“I let the building dictate how we live,” states sculptor Lucille Lewin, her words a quiet manifesto for the delicate interplay of space and sensibility that defines her home in the London borough of Marylebone. Once an early Victorian school, the structure now marries heritage with the minimalistic ethos that infuses her art, creating a residence that whispers rather than shouts – a sanctuary of light, texture and material honesty. Lewin, the founder of the clothing store Whistles and former creative director of Liberty, the designer department store, has spent decades translating ephemeral trends into enduring style. But it was clay – not couture – that ultimately captivated her. A chance visit to a pottery class led to an epiphany, as she recounts, “I fell in love with the smell of the damp, slightly dusty basement studio . . . I pulled off a corner of freshly unwrapped clay and began to make and never stopped.”
This sense of organic evolution courses through her home, which she and her husband transformed with the guidance of Seth Stein Architects. The couple respected the building’s original identity, embracing its towering ceilings, immense windows and unpretentious charm. “We kept it as a school,” Lewin explains. “The ground floor is one enormous room separated from the garden courtyards by glass, retaining the spirit of the playground it once was.” Inside, Lewin’s aesthetic leans toward serene palettes and tactile materials. “I use a restricted palette of natural neutrals – stone, untreated wood, marble, steel and glass. It’s not deliberate – it’s a respect for the material, to leave it as natural as possible.” This philosophy aligns with her sculptural practice, where porcelain, glass and metal explore narratives of impermanence and regeneration. Her home, like her art, resists excess, offering instead an interplay of light and space that evolves with the seasons.
“I let the building dictate how we live,” states sculptor Lucille Lewin.
Lewin’s work is often inspired by grand themes – climate change, artificial intelligence, body dysmorphia – but her home is a meditation on simplicity. Artworks, including her own, are displayed on long shelves that morph with her whims. “We don’t hang paintings,” she states. “It’s all designed to move as summer turns to winter or a new piece arrives from the studio.” That studio, a 45-minute walk away in Bloomsbury, is a deliberate departure from her living space. “I like the separation of work and life. It brings discipline and rhythm to my day.”
When asked about her favorite corner, Lewin doesn’t hesitate. “My bathroom and my daily bath, where I dream awake.” It’s a small indulgence in a life guided by restraint, a moment to drift while surrounded by the serenity she’s so carefully cultivated. As Lewin prepares for an upcoming show with Tristan Hoare Gallery, her home remains aligned with the quiet power of listening – to materials, to architecture, to the gentle call of creativity. “The greatest challenge,” she reflects, “was to leave the building be, not to overdesign it, to respect what it wanted.”
Photography by Ingrid Rasmussen.
Like what you see? Get it first with a subscription to aspire design and home magazine.