Above the ground floor, the first thing you notice is not a room but a route: a long view pulled through open space, timber underfoot, and a structural rhythm overhead. The loft is organized around floor trusses and a visible timber frame, so the eye keeps moving between the old shell and the new volumes placed inside it. White plaster surfaces hold the light, while brick and wood remain in view where the structure asks for them.

A double-height void that keeps the plan open

The original warehouse frame sets the scale. Three large bays, central oak columns, and timber beams with pine boards create a deep, narrow field that is read almost at once as a loft with double-height void. Rather than filling that volume with enclosed rooms, the plan leaves much of it open. Circulation runs horizontally and vertically through the interior, so the space is crossed as much as it is occupied.

That decision shapes the whole layout. Bathrooms, bedrooms, and laundry functions are reduced to compact inserts, leaving the open-plan circulation free to connect the floors. The result is a minimalist loft interior in which movement is visible. A stair turns off a cube, a platform cuts through the floor, and the line of travel stays clear even when the program becomes denser.

Three cube-like room volumes inside the shell

The clearest interruption in the open volume comes from three cube-like room volumes. They do not imitate the warehouse; they sit inside it as precise white forms. The first cube hovers just above the ground floor and contains two bathrooms. Sandblasted glass becomes the only barrier between shower and living area, so light passes through where a conventional wall would close the room off.

The second cube sits midway up and carries the kitchen while enclosing a bedroom. It reads as a block suspended inside the structural frame, with plaster surfaces that pull attention away from ornament and toward proportion. The third cube hangs from the tiled roof and holds another bedroom for the boys. Because each volume is set at a different height, the loft never feels flattened into one single level.

These inserts do more than organize functions. They also clarify the architecture around them. At one moment the cubes wrap around the timber structure, at another they let the old beams and columns remain fully visible. That shift between enclosure and exposure gives the interior its tension: new rooms are present, but they never erase the warehouse that supports them.

Timber structure left in sight

Floor trusses, beams, and columns remain legible throughout the project. Oak posts stand in the center line, while the floor structure is expressed through timber members and pine boards. The exposed timber trusses do not sit as decoration; they carry the memory of the building and shape the proportions of the rooms beneath them. In the visual field, the dark timber reads against white plaster and pale glass.

That contrast is most apparent where the loft opens upward. The high ceiling exposes the roof structure across multiple levels, and the rhythm of the trusses becomes part of the room sequence. A narrow strip of glazing pulls daylight across the interior, catching the edges of beams and making the structure easier to read from one end of the loft to the other.

Stairs, platforms, and the route upward

Circulation is never hidden. One cube projects oak boards from the wall like a stair. Another breaks through the floor and becomes the platform for a stair leading to the roof terrace. These moves give the interior a practical logic, but they also keep the route visible as a spatial event. The eye follows the steps, the landing, and the opening around the void.

At the edge of the plan, a long bench runs beneath the window. In its center sits an open fireplace without side walls, so the flames are contained only by the depth of the opening and the line of the sill. That detail draws the room back to its structural frame: a straight ledge, a clear opening, and fire held in plain view rather than tucked behind trim or casing.

White plaster, frosted glass, and old timber

The material palette stays restrained, but it works by friction rather than softness. White plaster volumes stand against the aged timber structure, and frosted glass partitions interrupt the space without stopping light. The first cube uses sandblasted glass as a boundary, making the bathroom feel connected to the living level while still keeping the necessary separation. Across the loft, the same language keeps repeating in different forms.

That repetition matters because the building itself is already busy with texture. Brick walls appear at the perimeter, timber beams cross overhead, and the floor is made from visible boards. Against that background, the cube-like room volumes read clearly. They settle into the shell without mimicking it, and the contrast between smooth plaster and exposed structure keeps the interior from becoming visually overloaded.

Rooms arranged around living, sleeping, and view

The ground floor is mainly used for play and sleeping, while the second level brings the kitchen area and a living room to the front. A long, narrow band of windows opens the room toward the view beyond, and the interior stretches toward that light rather than closing in on itself. In a project built around floor trusses and open-plan circulation, that line of glazing becomes one of the strongest organizing devices in the loft.

Materials and light do most of the work here. Wood carries the structure, white plaster reflects daylight, and the glazing cuts a horizontal seam through the space. From one side of the loft to the other, the house reads as a sequence of inserted volumes, open gaps, and visible structural parts. The architecture keeps returning to the same idea: leave space open, then place only what the plan requires.