The shadowline.
A floating cantilever stair in grey-toned oak — built like a piece of gallery furniture.
Most floating stairs are warm — pale oak, white walls, lots of light. This one isn't. It's dark, graphic, and deliberately editorial — closer in feel to a piece of contemporary furniture than to a piece of architecture.
The whole stair speaks one vocabulary. Treads, stringer, handrails, and balusters all live in the same range of tones, from cool-grey oak to near-black steel. The wall-mounted rails continue the language uninterrupted — so the dark line you trace going up the open side keeps going across the wall on the closed side, never breaking.
The finish on the wood is doing a lot of work here. The oak is wire-brushed to open up the grain texture, then taken into a cool grey-brown range — the kind of finish that reads as fumed at a distance and as hand-worked up close.
The detail to study is the rail-to-newel joint. A mitered corner, a chamfered shadow gap where the rail meets the post, end-grain showing on the cap. It's the kind of detail you only get from a shop that finishes its own joinery — not a shop that orders parts.
Closer in feel to a piece of contemporary furniture than to a piece of architecture.
The base of the run — same dark vocabulary continuing into the living space.
Mid-flight detail — treads, balusters, and the continuous shadow line.
Cantilevered tread closeup. The wire-brushed grain reads as texture at any distance.
Looking up from underneath — the abstract pattern of treads against the wall.
Wall-mounted rail in the same oak as the stair — the language never breaks.
A lived-in moment: two potted plants share a tread.
The upper landing, looking back down the run, with a colourful rug below.
Detail of the rail-to-newel joint — mitered, with a chamfered shadow gap. Built like furniture.
Tell us about the stair your house deserves.
The shadowline.
A floating cantilever stair in grey-toned oak — built like a piece of gallery furniture.
Most floating stairs are warm — pale oak, white walls, lots of light. This one isn't. It's dark, graphic, and deliberately editorial — closer in feel to a piece of contemporary furniture than to a piece of architecture.
The whole stair speaks one vocabulary. Treads, stringer, handrails, and balusters all live in the same range of tones, from cool-grey oak to near-black steel. The wall-mounted rails continue the language uninterrupted — so the dark line you trace going up the open side keeps going across the wall on the closed side, never breaking.
The finish on the wood is doing a lot of work here. The oak is wire-brushed to open up the grain texture, then taken into a cool grey-brown range — the kind of finish that reads as fumed at a distance and as hand-worked up close.
The detail to study is the rail-to-newel joint. A mitered corner, a chamfered shadow gap where the rail meets the post, end-grain showing on the cap. It's the kind of detail you only get from a shop that finishes its own joinery — not a shop that orders parts.
Closer in feel to a piece of contemporary furniture than to a piece of architecture.
The base of the run — same dark vocabulary continuing into the living space.
Mid-flight detail — treads, balusters, and the continuous shadow line.
Cantilevered tread closeup. The wire-brushed grain reads as texture at any distance.
Looking up from underneath — the abstract pattern of treads against the wall.
Wall-mounted rail in the same oak as the stair — the language never breaks.
A lived-in moment: two potted plants share a tread.
The upper landing, looking back down the run, with a colourful rug below.
Detail of the rail-to-newel joint — mitered, with a chamfered shadow gap. Built like furniture.