Vienna, outskirts

Industrial Design

Steel, concrete, and the calm of reduction

Vienna, outskirts

Step into the stairwell and it all makes sense. The steel staircase, a one of a kind piece designed by Simon's brother, cuts through the house as a single black line. Beyond it: polished concrete floors, few walls, high ceilings. Julia and Simon gutted this corner building on the outskirts of Vienna and reimagined it entirely. What began as a 1930s residential home is now an open space that speaks only in black, white, and the raw texture of materials. The kitchen to keep in Nero stands within it as though it had always been part of the plan.

“We did not want a kitchen that looks like a kitchen. We wanted a piece of furniture that belongs in our home.”
Julia & Simon

The handleless fronts in powder coated steel close flush. No handle interrupts the surface, no detail calls attention to itself. The steel frame of the modules stays visible, a deliberate choice that carries the industrial character of the house into the kitchen. Nero is more than a color. It is an attitude. Matte, deep, quiet. The surfaces catch light without reflecting it. Together with the exposed concrete and the designer furniture, a material language emerges that runs through every room.

“Everything in this house is a decision. The kitchen was the most important one.”
Julia & Simon

What looks so reduced from the outside surprises when you open it. The drawers of the island extend fully, made possible by the stability of the steel frame. Inside: a cutlery organizer in black wood, precisely fitted. Every knife, every spoon has its place. Julia says she has never searched for anything less. In a compact footprint, a thoughtful system hides that makes daily life quieter. The cabinet absorbs what would otherwise sit scattered around. The wall module keeps everything within reach that gets used every day.

“My brother designed the staircase, we found the kitchen. Both made of steel. That was no coincidence.”
Simon

Two full calendars, few shared evenings. Julia manages teams, Simon develops campaigns. When they are both home at the same time, the kitchen is where the week comes to rest. Not the sofa, not the garden. The island. Since the kitchen to keep arrived, they cook together more often. Not because they planned to. But because the space invites them to.

In the evening, when the pendant lights cast a warm glow over the island, Julia and Simon sit on the black bar stools. A glass of wine, the cutting board not yet cleared away. Through the large corner windows, the last daylight fades. The kitchen is no longer a workspace then. It is the quietest point in the house. The place where two full lives become one shared evening.