Our office
it is a hotel room we have personally designed to push The Foyer’s narrative and concept from the intangible to the tangible.
A room of our own where our clients and projects mingle with our permanent guest: creativity.
When I arrived it was winter and the interior of those windows seemed to be sprinkled with the vapor of a refined warmth. I looked up and, like a flame from the bottom to the top, I saw that the burning light was rising through all the windows that were exposed in the facade although each one with a certain decorum, insignia of a chosen privacy.
I rang a bell that seemed something more obscene, artistic or circus-like than a mere bell and I caught myself judging me for seeing all of that in such a common object. But to me it looked like two sagging breasts, or two tired balls, or two overflowing drops of water, or two upside-down balloons just before deflating. Whatever it was, I rang the doorbell with my whole hand and, at that moment, I still didn’t know how the place I was about to enter for the first, but not the last time, would change me. Without a doubt, that place chased away indifference.
Two women in their thirties opened the door, dressed in silk pyjamas, one green and one coral, both wearing hotel slippers. One had brown curls falling around her shoulders, which made her presence somehow tribal and somewhat bambola-like. Her eyes were peculiarly slanted and her aura had a chiaroscuro ingredient that hid in her gaze and serenaded her smile. The other one, with shorter hair seemed to be using every second to capture something about me. She shook my hand, firm, without hesitation. Then she stepped on my slipper with hers and turned the seriousness into a common laugh: the preamble to a shared party.
-Welcome to The Foyer. That’s all they said, without waiting for a response, without waiting for me to wait for them to say anything else. -What your head imagines as a boutique hotel in which every room keeps a narrative solution for you… Check-in and book a room.
Marta and Blanca
