Don’t discard a puzzle with missing pieces. Rather use it as a colourful trim to cheer-up dull picture frames, or even to give scatter cushions a funky edge.

What you’ll need

• Puzzle pieces
• A scatter cushion
• Clear all-purpose glue or a tag gun – we bought our tag gun at a Chinese store, along with tags and an extra needle. Also stocked at leading stationery shops.

How to

You can either rebuild the puzzle piece by piece (without the missing pieces, of course) on the cushion, or create your own random pattern. Glue the pieces onto the cushion one at a time, or use a tag gun to tag them onto the cushion. (Simply press the tag gun needle through the centre of each puzzle piece, then through the fabric of the cushion, and pull the trigger.) If you are tagging rather than gluing, you’ll find that the pieces won’t stay firmly in place, resulting in a fun, dynamic design. 

Did you like this Smart Idea? See others here.

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The prick of a thorn is a reminder of our fragility, but it’s no accident that plants with thorns are among the most beautiful of all, because each one has something precious to lose or hide.

The Bible’s Old Testament bristles with references to thorns. You have only to look at Cruden’s great Bible Concordance, in particular Isaiah 34:13: “And thorns shall come up in her palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof: and it shall be a  habitation of dragons, and a court for owls.” Thorns and thistles were a curse more fearful even than death or the plague. Thorns infested the humble patch of the first farmer, choked the crops, ruined the pastures. For the nomads of long ago, spring was a fleeting abundance; as the summer briars took hold, they had to move on, flee.

How and where did thorns come into being? Primitive  plants all had their origins in the algae. But somewhere in the past some of them became more palatable, and so more sought-after. And this is where the arms race began, when incidental thorns gave certain plants a better chance of survival. Plant eaters had to adapt, developing small mouths to graze  between the barbs and robust teeth to crack them. Thanks to this ecological tug of war, today we have some of the most beautiful plants on earth: the acacias, the heavenly euphorbias of our deserts, the silk thistle and the rose.

Consider, also, Africa’s classic thorn trees. You have only to look at the silhouettes. There is nothing accidental about these divine shapes, because they have been carved out by others in search of the tree’s hidden treasure. Under the goad of the spines the lower layer has been pruned away and the crown compelled upwards. The whole landscape is defined by the finer detail, rather than by the big picture – the sky blue as nowhere else on earth, the forms pure Pierneef.

If I had to choose my favourite thornbush it would be the num-num. Was there ever a more rewarding and generous garden plant? You wake one summer morning with the bedroom windows open to the garden. The curtains billow and suddenly you’re enveloped in a cloud of the purest perfume. It reminds me of Guerlain’s Vetiver, as described by Luca Turin: “Stoic and discreet, Vetiver scorns all luxury save that of its own proud solitude”. Later in the season, you are rewarded yet again with the ripening of the num-num’s startling red fruit. Sweet and sour hidden among the double thorns. 

We tend to forget that our world is a thoroughly prickly one. From the rose on your coffee table, the berries in
your yoghurt – blackberry and raspberry – and the sweet chartreuse-green prickly pear, to the landscapes of Africa passing your car windows, from fynbos to Kalahari – thorns are everywhere.

A prick of the finger reminds us of our frailty. First the
electric sting, then weakness – then the drop of blood, round and perfect. Redder than coral, num-num red. There is a beautiful verse, “Lascia la spina”, from Handel’s oratorio Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno.

– DAVE PEPLER

– Sources: Burr, C. – The Emperor of Scent, Arrow Books, London, 2002. 

Ministry of Defence

 In September 1908, Sir Francis Darwin, botanist and son of the great Charles, made a startling claim. In an address delivered to the British Association for the Advancement of Science, he suggested that plants were able to “think” and that, as regards relation to environment, they and humans must therefore be placed in the same class.

This provoked howls of scorn. Take a look, however, at the defence strategies of plants and you might be inclined to agree. This armoury must count as one of the most extraordinary feats of evolution. Shoots, leaf stems and leaves have been changed into sharp protuberances, some hair-fine, others large as lions’ teeth; some straight, some wickedly hooked, others forked. Over time, a live, soft appendage has become a hard, fibrous one with fortified cell walls, cunningly arranged to repel or ensnare – or both. Botanists refer to these modifications of plant parts as spines, specifying whether they are leaf, shoot, petiolar (leaf stalk) or stipular (a tag at the base of the leaf stalk). There are also thorns that are not modifications of standard plant parts but extra growths, termed emergences or prickles. Rose thorns and surface thorns of aloes are typical emergences. A spine generally contains some vascular tissue; an emergence does not. Mature spines and emergences are usually made up almost entirely of dead cells.

Most of these elaborate defence mechanisms have developed in arid regions, along with other modifications designed to cope with drought. Stems swell to become water reservoirs, leaves become thorns, reducing transpiration as well as protecting the plant from thirsty animals. Other plants, such as acacias, retain their leaves, but the stipules change into large protective spines at the base. The spacing and angling may not entirely deter browsers, but will certainly inhibit them. Other thorns, such as the diabolical Devil’s Claw (Harpagophyton procumbens) and the dubbeltjie (Tribulus terrestris) are designed to catch onto an unfortunate passer-by and so effect seed dispersal. Hooked thorns along stems, such as in roses and asparagus species, are not only protective but also climbing aids.

For all the animals that are discouraged by the barriers of the plant world, there are probably as many who use them as protection. Observe the number of birds nesting in thorny scrub and acacia trees: firm anchor pins to hold a nest – and safe as houses.

The well armed garden

• In the garden, sculptural plants such as aloes, cacti, thorn trees and agaves provide dramatic beauty as well as security fencing, but keep them away from paths, patios and play areas.

• Keep branches of trees well above eye level, or let them sweep to the ground.

• Arm yourself with heavy leather gauntlets for gardening. 

• Aloe arborescens, the cat thorn, Scutia myrtina, the
Kei apple, Dovyalis caffra, or various taller species of Euphorbia, all make striking and impenetrable hedges.

•  If you have space, plant a thicket or exclusion area of thorny trees, shrubs and scramblers, which birds will love.

• Begin by planting thorn trees close together along the boundary. To the front, plant shrubs such as Cassinopsis ilicifolia, and Carissa macrocarpa. Add thorny scramblers, such as Asparagus falcatus and Smilax kraussiana.*

• Spiky exotics also make colourful security hedges and habitats, especially bougainvillea and heritage roses. Gwen Fagan suggests planting a mix of the following old roses for a beautiful display: ‘Géant des Batailles’, ‘Alberic Barbier’, ‘Indica Major’, ‘Mermaid’, Rosa laevigata, Rosa multiflora varieties and ‘Russelliana’.

– ALLAN DAVIES

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The “Paris of the Caribbean” is a city bathed in fortitude and photogenic decay. But as America turns a newly benign gaze on one of communism’s last outposts, everything looks set to change.

Havana is like a feverish dream. You don’t really want it to end, but in the early hours of the morning the shutters start banging, the heavens rumble and suddenly weep great tears which the wind blows in to splatter you awake.

Only a few hours earlier, the humidity had driven the city’s residents outdoors, as far as the Malecón, a 7 km-long boulevard along the sea front with a broad wall above the rocks, where you can sit, lie, walk and even sleep.

Here, as the sun sinks and skirts begin to flutter in the salty breeze, Havana begins to laugh, talk, drink, play and dance in earnest. There are grannies in wheelchairs, tearaway grandchildren, lovers, prostitutes, musicians, taxi drivers, metrosexuals in indecently skimpy running shorts, cold-drink and cigar sellers, and shapely girls poured into hot pants or skin-tight minis, ready to sway the night away in the clubs, where you can hear anything from salsa, rumba, flamenco and Latin American jazz to reggae, rap and hip-hop.

“A marvellous decrepit beauty”

Ciudad de la Habana has a marvellous decrepit beauty. Of the many familiar photographic clichés, not one disappoints in reality: the dilapidated Spanish colonial, Art Nouveau and Art Deco buildings; the swaying 1950s Cadillacs, Chevrolets and Studebakers, converted to belch clouds of diesel fumes; the sounds of musicians practising for the annual salsa festival; fat Cohiba cigars; Che T-shirts, Che berets, Che murals; Havana Club bottles; endless mojitos …

The biggest surprise – for which no photograph can prepare you – is the Cubans themselves: strong, lithe people, with large, melancholy eyes. They are friendly, helpful, hospitable, talkative, curious, cheerful – and proud.

The subtropical climate and with it, the building style, has a strong influence on the way in which the two million people interact with visitors as well as with each other. In Habana Vieja, the Old Town, which lies half squeezed between Parque Central (the main square) and the harbour, the front doors open straight onto the narrow pavements that line the maze of narrow cobbled streets. These doors stand open until well after midnight and the entrance halls, often with a majestic staircase leading upwards, are used as places to meet and talk.

Windows often have no glass but are covered with iron grilles and wooden shutters which are opened from inside. Thanks to this, a number of women unknowingly succeed in exposing their bosoms to passers-by of an evening, and during the day you see round and sturdy matriarchs snoring in their cane armchairs in front of a TV blaring Spanish.

The two and three-storey houses have high ceilings, cool marble floors and courtyards where palms provide some shade. Inside, the occupants manage with what they’ve managed to collect over the years – anything from antique furniture to 1950s Formica kitchen cupboards. Faded pictures of Fidel, Che, Catholic saints, framed family photographs and plastic flower arrangements adorn every room.

“The writing is on the wall”

The city still feels like a sweaty time capsule, but the writing is on the wall. The Old Town was declared a historic and cultural world heritage site by UNESCO as long ago as 1982 and numerous buildings are in the process of being restored.

Since my visit, a fortnight after Raúl Castro Ruz took over the reins from his brother on 19 February, Cubans have been permitted to own personal computers. The uniform wage system, which has been applied since the Communist revolution of 1959, is also now being replaced with extra incentive bonuses. Previously, people had no reason to shine – everyone earned the same, no matter how capable or qualified they were.

I often think of Mirurgia and Ernesto van Calle Cuarteles, where we would knock back small cups of jet-black Café Cubano every morning. We had to use the globe in the living room and trace our route with a finger to show them how we flew to Cuba.

For a few moments Ernesto was speechless. Then he pointed to himself: “I go, I go, one day,” he managed to say. Next week, or tomorrow, Ernesto could be ringing my doorbell.

Havana 101

HOW TO GET THERE It’s more expensive to fly via South America to Cuba. There are direct flights from European cities such as London, Paris and Madrid. We travelled via New York and Mexico City. The biggest advantage of this route is that you can take 40 kg baggage for the whole journey, but don’t plan to buy any Cuban cigars.

WHEN TO GO The dry “winter season”, with an average temperature of 26°C, is from December to early April. From May to October it’s boiling hot and the humidity is high. The hurricane season lasts from June to November.

DOCUMENTS AND CURRENCY It’s easy to obtain a tourist visa/card (valid for 30 days) from the Cuban Embassy in Pretoria (or via your travel agent). Cuba uses two currencies: moneda nacional (the Cuban peso) for local residents and the “convertible peso” (CUC – equivalent to 1,2 American dollars) for visitors. Rather take euros or pounds – there is an added 10% levy when you exchange American dollars. ATMs also do not accept cards issued by American banks. My travelling companion’s (ABSA) Visa credit card was accepted everywhere, but my (Standard Bank) Mastercard was spat out by every last machine in Havana.

FOOD AND DRINK Cuba is apparently well known for its terrible food. But man cannot live by mojitos alone and in many of the restaurants there was no mention of Congri, the staple dish of black beans and rice. Instead we feasted on fantastic seafood and tapas, but steered clear of street food, tap water and unpeeled raw fruit and greens. The restaurants in private homes are also worth trying – they’re inexpensive but the food is not always tasty and the service is slow. It’s important to tip parking guards, cleaners at public toilets, tour guides, musicians, taxi drivers and waiters. Remember, most Cubans – from cleaners to university professors – earn less than R200 per month.

SHOPPING Merchandise in Havana’s shops is pitifully sparse but it’s a good chance to give your credit card a rest. You may find an attractive painting in one of the hundreds of art galleries, or a guayabera cotton shirt, or buy excellent coffee and cigars (not if you’re flying via the USA, though). Remember to obtain a receipt/certificate for artworks, as this must be produced at customs when you leave. The book market on the oldest square, the elegant Plaza des Armas, is worth a visit, as is the tiny Museo del Chocolate, where you must try the deliciously thick hot chocolate.

MUSEUMS Havana has numerous museums, theatres and art galleries, but not all are properly maintained. Don’t miss the Museo de la Revolucion, which offers a good overview of the history of Cuba, Fidel Castro and Che Guevara. The Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes contains works by Rubens, Goya and Velázquez. Try an art tour by Art-Havana (art-havana.com), or follow in Ernest Hemingway’s footsteps and visit the house where he spent the last 22 years of his life, as well as his favourite watering holes.

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Three years ago, Mud was producing ceramics for selected local shops. Now, the stock is piled up to the roof, the studio is three times its original size, and orders from global design shops are streaming in.

What was the turning point? “We were contacted by Trevyn McDowell of Source in the UK in 2004 and it grew from there,” remembers Philippa du Toit, who owns the studio with her husband, Werner. Their commitment to producing handmade ceramics, despite the obvious pressure to mass produce, is paying off. According to Trevyn, overseas customers look for products with a conscience. “Americans in particular like to know that they are helping to create jobs and are keen to know the story of each maker,” she explains. Job creation is certainly the case at Mud, where the Du Toits, aware of the high unemployment figures in their area, train local residents for each available position.

Philippa’s bead project in nearby Clocolan is just such a project. Five years ago, 20 women started making beads and now produce thousands each month for interiors shops and lodges such as Singita. Mud also uses the beads for iconic African chandeliers that have made their way to Ralph Lauren’s shop in New York, as well as the Milan Furniture Fair. The New York Times press clipping hangs modestly in the studio’s rejects shop. Other Mud creations, described by Trevyn as “beautiful but with a sense of humour that speaks to people on all levels”, can be found from Anthropologie in Los Angeles to The Conran Shop in London.

Locally, Mud is trying to keep up. The studio is aware that this market is growing and will sustain the business if the fickle overseas market turns to another trend. The new Peasant Range (pictured right) was launched recently and, according to Trevyn, “It is definitely the forerunner to that elusive one-off item that everyone is looking for.”

What’s next for Mud? Philippa laughs, “Terence Conran has asked us to take part in a special project – a book called Inspirations. So, who knows – things change every day!”

• Mud Studio, 083 658 9714 (Werner), 083 658 9736 (Philippa)

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The prick of a thorn is a reminder of our frailty, but it’s no accident that plants with thorns are amomg the most beautiful of all, because each one has something precious to lose or hide.

The Bible’s Old Testament bristles with references to thorns. You have only to look at Cruden’s great Bible Concordance, in particular Isaiah 34:13: “And thorns shall come up in her palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof: and it shall be a habitation of dragons, and a court for owls.”

Thorns and thistles were a curse more fearful even than death or the plague. Thorns infested the humble patch of the first farmer, choked the crops, ruined the pastures. For the nomads of long ago, spring was a fleeting abundance; as the summer briars took hold, they had to move on, flee.

How and where did thorns come into being? Primitive plants all had their origins in the algae. But somewhere in the past some of them became more palatable, and so more sought-after. And this is where the arms race began, when incidental thorns gave certain plants a better chance of survival.

Plant eaters had to adapt, developing small mouths to graze between the barbs and robust teeth to crack them. Thanks to this ecological tug of war, today we have some of the most beautiful plants on earth: the acacias, the heavenly euphorbias of our deserts, the silk thistle and the rose.

Consider, also, Africa’s classic thorn trees. You have only to look at the silhouettes. There is nothing accidental about these divine shapes, because they have been carved out by others in search of the tree’s hidden treasure. Under the goad of the spines the lower layer has been pruned away and the crown compelled upwards. The whole landscape is defined by the finer detail, rather than by the big picture – the sky blue as nowhere else on earth, the forms pure Pierneef.

If I had to choose my favourite thornbush it would be the num-num. Was there ever a more rewarding and generous garden plant? You wake one summer morning with the bedroom windows open to the garden. The curtains billow and suddenly you’re enveloped in a cloud of the purest perfume. It reminds me of Guerlain’s Vetiver, as described by Luca Turin: “Stoic and discreet, Vetiver scorns all luxury save that of its own proud solitude”. Later in the season, you are rewarded yet again with the ripening of the num-num’s startling red fruit. Sweet and sour hidden among the double thorns.

We tend to forget that our world is a thoroughly prickly one. From the rose on your coffee table, the berries in your yoghurt – blackberry and raspberry – and the sweet chartreuse-green prickly pear, to the landscapes of Africa passing your car windows, from fynbos to Kalahari – thorns are everywhere.

A prick of the finger reminds us of our frailty. First the electric sting, then weakness – then the drop of blood, round and perfect. Redder than coral, num-num red. There is a beautiful verse, “Lascia la spina”, from Handel’s oratorio Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno.

Leave the thorn and pluck the rose,
you go in search of grief.
Old age will creep up on you 
when your heart does not expect it. (Bernadetto Pamphili)

The well-armed garden 

• In the garden, sculptural plants such as aloes, cacti, thorn trees and agaves provide dramatic beauty as well as security fencing, but keep them away from paths, patios and play areas.

• Keep branches of trees well above eye level, or let them sweep to the ground.

• Arm yourself with heavy leather gauntlets for gardening.

• Aloe arborescens, the cat thorn, Scutia myrtina, the Kei apple, Dovyalis caffra, or various taller species of Euphorbia, all make striking and impenetrable hedges.

• If you have space, plant a thicket or exclusion area of thorny trees, shrubs and scramblers, which birds will love.

• Begin by planting thorn trees close together along the boundary. To the front, plant shrubs such as Cassinopsis ilicifolia, and Carissa macrocarpa. Add thorny scramblers, such as Asparagus falcatus and Smilax kraussiana.*

• Spiky exotics also make colourful security hedges and habitats, especially bougainvillea and heritage roses. Gwen Fagan** suggests planting a mix of the following old roses for a beautiful display: ‘Géant des Batailles’, ‘Alberic Barbier’, ‘Indica Major’, ‘Mermaid’, Rosa laevigata, Rosa multiflora varieties and ‘Russelliana’.

* For an extensive list of thorny indigenous plants for security barriers, see Bring Nature Back to your Garden by Charles and Julia Botha (ISBN 1 874 97503 5)
** In Roses at the Cape of Good Hope (ISBN 0 620 11032 5)

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Houses reflect their owners. Writer and journalist, Lin Sampson, first fell in love with her house in Cape Town nearly 30 years ago and has barely changed a thing about it. Her key decor element? Books!

I had just returned from Greece in 1980 when I came across this house in a cobbled street in an unfashionable part of town, but it had an old Cape Town charm with a view over the harbour and a tang of salt in the air. It was evening and I remember there were lighted candles in the interior’s flickering penumbra. It released a sense of solitude and remoteness that I had long loved.

Austerity has always attracted me and this house expressed within its shabbiness, hanging shutters and blocked fireplaces, a sense of the past – all the macerations, austerities, meditations and penances that make up the country in which we live.

I had been living in a house in Anafiotika above the Plaka in Athens, in a whitewashed room (all the houses kept a bucket of whitewash on hand, together with a long pole with which to daub at dirty spots in the manner of cleaning a carpet), with a rough cross incised on a lintel over the doorway.

When I was young I longed for plush, perhaps because my parents scorned it. They sought out old cottages with demented walls and leaking roofs in unfashionable areas, always “below the line”. Once we lived in a tower with no bathroom, once in a stable. We seldom had hot water and I still don’t have it.

Decor unheard of

There was never any possible notion of interior decorating and yet, looking back, our houses were so pretty, with just one or two pieces – inherited of course. My mother used to say about others, “She is one of those unfortunate women who didn’t inherit her furniture and had to buy it.”

Sofas and chairs were always slip covered, tied at the back like ball gowns, and one of my jobs was to help get them back into their slips after they had been washed (and shrunk). It’s one of the few skills I still retain (I wonder if there is any money in it?). Decor was unheard of, not even in a dictionary.

I had a friend at school whose mother “redid her lounge” every year. I longed for a redone lounge – although this was a word we were absolutely never allowed to use, so much so that when I became engaged to a man who said “lounge”, I was forced to break it off. And in case you think this was before World War I, my niece, who got engaged last year, admitted to us nervously, “I do have to tell you something about him. He says ‘lounge’.” If she had said he was a paedophile, we would not have been more shocked.

I have always been astounded at how much time South Africans spend on doing up or undoing their houses. They seem to be so obsessed with bathrooms, kitchens and off-street parking that if you offered them Sissinghurst (Vita Sackville-West’s house), they’d ask, “Has it got main en-suite and is there off-street parking?”

When I bought my house, it had the Trappist simplicity sometimes seen in early Scandinavian homes. There was a slab of old pink marble under a fig tree, bare boarded floors and internal shutters. I discovered long after I bought it that it had a superb view over the harbour, but I have always thought views overrated.

The late writer and taste terrorist Bruce Chatwin (who, when I last saw him, was living in one room with a shower in Albany in Piccadilly) once said, “It was one of those awful houses with a view.” To me there is nothing worse than those over-marbled mausoleums on the Atlantic Seaboard with “a view”. What do you think outside is for?

“In the middle of renovating”

In those days I was an interior decorator. I got so sick of people saying, “Oh, this house has got such potential,” that I put a pile of bricks in the hallway and said, “I am just in the middle of renovating”. Ten years later, the pile was still there – and nothing has changed.

I hate:

• scatter cushions
• four glass vases, each containing one flower (usually a protea)
• too much curtain swagged, padded, frilled and puddled on the ground (but I do love short curtains run up by hand)
• travertine (it should all be taken to a crematorium)
• white slippery tiles scattered with what people call Persian carpets (there are about two real Persian carpets in the world, and I can assure you they are not in your house or mine)
• bad pictures (you don’t have to buy South African pictures because you are South African – the world is full of wonderful paintings for quarter the price; the worst is a mediocre picture or, God forbid, a photograph with a little light above it)
• Bourne-Gleemed floors – I love plain scrubbed floors or even cement.

In the end, a house is where you live; it is not a stage, and it takes a lifetime to create. The houses I remember: explorer Wilfred Thesiger’s simple nomadic shelter in the middle of a desert; Bruce Chatwin’s one room with a hot plate in London; and, most beautiful of all, Egyptian architect Hassan Fathy’s 14th-century Islamic house, with its winding wooden staircase and orange trees growing indoors, a peaceful place above the dangerous uproar of Khan el-Kalili souk in Cairo.

These were all places that reflected their owners, not the things they owned.

Do you agree that books are the ultimate furnishings for a room? Click here to do our “What bookshelf are you?” quiz. When you’re done, snap a shelfie in your home and send it to us to stand the chance of winning a prize. 

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A 1930s home in Johannesburg has been renovated with painstaking reference to its original Bauhaus form.

In a world where everything seems possible, it must take exceptional restraint to do only the necessary when it comes to renovating a house. Such was the discipline exercised by Johannesburg architect, Enrico Daffonchio, when it came to almost doubling the size of a Modern-era home in one of Johannesburg’s oldest suburbs.

Designed in the 1930s by Bauhaus architect Douglass Cowin, this double-storey house is a dramatic example of the Modern movement of that time. The house is a rare find in Johannesburg as not many homes were designed by the Modern architects, who were rather preoccupied with commercial and industrial designs.

In his renovation, Daffonchio was comfortable adhering to the principles of the Modern style, since he had studied the Bauhaus movement, and specifically Cowin’s work, while at university in Italy.

The perfect simplicity pf minimalism

Daffonchio, who now practises in Johannesburg, has made the Modern rules of design his own and the simplicity and honesty of Bauhaus are evident in much of his work.

However, he is the first to acknowledge that the digital age has made architectural feats possible that would never have been imagined in the past.

“Fast computers and software made a building such as the Guggenheim Museum at Bilbao possible. Who knows where we will be in 10 years’ time?”

But more of a modern Modernist himself, Daffonchio prefers to stick to the perfect simplicity of minimalism, designing spaces that are practical and that work.

“It is a less-is-more, rational, logical style – an extremely honest architecture. All structure and material is exposed. It’s what I subscribe to in my personal style of design: I like exposing the structure and materials, and use no cladding and as little paint as possible.”

This was music to the ears of his clients, who wanted their Bauhaus gem to be enlarged but to remain simple and functional. In the 1920s and 1930s, the Modern movement was a response to post-war economic realities as well as the excesses of styles such as Art Nouveau. In 2008, the new luxury is again to move away from embellishments towards the understated, pure form and simplicity.

“What is important is that the main shell of a house must be calming,” says Daffonchio. “That’s where I believe in keeping things simple and understated.”

Sensory experience

Daffonchio says he believes experiencing a house should be like reading a text where different things happen as you move through the building.

“Here, you arrive and are greeted by a hard facade. It’s closed and intimidating. But as soon as you step inside, the soaring staircase offers an uplifting contrast. The long passage, with a window and the garden at the end, draws you into the cool and calm living areas. From the dining room, a large square window looks out onto an illuminated sheet of water, the pool, to dramatic effect. The lounge, surrounded by nature and uplifted with light and music, is the most calming room in the house.”

So, what may look like an exercise in effortless simplicity, with barely an embellishment, is in fact a sensory experience that has been carefully considered from start to finish.

Daffonchio has made technical additions that remain true to the Modern ideal of everything in a building being entirely functional. For example, the climate in the glass-enclosed lounge alongside the pool is controlled by louvres that are set at a 46-degree angle, allowing maximum sun in winter and minimal sun in summer. The chimney flue from the braai was extended to beyond the height of the top-floor study, thereby taking the smoke far away from the windows. Its height has become a dramatic feature of the house.

Inside, the owners have kept furnishings simple, with a focus on collectable modern art and furniture pieces true to the Modern era and respectful of the Bauhaus style. The palette is a cool black and white, with parquet flooring stained black to pick up the colour of the steel windows. A Flos chandelier in the hall lights the sweeping staircase and double-volume window, which is what sold the house to the new owners. In the dining room, Mies van der Rohe chairs are a nod to one of the masters of that era, and the multiple-bulb chandelier is a dramatic centrepiece.

A home filled with light

The owners insisted on as much as possible of the old house being retained and mirrored in the additions. Original details such as sliding doors, door handles, fireplaces and the red steel pipe on the exterior balcony are all still in place.

The simplicity of the Modern architecture has also made it easy for the owners to give their home the personality that they choose. The design does not dominate and instead it is art, books, music and a sense of calm that greet you when you step inside.

“We wanted this to be a home filled with light and where things worked. We wanted a place that was going to be inviting to our friends – a place that we would all enjoy.” They certainly got what they wanted.

• Enrico Daffonchio: 011 447 8118, sadac@iafrica.com

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What was once a dated apartment in Cape Town has become a sophisticated home that pays tribute to the beauty of a pure-white palette – a space that’s as tranquil by day as it’s glamorous by night.

A love affair with all things white that Dawn Dickerson shared with Corné and Kobus Terblanche, made the trio the perfect interior designer and owner match when it came to designing this immaculate apartment situated on the Atlantic Seaboard’s most desirable drive. White – clean, calm, perfect. It’s resonance with all three proved to be the best foundation imaginable when they embarked on a year-long renovation project that would see the interior of the original home completely gutted in the process.

Dawn and Carmel Naudé co-own HotCocoa Interiors & Design – a five-member team that creates interiors as warm, sensuous and comforting as the drink for which they named themselves. The duo’s ability to understand the mind-set of a diverse list of residential, retail and hotel clients, including Liz McGrath of The Collection, has built them a solid reputation, word of which has reached the English capital where they are currently working their magic on a fashion store in a new mall in West London.

“A client’s needs and our skills and passion must connect,” says Dawn. “We pour a lot of attention to detail, time and energy into each project and have learned that if the job does not challenge or inspire our creativity, it does not work well. When we ‘feel’ the clients and are able to get into their heads, we are able to develop a concept that they will absolutely love.”

The brief

When it came to this project, the team was more than ready to meet the challenge presented by owners Corné and Kobus. The brief from the couple, who had lived in the apartment for six years before deciding to renovate, was for HotCocoa to create a slick, warm look that made the most of the apartment’s great position and enhanced their love for indoor-outdoor living. They especially wanted the outside deck, with its striking view of the Atlantic, to become a greater feature (it had been divided into different levels, which restricted the usage and made it feel smaller than it actually was). They also asked for a completely new kitchen and bathrooms; and wanted a third bedroom to be opened up and converted into a TV room and lounge.

After putting most of their belongings in storage, the couple moved into an available apartment upstairs from where they kept an eye on proceedings. Their extensive international travels and exposure to global design meant that they were actively involved in the development of the concept. “I enjoy it when the client has great taste and is constantly quietly ‘tapping you on the shoulder’, pushing you in a constructive way. I think this always achieves great results,” says Dawn.

She even found that her concept of “white” was challenged. Says Corné: “Dawn discovered that her idea of white is actually cream, because whenever she showed me something I’d ask her: ‘Can’t it be whiter?’ She understood perfectly and says I helped her to truly see white for the first time!”

A classic-contemporary dream

HotCocoa took the existing seeds of the Terblanche’s tasteful furnishings: the inspirational white sofas and dining table, and set about creating a classic-contemporary dream of an apartment. They were constantly aware that the appeal of a white palette lies in the feeling of spaciousness and tranquillity it creates, while the challenge lies in creating a mood of warmth and depth at the same time.

The subtle use of diverse textures to achieve interest becomes increasingly apparent the longer one spends in this space, compelling one to want to touch and stroke the surfaces: Sleek kitchen cupboards and a smooth, pristine work island contrast with the grainy earthiness of the huge fossilised shell on the coffee table; a breathtaking crystal drum chandelier above the dining table is in dramatic opposition to the bleached whale bone on the living-room wall, while glittering Swarovski-crystal bedside lamps and a high-gloss mirror frame contrast with the split-marble feature wall in the main bedroom.

Dark chocolate accents are also cleverly used to show up the white textures and surfaces, helping to create a warm and rich sensuality.

Says Dawn of the final result: “Finally, we asked Corné and Kobus to go away for a week and let us install and accessorise. They came back to a totally ‘wow’ apartment and were thrilled at how their personalities and lifestyle were reflected in the new space – it can be quite an emotional process.”

The spaces flow into each other; the deck, with its pool, masses of white cushions and over-sized planters that light up dramatically once the sun sets, is the ultimate entertainment area; and the kitchen is a glamorous focal point where Corné loves to cook surrounded by friends.

Now that their renovation project has culminated in a dream apartment that is as at home on Ocean View Drive as it would be in any of the international cities the couple travels to regularly, what’s next? “Possibly a farm cottage in the Karoo,” muses Corné. “Whatever we decide, Dawn and the team will definitely be on board.”

HotCocoa Interiors & Design: 021 424 0444, info@hotcocoa.co.za, www.hotcocoa.co.za

First published in VISI 38. See more of our favourite beach houses online and buy the Endless Summer edition of VISI for the ultimate beach house collection.

The post White glamour appeared first on Visi.

Pasta goes from hearty to arty in time for spring, with beautiful shapes, unusual colours and intriguing flavours adding a new twist to this trusty staple.

Pea and fresh rocket pasta with a lime cream and luxurious truffles

SERVES: 6
PREPARATION TIME: 15 minutes
COOKING TIME: 5 minutes

500 g cake flour
4 free-range eggs
6 free-range egg yolks
5 ml (1 t) Maldon sea salt
125 ml (½ cup) peas, blanched
60 g rocket, wilted
semolina, for rolling
250 ml (1 cup) fresh cream
zest of 2 fresh limes
2 fresh truffles, thinly sliced

Place the cake flour in a mixing bowl, make a well in the centre and add the eggs, egg yolks and salt. Combine to form a soft dough. Mash or purée the peas and rocket together, reserve half and add a small amount to the pasta dough at a time while kneading it. When the colour of the dough is rich and vibrant throughout, refrigerate it for 1 hour. Remove the dough from the fridge and, using a pasta machine or rolling pin, roll it out on a semolina-dusted surface until thin.

Cut long strips of pasta with a crinkle-cut roller, place in boiling water and cook until al dente. Drain the pasta and toss it in the reserved pea and rocket purée. Place a small saucepan on a low heat, add the cream and lime zest and gently simmer the mixture for 2 minutes until the flavours infuse. Drizzle this over the pea and rocket pasta and serve topped with slivers of fresh truffles.

Squid-ink pasta hearts with carrot parpadelle and chilli-infused olive oil

SERVES: 4-6
PREPARATION TIME: 25 minutes
COOKING TIME: 15 minutes

500 g cake flour
4 free-range eggs
free-range egg yolks
5 ml (1 t) Maldon sea salt
2 x 5 ml sachets squid ink (available at specialty delis)
3 carrots, cooked and puréed
semolina, for rolling
60 ml (4 T) olive oil
2 large fresh red chillies, chopped

Place the flour in a mixing bowl, make a well in the centre and add the eggs, egg yolks and salt. Combine to form a soft dough. Divide the dough in half, add the squid ink to one half and knead together thoroughly. To the remaining dough, slowly add the puréed carrots while kneading until the colour is rich and vibrant throughout. Refrigerate for 1 hour. Remove the dough from the fridge and roll out the differently coloured halves until thin on a semolina-dusted surface using a pasta machine or rolling pin.

Use a heart-shaped cookie cutter to cut out pasta shapes and, leaving the frames intact, cook the pasta until al dente. (Cook the differently coloured pastas separately to prevent the colours from running into each other.) Place a small saucepan on a low heat, add the olive oil and chopped red chillies and simmer gently for a few minutes until the oil begins to change colour and infuse with the chilli flavour. Blitz until creamy. Serve the squid-ink pasta hearts underneath the carrot hearts for a dramatic effect, and drizzle the chilli oil over the pasta.

Chocolate pasta biscuits with vanilla-encrusted salt and olive oil 

SERVES: 6
PREPARATION TIME: 15 minutes
COOKING TIME: 5 minutes

500 g cake flour
4 free-range eggs
6 free-range egg yolks
5 ml (1 t) Maldon sea salt
100 g dark chocolate, melted
45 ml (3 T) cocoa
extra cocoa, for rolling
15 ml (1 T) butter
5 ml (1 t) vanilla extract
1 vanilla pod, seeds removed
15 ml (1 T) intact Maldon sea salt crystals
organic olive oil, to drizzle

Preheat the oven to 180ºC. Place the flour in a bowl, make a well and add the eggs, egg yolks and salt. Combine to form a soft dough. Add the melted dark chocolate and cocoa. Knead the dough until everything is thoroughly combined and the colour is rich and dark throughout, and refrigerate for 1 hour. Remove the dough from the fridge and, using a pasta machine or rolling pin, roll it out until thin on a cocoa-powder-dusted surface. Use a flower-shaped cookie cutter to cut out shapes.

Place the butter in a hot pan and, when melted, add the chocolate pasta flowers. Turn the flowers after 1 minute and drain them on kitchen towel. Carefully rub the vanilla extract and seeds into the Maldon sea salt crystals and then place on a baking tray in the oven for 5 minutes. Finally, sprinkle the vanilla salt over the chocolate pasta biscuits and add a drizzle of organic olive oil.

Magenta beetroot pasta folds with coconut and porcini mushroom cubes

SERVES: 4-6
PREPARATION TIME: 15 minutes
COOKING TIME: 15 minutes

500 g cake flour
4 free-range eggs
6 free-range egg yolks
5 ml (1 t) Maldon sea salt
8 beetroots, cooked and peeled semolina, for rolling
30 ml (2 T) olive oil
6 fresh porcini mushrooms, diced
250 ml (1 cup) cream
¼ fresh coconut, opened and cleaned

Place the flour in a mixing bowl, make a well in the centre and add the eggs, egg yolks and salt. Combine to form a soft dough. Mash or purée the beetroot. Reserve half and then add a little at a time to the pasta dough, kneading until thoroughly combined and the colour is rich and vibrant. Refrigerate for 1 hour. Remove the dough from the fridge and, using a rolling pin or pasta machine, roll it out until thin on a semolina-dusted surface.

Place a non-stick pan over a medium to high heat, add the olive oil and, once warm, add the mushrooms and cook until golden. Place a small saucepan on a medium to low heat, add the reserved puréed beetroot and cream and warm through. Boil the long strips of beetroot pasta until al dente. Use a grater or sharp knife to create thin strands of fresh coconut. Toss the pasta in the beetroot cream and top it with the golden porcini mushrooms and coconut strands.

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The best way to enhance the beauty, colours, textures and fragrances of spring flowers is with informal, loose groupings. Here’s how to create an uplifting spring portfolio.

Tokyo nightclub

Create a glamorous evening look by combining classic black-and-white pieces with exotic flowers and a hint of red.

FLOWERS: Indian cedar (Cedrus deodara), wax tree (Rhus succedanea), white orchids (Cymbidium spp.) and apricot camellia (Camellia japonica ‘Desire’).

Afro-asian

Make a statement by contrasting African and Eastern elements: A black vase, reminiscent of a traditional African pot and containing seeds, complements the delicate white orchids of Asia.

FLOWERS: Delicious monster fruits and pods (Monstera deliciosa), forest lily (Veltheimia capensis ‘White hybrid’) and white orchids (Phalaenopsis amabilis ‘White’).

Deliberate misfit

Single flowers in a variety of colours may not match according to conventional wisdom, but they can be artfully united to form an eye-catching spring-time posy.

FLOWERS: Red rose (Rosa ‘Alec’s red’), red hot poker (Kniphofia uvaria), bleached pink rose (Rosa ‘French Panarosa’), giant reed (Arundo donax), French lavender (Lavandula dentata), lilac chrysanthemum (Chrysanthemum ‘Ludmilla’) sweet William (Dianthus barbatus ‘Trix’), ornamental cabbage (Brassica oleracea) and pear tree (Pyrus communis).

New Colonial

A backdrop of botanical fabric is an excellent point of departure for a composition that blurs the lines between two- and three-dimensional perception.

FLOWERS: Lilac chrysanthemum (Chrysanthemum ‘Ludmilla’), bleached pink rose (Rosa ‘French Panarosa’), green carnation (Dianthus ‘Green’), ivy (Hedera helix), pink orchid (Phalaenopsis amabilis ‘Pink’), red rose (Rosa ‘Alec’s red’) and French lavender (Lavandula dentata).

Dutch blues

Delft Blue ceramic pieces were the inspiration behind this simple, intimate arrangement.

FLOWERS: White protea (Protea repens ‘White”), white chrysanthemum (Chrysanthemum indicum), ornamental cabbage (Brassica oleracea) and delphiniums (Delphinium x belladonna ‘Völkerfrieden’).

Blue mirror

Glass, steel and silver create a reflective backdrop for bold blooms in black, purple and blue.

FLOWERS: Purple tulip (Tulipa ‘Purpurea’), black phalaenopsis orchid* (Phalaenopsis amabilis ‘White’), black cymbidium orchid* (Cymbidium spp.), red hot poker* (Kniphofia uvaria), magenta dendrobium (Dendrobium ‘Madame Pompadour’), French lavender (Lavandula dentata), gentian (Gentiana asclepiadea) and pear tree (Pyrus communis). *Sprayed with Plascon Aerolak Matt Black.

Watsonia silhouette

Turn a light window into a feature by placing thin, bold flowers in a vase with an unusual shape to create a graphic silhouette.

FLOWERS: Beatrice watsonia (Watsonia beatricis), bachelor’s balls (Aschlepia rotundifolia), sweet William (Dianthus barbatus ‘Trix’) and coneflower (Echinacea purpurea).

Medieval bulb print

Inspired by medieval-style pewter and fabric printed with oversized bulbs, this simple arrangement has been loosely and informally bound to create an almost primitive look.

FLOWERS: Ornamental cabbage (Brassica oleracea), chrysanthemum (Chrysanthemum ‘Yoko Ono’), green carnation (Dianthus ‘Green’) giant reed (Arundo donax) and flax (Phormium tenax).

Micro/Macro

Bright and bold background fabric creates a striking contrast with the small, basic arrangement positioned on it.

FLOWERS: Green carnations (Dianthus ‘Green’), single orchid leaf (Phalaenopsis amabilis) and single climbing aloe bud (Aloe ciliaris).

Mad hatter

Try this new twist on a traditional spring arrangement. Roses and tulips are rarely used together—yet here, the contrasting colours are jauntily positioned tulips result in a playful, energetic creation.

FLOWERS: Purple tulip (Tulipa ‘Purpurea’), yellow roses (Rosa ‘Gold strike’) and green carnation (Dianthus ‘Green’).

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