No matter how respectful Pieterjan’s approach was, his intervention still has all the ambition of a Gesamtkunstwerk. The owners gave him a free rein and ample time to think so that he could deliberate on his decisions and work them out in detail. And it shows. The castle is chock-a-block with thoughtful ideas, each and every one of which is justified in its context. Downstairs, in the two ‘original’ rooms from 1906, the Ghent interior architect introduced Fornasetti wallpaper, Veranneman furniture, and a mobile library in aluminum. When slid into place, the book cabinet takes up all of what used to be the cloakroom. The thirteen meter high stair hall is dominated by mediaeval keep, a new staircase in solid oak, and a brownish trompe l’oeil floor. Why? It used to be the stable, with a floor of trampled earth. So Pieterjan photographed a mediaeval earthen floor and had a replica painted. These are the sort of narrative details that prove how far Pieterjan went in his research, design, and craftsmanship for this castle. The castle was not renovated or restored in a blindly nostalgic fashion but meticulously prepared to become the scene for new stories to be written.
Even on relatively small surfaces, like this first boutique for Hieronymous in Zurich, Glenn Sestig manages to express his monumental visual language.