The interiors are otherwise taut and restrained, allowing the landscape to dominate. Polished plaster walls shimmer with shifting light; the kitchen gleams in brushed stainless steel; bathrooms are lined in veined marble and handmade ceramic tiles. A palette of charcoal, black and raw timber is lifted by vintage finds sourced across Europe. ‘Initially, the main hall looked like a railway station,’ Thierry says. ‘Henri gave it depth and intimacy without losing the drama.’
Local craftsmanship played a vital role in achieving this. Much of the furniture and joinery was made in Costa Rica, using native woods chosen for their durability. Outdoor-grade fabrics were used indoors to withstand bleaching sun and humid nights. Hand-thrown pots from Guaitil, a town celebrated for its ceramics, serve as a counterpoint to the vintage pottery Henri hauled over from Europe in trunks on various visits. One of her proudest contributions is a monumental carved-wood mural, part art and part architecture, which spans one wall and was made locally to her design. ‘Paintings wouldn’t last in this climate,’ she says. ‘I wanted something sculptural, Brutalist, permanent.’
Texture plays an essential role: the silky sheen of plaster against rough stone; the grain of timber beside polished steel; raffia and linen alongside glass and concrete. Art is deliberately sculptural rather than pictorial, chosen for permanence as much as beauty. The result is glamorous without ostentation, soulful rather than sterile.
Anders Schønnemann
The floors look like concrete but are actually porcelain tiles, their expanses softened by rugs that carve out islands of comfort: a sofa grouping here, a reading corner there. The large indoor dining table doubles as a workspace, but the real drama lies outside. On the terrace, a long table has become the heart of the house, where lunches stretch into the afternoon and dinners spill late into the night.
During our visit, Thierry invited us to join a party with local friends – an international set that included New York fashion stylists and Paris-based designers who had, like him, been seduced by Santa Teresa’s mix of surf, sunsets and freedom. As night fell and candles flickered along the table, music drifted from the sitting room and the jungle seemed to join in: cicadas humming, frogs clicking, the occasional roar of a howler monkey. Guests moved easily between indoors and out, while the infinity pool reflected the deep pink sunset.
The curves of Pierre Augustin Rose sofas from The Invisible Collection, upholstered in Rubelli’s ‘Hugo’ bouclé, are echoed by travertine and glass coffee tables, designed by Henri, on a Marc Phillips rug.
Anders Schønnemann
That blurring of boundaries is central to the experience of a contemporary house like this. By day, the pool appears to pour into the jungle; at dusk, the Pacific catches fire; at dawn, mists roll across the reserve. The house transforms hour by hour, never quite the same place twice.
Henri Fitzwilliam-Lay: henrifitzwilliamlay.com