Dwell July/August 2024

I can’t write at home. At least, I can’t start a creative project there. Or at the office, really. I need a change of scenery, a switch of context, that vaunted third place with the right amount of distance from duties and distractions. Travel is the best way to find that sense of separation. A slightly buzzy hotel lobby, where I focus by tuning out ambient conversation, is my ideal destination. To some people, this sounds terrible, and they may set out for a contemplative cabin in the woods or an elemental shack on the beach. Wherever you prefer to venture, our annual travel issue celebrates stirring spaces, the places people go not just to find inspiration but to do something with it. For architect David Ross and his husband,…

Sophie Fabbri Photographer “Shock of Pink,” p. 92 After moving to New York City, Sophie Fabbri swapped landscape architecture for photography, and she now specializes in lifestyle, still life, and interiors imagery. “I aspire for my work to be colorful, romantic, not ethereal, but personal,” says Fabbri. This issue saw the photographer staying overnight at a tiny-home rental in the Catskills in order to document it. “Normally, when you go in a tiny house, everything’s so minimal because the owners want to make more space,” she says, but this home showcases a different approach with an abundance of color and texture. “It’s an experience. I’ve never stayed anywhere like that.” Justin Chung Photographer “Always in Motion,” p. 50 For Justin Chung, the opportunity to visit Sea Ranch, the 1960s-era coastal…

“A subtle, intelligent, and beautiful design reflective of the inhabitants’ sense of simple living. The way I would love to live.”@angelaballard3929 on YouTube Re: “Force of Nature: In tropical Singapore, a radically open home—without air-conditioning—connects a couple with plant life at every turn.” May/June What a complete 180 to most everything I consider as fundamental to designing a home. Doors, windows, and sunlight. And yet I love the result. A total meld between client and location. Simply impossible almost everywhere else, and for any other client. I would like to see how this concept ages over time. Does it endure, or does it feel more like an experiment? RICK LOWE ON DWELL.COM Beautiful, but curious what happens in the case of monsoon or typhoon? I’ve known people who live in…

I do prefer a nice hammock. Can be taken off and disappear if I don’t want to use it. @pascalfierz As long as my foot doesn’t go through the holes, I love a massive hammock vibe. @berit_graves_ Looks like a broken ankle. @tamara_jurson What’s wrong with a house becoming a playground if that’s how the homeowners want it? Not my vibe for my own home, but I would love to stay somewhere with this cool feature! @designsby.hlb Although maybe technically “safe,” design has to look secure. A dramatic touch is fine, but this suggests a highwire act. It’s a no for me. @michael crosspaintings Life is play. We should live that way. @kysondana My inner child is desperate for one. Kate Dries, executive editor They are a phase, like having…

1950s Through ’70s For Teachers Who Travel In 1953, two of the home-swapping industry’s leading networks, Intervac and HomeLink, were established in Europe and the United States, respectively. The former was organized by a group of European teachers looking for affordable travel setups during summer breaks and sabbaticals, while the latter was spearheaded by New York teacher David Ostroff, who typed up a list for a “Vacation Exchange Club” to be shared with other educators. Over the next two decades, the concept’s grasp expanded beyond teacher networks: Pan American World Airways, for example, tapped Ostroff in 1970 to coordinate home exchanges among the international air carrier’s corporate employees. (Below: Intervac members in the ’60s or ’70s.) 1980s Swapping by Snail Mail As home-swapping networks continued to gain momentum, their services…

It’s normal to end a trip with a suitcase a little heavier than it was when you left. But of all the discoveries you’ve acquired, the stuff you really want to take home, particularly after checking out of a chic boutique hotel, tends to be harder to transport: maybe those sleek, 1920s-inspired side tables or the thick velvet curtains with intricately braided trim or the handmade ceramics that feel like instant heirlooms. That’s why we talked with the designers responsible for the looks (and vibes) of seven of our favorite small hotels around the world about the childhood vacations, sunlight patterns, and city parks that inspired them to create spaces worth visiting. Plus, we recommend a few things that will bring the experience home. 1 Todos Santos Boutique Hotel TODOS…