
The living room
Floor, walls and ceiling are book-matched from one slab, so the vein on the floor climbs the wall and crosses the ceiling. There is one sofa. The view does the rest.
Marble has been cut from these mountains for two thousand years. This is the first house built from the block it was quarried from.
Rough from the saw, every surface in the house is finished by hand. Keep scrolling and the stone comes up.
Eight hours of hand polishing for every square metre. The stone shows every one of them.
The walls are not clad. They are stacked: solid blocks of Bianco Carrara, sixty centimetres deep, all cut from one bench of the quarry. What the saw took out of the mountain in March 2025 is the house.
Sixty centimetres of marble do what no insulation does. The walls take the sun all day and give it back after dark; in August the rooms stay below twenty-four degrees without a machine running.
The loggia faces the sea. Its four pillars come from the same bench as the walls, so the veins run through the whole house in one direction, like grain through a single plank.
Floor, walls and ceiling are book-matched from one slab, so the vein on the floor climbs the wall and crosses the ceiling. There is one sofa. The view does the rest.
Carved from one block. The tub, the wall behind it and the floor were never separate pieces; the veins run through all three without a joint.
The headboard is the wall. The window is a metre deep, and in the late afternoon the mountain comes into the room with the light.
Each step is a solid block, cantilevered from the shaft wall. Nothing holds them but the weight of the stone above.
Marble stores the sun and gives it back after dark. At midnight in October the terrace is still warm underfoot.





