Issues
‘Le Figaro’ at 200: Legacy and innovation in French journalism
In 1826 two free-spirited twenty-somethings, Maurice Alhoy and Étienne Arago, decided to start a weekly newspaper in a dingy building on Paris’s Boulevard Saint-Germain. They named it after the raffish hero of playwright Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais’s The Barber of Seville, Figaro – three syllables that roll off the tongue. In a crowded marketplace, however, the publication struggled to break through.
The tide turned in the 1850s when Le Figaro was taken over by Hippolyte de Villemessant, an editor with plenty of business nous and fresh ideas. It has been a mainstay of French life ever since and now has 450,000 subscribers, 320,000 of whom are digital readers. The rest receive the print edition six times a week. In total, five million people visit lefigaro.fr every day, making it France’s biggest news site.
Today the newspaper’s offices are in a Haussmannian building on Rue de Provence. Two golden Fs adorn the entrance; behind the revolving doors is a spacious hall. On the storeys above, 500 full-time journalists cover everything from politics to culture and lifestyle.

The editor in chief’s office, a modest space strewn with books, is on the third floor. Alexis Brézet, its occupant since 2012, is refreshingly unpretentious and speaks passionately about the publication. It has been a few months since Le Figaro’s three-day bicentennial celebrations at the Grand Palais, which were attended by 60,000 people. “This is an exceptional moment,” says Brézet. “There’s no other national newspaper in France that has 200 years of history.” Rival paper Le Monde, for example, was founded in 1944.
Brézet’s official title is directeur des rédactions (“head of newsrooms”) because he oversees content across multiple formats. Alongside the print edition are the website, the app and both weekly and monthly supplements (including Madame Figaro, Le Figaro Magazine and Le Figaro TV Magazine), as well as podcasts, in-person talks and a TV channel launched in 2023. “Everything’s moving more quickly,” says Brézet, who adds that the paper has changed more in the past 20 years than in any other period of its history. He has been blessed – or cursed, depending on how you look at it – to be here for this transformation.
Brézet joined the paper in 2000 as its deputy editor, then progressed to become the editor in chief of Le Figaro Magazine. For the past 14 years, he has steered the publication’s wider editorial operation. Brézet compares his role to that of a conductor: he relies on “many section leaders, like in an orchestra”. He chairs two meetings a day. At the first, his team schedules the day’s web stories and outlines the next print edition. During the second, the following day’s web coverage is planned and the newspaper’s front page is finalised.




Le Figaro has long had a reputation for being right-wing. Brézet prefers to be more precise: the paper is liberal (in the traditional sense, not the American one) and conservative. Both labels, he admits, are loaded in France. “We must reclaim them,” he says. “We say that being liberal doesn’t mean we’re awful and that being conservative doesn’t mean we’re fossils.” Instead, he explains, Le Figaro is liberal because it “supports business and believes in public debate”, and conservative because there are “a lot of things to protect in our model of society, our culture and our art of living”.
Ideas matter to Brézet. When he became Le Figaro’s editor in chief, he revamped the comment pages and created an online opinion offshoot, Figaro Vox. “We couldn’t just do op-eds from ambassadors or MPs,” he says. “We sought out intellectuals.” With contributions from the likes of Bernard-Henri Lévy, Eugénie Bastié and Thierry Breton, Le Figaro is now a driving force in French intellectual life. When Emmanuel Macron reads the paper, which he does most nights, he starts with the comment pages.
Next year, France will go to the polls to pick Macron’s successor. The establishment right – long the natural readership of Le Figaro – is at a crossroads. Some argue for a union with the far-right Rassemblement National (RN) to form a dominant conservative bloc. Others see this as a betrayal of everything that the centre-right is supposed to stand for. During the 2024 parliamentary elections, Brézet wrote an op-ed arguing that the RN’s policies are “in many respects concerning” but that La France Insoumise was far worse, with its “antisemitism, Islamo-leftism, class hatred, fiscal hysteria”. Some Le Figaro journalists published a letter voicing their opposition to Brézet’s piece and how it had represented “unprecedented support for the RN”. In the end, nothing came of it: Brézet issued no retraction. Instead, he sent a reminder to staff about his editorial philosophy.
As he sees it, there is a crucial distinction between political parties, which have voters, and newspapers, which have readers. “Our role is to bring together readers and enlighten them,” he says. “After that, they are grown men and women. They can do what they want.” Brézet’s conception of journalism is at odds with the increasingly popular idea that publications have a duty to be partisan. “Newspapers are not schoolmasters – we aren’t here to issue voting instructions,” says Brézet. “Our views vary from one writer to another. What matters is that as many readers as possible find themselves in that diversity.”
While most people read Le Figaro online, print still matters. According to Brézet, France’s economic and political leaders like to read Le Figaro in its paper edition. “Print is a bit like haute couture,” he says. “When Bernard Arnault [CEO of LVMH] or Emmanuel Macron have something to say, they won’t say it on Facebook or a website. They want to be in Le Figaro and on the cover.”
Such scoops generate advertising euros. Le Figaro is a rarity among French publications in that it makes money. (The paper is owned by the Dassault family, which also owns Dassault Aviation and Dassault Systèmes.)
Brézet’s goal now is to grow the subscriber base. Le Monde is ahead with about 600,000 subscribers, though it has fewer online visitors. Brézet doesn’t think of it as a competition. “There’s room for everyone,” he says. Ultimately, all newspapers are “fighting for fair remuneration for our content, which is being scraped by social networks, search engines and platforms”. And, of course, there is the threat of AI too. Le Figaro is working with software company Perplexity to create a search engine that draws on the paper’s 200-year archives. But Brézet is adamant that the publication won’t publish AI-generated content – whether text, images or illustrations – which would damage the trust of readers.
When Brézet writes articles, he does so by hand, using a fountain pen. Ink bottles dot his bookshelves. Does writing make him more credible as an editor in chief? “There’s that side of it – showing your teams that you still know how to do the job you’re asking them to do,” he says. “It’s a good thing, from time to time, to say that the boss has written something and it’s not too bad.” But, for Brézet, writing is more than just a leadership strategy. It’s a calling. “At some point, you have to write – you have to pull things out of yourself,” he says. “For me, that’s my life.”
Nine highlights from Salone del Mobile 2026 and the rest of Milan Design Week
The annual Milan Design Week is the industry’s most significant event and the Salone del Mobile trade fair – its main attraction – draws more than 300,000 attendees to the Lombard capital. In 2025 the fair and activities connected to it generated €278m.
This year, alongside displays of design excellence by automotive brands, fashion labels and cultural institutions, fresh products were launched and ideas for future designs presented in the city’s showrooms, galleries and houses. We report from the city and fair, and present the perspectives of curators, furniture CEOs, architects and designers on everything from the importance of the home to the power of industry.
Material Value
6:AM Glassworks
Milan
The homegrown design brand making a case for the versatility – and increasing relevance – of glass.
As people turn away from environmentally harmful materials such as plastic, there’s plenty of renewed interest in glass. This was clear at the Milan Design Week show from 6:AM Glassworks, held in the long-closed changing rooms of Piscina Romano swimming pool. “Glass was the only translucent material for interiors and lighting before plastic,” said Francesco Palù, who co-founded the brand with Edoardo Pandolfo in 2020. “People are looking for sustainable alternatives again.”
This year’s show – the studio’s second solo outing at Milan Design Week – featured its Murano-made pieces, including the new limited-edition Paysage and Lina lights, designed by Hannes Peer, and screen-printed additions to the Quadrato wall lights. Among the highlights were the Batch floor-to-ceiling blown-glass cubes, originally premiered at a Bottega Veneta runway show, and the clever recycling of cylindrical offcuts from a 6:AM Glassworks palo-santo burner into concrete panels. “Glass is already part of buildings,” said Palù. “Our goal is to bring a new language to it.”
6am.glass
Home Comforts
Casa Milana
Milan
Why a creative studio is showcasing its work in its founders’ home.
Husband-and-wife duo Mario Milana and Gabriella Campagna informally established creative studio Casa Milana when they lived in New York. The idea travelled with them when they moved to Milana’s home city, Milan, a few years ago. Today, Casa Milana is about transmitting ideas and values as much as furniture. The couple’s home – two knocked-through period apartments in the Brera neighbourhood – blurs the line between a residence and a design studio that shows Milana’s work.
“First, it’s our home,” Milana told Monocle when we visited. “It’s what we put out in the world. We try to push slow living and presence – and design is a medium for that.”
Dotted with Milana’s furniture and vintage pieces, the residence is impeccably appointed. It’s also a setting in which furniture is intended not only to be seen but to be touched and experienced. “Even when we lived in New York and only loosely called our home Casa Milana, we would invite people to sit on the furniture,” said Campagna.
We took a seat in front of Milana’s Void coffee-table system for Ranieri. Made with lava stone, it’s designed to change according to the user’s requirements – as is the Frequenza bookcase system, with its slidable, reconfigurable shelves. Elsewhere, a new collaboration with Beni Rugs gives additional warmth to the home.
Many pieces are reminders that our lives are constantly evolving and the contents of a well-designed home should accommodate this. Flexibility is a big part of our lives,” said Milana.
casamilana.it
Power of nostalgia
B&B Italia
Como
The executive chairman of the Italian design giant is confident that furniture’s emotional resonance will help the sector weather the geopolitical storm.

Though global tensions and war have been causing turbulence in the design sector, Piero Gandini, the executive chairman of Flos B&B Italia Group, remained hopeful. “The industry is flexible by nature, with many channels and ways to market,” he said. Gandini’s group generated €888m in gross merchandise value revenue in 2024. His confidence was reflected in B&B Italia’s decision to return to Salone del Mobile this year after decades away. Here, the brand relaunched Nena, a folding armchair designed by Richard Sapper in 1984.
The Nena’s return added a touch of nostalgia to the showcase – many will have fond memories of the chair in homes throughout the 1980s and 1990s. “The industry is sustained by the emotional value that people attach to design,” said Gandini. “That leaves us in a good position. We’re not in danger like steel companies, where there’s less of a desire.”
bebitalia.com
Meet the producers
Koyori
Tokyo
Munetoshi Koda’s furniture firm is seeking to increase international awareness of Japan’s manufacturing prowess through smart collaborations with international designers.
“We have 4,500 furniture makers in Japan but only four or five have a global profile,” said Munetoshi Koda. It’s something that he has been working to change since establishing Koyori in 2022. The brand brings together several leading Japanese manufacturers, producing furniture in collaboration with makers across the country. It focuses on regions and cities that are known for specialised woodworking skills.
Koda hopes to put Japan’s craftsmanship on the global stage by partnering factories with top furniture designers, including Paris-based Ronan Bouroullec, Copenhagen’s GamFratesi and Belgian architect Vincent Van Duysen, who launched his first collection with Koyori at Salone del Mobile this year. “Vincent’s design philosophy resonates with ours,” said Koda, adding that Van Duysen had long been on his list of potential collaborators. “There are similarities with a Japanese way of thinking.” The result was a collection called Hinode (Sunrise), with six pieces including a lounge chair, a stool and a coffee table in oak or walnut.
Koda gave Van Duysen a loose brief, asking him to conceive a chair as “a crucial product for wooden furniture makers”. The subtle curves called for top-level manufacturing, which Koda hopes will emphasise the skill of Japan’s makers.
koyori-jp.com
Beneath the surface
Gallotti & Radice
Brianza
By focusing on a single material, the northern Italian brand explored a diversity of cultural perspectives.

A good group showcase needs a clear organising principle. For Brianza-based brand Gallotti & Radice’s Milan Design Week presentation, Tales in Glass, held at the Palazzo Meli Lupi di Soragna, six female designers from across the globe worked in a common medium: glass. The result was a series of pieces reinterpreting the material through each designer’s cultural lens, from a low table by Los Angeles- and Uruguay-based Estudio Persona to British-Nigerian designer Miminat Shodeinde’s Elege console of stacked glass panes.
“Every material has its complexities, intricacies and joys,” said Shodeinde. “You can do so much with glass. I made a table of stacked bricks of coloured glass representing strength and tactility.”
All of the pieces were developed with Gallotti & Radice, which turns 70 this year. The brand’s back catalogue reveals a long history of working with glass, incorporating precious metals, hand lacquering or colouring. It’s proof that honing in on an idea is often key to perfecting it.
gallottiradice.it
Mixing and matching
Interni Venosta
Milan
How to confidently blend design of different eras and styles.

Britt Moran and Emiliano Salci, who co-founded Milanbased design powerhouse Dimorestudio in 2003, also launched homeware brand Interni Venosta in 2024. During Milan Design Week, Moran welcomed Monocle into an apartment in the fashionable Quadrilatero della Moda area, designed by Italian architect Osvaldo Borsani in the late 1940s. “It has never been open to the public,” he said. “The entire home is beautiful.” Here, he and Salci presented the latest Interni Venosta range. “It’s an intellectual collection,” he said.
The setting was clearly significant: Borsani’s ornamental room dividers, built-in seating and sculptural bas-relief fireplace were juxtaposed with the clean lines of Interni Venosta’s work: think burnished-brass and polished-steel vases, upholstered leather seating and lacquered and burl-wood surfaces. The presentation neither deferred to Borsani’s legacy nor competed with it. Rather, it offered a considered, sleek counterpoint to his warmth and craft – showing that mixing furniture and objects from different eras is about choosing works that confidently, quietly complement each other.
internivenosta.co
Perfect Balance
RedDuo
Milan
The design studio offering a still point in the bustle of Milan Design Week.
When it comes to designing furniture or curating a space, RedDuo’s Fabiola di Virgilio and Andrea Rosso usually meet in the middle. Rosso loves colour while Di Virgilio favours more neutral tones. Partners in both life and work, they balance each other’s tastes. For this year’s Milan Design Week, the studio – founded in 2020 – presented RedDuo Galleria, a showcase of their partnerships, including with Belgian rug maker JOV and lighting brand Leucos. “We pick partners that are close to our style,” Rosso told Monocle.
The show was held inside the Porta Genova apartment where the couple lived before they moved to Città Studi. The choice of location made for a refreshing change from the grandiose palazzi in which some other practices chose to showcase their work. Rosso described the space as “a little bit Palm Springs, a little bit Japan” – a mood that was complemented by everything from Bitossi ceramics to marble from Del Savio 1910. Midcentury pieces were borrowed from Demos Mobilia gallery.
Aiming to create an exhibition where people would want to linger, the duo decided to make the show accessible by appointment only. “You need to see the space when it’s almost empty,” says Di Virgilio. Some returned to the gallery for a second look, while a couple from South Korea was there for three hours. Visiting the show was a chance to gain a more intimate understanding of both the studio and the duo’s evolution along the way.
redduo.it
On Reflection
Deyan Sudjic
London
In collaboration with the Rosewood Hotel Group, the London-based curator explored the cultural and historical value of objects, through the work of Milan-based designer Andrea Branzi.

“It’s important for the next generation of designers to not always consume the next thing,” Deyan Sudjic told Monocle. “It’s important to reflect, think about what has been done before and realise that there is a history to things.” The curator and director emeritus of London’s Design Museum was in Milan for an exhibition that he developed with hotel brand Rosewood, celebrating the life and legacy of the late Milan-based designer Andrea Branzi, who was a pioneer of Italian radical design in the 20th century.
Branzi’s work championed the notion that design is about creating objects that carry meaning and both reflect and critique culture – an idea that’s still relevant today. “Branzi saw design as something that can ask questions,” said Sudjic. “He was suggesting that we can feel emotions through objects – the things that we measure our daily life with.” For emerging designers, it’s a rallying cry to put people at the heart of any design process.
rosewoodhotels.com
Realm of the Senses
Annabelle Schneider, USM & Snøhetta
New York
How artists and designers can use dramatic scenography to help us commune with the world around us.
How can we use design to disconnect from the digital world? That’s the challenge that New York-based Swiss artist Annabelle Schneider sought to address with her “Renaissance of the Real” installation during Milan Design Week. “This is about tactility and the imperfect, and the moment of surprise that you can’t capture in the digital,” she said. “It’s critiquing the feeling of how we use technology.”
Created in partnership with Swiss furniture firm USM and Norway- and US-based architecture studio Snøhetta, it featured the former’s rectilinear furniture as a framework around which bulbous textiles appeared to float, held aloft by fans that pushed air into the structure. The effect was womb-like, with shadows from the garden dancing across the textile and enhanced by the changing natural light. “You have the formality of USM and its grid-like, systematic approach to design, then you have this bubble that unexpectedly pushes against it,” said Snøhetta’s Anne-Rachel Schifmann. The contrast prompted visitors to put down their phones to make sense of the interior world that they had entered.
annabelleschneider.com; snohetta.com; usm.com
Nation Building
Visteria Foundation
Warsaw
How design can help to tell a country’s story on a global stage.

Poland took centre stage at Milan Design Week with two exhibitions from the Visteria Foundation, a cultural institution that promotes the country’s design and craft. Queues snaked around the Torre Velasca to see the two shows. One, in partnership with furniture brand ETEL, told the story of Polishborn designer Jorge Zalszupin, who emigrated to Brazil and became associated with the South American nation’s modernist movement. The other examined how modernism took shape in Poland and featured contemporary designers from the country, including Tomek Rygalik, responding to the movement’s ideals. “It was about trying to combat bigger societal issues,” said Rygalik. “For us, it took hold during the communist years so it became about preserving the values of delight and beauty, and envisaging a more hopeful future. That’s something that we’re still looking at today.”
The pieces on display underscored the importance of looking at the ways in which a nation’s shared experience is embodied in the work of its designers – and that of its prodigal children (such as Zalszupin). Dipping into this heritage can offer a guidebook for the future, building on past struggles and successes.
visteriafoundation.pl
Poland’s Poster Museum packs a punch. Here are 16 standout works to prove it
Experimental and bursting with allusion, Polish poster design has won fans across the world since the nation’s artists first started developing the medium in the mid-20th century. Among the most famous examples of the genre include city posters, with each major Polish city and town getting its own depiction in printed form. This was a favoured outlet for designers, including Ryszard Kaja in his “Poland” series.
Opened in 1968, Warsaw’s Poster Museum contains more than 50,000 pieces ranging from contemporary graphic design to art deco-era pieces, and has recently had a welcome revamp. There is also a strong showing from postwar Poland, when the medium came into its own as a way of bypassing Soviet censorship. The country’s lack of a free market in those years, as well as the loosening of restrictions following Joseph Stalin’s death in 1953, also meant, ironically, that artists were able to disengage from commercial pressures and create art for art’s sake. For ordinary citizens, it meant the streets – grey, void of any advertising and often still bearing the marks of the Second World War – were brightened with splashes of colour and creativity.
One name to know? Tadeusz Trepkowski, who revolutionised postwar poster art with his minimalist, symbolic approach. A self-taught artist born in Warsaw in 1914, Trepkowski received his first international recognition in 1937 when he was awarded the Grand Prix in the International Paris Exhibition. After the Second World War, his posters were often rejected for deviating from the socialist realism favoured by Soviet authorities. But before his sudden death in 1954, the artist designed a variety of posters for films, sports events and businesses, including Poland’s flag carrier LOT.
Here we have gathered some of our favourite examples from the Poster Museum’s collection.
















Chanel’s president of watches and fine jewellery, Frédéric Grangié, on the timely partnership with the Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race
The Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race has been a key fixture on the UK sporting calendar since 1829. The event, which takes place on the Thames every spring, is always a spectacle. Chanel J12 became the race’s first official timekeeping partner and its title sponsor last year, in a pairing that celebrates Gabrielle Chanel’s love of sport and the heritage of the ceramic J12 watch, which takes its name from the US racing-class yachts beloved by its designer, Jacques Helleu.
Monocle spoke to Chanel’s president of watches and fine jewellery, Frédéric Grangié, about his passion for the river, Chanel’s approach to time and his long-term plans for the brand’s watchmaking division.

This is the second year of Chanel J12’s long-term partnership with the Boat Race. It’s a great collaboration, especially because the J12 takes its name from racing yachts, so there’s the connection to the water. How did it begin?
I love the fact that it happened in such an organic way. We had never done sports sponsorship in the history of the brand and the Boat Race was looking for a new partner. We met at the right time and thought, “Let’s do this.” I really believe in this project. We were delighted to sign a strategic partnership with the Boat Race, with which we share the values of collective endeavour and the pursuit of excellence.
Tell us about the striking creative assets that you designed with Peter Saville to accompany the race.
I thought that we needed to do something special to amplify the project so I set a challenge for Peter: I told him that this is a partnership between two of the greatest institutions in the world. So he developed a first edition, which could be seen all over London from February 2026. If there’s one person who can create the most amazing, desirable posters in the world, it’s him. I said, “Peter, for the 100th anniversary of the women’s competition in 2027, I want the greatest poster that you have ever done. You need to outdo yourself.”
What does time mean to Chanel? It feels like something that’s not completely functional – there’s something poetic about it.
What’s interesting, in an industry where the great houses are a century or two centuries old, is that we launched our first watch [the Première] in 1987. Chanel Watches isn’t even 40 years old. It became a combination of different aspects of the house: leather from fashion, [high jewellery] at Place Vendôme and then also the stopper from the No5 fragrance. And, crucially, it had no indices at all. Our sense of time comes from the fact that Chanel is a family-owned business; we’re independent and have a very long-term view. Look at No5 – a bestselling fragrance for 105 years.
As a fashion brand, what challenges did you face when you entered the world of high horology?
When Jacques Helleu designed the Première watch, there was no capability to make it, so it was subcontracted. The most important decision was made [in the 1990s] to master all aspects of this business, just like any other category at Chanel. Therefore, we needed to find and buy a manufacturer [G&F Châtelain], and revamp it. Along the way we put together a group of partners that would grow with us organically. We serve a lot of brands. We are a supplier to many maisons and it’s an incredible source of pride for us because it means that things like the new [blue] ceramic watches, patented by Chanel, will be available for other houses. We have the best in the world – our clasps are the best in the market, for instance – and I’m very proud of that. We know fashion, we know fragrance and now we know watches.
What’s the relevance of high horology and mechanical watches in this digital world?
It’s about knowing that artisans have spent hundreds of hours on the mechanism. It’s tangible. I see more and more young people moving towards mechanical watches. Some people asked many years ago if the connected watch was going to be a threat. The real threat is that you think you are going to be Apple. Apple is the best at what it does. But people want to be closer to something made by hand. We see the same approach in other fields at Chanel.
You have spent time living and working in New York and Japan. How did those experiences shape your perceptions and your approach to luxury?
Living in New York for 10 years taught me about retail: what good visual merchandising is, marketing. Maybe it’s Chanel, maybe it’s Whole Foods but good retail is good retail. When I moved to Japan, I had to unlearn a lot. I realised the importance of details, of excellence. Japan prepared me for Chanel because there’s that sense of the past that you must respect. It’s a family-owned company and what you are doing here will matter in the future.
Dries Van Noten finds a new chapter in Venice, where fashion design and art come together
Every year, millions of people come to Venice to admire its crumbling palazzos, with their spiral staircases, Moorish arches and intricate mosaics. Though acknowledged as treasures, their upkeep is often too much for the city to handle. For a certain class of creatives and entrepreneurs, however, they offer an appealing challenge. Sculptor Anish Kapoor and investor Nicolas Berggruen, for example, have marked new stages in their lives with revamps of Venetian palaces. It’s a club that retired fashion designer Dries Van Noten has joined with the opening of his own foundation in Palazzo Pisani Moretta, a 15th-century residence with mullioned windows and frescoes.

Best known for his eponymous fashion brand, Van Noten was on an extended holiday in Venice when he was invited to the palazzo. “The moment that we entered, everything changed,” he says, recalling the gothic windows, Murano-glass chandeliers and rococo furnishings. “The history, the craftsmanship, the way that every detail had been considered – it felt as though the building itself suggested the direction that we should take.”
The designer already had plans to set up a foundation with his partner, Patrick Vangheluwe. The couple initially envisaged basing it in a neutral, contemporary space. But their encounter with the palazzo and its owners, the Sammartinis, led to a change of direction. Having used the building as a family home for decades, the owners were keen to pass it on to someone who would open it up to the public as a cultural institution, rather than turning it into another hotel. This made Van Noten and Vangheluwe its ideal new custodians. “Venice became meaningful to us almost by chance,” says Van Noten.
The Fondazione Dries Van Noten’s inaugural presentation, which opened in April and runs until October, showcases more than 200 pieces from the worlds of fashion, design and art. The curation also demonstrates the timeless qualities of the palazzo that charmed Van Noten and those who came before him. “The Fondazione allows me to explore ideas on a scale and with a freedom that the rhythm of fashion never fully permitted,” says Van Noten. “It’s a space where different disciplines meet, influence and resonate with each other, without the pressures of seasons or markets.”
fondazionedriesvannoten.org
The AI art adviser in your pocket: How Artsignal is supporting art collectors and auction houses
Eighteenth-century landscape paintings aren’t currently in vogue in the art world. Nonetheless, enticed by their beauty and investment potential, some have been building collections of these pieces. Sam Glatman, the co-founder of Artsignal, has an eye for such under-appreciated works.
Artsignal is an AI-assisted research tool, built to support the work of professionals in the sector by generating reports on any work. “At a minimum, we require an image and the name of the artist,” Glatman tells Monocle over coffee in London. All available information (such as the size of the work or its date) is then combined with relevant material sourced online – the kind that you might find using a tool such as ChatGPT – and from a database that includes details about auction sales, exhibitions and more.

The result is a summary that can help auction houses, for example, to decide how much to lend against an artwork or to assess an object’s potential investment trajectory. According to Glatman, Artsignal’s specific method of using the image as a starting point and employing the latest technology to amass extra data makes his service the first in the art world that “really looks at an work in its entirety and makes a judgement on what makes it an interesting or a harder proposition for a potential buyer”.
This has made Artsignal popular among auction houses, galleries and art lenders – and has garnered investment from Christie’s Ventures, part of the revered auctioneer. Though the business currently works with only a few individuals with large collections, Glatman hopes to widen its reach to less established collectors. “If you’re a young person getting into collecting, you might not be able to afford an art adviser,” he says. “But you should still be able to make informed decisions.”
The entry of AI into the art business is understandably a concern for many but Glatman envisages Artsignal as working alongside experts in the sector, rather than against them. “We want to be a tool that art advisers use to give a better service and grow their businesses,” he says. “We would like to be a friend of these market players, not their replacement.”
artsignal.co
Comment
Used smartly, AI doesn’t have to be an enemy to human know-how. Artsignal is proof that using technology to interpret large data sets can support, rather than replace advisers. After all, art can’t be judged by a robot. Leave that to the professionals.
Rooms with a pulse: Bus Palladium, Paris’s historic night club-turned-boutique stay
Proposals for new work are constantly landing on the desk of architecture duo Studio KO. Not all of them lead to commissions but when they were approached to turn Bus Palladium – a storied concert hall in Pigalle – into a six-storey hotel, they jumped at the chance. “A construction project in Paris is something that you can’t turn down,” says Studio KO co-founder Karl Fournier, as he gives Monocle a sneak peek before the opening in April. “We have only done interiors, not architecture, in the city so far, because there are so few gaps left to fill.”
This rare opportunity in the dense French capital also gave Fournier and his partner Olivier Marty a chance to save a Parisian icon. “We like working on institutions: places with a strong sense of place,” says Fournier, citing Marrakech’s Musée Yves Saint Laurent and London’s Chiltern Firehouse, which helped to establish the firm’s reputation. Le Bus, as the venue has been known by Parisians since its 1960s heyday, would be unthinkable without music, so it was clear from the outset that the stage had to remain. The original layout was kept and moved underground, making room for a ground-floor restaurant and 35 guest rooms upstairs. Acoustic isolation was crucial but rather than treating it as a way to separate spaces, the duo made music an integral theme: in the bedrooms, where OJAS sound systems let guests tune in to live performances in the club below; in the restaurant’s big record library; and on the concrete façade, which features Le Bus’s beloved vertical neon sign.
The project stays true to the spirit not only of the former concert hall but also of the area. “We’re not somewhere chic where the codes of palace hotels would have fitted,” says Marty. “Pigalle is Paris’s nightlife district so we wanted to create a joyful place that doesn’t take itself too seriously.” This is reflected in the eclectic carpets: chewing-gum pink in the bedrooms and with kaleidoscopic motifs in the common areas, in homage to Salvador Dalí, who once reportedly frequented Le Bus with a panther on a leash. The space age was also an inspiration, hence neon light tubes, mustard-yellow curtains and other retro-futuristic touches. Special mention goes to the brown corduroy staff uniforms by Husbands Paris.
buspalladium.com
Five of this summer’s best retail and hospitality concepts, from the UK to Italy and beyond
Café Jikoni
London
Tucked within a concrete pleat of O’Donnell + Tuomey’s skirt-like V&E East building is a new restaurant with a recipe for improving museum cafés. Ravinder Bhogal and Nadeem Lalani Nanjuwany’s Café Jikoni borrows much from the invention and charm of its Marylebone original on Blandford Street, reimagined as an airy café with all-day appeal. Think baharat lamb sausage rolls, gooey cheese toasties with Goan pickle or made-to-order rigatoni with lentils and anchovies. It all fizzes with flavour and arrives flecked with unexpected scents or spices. This is culinary alchemy of the highest order.
“What has been interesting for us is how you bring true hospitality to a public institution and make it feel fresh,” says chef Bhogal. “That’s something that I am really proud of. Everything, from our bread and pickles to dessert, is made in-house from scratch.” So, how do you scale a beautiful, bijou restaurant to the appetites of museum visitors? And what if people don’t already know Jikoni? “We might not explain anything about ourselves if the person is coming in just to experience the museum,” says Nanjuwany. “They might just want a nice coffee.”
jikonilondon.com
ABC Zattere
Venice
This restaurant belongs to Scuola Piccola Zattere, a non-profit with a focus on contemporary arts. Based in Dorsoduro, it has a colourful graphic identity created by Milan’s Giga Design Studio that extends to the kitchen, designed by Milan- and Rotterdam-based Fosbury Architecture.
The food is overseen by chef and designer Nathan Cal Danby, while Fabio Cavallari and Bruno Pappalardo are in charge of the kitchen. Standout dishes include pancetta with goat’s cheese, sweet prunes and herb salsa verde and Treviso radicchio with fermented lemon cream, harissa and dark chocolate.
abczattere.com
The Lamb
Mexico City
Could you be tempted to choose British food in Mexico City? You might just be persuaded to do so at The Lamb, a new Roma Norte restaurant and the third project from Mexican restaurateur Federico Patiño and his Somerset-raised partner, Poppy Powell. The menu looks to the UK’s countryside: think Scotch eggs, Welsh rarebit, mackerel pâté and a rabbit pie. “I find British food romantic, raw and timeless,” says Patiño, whose proposition reads as a tribute to Powell and a cuisine with more depth than its fish-and-chips clichés might suggest. “In Mexico City, demand continues to rise yet the culinary offerings often feel repetitive.” The Lamb’s job, therefore, is to widen the city’s palate.
Tabasco 156, Roma Norte

The Florentin
Frankfurt
When Villa Kennedy closed in 2022, it sent a ripple through Frankfurt’s hotel scene. Now the 147-key property has returned as The Florentin. Guests pass through a scented lobby and a palm-lined passage to the courtyard at the heart of the property. “We applied the sense of tactility and calm that you would expect from a resort to a city hotel,” says designer Alicia Worthington of Singapore-based Unscripted.
At the bar, Maxim Kilian has craft-cocktail pedigree, while in The Dune, chef Niclas Nussbaumer adds Asian accents to French styles.
theflorentin.com
Haraiso
Zürich
Japanese concept shop Haraiso has returned to Zürich, this time in the heart of Wiedikon. The name comes from a Japanese twist on Portuguese word paraíso, meaning “paradise”.
Haraiso retains the charm that made its former Seefeld location a favourite with design aficionados. Shelves are lined with bamboo matcha whisks and heirloom-worthy kitchen pieces. A lower-level workshop space goes beyond retail, with a rotating programme focusing on Japanese craft skills, such as the art of repairing ceramics with lacquer and gold.
haraiso.ch
Inside Lézard Graphique, the French workshop keeping printing traditions alive
Enter the screen-printing workshop of Lézard Graphique in the town of Brumath, just outside Strasbourg, and you’re greeted by a big picture of a lizard. It’s one of the firm’s cartes de voeux – postcards that it creates at the end of every year to thank its friends and collaborators. “They are collector’s items that we have become famous for,” says Lézard Graphique’s owner, Frédéric Rose. “I recently came across some old ones from the 1990s in an antiques shop. They were worth a fortune.”
Rose, who trained in fine art, is something of a polymath. He also owns companies in exhibition engineering and artificial-intelligence imaging. In 2017 he bought Lézard Graphique from printer Jean-Yves Grandidier, who founded it in 1979. “I wanted to sanctify the studio and protect its savoir-faire,” he says.

The workshop’s name is a play on the words les arts (the arts) and lézard (lizard). The space specialises in screen printing, a technique that involves transferring ink through a mesh onto a surface, one colour at a time. Today the machines at the Brumath shop are semi-automatic for consistency but every sheet is still individually inspected by a human eye. “That’s the soul of the place,” says business manager Zakarya Després, one of the 11 employees who work here. “The machine doesn’t get tired but someone needs to be there to get the details right. That’s what makes us a workshop, not a factory.”
Lézard Graphique’s client list includes artists and cultural institutions (such as Fondation Cartier and Les Rencontres de la Photographie festival in Arles), as well as design studios in Switzerland, Saudi Arabia and beyond. This variety places the workshop right at the intersection between art and commerce. “We’re the only ones able to make these large-format posters at this level of quality,” says Després as he points to a blue poster rolling out of the machine. The print is for Zusammen, a circus show at the Comédie de Colmar theatre, and its pink text and decorative details were inspired by the centaurs of Greek mythology. “These posters last a really long time, which is essential for this sort of promotional tool,” says Després. “They also possess a unique vibrancy. Anyone who knows about screen printing can recognise our work from a mile away.”

It’s no coincidence that Lézard Graphique was founded near Strasbourg. Florian Siffer, the curator of the local Cabinet des Estampes et des Dessins museum, which focuses on prints and illustrations, describes the city’s role in the history of the medium as an evolving story. Johannes Gutenberg, the inventor of the printing press, lived in Strasbourg in the middle of the 15th century and his presence led to the development of the first printing workshops here and, ultimately, a flourishing ecosystem around them. “Soon you had not just printers but illustrators, wood engravers and scholars, all working within the walls of the city,” says Siffer. “You could describe it as a Silicon Valley of print.”
Strasbourg’s competitive environment created breakthroughs as printers refined the technology. From the use of woodcut images integrated into movable type to early colour printing, every new development was pragmatic. “These workers weren’t artists locked in an ivory tower but entrepreneurs with a desire to streamline production processes,” says Siffer. Printers such as Johann Grüninger, who had a workshop here in the 16th century, pioneered modular composite-woodblock illustration. His system allowed different boxes of text and images to be added and fitted together in a way that resembles modern publishing-software layouts. “Grüninger broke down images into reusable elements,” says Siffer. “Human figures, cityscapes and flora could be recombined as needed. It was clever, efficient and ahead of its time.”
Such innovations continued into the 19th century, when lithography made its way into Alsace via its border with Germany. Though the process originated in Munich, Alsatian artists such as Benjamin Zix were quick to experiment with it. “Zix visited the studio of Alois Senefelder, the inventor of lithography, and brought the method back here,” says Siffer. “Strasbourg had presses running colour lithographs before most of France.”


Today institutions such as the Cabinet des Estampes et Dessins tell the remarkable story of this industry and the artists who paved the way. Lézard Graphique does the same. When Michel Quarez, one of France’s most revered poster designers, died in 2021, his godson approached it to reprint some of his work – including an iconic print from 1996 depicting a rooster, its blue feathers and yellow breast contrasting with a bold, pink background. “The screen printer that Quarez used had closed down and we had no original files, so we reverse-engineered it from an existing physical copy: just ink, layers and intuition,” says Després. The result was a new print that honoured Quarez’s style. Made for a Bastille Day party, it’s one of Després’s favourites. “It was really fine work,” he says, pointing to the rooster’s delicate crest. “The balance of art, typography and hand-drawn expression is very French.”
Though Lézard Graphique’s output feels distinctly old-school, experimentation is central. From mirror-like effects created using thermochromic ink to smooth colour gradings achieved by mixing different hues on one screen, there’s a sense that anything can be accomplished within the workshop’s walls. “There are still things that are possible only through screen printing and that’s what makes the process interesting,” says Després. For Rose, this dedication to the medium is a key part of the workshop’s philosophy. “I see what automation can do but it will never replicate the feel of a pigment mixed by hand or a 30-colour print run on thick paper,” he says. “The more that technology accelerates, the more we need places like Lézard to remind us of what can’t be faked.”

Despite Lézard Graphique’s reputation, the past few years have been challenging. “The coronavirus pandemic hit us like everyone else, especially those of us working with theatres, museums and cultural spaces,” says Rose. As the market for screen-printed posters in France has shrunk, Switzerland has become the company’s quiet champion. “There’s a culture of poster art there that’s thriving,” says Rose. “They see a poster not as temporary media but as an art form.” To adapt, Rose is launching Lézard Graphique’s own publishing line, producing limited-edition prints and licensed art collaborations. “We are moving into the gallery space,” he says. “If we can’t exist in the public arena as much as we did before, we’ll become a maker of things that are more like objects of art than tools of promotion.” Rose is also eager to pass on the knowledge of screen-printing to younger generations and the studio welcomes art-school students and apprentices who learn skills on the job.
Despite the pressures, Lézard Graphique remains a stubborn bastion of screen printing, in part thanks to the network of artists surrounding it who value the organisation’s familial approach as much as its expertise. Here, graphic designers work shoulder to shoulder with printers, getting ink on their hands. “It’s something that hardly happens elsewhere today,” says Rose. “At most print shops, you send files by email and hope for the best. Here, you’re part of the process. You see the prints drying. And you get a glimpse of what’s happening in the cultural world.”
For Rose, keeping Lézard Graphique alive means defending not only a way of making but a creative outlook too. “The manual process protects you. AI might be able to replace certain steps in design but it can’t pull a print or feel the paper. The more abstract that the world becomes, the more we’ll need the physical elements of creativity to keep us grounded.”
lezard-graphique.com
Making contact: The lithographic process

Bright ideas
Inspiration can be found in the workshop’s reference library, where a wide range of books, prints and visual materials provide ideas, context and creative starting points.

Pick and mix
Towers of paint pots display intensely vibrant colours, carefully selected and mixed, giving Lézard Graphique’s prints their distinctive depth, richness and recognisable visual identity.

Forming an image
Ink is poured onto the screen and pulled across with a squeegee, forcing it through the stencil to transfer the design to the paper below.

Out to dry
A mesh screen is coated with a light-sensitive emulsion, creating a smooth surface that will later harden under light – except where the design blocks it.

Up for review
The finished print undergoes final drying and inspection to ensure consistent quality, with flawed prints discarded to maintain the high standards of professional screen printing.

Special delivery
Every print is signed, stamped and prepared for delivery, ensuring that authenticity, quality and presentation standards are met before the work is packaged and shipped to clients.
Does size matter? These compact Tokyo fashion boutiques don’t think so
Hereness
Kichijoji
From the trails of Mount Takao to the running loop around Komazawa Park, the sports apparel of Tokyo-based label Hereness has been a staple since 2020. The brand emerged when B Corp-certified company Artico decided to shift its focus from print media to products, building on two decades of experience working in the sports and outdoor-lifestyle sectors. “Our aim has always been to convey the fun of sports,” says marketing director Hayato Kamiya (pictured, right). “Our pinkish-orange logo is designed to feel like a burst of sunshine.”
Following the success of its first Tokyo shop in Bakuro-Yokoyama, the brand has now ventured west to Kichijoji for its latest retail opening. “Many of our customers are trail runners and hikers who live in Tachikawa and Takao or the mountains further west,” says Kamiya. “There’s a gentle pace to Kichijoji.” The shop’s bright interior is filled with the brand’s signature merino-wool T-shirts. “We place a high priority on comfort, the way that a garment feels on the skin,” adds Kamiya.
hereness.jp
Despite the brand’s editorial roots, Hereness doesn’t get caught up trying to tell the story behind each and every detail. Its Kichijoji shop has a simple, clean interior that lets products speak for themselves. For more curious customers, staff from its small team of sports enthusiasts are on hand to give direct insights.
Graphpaper Conservatory
Tomigaya
Graphpaper’s ambitions have always been daring. The brand opened its first Tokyo outpost in the Jingumae backstreets and, more recently, brought fashion, noodles and saké to an unexpected corner of Sangubashi. On the other side of Yoyogi Park from this outpost, Graphpaper Conservatory brings the brand’s staples to a street where you’ll also find barbers, bike shops and cafés. Taking cues from the shop’s previous tenant, a flower shop by Edenworks, Graphpaper Conservatory presents botanical-dyed pieces.
“I sensed that pairing clothing with plants would be interesting,” says Takayuki Minami, Graphpaper’s founder. “I also wanted to create a place that would explore ideas around the environment and craftsmanship.” In the space of barely 25 sq m, Graphpaper pieces, which include a new line of cotton and denim basics, fill racks that stretch along the length of the interior. Meanwhile, silhouettes from the main collection have been reproduced in natural materials and dyed using by-products from Edenworks’ flower business. Every item bears a label that highlights the manufacturers involved in its production.
graphpaper-tokyo.com
Even by the high standards of Tokyo’s retail scene, Graphpaper continues to make its mark with destination shops. Its outposts share a common language, while bringing something fresh to their neighbourhoods. Conservatory is no different, proving that small spaces provide fertile ground for experimentation.
