Every project begins before anything is built: with a point of view. Not simply a way of looking, but a decision about what deserves to be seen. A story, a gesture, a brand, a cultural moment — each already contains the outline of a world. My work is to recognise it, sharpen it and give it form. I began in scenography, learning how space can direct attention, create meaning and turn an image into memory. Television taught me immediacy. Fashion taught me attitude. Design, events and cultural projects expanded the scale, but not the intention. Whatever the medium, I return to the same question: how can an idea become physically undeniable? I do not think of space as a background. It is an active language. It can seduce, unsettle, reveal, persuade. A colour can define a point of view. A proportion can alter the way a body is perceived. A material can carry the weight of an era. Nothing is neutral, and nothing should exist simply to fill a void. Every element must contribute to an identity strong enough to be recognised, yet open enough to be felt. We live in a culture crowded with images and increasingly short on attention. Making something visible is no longer enough; it must possess a presence of its own. This is where creative direction begins: not in adding more, but in deciding what matters, what can disappear and what must remain. I believe in ambition, but also in precision — in protecting the strange, fragile core of an idea while giving it the structure to become real. I do not simply design sets. I build identities in space: worlds people can enter, recognise as singular and carry with them after they are gone.