Indoor kitchens we have built — page 2

The linear kitchen stretches along the back wall with its glossy wooden volumes and mirror-finish splashback, doubling the light and lightening the wall; before it, the central island imposes its presence: a block of Carrara marble with dramatic veining, broad and decisive, coursing through the stone like the currents of a river in flood. At its side, the wooden top of the fast-lunch area joins the block naturally, and two white stools await breakfast. The pale oak floor keeps the whole scene warm. Marble block: the name says it all. To treat marble as volume rather than cladding means selecting imposing slabs and governing their drawing on every visible face, with joints that honour the flow of the veins. It is the art Michelessi practises to measure, uniting the Italian artisan tradition with contemporary precision: a block of Carrara at the centre of the home, and life gladly turning around it.

Everything is ready, and nothing is on show: the white lacquered kitchen opens its doors with a simple push, the hood has vanished into the counter, and the black composite marble top spreads its dark, compact surface, interrupted only by the induction hob and the sink with its spring mixer. Column ovens, aligned in the white wall, complete the equipment with discretion. This is operative minimalism in its most mature form: the technology is there, but asks for no attention; the working surface is generous, continuous, ready for anything. Black composite is the right choice for this register: uniform, stain-resistant, elegant without fragility. Michelessi's bespoke workmanship attends to the recesses — induction, basin, retracting hood — with the precision the finest workshops reserve for serious things: because true elegance, in the kitchen, is the kind that works every day without ever drawing attention to itself.

The lights of the city glitter beyond the glazing, and inside, the scene gathers around the peninsula: from the volume in Grigio Aitos marble, coursed by dense, tumultuous veining, extends the annexed table — the same stone, carried on a steel structure that makes it appear suspended. Grey chairs arrange themselves around it, and a row of luminous spheres descends from the ceiling like a necklace of lit pearls. Behind, the white lacquered kitchen works in silence, with its ordered counters and soft reflections. Grigio Aitos is a marble of strong character: its dense drawing asks for generous surfaces to express itself, and here it has found them. Extending a peninsula into a table of stone is an exercise in equilibrium — weights, overhangs, anchorings — which Michelessi's bespoke stonework resolves with the competence of Italian craftsmanship: matter in the service of conviviality, even on the twentieth floor.

There is the flavour of family houses in this kitchen: cream cabinets with a gentle design, a wooden window framing the green, and grey granite running along the counter and rising into the matching upstand, its dense grain of greys and whites concealing every trace of the everyday. At the centre, the surprise: the oval island, a granite top with full curves resting on a wooden cabinet, like a stone table made for kneading, chatting, laying places. Gas burners, a steel sink, candid doors: everything in its place, in no hurry to astonish. The oval silhouette is a working that tests the hand: the curved edge must be continuous, uniform, soft beneath the fingers along its entire perimeter. It is the craft Michelessi has exercised to measure for generations, with the patience of Italian craftsmanship: giving stone the forms of domestic life, and domestic life the solidity of stone.

The island defies the habits of the eye: the granite top, broad and solid, widens above a base that narrows toward the floor — a reverse pyramid that seems to hold the stone in balance by sleight of hand. Around it, the kitchen reassures: white wooden cabinets of classic design, built-in steel appliances, granite counters running along the wall, spotlights raining light onto the stage of the display. It is a project that demonstrates faith in statics and in matter: to carry such an overhang demands serious calculation, hidden anchorings and a stone equal to the task. Granite, with its compactness, accepts the challenge gladly. Michelessi's bespoke workmanship takes care of the rest: profiles, counterweights, invisible joints, with a competence never intimidated by audacious geometry. Because even equilibrium, when it is well built, becomes a form of elegance.

Colour is this kitchen's first greeting: the antiqued yellow of the cabinets, patinated like a family heirloom rediscovered, converses with grey walls and the light from the windows. At the centre, the granite island reveals its shaded drawing — waves of green, yellow and grey chasing one another through the stone — and integrates the induction hob beneath the suspended steel hood; a second granite counter continues at the back, toward the dining table already laid. Steel appliances and a mosaic splashback complete the equipment. It is a project unafraid of personality: colour where warmth is needed, stone where substance is needed. The shaded granite, with its natural movement, binds the two registers with elegance. Michelessi's bespoke workmanship honours its drawing, orienting the cuts and refining the edges in the manner of the Italian workshop: because every slab has its right direction, and finding it is half of beauty.

A stone-effect wall forms the neutral backdrop, and track spotlights rain pointed light onto the protagonist: the great Carrara marble island, with its integrated sink and the fast-lunch section where three black stools line up in good order. The stone descends along the sides and draws a compact, luminous volume, crossed by discreet veins; behind, dark wood columns create the contrast that gives the whole scene its depth, while a potted tree brings a note of living green. It is the formula of the well-tempered contemporary: white and dark, stone and wood, technical light and ancient matter. Carrara marble, cut to measure, holds the centre of the composition with the ease of a champion. Michelessi attends to every step — slab selection, cuts, recesses, finish — with the rigour of Italian craftsmanship: because an island like this is the heart of the home, and the heart admits no approximation.

The sink area plays on two heights: the working counter and the raised parapet, both in white veined marble, screening the work and offering an extra resting surface — a double level that organises the gestures and shields the view from the dining area. Around it, the classic corner kitchen unfolds white cabinets, column ovens and the warm light of pendant lamps; at the centre, the illuminated island carries its marble top upon a midnight-blue wooden base, a deep colour that gives character to the whole room. It is a project that proves how functional tradition can be: every level, every height, every material has a precise task. Bespoke marble work — counters, upstands, double thicknesses — is the key that holds form and service together: Michelessi executes it with the experience of Italian craftsmanship, where elegance is never separated from use. The midnight blue, then, does the rest: an author's touch.

Light has found its home: the kitchen combines white quartz — uniform, brilliant, tireless — with Carrara marble, which brings its natural veining to the central island and the cladding of the cooking wall. The modern steel sink, recessed into the island top, reflects the row of spotlights; white lacquered columns dissolve into the walls, and at the far end the dining area opens toward the garden with its dark chairs neatly aligned. The herringbone wooden floor adds the warmth that white alone could not give. Pairing quartz and marble is an intelligent choice: to the first, the daily performance; to the second, the nobility of natural drawing — and to the eye, the pleasure of never noticing the boundary. Michelessi's bespoke work sews the two materials together with coherent thicknesses and finishes, in the tradition of Italian craftsmanship: two materials, one luminous breath — the simple formula of kitchens that endure.

The corner is the heart of this masonry kitchen: the great white-plastered hood descends like a sail above the fire zone, where the oven sets into the pale stone with its mouth ready to warm; to one side, the second black oven awaits its turn, and the gas hob gleams on the other arm of the travertine counter. Below, solid walnut doors with worked frames close the masonry compartments, while the glazed terracotta floor returns the room's warm light. This is the domestic architecture of the hearth, updated with intelligence: masonry for solidity and memory, travertine for generous, tireless counters, wood to warm the gaze and the hands. Building such a corner requires a dialogue of several trades — mason, marble-worker, cabinetmaker — orchestrated by Michelessi's bespoke practice: kitchens still built the old way, to outlast any fashion.

The dark wooden shelf crosses the wall carrying ceramic plates and kitchen woods, hung and leaned as in a family workshop; below, the travertine counter hosts the sink and the battery of gas burners, while in the corner the stone structure of the oven advances with its generous presence. Solid walnut doors, framed in pale masonry, punctuate the base; a woven mat softens the terracotta underfoot. This is the daily life of a well-lived masonry kitchen: everything within reach, everything solid, everything true. Here the stonework serves practicality — continuous counters, corners put to work, surfaces that bear pans and years — without renouncing the grace of the finishes. It is the way of building that Michelessi defends in its bespoke work: kitchens conceived for real cooking, where beauty is not ornament but domestic substance, resting on travertine and walnut.

Ivana is a kitchen scented with embers and bread: at the heart of the project stand the eco wood-fired oven and the barbecue, set into oat-coloured Roman travertine masonry, with Noce travertine edging warming the perimeter of the counters. Solid fir doors, stained light walnut, close the compartments with their gentle frames; the hob, the sink and the Franke hood bring modern technique into the traditional scheme without betraying its spirit. Shelves with amphorae, the great plastered hood, terracotta underfoot: every element belongs to the same story — that of kitchens built for families who gather around the fire. Roman travertine is the silent protagonist: the builders' stone for two thousand years, worked here to measure in counters, edges and upstands, in the finest tradition of Italian craftsmanship. This is what Michelessi carries forward: masonry kitchens with a proper name, and a character that is not forgotten.

The plastered hood opens like a great shell above the corner of fire: here the oven set into the pale stone reveals its metal mouth, ready for bread and Sunday trays, while beside it the modern black oven completes the equipment. On the left arm of the counter, steel gas burners; below, light walnut doors with moulded frames, set into the oat-coloured masonry. The polished terracotta floor returns the room's warm light. This is the corner every masonry kitchen dreams of having: the point where the tradition of fire meets contemporary comfort, with neither made to yield. Its construction demands a marble-worker's precision and an oven-builder's wisdom: calibrated recesses, stone that bears the heat, wood kept at the proper distance. It is the bespoke orchestration Michelessi conducts with long experience: because fire, in a home, deserves a frame built to the highest standard.

The whole grammar of the country house is in this frame: the dark shelf with its plates and hanging boards, the travertine counter carrying the sink and gas burners, the oven corner advancing with its architecture of pale stone, and walnut-toned doors framed in oat-coloured masonry. A mat spread on the terracotta, an iron chair just visible: details of real life, not of a catalogue. The Ivana kitchen proves that bespoke is no abstract luxury: it is the possibility of having the oven where it is needed, the barbecue beside it, counters at one's own height, materials that age with grace. Roman travertine, with its warm porosity, and solid wood, with its patina, are ideal travelling companions: they ask only to be worked by hands that know them. Those are the hands Michelessi devotes to every project: because the true family kitchen is built only once.

Here it is, the moment no catalogue shows: the kitchen halfway, still in the silence of a room that is a home already and a worksite yet. The apricot walls, the dark glazed cabinet with its glassware, the terracotta floor: the life of before is all there. And in the middle, the base of the future kitchen in freshly laid travertine, the stone blocks aligned, the curve of the counter beginning to draw itself, the passage to the next room awaiting its perimeter. A shaft of sunlight cuts the floor and lights the very point where the work stopped. There are no effects here: there is the craft, with its tempo and its seriousness. The Letizia masonry kitchen is born this way, piece by piece, from the hands of those who know the stone and respect it: every block of Roman travertine set true to the level, every curve built before it is ever refined. This is the heart of what Michelessi preserves: work done in the client's home, to measure, with the silent pride of knowing this kitchen will last — and that someone, twenty years from now, will still be cooking Sunday lunch here.

The perimeter is complete: the counters run along both walls and meet in the corner, crowned by the shaped Noce travertine upstand drawing its umber waves against the yellow of the walls; in the foreground, the round table in dark stone, polished and full, docks to the composition like a point of stillness. The compartments beneath the counter still await their doors, the hob is already recessed: the Letizia kitchen stands one step from its debut. This phase has a beauty all its own: the naked construction, the sincerity of the masonry, the quality of the materials before the finishing dresses them. The Roman travertine of the counters, the walnut tones of the upstands, the stone of the table: every element is already in place, cut and shaped to measure for this room. It is the Michelessi method, craftsmanship without shortcuts: build well, check everything, and only at the end hand over the keys to a kitchen that already belongs to the house.

Michelle lives in the open air: beneath a roof of wooden beams, between dry-stone walls, the rustic kitchen in sandblasted brick spreads its warm volumes, crowned by a travertine top that binds barbecue, burners and work zone into a single surface of stone. The barbecue fireplace is the heart of the project — the promise of grilled feasts and warm bread — flanked by the oven; chestnut doors close the compartments with the most honest wood of the Italian forests. Terracotta underfoot completes the palette of true materials. This is the kitchen of long summers, of lunches that end at sundown: built in masonry, made to withstand seasons and years. Bespoke travertine work — counters, edges, recesses — gives Michelle her elegant solidity: Italian craftsmanship applied to conviviality, which has always been its oldest vocation. Because cooking outdoors, after all, is the most festive way of being together.

The summer sun beats down on the site and the brick structure now stands complete: the barbecue base, the oven opening, the shoulder that will carry the worktop. The travertine, freshly laid, already marks the working line. All around, dry-stone walls of local stone close the courtyard and act as a backdrop: the kitchen is born inside an enclosure of stone, the way it used to be done.

The flue stands in place, rising above the stone wall, and the site has entered its finishing phase: the barbecue hood is closed, the travertine worktops are laid and cleaned, only the last touches to the joints remain. This is the moment when an outdoor kitchen stops being an idea and starts to look like itself.

The room is large and luminous, its wooden-beamed ceiling lending the breath of a restored barn: at the centre of the wall, the future Paola kitchen is growing — the golden stone mosaic rising around the fireplace, the masonry compartments awaiting their doors, the artisan working intently among the marks and materials of the site. On the floor, slabs ready for laying; on the white wall, the traces of services already run. This is the structural moment of the bespoke: when it is decided where everything will pass, and the stone begins to dress the masonry piece by piece. Mosaic cladding demands eye and patience: the stone tesserae must be paired by tone and size, so the result seems to have grown naturally around the fire. It is the craft Michelessi brings to its worksites: building kitchens the way houses are built — to remain. Paola, here, is putting down roots.

The island is a small stepped architecture: two levels of Nero Africa granite — the cooking top with its cast-iron burners and, lower, the serving surface protruding like a tray of stone — carried on a structure in the warm tones of Persian travertine, its open compartments keeping bottles and crockery within reach. Around it, the kitchen continues with dark counters, a steel sink and doors with burnished frames; the dark wooden floor gives depth to the whole scene. Nero Africa granite is a guarantee: extremely hard, lustrous, tireless beneath the pans; the double level organises the gestures — here one cooks, there one rests and serves. It is the intelligent customisation that distinguishes projects conceived with the people who will live them: measures, heights and materials tailored to real habits. Michelessi realises it with its own bespoke stonework, in the lineage of Italian craftsmanship: the sturdiness of a workbench, the elegance of a drawing room.

Seen as a whole, the Stefania kitchen reveals its complete design: the central island with Nero Africa granite tops on two heights, the cast-iron hob recessed into the dark stone, and the structure in the warm tones of Persian travertine bearing it all with its practical compartments. Along the perimeter, the sink and steel hood, the electric oven and warm-toned base units complete the equipment, while red accents light the scene here and there. It is a customised kitchen in the fullest sense: every material chosen for its task — cast iron for the flame, granite for the work, travertine for visual warmth — and every height drawn on the habits of those who use it. Making stones so different live together requires the sure hand of bespoke workmanship: thicknesses, joints and finishes that Michelessi governs with long experience. Stefania is the result: personal, solid, ready for anything.

The writing on the wall declares it with a wink: this is a kitchen made for dancing. And the atmosphere does invite: the dark volumes of the wooden structure absorb the light, the Laminam top spreads its thin, technical surface with induction hob and sink integrated, and the counter gathers leather stools where friends sit while someone cooks. Black bell lamps descend in a row, yellow flowers brighten the top, the double oven and built-in refrigerator work within the columns. This is the contemporary convivial kitchen: dark, enveloping, made for evenings that stretch long. Laminam — thin, high-performance ceramic — is the ideal partner for this way of living: it resists scratches, heat and stains without asking for attention. Michelessi's bespoke work integrates it into the structure with the care of Italian craftsmanship: because even a kitchen that dances needs solid foundations.

The windows frame the green of the garden, and the kitchen answers with a palette worthy of a magazine: walnut columns and wall units with elegant grain, a slate-grey island with golden handles glinting discreetly, a pale stoneware top and the great dark panel behind the cooking zone, crowned by the chimney hood. On the island, fruit and cutting boards tell of daily use; dark stools await breakfast. The kitchen comprises doors, drawers, integrated sink, hob with oven and hood: a complete equipment, intelligently arranged. The stoneware counters work in silence — resistant, uniform, without caprice — leaving wood and brass to warm the scene. It is the balance Michelessi's indoor kitchens seek in every bespoke project: technical materials and noble materials, sewn together by Italian craftsmanship. The garden, from the window, approves. And the brass, dosed like this, is never an excess: it is punctuation, well placed.

There is an air of a true home in this kitchen: the base in glossy, rustic-grained solid wood carries the pale counter with its white ceramic sink — the deep kind found in family kitchens; above, cream wall units with gentle frames alternate with the open shelves of the grey dresser, where plates and jars live in the light. Under-cabinet lights kindle the worktop, and the window at the back brings in the green of the garden. It is a kitchen with shelves, dresser and drawers fitted with containers: the practical organisation of houses that work, dressed in materials that warm the gaze. Glossy solid wood is the protagonist: alive, grained, resistant, able to age while improving. This is the philosophy of Michelessi's indoor kitchens: made to measure in dimensions and details, solid in substance, with Italian craftsmanship guaranteeing that every drawer glides well today and in twenty years. Because daily life deserves beauty without fragility.

The project plays on two voices: the white of the framed wall units, keeping the wall luminous with its glass fronts and ordered shelves, and the anthracite of the central island, gathering the four-burner cooker and its service compartments beneath black industrial-style lamps. The island's pale top spreads the working space; diamond-pattern tiles behind the cooking zone add their discreet texture, and the kitchen is completed by sink, oven and doors down to the last need. It is the classic-contemporary contrast that never tires: light above, dark at the centre, and function always in first place. The lacquered wood structure provides solidity and clean finishes; the bespoke does the rest, fitting the island to the room's true proportions. It is the method of Michelessi's indoor kitchens, with craftsmanship in the details: well-set hinges, surfaces drawn taut, and a kitchen ready to work for years.

The island is a faceted sculpture: the volume's inclined planes, clad in dark porcelain stoneware, meet like the faces of a black diamond, and upon it gleam the golden sink and tapware — a precious flash in the penumbra. Behind, the equipped wall alternates backlit niches where the green of plants and the amber of bottles light small scenes; slender golden lamps descend from the ceiling. This is a project that does not court easy approval: it chooses elegant darkness, audacious geometry, the precious detail. Porcelain stoneware makes the daring possible: continuous, resistant surfaces, able to dress even inclined planes without losing uniformity. The bar corner and integrated sink complete the function. It is the most scenographic face of Michelessi's indoor kitchens: bespoke even in its courage, with Italian craftsmanship turning an angular idea into an impeccable object, ready for the evenings that count. For those who set the table the way a curtain rises: three, two, one — light.