Introducing LDW Bookshelf

→ All news

Portugal has an extraordinary wealth of architectural heritage, craftsmanship and creative talent. From traditional techniques passed down through generations to contemporary design practices, there is a richness of materials, knowledge and cultural influences that deserves to be discovered and shared with a wider audience.

At Lisbon Design Week, our mission has always been to give visibility to this creative landscape, connecting designers, architects and artisans with new audiences, both in Portugal and internationally.
With LDW Bookshelf, we are introducing a new editorial series dedicated to books that explore Portuguese architecture, design, decorative arts and craftsmanship.

Through a personal selection of publications, we will share the stories, images and ideas that have caught our attention, and reflect on what makes each book worth discovering.
We believe these publications play an essential role in documenting and disseminating Portugal’s creative heritage, preserving knowledge and offering new perspectives on its evolution. They are also an invitation to look more closely at the objects, spaces, materials and traditions that surround us.

With LDW Bookshelf, we hope to contribute to this conversation, encourage curiosity and bring these stories to readers in Portugal and beyond. One book at a time.

Portuguese Houses with History

The quiet beauty of Portuguese domestic heritage

By Ana Anahory and Filipa Almeida | ORO Editions

There is something particularly moving about entering a house that seems to have remained untouched for generations. A house where the furniture, the objects, the fabrics and even the smallest decorative details have been preserved, almost as a tribute to the ancestors who once lived there.

This is what struck me most while discovering Portuguese Houses with History, a beautiful book by Ana Anahory and Filipa Almeida, documenting sixteen historic family houses across Portugal.

It reminded me of some of the large ancestral family homes in France, where successive generations seem reluctant to change anything, as though altering the original interiors would somehow disturb the memory and atmosphere of the place.

What emerges from these Portuguese houses is a certain modesty, an almost introverted character, even in some of the grandest properties. Bedrooms can be surprisingly monastic, with simple iron beds, modest textiles and very little decoration. There is a quiet elegance, a preference for utilitarian objects, alongside an evident fascination with influences from elsewhere, particularly England and Italy.

Yet what fascinated me most were the kitchens.

Almost without exception, these seem to be the spaces that have best resisted modernisation. With their tiled walls, marble worktops, copper pots, simple sinks, embroidered curtains concealing shelves and collections of everyday ceramics, they speak of a way of living and cooking deeply anchored in tradition. One can easily imagine large family gatherings, generous dishes prepared slowly and generations sharing meals around the table.

The book is also a wonderful celebration of the decorative arts. The photographs, taken by Birgit Svat using natural light, pay particular attention to details that might otherwise go unnoticed: a ceramic plate, a piece of silverware, a tapestry, a painted ceiling, a wooden chair or a beautifully decorated door. Portuguese azulejos, of course, appear throughout, revealing the extraordinary richness of the country’s craftsmanship.

This attention to objects is hardly surprising coming from Filipa Almeida, whose work as a curator and art director has long explored Portuguese material culture and traditions. Filipa has been part of Lisbon Design Week since its beginning, regularly presenting exhibitions and collections of objects in her Lisbon studio.

Each house is introduced through the authors’ personal impressions, before giving way to a succession of beautiful photographs. Sometimes I found myself wishing to know more about the history of a particular object or architectural detail. But perhaps this is precisely the intention: to allow us to contemplate these interiors, to discover them slowly, almost as though we were walking through the rooms ourselves.

Beyond their visual beauty, these photographs also raise a question about the future of such houses.

With the growing cost of maintaining historic family properties, many are already being transformed into hotels, holiday residences or other forms of accommodation. Portugal’s changing property market adds another dimension to this transformation. How many of these interiors, preserved through generations, will remain as they are?

A building can be restored, but its atmosphere, its collections and the accumulated memories of family life are much more difficult to preserve.

Perhaps this is what makes Portuguese Houses with History particularly relevant today. More than a beautiful architecture and interiors book, it is a tribute to a way of living, to the families who have preserved these homes, and to a remarkable heritage of Portuguese craftsmanship that deserves to be remembered.

How was the sequence of the 15 houses decided? I noticed that they are not presented in geographical order. Was there a visual or narrative logic, or another specific reason that guided the way they were selected and presented?

The sequence of the 15 houses was not based on geographical order, but rather on a concern for the rhythm of the book. We sought to alternate between different contexts, from urban centres to towns and villages, and to balance houses surrounded by gardens with others in which the architecture takes centre stage. We also wanted to avoid placing projects with similar characteristics next to one another, highlighting the diversity of styles and the originality of each house. The aim was to create a dynamic reading experience, in which the interplay between nature and architecture, as well as between different styles and atmospheres, would reveal the richness and variety of these homes.

I was particularly impressed by how well these houses have been preserved. Many seem to have retained not only their original architecture, but also their objects, interiors and the atmosphere of several generations. At a time when so many historic Portuguese properties are changing hands or being adapted for new uses, as you mentioned in the introduction, do you see this book as a way of preserving the memory of a domestic heritage that risks disappearing or being gradually transformed? And what can be done in practical terms to prevent this from happening?

The principles underpinning the selection of the houses were rigorous. Two of the key criteria were the preservation of the original furnishings and the absence of restoration work. The urgency behind this book stems from our feeling that these houses are becoming increasingly rare and difficult to preserve. Many go through complex inheritance processes that make them difficult to manage, while maintaining them requires a significant investment of time and money on the part of those who take on the responsibility of preserving them.

Through this book, we hope to raise awareness of the value of the heritage that still exists and encourage its preservation wherever possible. We understand that, in many cases, selling or adapting these houses is inevitable, but certain features can be retained without compromising comfort or functionality. The materials, construction techniques, designs and patterns found in these interiors reflect a body of knowledge and craftsmanship that, in many cases, can no longer be reproduced.

We hope the book will help raise awareness, serve as a source of inspiration, encourage people to appreciate what already exists and see it in a different light, and prompt them to question the need to replace or remove old elements whose historical and material value would be difficult to recover.

Photographs by Birgit Sfat