Furniture designer Rick Gilbert’s flat is a former curtain warehouse. It has the conventional features of the classic loft space, in this instance, exposed brickwork and gigantic doors, through which curtains were once hoisted from trains on the adjacent railway track. But Gilbert was adamant that he didn’t want a brutally empty, open-plan space – for practical as much as aesthetic reasons.
‘In my last place, living and working spaces were integrated. It was hard to switch off or start work in full view of the living area.’
Refusing to conform to the loft-dwelling convention of open-plan living, he broke up the space near the entrance with a giant snaking sheet of corrugated plastic. ‘It hides the office, creates a hallway, and guides the eye to the kitchen in the middle of the flat. I wanted the kitchen to be a neutral zone, where I can either cook dinner for friends or make coffee for clients.’
To offset the synthetic look of his plastic screen and stainless steel kitchen, Gilbert laid the floors with a light wood. And while his futuristic chairs and sofas litter the flat, it’s also stuffed with rather more sentimental and homely furniture, given to him by his parents or bought from markets.