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LA CASA SUL LAGO: A DANCE OF ILLUMINATION, DESIGN AND LOVE
It is dawn. The first rays of light filter through the bedroom’s delicate curtains, caressing the wooden floor and revealing the soft contours of the bed.
She stretches slowly. He puts on an old record. A soft, fluid jazz note wafts through the air.
This is how each day begins in this 19thcentury Art Nouveau villa: with a rhythm one tiptoes through.
A dash back to bed — a burst of laughter, a tangle of arms and sheets. All around them, the enveloping silence of morning, and the discreet elegance of the materials: leather, velvet, polished marble, matte metals.
Amid these textures, forgotten objects scattered around the house serve as counterpoints between form and tone: a pair of shoes, an open book, a forgotten dress.
She wears a pastel-coloured kimono that echoes the warm hues of the sofa she’s lying on. As she listens to music, she relaxes and flips through record covers.
Time seems to expand: light dances across surfaces, and a visual, tactile symphony transforms the moment into a frame from a black-and-white film.
The patio overlooking the lake is bathed in light.
On the small table: two steaming cups of coffee, a basket of croissants, and a gaze lost in the infinite blue of the water. Nature seeps into the home, mirrored in its materials and colours.
A vibrant calm accompanies every gesture while the day gently unfolds.
The house becomes a setting for intimacy. In the dining room, a large metal table reflects the dance of light that pours through the windows.
The chairs resemble living sculptures — open, inviting, embracing. Harmony emerges between functionality and poetry: a shared meal, a meaningful glance, a silence that echoes.
Later, she retreats to her study: a waveshaped desk in rich, brandy-toned colour, beneath a blown-glass chandelier that floats like a constellation. During a break, she perches on the wide window sill, gazing out at the garden.
He prefers the annex — a more secluded office, where focus is drawn inward by the sweeping view through the glass wall, as if the garden itself were eager to step inside. Two different places, two distinct energies — yet the same essential beauty.
The dance continues into the late afternoon.
The couple gradually makes their way to the upper terrace, a secluded marvel beyond the winter garden. Here, the house reveals its hidden gem: a swimming pool set like a jewel among stone, greenery, and sky — suspended between lake and mountains.
The water is clear and tranquil, reflecting drifting clouds and the changing hue of the sky.
She dives with a light, elegant gesture that breaks the surface like the first note of a symphony.
He follows. They get carried away, chasing each other in slow, playful spirals. It is a natural choreography, a silent dialogue between their bodies and the setting.
All around, padded loungers become islands of peace: upholstered in pale, inviting fabrics, they beckon you to dry off under the sun and sip a vibrant, fruity cocktail.
The music flows in the background with its slow, rhythmic pulses.
The day is not over yet: a wooden speedboat with sand-coloured leather seats approaches the small private pier. Hand in hand, they step aboard as the lake glides beneath the bow. The sun sets behind them, painting the mountains in hues of pink and gold.
Every curve of the coast becomes a discovery; every reflection on the water, a photograph.
All around, ochretoned villas are discreetly nestled among cypress trees and blooming bougainvillea, their facades appearing to float as the hills dissolve into sky. The couple sail north, switch off the engine in a narrow inlet, and drift gently where the lake splits into three branches.
The city of Como emerges behind them, offering a vista of bell towers, majestic spires, and red rooftops. She takes the helm with joy, while he captures her smile.
On their return, the golden light of the sunset welcomes them back.
The villa greets them upon their return.
Surfaces catch the last glimmers of day, while the music resumes softly in the background.
A change of clothes. A deep breath.
Domestic intimacy returns.
In their silent proximity, each is absorbed in a book or immersed in their own thoughts.
Moka, the loyal French bulldog, lies peacefully by her side. The colors soften. Fabrics envelop.
Home becomes an embrace, a place to drift toward evening.
A slow crescendo carries them to the first-floor bar: amber and crystal bottles, glass tumblers, an onyx counter.
Here, they mix cocktails, share laughter, exchange fragments of the day.
Then they move onto the terrace, where the sun casts its final rays and the garden pulses with vibrant light.
The wind interweaves with the music.
It is a timeless moment — one in which every object adds meaning.
And then, the dance resumes. In the living room, lights dim. The record player hums to life again.
They move slowly at first, then with mounting energy, as if guided by an invisible choreography. Each movement becomes a tribute to beauty; each pose, a celebration of the furniture’s sensual elegance.
The villa transforms into their private theatre, with the Baxter collection as its silent stage. As night falls and the lake turns velvet black, the house settles into stillness. Yet every detail remains—a quiet testament to a day infused with intensity, where design meets emotion, and material meets soul.
PHOTO CREDIT Andrea Ferrari