Spaces

Four rooms where pink and blue occupy the same space and find their balance — at every scale, from a cobalt blue floor and a pink sofa to two salmon pink walls and a teal kitchen volume. SILCO EDIT on why warm and cool keep ending up together.

Three homes where the staircase is red — and the rest of the house is organised around it. A floating perforated steel structure in a London Georgian maisonette. A lacquered red circulation core cutting through a Victorian section in San Francisco. A signal red spine connecting two halves of a house designed to divide. 

Three spaces where green and blue occupy the same room without merging — across different tones, surfaces, and spatial roles. Lime green and cornflower blue. Mint green and steel blue. A colour pairing that keeps appearing in contemporary interiors, and a closer look at why it works.

Four contemporary interiors where cobalt blue appears once — as a curtain, a panel, a column, a frame — and defines the entire spatial logic. SILCO EDIT curates colour as architecture.

In 59 square metres of post-war Warsaw, pistachio and ruby red do the structural work that walls and square footage cannot — a renovation that edits rather than erases.

One colour applied to the structural beam and the column that meets it. Everything else — white walls, terrazzo, plywood, grey — holds back. What looks like decoration turns out to be the spatial logic of the whole plan.

Tommaso Aliverti, Paolo Catrambone and Tommaso Sossi build a reversible civic pavilion in Milan where the green of the structural frame is the only colour decision the project needed to make.

Where green operates not as colour choice but as spatial grammar — each zone legible by hue before it can be identified by function.

A load-bearing wall comes down, a tiled island becomes an optical instrument, and colour does the organisational work that partitions might have done.

In a Riga courtyard formed by a century of layered construction, Sampling adds only what is necessary — and marks it in red.

Salvaged steel, bold colour, and a folding threshold — Marta Badiola and Jorge Pizarro rehabilitate 174 m² of industrial volume in Madrid to ask what a dwelling can be when it refuses to forget what it was.

Raw materials, deliberate void, and structural light — on the southern periphery of the city, a conversion project that refuses nostalgia and refuses decoration in equal measure.