The Lost Courtyard
A quiet light for forgotten courtyards and unhurried evenings beneath the open sky. Inspired by Dhyāna, the Sanskrit practice of presence, it invites us to linger a little longer.

Our lamps turn a room into a cosy haven where one can finally exhale, recharge and, most importantly, make everyday extraordinary.

Yogic wisdom starts with establishing that a human being is not a closed system; We are entirely permeable, and we are constantly consuming our environment.
The yogis understood that we also consume the weather, the architecture, the conversations we have, the art we immerse ourselves in, the walks we go on and most importantly, the light we sit in. The morning sun on the kitchen counter, the golden September angle on the limestone, the warm pool of gold in a corner on an overcast day are not simply decorative or functional; they are food.
Everything we take in through our senses is a form of biological nutrition. Light nourishes us.
Good lighting, like most clever things, is usually understated. In the houses that stay in our memory, light is less the hero more the feeling, layer over layer.
The light gathers from several places at once, a lamp low to the floor, another at the height of a shoulder, a calm glow again on a side table, so the room reads in planes of shadow and pools of light, some direct, some shaded, some diffused, depending on what the room needs and what the person in it needs.
Each Yoga of Spaces light is named for a place rather than a shape: a lost courtyard, a reading room, a library shelf, a window seat. The archetype tells us where we might feel we are with the light, the Sanskrit tells us what light is achieving there.
A quiet light for forgotten courtyards and unhurried evenings beneath the open sky. Inspired by Dhyāna, the Sanskrit practice of presence, it invites us to linger a little longer.
A low, steady light for rooms where books, silence and daydreaming are welcome. Inspired by Svādhyāya, the Sanskrit practice of self-study, it turns unwinding alone into a way of coming home and recharging.
A warm light for the small daily gatherings that deserve an extra touch of magic and glamour. Inspired by Sangha, the Sanskrit idea of community, it honours the conversations that make a house feel alive.
A considered light for the books, objects and keepsakes that tell the story of our homes. Inspired by Samskāra, the Sanskrit idea of lasting impressions, it honours the memories we gather and the traces they leave behind.
A generous light for open homes, shared meals and slow, special evenings. Inspired by Atithi, the Sanskrit idea of the honoured guest, it celebrates the grace of making room for others.
A soft pool of light for the cocoon where one can exhale and take stock whilst watching the world go by. Inspired by Śānta, the Sanskrit quality of tranquillity, it gives stillness somewhere to arrive.
A focus light for when we have a task at hand and everything else must blur romantically into the background. Inspired by Ekāgratā, the Sanskrit practice of single-pointed attention, it encourages single minded focus.
A light for the room where the day begins, when we are at our most recharged, to set us up for the day ahead. Inspired by Unmeṣa, the Sanskrit idea of awakening, it honours the gentle moment when mind, body and world begin to come to life.
A welcoming light inspired by the porch where cosy chats and cups of tea are like little pick me ups through the day. Inspired by Antarāla, the Sanskrit idea of the in-between, it celebrates the spaces where the outside and inside merge together.
Lighting a room well is the most transformative thing most of us can do to a home, and it is almost always the last thing we think about. A cosy balcony can have the same feeling as a countryside courtyard with the power of light.

A room needs different lights for different jobs, and a single fixture on the ceiling is, quite honestly, an unforgivable crime in our book.
The low, warm light (a room may need a few of these) has the most important job: to make a room feel like somewhere we are cocooned and content.
Bringing it down to the height we actually live at, a lamp on a side table, one on the kitchen counter left burning into the evening, another in the corner of the room, and the room stops being a flat sheet and starts reading in soft pools instead.
We firmly believe our lamps can change the mood of a room dramatically, letting us do the things that matter most to us in beauty and an old world glamour.

Our lamps are solid brass, not coated or plated. Each lamp, cast by hand, carries at least a whole kg of brass if not more. This weight is part of the experience: the lamp sits with steadiness, anchors with touch, and gathers the soft patina of a life lived around it.
A yoga of spaces, we are passionate about all things old and natural that age gracefully. Brass gives us that old world nostalgia, with a warmth and permanence built into it.
We read every enquiry ourselves, and we reply.