Elevated Geometry

Math was never my favorite subject— until my sophomore year at Los Altos High School, in Northen California, when everything changed. That’s when I walked into Ms. Lombard’s 10th grade geometry class, and finally saw what so many others saw in
mathematics—its beauty. And geometry, with all its shapes, was more than just beautiful, it was gorgeous. I dove in.
All these years later, every project is another opportunity to dive into its beauty again. Each shape or form exists in the space for a reason. Perhaps it’s there to guide someone through, possibly to lend balance, or maybe I’m using a certain shape to evoke a specific feeling. For safety and assurance, I’ll bring in squares and rectangles; for stability, I’ll call on the triangle; and when I want to capture a sense of comfort, and the suggestion of a soft embrace, I’ll turn to the circle.
In life, and design, I’m a circle girl. It’s my favorite shape. When I run, I prefer a loop trail over one that takes me out and back. On a meditation walk, I feel pulled to enter a labyrinth’s complicated circle. Put me near just about any body of water, and I can’t resist tossing a stone and watching the ripples circle ever outward.
All throughout the day, I feel as though I’m constantly encountering sharp angles and jagged edges, and so the gentle and forgiving contours of a circle provide me with a respite. I’m aware of its negative connotations, like being “thrown for a loop,” or stuck in “a vicious cycle,” but I simply don’t see it that way. Looking at a circle, I see wholeness and serenity. I feel enveloped and soothed. No beginning, no end, I am complete.

Soft Curves in Silicon Valley

Every project lingers in my mind for its own set of reasons. Thinking back on this house, two memories emerge: its bridge, and the architect I collaborated with, Armin Staprans, my husband. In one of our conversations, Armin said something that framed my thinking about its interiors. “Mere exposure to repeating forms, like repeating melodies in music, brings us deeper understanding and comfort. Architecture, interior design, furnishings and landscaping all sing together, creating the lyric of the home.” The form that Armin and I chose to repeat in this house was the curve. And its most beautiful expression is the bridge that connects the family wing to the home’s most sacred and private place, its primary suite.

The bridge is not just the focal point of the home’s central form, it’s also what lets you feel grounded, especially in the Great Room whose ceiling soars upwards of twenty three feet.
Yet, sitting at the table placed directly under the bridge, the shape of its simple arc allowed me to feel just as I do when I’m in a forest, sitting under a canopy of trees: protected, enveloped, and rooted.