Inside a historic stone building, ice moves through granite. Glass block benches and partitions sit against walls that have stood for centuries — cold, clear, deliberately temporary next to something permanent. Elsewhere, a transparent acrylic screen carries an engraved capital, the ghost of a column this building never had. It isn't restoration. It's a guess at a past that may never have existed — a fantasy of what the space could have been, layered lightly over what it actually is.

Overhead, a bespoke chandelier in polished stainless steel — designed entirely in-house, drawn line by line — reimagines the grand chandelier for now: rails and rods instead of crystal, tracing the stone ceiling like wiring made visible. Nothing here pretends the building is untouched. It admits its age, and adds a new story on top of it.