In Sardinia, a Showcase for Craft and Culture Rises From Ruins

This article is part of our Design special section about the reverence for handmade objects.

It took nearly five years for Kyre Chenven and Ivano Atzori to buy a cluster of ruined houses in southern Sardinia.

The single-story buildings, or rather, the skeletons that remained, once made up a furriadroxu, a type of agrarian community common in the southwest region of the Italian island. The farmstead, likely constructed in the 19th century, was home to a sprawling family that long ago abandoned it for village life. Since 2022, however, the property has taken on a new identity: as Luxi Bia, a revitalized rural haven where curious visitors can immerse themselves in local culture and the natural environment.

“I think there were 14 people present when we signed the deal,” said Ms. Chenven, a 46-year-old woman with a short crop of blond hair and a shock of red lip stain. She was following Mr. Atzori, 48 — whose long gray hair was tied up in a pair of French braids that rested on his shoulders — through their grove of olive trees while explaining that Sardinia’s complicated hereditary tradition meant that houses were often divided between heirs by room. It took the couple an entire year and much cajoling to gather all the family members and convince them to sell.

Ms. Chenven and Mr. Atzori relocated with their two children from Tuscany to Sardinia in 2014. Though they had vacationed on the island and Mr. Atzori had family roots there, it was fundamentally terra incognita. Ms. Chenven grew up in San Diego and later worked as a set designer in New York City, and her husband, a former graffiti artist who painted under the alias Dumbo, is a native of Milan.

The couple were drawn to Sardinia’s deep and layered history. First inhabited in the Stone Age, it has long been defined by its isolation from the mainland, which allowed it to cultivate an independent and change-resistant culture.

Their first Sardinian venture, called Pretziada (“precious” in Sardinian), pairs contemporary international designers with local artisans to produce handmade objects and furniture. Collections have included hand-knotted tapestries depicting abstracted Nuragic architecture — prehistoric stone structures unique to the island — and modern takes on ornamental nuptial vases.

Luxi Bia (pronounced LOO-zhee BEE-uh), which translates to “light that has been seen,” similarly represents an outsider’s interpretation of local culture. At its most basic, it is a collection of holiday homes. But for Ms. Chenven and Mr. Atzori, it represents a different approach to tourism — one that allows those curious about Sardinia to briefly experience an often overlooked world.

Luxi Bia sits at the bottom of a shallow dish among rolling hills, their slopes dotted with mastic, pomegranate and almond trees that in late winter are just about to burst into bloom. From the crest of a hill, a glimmering sliver of the Mediterranean comes into view, too far to see pale pink flamingos wading through the shallow marshlands and the stony beaches that disappear into pristine turquoise waters a 20-minute drive away.

Ms. Chenven and Mr. Atzori designed Luxi Bia to be as closely aligned with a traditional furriadroxu as possible. The whitewashed stone houses sit in a tight cluster, enclosed by several rings of stone walls and a rapidly expanding fence of prickly pear cactus.

After completing their own home in 2017, they renovated a cottage to host visiting designers working with Pretziada. That project, which became the guesthouse called La Residenza, was finished in 2022.

The latest addition to the complex, available for rent on their website, is the two-bedroom Casa Corte, with the one-bedroom Casa Cubo set to follow later this year. The two units sit side by side in the same narrow building, occupying the precise footprint of the original stone house.

“The traditional architecture was always boxes that would be added on as your family grew,” Ms. Chenven said of the long, rectangular structure. “We wanted to use that same sort of concept.”

In rebuilding the ruined houses, Ms. Chenven and Mr. Atzori adhered as closely as possible to other vernacular features while staying true to Pretziada’s contemporary aesthetics.

The floors, for instance, would originally have been poured cement or rammed earth — materials not ideal for modern comfort or durability. Instead, the couple used terra-cotta tiles made from local soil by a company based north of nearby Cagliari. The ceilings are traditional tapestries of woven reeds held in place by gnarled juniper branches, coated with beeswax from a local producer to give them a hazelnut patina.

“Obviously, the original houses didn’t have these large windows,” Ms. Chenven said, referring to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that floods Casa Corte with afternoon light. “To us, it was more about a visual language.”

The roof, however, is authentic, made of terra-cotta tiles salvaged from the existing ruins. The couple and their two teenagers spent days removing moss and dirt from each piece by hand. “I think one of the ingredients that keeps this engine running is definitely being crazy,” Ms. Chenven said.

Within the houses are Pretziada’s furniture and objects. In the living room of Casa Corte sits a side table inspired by the paw-like feet of traditional carved wooden chests, fashioned in ash wood and Sardinian Orosei marble. It was created by Ambroise Maggiar, a French product designer collaborating with Karmine Piras, a Sardinian woodworker, and the stonemasons at C.P. Basalti, a local firm. Atop the tiled hearth on the opposite side of the room is a cluster of glossy black vessels by Mr. Piras’s daughter, Maria Paola Piras, a ceramist.

In the bedroom, an oval-shaped, chocolate-colored armoire, with amorphous sand-cast bronze hardware inspired by the work of the Sardinian sculptor Costantino Nivola, stands next to a monumental wooden bed with a wavy, saw-toothed headboard. Both were designed by Pretziada Studio and fabricated by Pierpaolo Mandis, a third-generation carpenter from Mogoro, a village in the center of the island.

Though both Pretziada and Luxi Bia draw from Sardinian aesthetics — and the craft knowledge used to realize them — Ms. Chenven and Mr. Atzori said the project’s value goes beyond surface appeal.

“We want to create an economy,” Ms. Chenven said. This is why they mostly produce items in runs rather than limited editions, she said, ensuring that their artisan-collaborators have a consistent source of income, and why they largely sourced the materials for Luxi Bia from Sardinian firms. The couple have not installed a pool on the property because they want visitors to make their way to one of the many local beaches, and in the process patronize the surrounding shops and restaurants.

They criticized the growing trend of folk-inspired design projects because many, they said, capitalized on the allure of traditional craft without making an effort to understand it or sustain those who practice it.

“We feel the responsibility to be cultural translators,” Mr. Atzori said, “creating bridges between the island and the rest of the world.”