Almost a decade ago, industry analysts were predicting the decline of the hotel. Decentralised and cheap peer-to-peer business models such as Airbnb were supposedly sounding a death knell. Initially, I must admit, it was a thrill to stay in somebody else’s home and go through their medicine cabinet (I wore the cologne of a man named Matt for the duration of a week-long stay on New York’s Upper West Side in 2013). It was predicated on the notion that, by staying in someone else’s residence, you would have a home-away-from-home experience of slotting into somebody else’s life.

But the novelty is fast wearing off and the consensus seems to be that travellers are returning to hotels for a host of different reasons. Latterly, staying in an Airbnb usually comes with a chore list to complete on check-out; inconsistent property quality is also a factor. My holidays this summer have also helped pinpoint a design issue that’s worth considering too. “You need a house that speaks for itself – the best hotels have good hardware for visitors to enjoy,” explains Constantin Ziegenhain of the Chesa Grischuna in Klosters, whose “hardware” is a multi-storey Bündner Haus – a rural residence defined by heavy stone masonry and deep-set timber forms. Originally a simple wooden inn, it was transformed in the 1930s by Zürich-based architect Hermann Schneider, who commissioned illustrator Alois Carigiet to paint murals on the façade. A bowling alley and grand dining room also define the property. Chesa Grischuna’s guestbook, says Ziegenhain, spans the globe – some people travel here just to seek out the murals.

This international pursuit is a reminder that so much of a holiday is built around the environments in which we immerse ourselves – a well-designed hotel, with outstanding “hardware”, can dictate how guests move and feel; how they interact with each other and the surrounding environment over the course of their stay. It’s a level of consideration that simply can’t be replicated by a stay in someone else’s home. The newly opened Teffont House (pictured, above) in Wiltshire is another prime example. Co-owned by Charlie Luxton, whose design sensibilities have been shaped by the likes of London-based Ilse Crawford, the new hotel by the Beckford Group sits in a centuries-old stone house, complete with grand gothic windows and dramatic eaves. Working with designer Natasha Hidvegi, Luxton created a series of distinct public spaces for guests, spanning an orangery, a bar, a lounge, a brasserie-style dining room and an outdoor terrace with Sénat chairs.

“It’s important to have little areas with different moods,” he says. “You might have a high table where you do some work, a lounge where you sit back and read the paper, then a more upright setting where you can talk. It’s about creating a series of vignettes.” Added to this is the fact that the property doesn’t look to separate itself from its base of Teffont Evias: the reception opens onto the road that runs through the small village and its outdoor spaces, including badminton and croquet courts in a walled garden, sit on the other side of the thoroughfare.

Both projects are a demonstration of the fact that, yes, good hotel design is about the details but also the orchestration of a variety of experiences and movements. “It’s fascinating, the power that the design of a hotel has over how people behave when they’re staying,” adds Luxton. At least in my case, it was a much more powerful force in shaping my holiday experience than cologne from Matt on the Upper West Side.

Beckford beckons: For more from the Beckford group, head to monocle.com for a round-up of exceptionally designed hospitality spaces.

Nic Monisse is Monocle’s design editor. For more news and analysis, subscribe to Monocle today.

Interior-architecture studio Auñón Cabrera’s latest project, a home in Costa Blanca, is an exercise in reinvention. The Alicante-based firm kept the original terracotta floor as an anchor point that flows across both levels and to the pool area for seamless indoor-outdoor living. “Terracotta has deep roots in Mediterranean architecture and brings a real honesty to a space,” says the studio’s founder, María José Auñón Cabrera. “The flooring, which runs through the entire house, became the project’s guiding thread – it shaped every other decision on materials, colours and textures. Everything else had to speak to it, not compete with it.”

Existing stone masonry walls and curved archways – typical of the breezy architectural style of southeast Spain – were also retained, with the project making use of natural materials to further engage with the locale. “Living on the Costa Blanca means having a very specific relationship with light, climate and the way a home is used,” says Cabrera. “We chose oak, pine, linen, natural fibers and terracotta because they age with dignity, gain character through use and build a closer relationship with the people who live with them.” Furnishing choices have been intentionally pared back and upgraded from being solely functional to becoming part of the architecture. The result is an effortlessly cohesive space that proves minimalism isn’t always cold and that original floors, where possible, should really be kept.
aunoncabrerainteriorismo.com

Dimitris Karampatakis is the founding partner of K-Studio, an Athens-based architecture and design firm that he runs with his brother Konstantinos. With projects that span the Mediterranean basin, from Ibiza to the Greek islands of Samos and Mykonos, Karampatakis’s approach to design is one that is firmly rooted in place. He tells us about tapping into the intelligence of landscape and why Athens effortlessly embodies the Italian concept of sprezzatura. 

Is there a particular design movement that has influenced you? 
Rather than a design movement, I’d say the local vernacular architecture of each place. Every project begins by understanding the already embedded intelligence – its landscape, climate, materials and the ways that people have built there over generations. Vernacular architecture is an evolutionary process refined over centuries and it’s where we consistently find the richest lessons.

The sky’s the limit: which piece of furniture would you love to own?
The dining table En Forme Libre by Charlotte Perriand. It’s an incredibly generous piece, quiet, timeless and designed around gathering. More than an object, it celebrates one of the rituals that I value most: sharing a meal with family and friends. 

A favourite project that you’ve worked on?
Liknon, the brand house for Metaxa liquor on the Greek island of Samos. It gave us the rare opportunity to use architecture as a medium for storytelling. We were invited to tell the story of a place, its vineyard, its landscape and its origins. It allowed us to move beyond function and create an experience that celebrates the uniqueness of that location in a way that feels both authentic and unexpected.

A recurring source of inspiration?
Landscape. Each one contains its own intelligence through its geography, its climate, its history and the everyday rituals that have evolved there over time. The more carefully you observe, the more generous those places become as sources of inspiration. 

A dream commission?
Oddly enough, it’s the one I’m working on now: our own home. Designing it with my wife, who is both an architect and an artist, has become an intensely personal process. It’s equal parts architecture, couples therapy and psychoanalysis. It forces us to ask how we truly live today, and how we hope to live in the future. That makes it the most honest design brief that I’ve ever had.

A priority for you and the design industry going forward?
Human-centric design. Architecture should improve the relationship between people, culture and nature, rather than simply generate more consumption. Our responsibility is not to design more but to design better: with restraint, empathy and a clearer sense of what truly adds value to people’s lives. 

Which city has the best design scene?
Athens. Its contradictions are precisely what make it so inspiring. The city has an extraordinary history, yet it also possesses a certain chaos that encourages freedom and experimentation. There’s an effortless quality to its design culture – an authenticity that comes from living rather than styling life. The Italians have a wonderful word for it: sprezzatura. Athens embodies that spirit remarkably well.

For more insight from leading architects and designers, tune in to ‘Monocle on Design’ on Monocle Radio.

Greek greats: Dimitris Karampatakis is just one of a cohort of outstanding architects to have emerged from Greece in the last decade. Head to monocle.com to read about this talented group of designers that have reshaped design within the country and beyond.

Whether you believe in astrology or not, anybody would be pleased to get a divination of good fortune with their cocktail. That is, at least, what textile artist Marguerita Mergentime must have thought when designing the Wish Fulfillment napkins in 1939. These printed cloth serviettes depict the occult arts of phrenology, numerology, palmistry and more, all invariably predicting health, wealth and success for the lucky holder. 

Few designers have made more efforts to enliven dinner parties than Mergentime, and these simultaneously sincere and tongue-in-cheek serviettes make for ideal party accessories. Starting in the 1930s in New York, the designer worked closely with avant garde modernists and mass-market department stores. Her designs also included Table Talk, a series of linens printed with cheeky conversation prompts. Even though the fear of a dull dinner party is a perennial one, Mergentime’s textiles are today out of production and near-impossible to find. For a collection of reissues, these optimistic napkins would be an auspicious place to start.

How can a physical space capture the essence of a brand? Multidisciplinary practices Studio Sabine Marcelis and Cloud sought to answer that question through a collaboration with Australia’s National Gallery of Victoria for its new exhibition on Cartier. The two Rotterdam-based firms worked to create an exhibition design inspired by colour, light and materiality, the three elements that have defined the French luxury house’s jewellery for 179 years.

Visitors to the showcase, which runs until 4 October, enter through a 27-metre-long corridor featuring a faceted mirrored wall that references classic diamond cuts. Inside, nearly 400 objects, as well as archival design drawings, sketchbooks and photographs, are presented in a cinematically lit space with interior architecture inspired by the jewels and timepieces on show. The atmosphere is enhanced by a soundscape that blends ethereal salon sounds and lush electronic music, created by Japan’s Ai Yamamoto and Finland’s Erkki Veltheim. The effect? A showcase worth visiting for diamond, music and architecture enthusiasts alike.
ngv.vic.gov.au; sabinemarcelis.com; cloud-ism.com

Design excellence: Outstanding Cartier-related exhibition design doesn’t stop in Melbourne thanks to the recently opened Fondation Cartier in Paris, a benchmark cultural project in the French capital.