The modernist.
A floating-flight stair in white oak and blackened steel — pure geometry, daylight on three sides.
Most of our work lives in the conversation between traditional and modern. This one doesn't. It picks a side, commits, and reads as architecture before it reads as joinery — exactly the brief.
The stair sits in front of a two-story window wall, and that's the whole argument. Black steel-framed glass on three sides, a blackened-steel central stringer running floor to ceiling, white oak treads cantilevering out into the daylight, and a horizontal-bar rail system that lets you see through the structure as you climb. The flight is the sculpture; the daylight does the rest.
Where every other stair in the portfolio carries a vertical rhythm — balusters at six-inch centers, repeating — this one runs horizontal. Slim blackened-steel rails span post to post in a stack of clean lines, parallel to the treads and parallel to the window mullions behind them. Stand at the bottom and look up: the whole stair reads as a grid against a grid.
The newel posts are honey-stained oak, square section, with a recessed-block top — the only soft element in an otherwise hard scheme. They anchor the rail system, keep the geometry from feeling industrial, and tie the stair back to the floors. Run a hand up one and you'll feel oak, not steel. That balance is the project.
The flight is the sculpture; the daylight does the rest.
The flight in context — black steel structure, horizontal rail, two-story window wall behind.
Mid-flight detail — horizontal rails parallel to the treads, daylight pouring through.
Tell us about the stair your house deserves.
The modernist.
A floating-flight stair in white oak and blackened steel — pure geometry, daylight on three sides.
Most of our work lives in the conversation between traditional and modern. This one doesn't. It picks a side, commits, and reads as architecture before it reads as joinery — exactly the brief.
The stair sits in front of a two-story window wall, and that's the whole argument. Black steel-framed glass on three sides, a blackened-steel central stringer running floor to ceiling, white oak treads cantilevering out into the daylight, and a horizontal-bar rail system that lets you see through the structure as you climb. The flight is the sculpture; the daylight does the rest.
Where every other stair in the portfolio carries a vertical rhythm — balusters at six-inch centers, repeating — this one runs horizontal. Slim blackened-steel rails span post to post in a stack of clean lines, parallel to the treads and parallel to the window mullions behind them. Stand at the bottom and look up: the whole stair reads as a grid against a grid.
The newel posts are honey-stained oak, square section, with a recessed-block top — the only soft element in an otherwise hard scheme. They anchor the rail system, keep the geometry from feeling industrial, and tie the stair back to the floors. Run a hand up one and you'll feel oak, not steel. That balance is the project.
The flight is the sculpture; the daylight does the rest.
The flight in context — black steel structure, horizontal rail, two-story window wall behind.
Mid-flight detail — horizontal rails parallel to the treads, daylight pouring through.