Mubi and Dubi

When Maria Haralambidou wrote to me to share her idea and the People of the Sun project, I had no doubts. Her words and her journey convinced me right away, because they embody exactly what design should do: not just produce objects, but generate culture, safeguard knowledge, create connections, and open new possibilities for life.

After years of experience in London, Maria chose to live in Africa, in close contact with artisan communities. In Malawi she discovered the deeper meaning of design as a tool capable of preserving traditions while transforming them into contemporary languages. With this spirit she created People of the Sun, a brand that places craftsmanship, dialogue, and the principles of slow living at its core, building an authentic, shared, and universal code.

It was this approach, both human and visionary, that led me to immediately say yes. In her story, I saw myself reflected: design as exchange, as an intertwining of stories and skills, as a tool to restore dignity and value to what risks being lost.

From this encounter, Mubi and Dubi were born.

Mubi is a collection of baskets that I envisioned as small architectures of lightness. Their circular shapes, reminiscent of little skirts that seem to float, convey dynamism and movement while remaining still. I wanted to explore the apparent contradiction between solidity and fragility, between structure and dance, attempting to capture the grace inherent in the manual gesture of weaving. Each basket thus becomes not only a container but also a poetic image, almost a domestic sculpture that tells the stories of those who created it.

Dubi, on the other hand, is a collection of decorative wall panels that I chose to treat as artworks. Not simple furnishing elements, but three-dimensional paintings built through the layering of essential geometric forms. In their composition, these modules evoke references to animal and human figures, suggesting the profound relationship between humankind, nature, and collective imagination. The wall thus becomes a narrative surface, a place where the language of design approaches that of painting and sculpture, opening itself to a more artistic and contemplative dimension.

My design intention was to establish a respectful and fertile dialogue between tradition and contemporaneity. I did not want to impose an external language, but rather to create common ground, where local signs and decorations could meet my stylistic codes. I introduced colors and textures not to replace but to enrich, in a logic of fusion rather than superimposition. I believe the true value of this project lies precisely in this ability to unite two worlds without erasing them, but instead enhancing their differences in a shared result.