There is something enigmatic about MORQ. I discovered its project Ē purely by chance. Freefalling through design websites in a sensory overloaded sea of interiors brimming with colours and objects and stuff, I stopped at this shelter by the waters of the Ionian in Calabria, southern Italy. Its stonecast concreted walls bathed in cocciopesto (timber, stone and water) spoke of my own time in my mother’s birthplace. The pared back, time-washed interiors thrown open to the sunburnt scenery. The blurred line between inside and out. Nine small photos and a two-sentence description that whispered of something extraordinary in a landscape plagued by crumbling, forgotten farmhouses and grotesque mansions.
RE wasn’t then and
