Heritage as a Minority Sport in Luxembourg

If heritage protection were a sport in Luxembourg, it would be curling. Niche. Mysterious. Played in silence. And usually witnessed by no one.

In 2020, during the European Heritage Days, a protest was held in the capital to draw attention to the slow-motion massacre of architectural heritage across the country. Eighteen associations joined forces. The press turned up. There were signs, slogans, and even hope.

Fifty people came.

Fifty.

In a country of over 600,000. That’s less than the turnout at a poorly advertised cheese festival. And yet, there they stood, civil society groups, preservationists, historians, and a few mildly annoyed homeowners who discovered too late that their façade was about to be “updated.” They held signs like “Rett eise Patrimoine” and “Embauen, net ofrappen” which roughly translate to: “Please stop bulldozing the past, thank you very much.”

It was heartfelt. It was civil. And, as with most things heritage-related in Luxembourg, it was mostly ignored.

Because let’s be honest: preserving buildings is not a popular pastime here. It doesn’t win votes. It doesn’t generate headlines. It’s not shiny. It doesn't photograph well on social media, unless you’re selling it with artisanal sourdough and a linen apron.

The dominant logic is brutal in its simplicity:

• Old buildings are inefficient.

• Poor people live in them.

• They’re best replaced with something that matches the budget forecast and the kitchen showroom catalogue.

The result is a curious urban landscape where the less a building is valued, the more likely it is to house the people society values the least. You see it again and again, in Esch, in Ettelbruck, in villages across the country. Beautiful old houses, assigned to decay or to “social use,” because somewhere along the line, it was decided that heritage is not good enough for the rich.

Which brings us back to the protest. The Lëtzebuerger Denkmalschutz Federatioun, newly founded at the time, pointed out what everyone sort of knew already: the protection system doesn’t really work. The national and communal levels don’t coordinate. The inventories gather dust. The will, politically, socially, culturally, is simply not there.

And yet.

People still protest. People still care. Not many, but enough to keep showing up with their hand-painted signs and their encyclopedic knowledge of sandstone cornices. They come because they know something important: when you lose a historic building, you don’t just lose bricks and plaster. You lose context. You lose identity. You lose a piece of the story that tells you where you are.

And when you lose enough of those stories, you start to forget what the place even meant in the first place.

[Read the full post on heritage protection here →]

written by Helen M. Krauss

Question everything!

“To create, one must first question everything.”

— Eileen Gray

Eileen Gray (1878-1976), a trailblazer in modern design and architecture, understood that creativity begins with curiosity. Her philosophy - “To create, one must first question everything” - speaks to the heart of innovation. For Gray, true design was never about accepting the status quo but about challenging assumptions and exploring new possibilities.

Take her iconic E-1027 table, for example. This seemingly simple piece wasn’t designed for the sake of aesthetics alone. It was crafted to adapt, its adjustable height allowed it to meet the needs of the moment, whether serving as a functional bedside table or a sophisticated accent in a living room. Gray’s work questioned the rigidity of traditional furniture design, pushing boundaries to create pieces that were as dynamic as the lives they were meant to enhance.

Her words remind us that great design doesn’t start with answers, it starts with questions. Why do we use this material? Why does this object function this way? Why not try something new? By questioning the “rules,” we open the door to innovation, discovering not only what design can be but what it should be.

Gray’s legacy is a call to action for all creatives: dare to ask, dare to doubt, and dare to redefine the world through design.

written by Helen M. Krauss

Design is How It Works - Steve Jobs

“Design isn’t how it looks. It’s how it works.”

— Steve Jobs

Steve Jobs, a visionary who redefined technology, had a profound understanding of design’s true essence. For Jobs, design wasn’t about aesthetics alone, it was about function. The beauty of a product wasn’t just in its sleek lines or polished finish but in how it seamlessly integrated into daily life.

Take the iPhone as an example. At first glance, its minimalist design is striking, but its true brilliance lies in its intuitive interface. From the swipe of a finger to the effortless transition between apps, every detail was crafted to enhance the user’s experience. Jobs believed that great design is invisible, it doesn’t shout for attention but works quietly and flawlessly in the background, making life easier without the user even realizing it.

This philosophy challenges us to look beyond the surface. Whether designing a space, a product, or even a process, the question isn’t just “How does it look?” but “How does it function?” Great design solves problems, simplifies complexity, and ultimately improves lives.

Jobs’ legacy reminds us that design isn’t just about appearances, it’s about creating things that work beautifully. And in that harmony of form and function, design becomes truly timeless.

written by Helen M. Krauss

The Origin of the Chesterfield Sofa

When we think of the Chesterfield sofa, it’s easy to dismiss it as just another piece of classic furniture - timeless, yes, but ultimately decorative. Yet this iconic design has roots in more than just aesthetics. Legend has it that the Chesterfield was commissioned in the 18th century by Lord Philip Stanhope, the 4th Earl of Chesterfield, with a very specific purpose: to allow gentlemen to sit upright without wrinkling their perfectly tailored clothing. This wasn’t just about comfort - it was about projecting an image, a philosophy of refinement and control.

The design itself was revolutionary for its time. The deep, button-tufted leather upholstery, low back, and rolled arms created a structure that exuded both elegance and restraint. It wasn’t a piece of furniture you slouched in- it was a seat you inhabited with purpose. And that’s what makes the Chesterfield fascinating. It wasn’t just built to serve a function; it was built to embody an ideal.

Over the centuries, the Chesterfield sofa has shed its exclusive aristocratic ties, becoming a staple in homes, hotels, and offices worldwide. Its adaptability has kept it relevant, with modern versions experimenting with bold fabrics, brighter colors, and unexpected shapes. And yet, the essence remains unchanged: the Chesterfield is more than a sofa. It’s a statement, a silent testament to the power of thoughtful design.

written by Helen M. Krauss

Why Do We Have Skirting Boards?

Skirting boards, or baseboards, are such a quiet feature of interior design that they often go unnoticed- but their origins are steeped in both function and style. Historically, skirting boards were introduced in the 18th century, particularly in Georgian architecture, as a practical solution to cover the gap between uneven plaster walls and floors. In an era when plastering was imprecise, these boards hid imperfections and protected walls from scrapes and scuffs caused by furniture or cleaning tools.

But skirting boards weren’t just about utility. In well-to-do homes, they became an opportunity to showcase craftsmanship and elegance. Intricate moldings, often carved from solid wood or plaster, reflected the grandeur of the space, with higher baseboards signaling wealth and status. Over time, their design evolved alongside architectural trends - from the minimal lines of modernism to the ornate detailing of Victorian homes.

Today, skirting boards remain an essential part of interior design, blending function with aesthetics. They create a clean visual transition between walls and floors while continuing to protect against daily wear and tear. And for those with a sharp eye for detail, they offer a chance to add a touch of personality to a space. Whether simple or elaborate, skirting boards are proof that even the smallest design elements can have a rich history.

If you would like to read more, see also my blog post “The Devil is in the Details. Always.”

written by Helen M. Krauss