset eventually led me, years later, to design a sculptural lounge chair.
This house, now known as the Sint-Oedenrode Villa, was designed with one principle above all: essence through reduction. Every idea, every wish, every aesthetic impulse was stripped back to its most necessary form. The result was a calm, single-level home with a strong rhythm and a logic you can sense in one glance. It opens generously to nature on one side, while closing protectively to the street on the other. That balance between openness and retreat guided every decision.
Inside, the material palette was pared back to its core. Steel, wood, concrete. No plaster, no paint, no filler. What you see is what holds the space. That honesty in construction gave the house its character.
I never lived in the house.
My former partner and I worked on the project for almost five years, together with RHAW Architecture. Just before it was completed, we separated and decided to sell the house before ever moving in. I didn’t shed a tear. It had already given me what I needed. Designing that space was one of the most rewarding, energising periods of my life. It opened new doors. It shifted my focus.
Shortly after, I closed my vintage design business and started drawing again. I knew I wanted to make something new something of my own. The Ida lounge chair was the first result of that shift.
Just like the villa, the Ida began as an exercise in reduction. No unnecessary shaping. Instead, I let the material do the work. Wool folded, held in tension became both structure and softness. The shape emerged not from drawing but from responding to weight, resistance, and form. It was design by listening, not imposing.
The similarities weren’t just technical. Both the villa and the Ida rely on material clarity. There is no decorative gesture. In the house, concrete meets wood without interruption. In the chair, the wool isn’t hidden it’s the main character. In both cases, the design invites you to experience the texture of what’s really there.
There’s also a shared sense of scale and use. The house was designed as a space for living: to cook, to sit, to look out, to breathe. It wasn’t precious it was grounded. That’s exactly what I wanted the chair to be: sculptural, yes, but not performative. Something that holds the body without forcing it. That lets the room breathe around it. That becomes part of the space rather than interrupting it.
I believe this is where the power lies. Not in more, but in less that means more. Not in shouting, but in the quiet confidence of form that holds up. Both the Ida and the villa work from the inside out. Their beauty isn’t layered on top it’s built into the structure.
Sometimes, the things you design far apart in time turn out to be part of the same conversation. My house taught me that honesty and presence require editing. That good design doesn’t begin with what you want to add, but with what you’re willing to take away.
My sculptural lounge chair reminded me of the same thing on a smaller, softer scale.
What materials are used in the ida lounge chair?
The chair uses Dutch wool for both structure and comfort, and a cover made from wool or leather or sheepskin. There’s no foam, no frame, and no hidden parts.
Why no foam or internal structure?
Like in the house, strength comes from the way materials are layered and joined, not from added fillers. The wool offers both softness and support without collapsing over time.
Where can I see both projects?
The house was designed by RHAW Architecture, and the Ida lounge chair is available through this website and the specials are available at Mia Karlova Galerie.