Symphonies in Space: The Quiet Elegance of Alexandra de Garidel | Alexandra de Garidel

Alexandra de Garidel

Founder & Artistic Director

In the world of design, where form often eclipses substance, and aesthetics flirt dangerously with excess, Alexandra de Garidel stands defiantly apart—composing symphonies not only for the eye, but for the soul. The founder and artistic director of AVILDA SA is not merely a designer. She is an orchestrator of elegance and emotion, a composer of atmosphere whose work reverberates far beyond the confines of polished marble and curated lighting. Her journey began in finance, but what could have been a stark juxtaposition became a quiet alchemy—a fusion of discipline and poetry that pulses through every AVILDA project.

She speaks of Excel with reverence—an unlikely muse in the realm of design. But for Alexandra, finance is not a forgotten prelude; it’s the metronome that steadies the rhythm of her creativity. Precision, clarity, the pragmatism of judgment—these are qualities she carries like heirlooms into every pitch, every sketch, every breath of decision-making. Her sensibility is rooted in horse sense, a term she favors: that elusive blend of instinct and reason, often underappreciated, never unwise. It is this dichotomy—rigor and reverie—that shapes her leadership at AVILDA, where beauty never floats untethered but is grounded in coherence and integrity.

Step into any of her spaces—be it a chalet folded into the Alpine quiet or a commercial realm pulsing with metropolitan energy—and the melody reveals itself. A client may be disoriented at first, unable to decipher a signature style. There are no obvious leitmotifs. No recurring motifs in palette or era. But the seasoned eye catches it: a narrative unfolding, each project a chapter in a sprawling novel only Alexandra could pen. She is less decorator than dramatist, composing interior worlds with the sensitivity of a storyteller and the rigor of a symphonist.

Her spaces breathe. They unfold in perspective, with high ceilings like inhalations and generous volumes that allow ideas to drift without friction. Each room leads into the next with intuitive grace, a choreography of purpose and flow. There is no ornament for ornament’s sake. Every object must earn its place. Beauty, while essential, is never sufficient. Harmony is the objective—an elusive quality that arises not from symmetry but from intent. Her creations are complete in the way that nature is complete: nothing to add, nothing to subtract, only balance shaped by thoughtful design.

The AVILDA aesthetic is steeped in heritage yet uncompromised by rigidity. It draws from the twin wells of French elegance and Swiss precision. The former whispers through noble materials and the demure poetry of proportion; the latter anchors through clarity and discipline, ensuring each line and layer is executed with faultless intention. Alexandra doesn’t replicate across borders—she translates. Each location becomes a dialect, each project a nuanced conversation with its surroundings. As AVILDA strides across continents—from the Middle East to Eastern Europe, from Africa to the Americas—the story remains hers, told anew in different tongues but always in her voice.

Execution, for her, is where enchantment meets reality. A brilliant idea, she insists, is only half the battle. The other half lies in translating it flawlessly onto the stage of brick and beam. This demands collaboration, not convenience. Her partners must possess both precision and sensitivity—an understanding that what they build is not merely space but emotion. If budgetary constraints force a new cast, Alexandra adapts the score, but the melody remains hers, unwavering.

She began a project years ago. Not to make money, but to make meaning. She called it “Alexandra de Garidel by…”—a collection of objects created in collaboration with artisans of rare skill. Objects that once had meaning in the French art de vivre, but now lie neglected: trays, glasses, linens, boxes, candle holder. Things people use daily but do not see. She wanted to re-enchant them. To give them back their poetry.

The first prototypes were disappointing—pretty, but soulless. That’s when she made a decisive choice: to create her first collection with Bernard Delettrez, a Roman jeweler whose craftsmanship she deeply admired. His savoir-faire was the guarantee of excellence the project needed.“ We understood each other instantly. I handed him my sketches, and together we spent four years shaping the vision”. The result was “The Beauty and Our Beasts”—a name that isn’t clever, just true. The collection was unveiled last year in Paris.

The next project? Glassware. Not crystal trophies, but glasses people actually use—each one a small act of grace. She speaks of it as one might describe a short story: the curve, the weight, the light. She wants glasses that tell a story just by being held.But ideas need funding. So she waits. Patiently. The vision is there. Ready.

“I don’t have a style,” she says, “I have a method.”Every project is written before it is drawn. Literally. She composes the story of the space first. Then comes structure. Then light. Always light.Her rooms are not showrooms. They are sanctuaries. Air flows, ceilings lift, light travels. Each object serves. Not just in function—but in grace. Harmony, not ornament. That’s the essence.

Before the interview ends, she offers something more. A warning. Or maybe a plea. “We build too fast,” she says. “Too cheap. Too empty.” She wants us to think again about home. Not as a showcase. But as shelter. As history. As something to pass on, not tear down. She asks for permanence. For intention.

Alexandra de Garidel does not design to impress. She designs to endure. And that makes all the difference.