A glass box on the BeltLine.
Light on two sides. A single quiet wall. Walnut, oak, leather, stone.
Open to the trail by day. Closed to it by evening.
997 square feet.
A table of walnut for eight. Chairs by Wegner at the glass. A low sofa turned toward the trees. Shelves by Perriand. One lamp by Henningsen above the table.
Shades of linen lower when you are seated.
The Room
One tenant at a time.
An evening.
A fortnight.
A month.
The room is prepared before arrival and returned to stillness after.
Time
Within
Valet upon arrival for your guests.
A space held in your name.
An additional private outdoor pavilion on the trail, for cocktails before or after.
An officer at the door, by request.
A card that opens the room. Yours for the stay.
Use
A month.
Pavilion becomes the house of one brand. Your object at the glass, your image on the wall, your guests received by appointment. The trail passes. Nobody else comes in.
An evening.
Eight at the table, or forty standing. Your chef, your list, your music or none. The shades lower at dusk and the room is yours until the last client leaves.
A fortnight.
For those clients you most want to keep. A private suite to receive them, one or two at a time, with a key that is yours for the stay and a pavilion on the trail for the hour after.