During New York’s NYCxDesign festival in May, British designer Lee Broom reimagined the living room of his Tribeca penthouse (which functions as both a showroom and his personal pied-à-terre) to feel like the private sanctum of some ancient philosopher. Dusty rose curtains covered the walls while antique globes, hourglasses and stacks of books were scattered across the tables. Adding to the overall spirit of enlightenment was the lighting itself: an exciting lineup of pendants, sconces and chandeliers collectively dubbed Alchemist.
Deeper study of the designer’s new collection revealed no shortage of cerebral associations — including connections to astrology, magical realist fiction and even famous landmarks like Stonehenge. Below, Broom talks us through the many intellectual layers of his latest designs.
This launch is following in the footsteps of your last big collection, Divine Inspiration, which took cues from places of worship. Alchemist is another very mystical series. What keeps bringing you back to those spiritual associations?
- Lee Broom
I think that lighting naturally has a lot of spiritual connotations. When people talk about energy or spirituality, they often refer to light. And back in antiquity, lighting was one of the fundamental things that designers of churches or other places of worship focused on, because they wanted to draw your eyes up to the ceiling to bring you closer to the heavens.
How do ideas like that drive your design process?
Since the beginning, I’ve always designed from an emotional rather than a functional place — for me, the functionality comes in afterwards. When I started, I didn’t admit that as much because there is this idea that form follows function, but now I don’t care. My products bring joy and pleasure, and you can’t do that without putting emotion into a piece. It’s the same as with art, in a way. I find it strange that somebody would go to someone’s house for dinner and be looking at a piece of art while talking about the artist and emotion and passion behind it, but at the same time they’ve been sitting on a chair for three hours and nobody’s talked about it.
Your latest designs make for especially great conversation pieces because of the rich stories behind them. This collection is named after The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. How did that novel serve as a starting point for these lights?
The book is about a shepherd’s journey to find treasure, but it is filled with spiritual meaning and metaphors that a lot of the pieces relate to, while also pulling from mythology and other fables. In another sense, I was also drawing from the actual process of alchemy, which is why the collection focuses on metal. I mean, I’ve used a lot of metal before, but alchemy is really about turning a base metal into something more precious — in this case, a beautiful light fixture.
What are some ways that the end results reflect that idea of magical transformation?
Most of these designs find really unusual ways to encapsulate a light source, with lots of hidden technical components. Mythos is one example. It’s partly inspired by jewellery from antiquity and Egyptian times, but I wanted to really confuse the viewer about how it’s made.
Essentially, it’s illuminated spheres trapped inside very simple rectangular links. But by stitching the wiring into the leather straps it hangs from, we manage to give the impression that there are no cables whatsoever. The electricity runs through the brass to the underside, and then the bulb screws in, so it’s actually quite simple, but it has this magic. With most of these pieces, I tried really hard to eliminate as many seams and screws and things as possible. You don’t necessarily think about those things when you look at a light, but you would definitely notice if they were there.
The majority of the collection is made from brass — with blackened and brushed finishes — except the King chandelier, which is made from aluminum. What made that the right material for that design?
I wanted the laser-cut leaves in King to be as thin and precise as possible so that we can connect them together. They’re all brushed by hand, then anodized, and then riveted together into rings with these tiny individual rivets. There’s a hidden LED inside and I love when it’s switched on, but I really love when it’s switched off as well.
It’s inspired by King Arthur and the idea of combining medieval and brutalist touches. I feel like the two have some connections — particularly in things like jewellery and coronets and crowns. I was looking at images of these really battered, rusty medieval crowns, and they actually looked like brutalist light fixtures from the 1960s. So I was like, ok, that is the story.
Mythos and Solstice are offered as both sconces and pendants. Which came first?
Often I start by designing a pendant, and then the business development team tells me to add a sconce. Everybody wants wall sconces, apparently. And I do listen to them — I just don’t focus on that as the starting point. Because I think if I just do what I want to begin with, at the end of the day, it’ll work out better.
But Solstice is the rare one that actually started off as a wall fixture — just a sphere propped to the wall with a super-slim channel around it. It’s a little 1960s — you can see a lot of mid-century references in my work — but mystical as well. I felt really inspired by Stonehenge, where I had stopped on the way to a friend’s wedding just outside of Glastonbury. It’s such a magical place — I mean, it’s one of the oldest monuments in the world, and nobody really knows why it’s there. Supposedly it’s a clock — and during the winter and summer solstice, there are a lot of festivals that happen there. So I created the illuminated globe to be the sun, and then the square brass section represents the monolithic stones. Once I had the wall version, I designed a pendant where you can have one square, connect them as a duo or potentially keep it going. And it rotates as well — bringing in the idea of how the sun rotates around.
Gemini is the fourth and final range in the collection. The dynamic between the two parts feels reminiscent of your Crescent lights, but in a new shape.
Yes. Crescent is one of our best-known pieces from like, 10 or so years ago now at this point, and Gemini is kind of inspired by that same idea of two opposing pairs that have shifted. The name Gemini comes from the astrological sign, and the idea of twins. My mother was a twin, and there are a few in my family, so I’ve grown up with a lot of twinning in my life. I think that’s why I’m drawn to this idea so much. But the new form also has some references to alchemical apparatuses, like crucibles and flasks, which gives it a slight industrial touch. And you can hang these in multiple variations — horizontal and vertical.
You’re launching these in your Tribeca penthouse, which is part showroom, part personal residence. What do you like about this part of the city?
Upstairs on the wall in my studio, I have a leather jacket that Keith Haring painted with a crucifix for his boyfriend. I bought it years ago, and I originally had it in my apartment in London. But when I read that his studio had been just up the street from me here, I had to bring it to New York. They have a little plaque outside his building — which is, interestingly, right by where Rihanna and A$AP Rocky live. There are a few fancy neighbours around — though I’ve only seen Mariah Carey once.
Speaking of music, what are we listening to here in your installation?
It’s Bach. I listen to a lot of music when I’m designing — a lot of classical. And I felt like a more Baroque soundtrack worked with this collection.
What made you plan this sort of magical study-style setup for the launch of Alchemist?
These lights are all produced at our factory in London, but I designed many of them in my office right upstairs, so it’s full circle. The downstairs installation is a more immersive showcase and speaks to the emotional side of design, but then we have them installed in some of the living spaces upstairs too, where people can see them in a residential setting. Plus, that means I get to actually live with them. I have two Mythos pendants hanging on either side of my bedroom.
What’s it like, living somewhere that’s also a showroom?
I’m here about a third of the year, and I’m definitely the right person for it, because I’m pretty tidy anyway. My apartment in London is not a showroom, but there is still kind of nothing extra in it. If I were the type of person who loved clutter, I might not have signed up for it. But I can’t bear having anything that’s just going to collect dust.
How the designer’s four new ranges transform metal and mythology into magical lighting.