Portsmouth started outside. The garden, the pool, the light — all of it came first, before a single decision was made indoors, and the brief became simple: bring it in. Sightlines open to the exterior from nearly every room, so the outside isn't a view. It's part of the architecture.

Indoors, the house goes deliberately dark. Masculine, moody, confident — a decision most people wouldn't make in a space this size, and the one that makes it memorable. The stone does the heavy lifting; its movement carries the depth, so the rooms hold up on the hundredth day as well as the first.