Marie Michielssen’s Earth Floor Lamps for Serax

Marie Michielssen hand shapes papier mâché into cylinders for Serax’s Earth floor lamps, layering the material until it holds a tapered, organic form. Each lamp carries the impression of fingers, the deliberate pressure of someone working without moulds or mechanical assistance. The result is a column in cream, soft ochre or pale grey, its surface textured and slightly imperfect, built to diffuse light rather than project it.

When lit, the lamps glow softly from within, casting amber tones across a room. The papier mâché absorbs rather than reflects, and the matte finish means the lamps develop a patina with time and use, marked by dust and handling. The choice of papier mâché is deliberate: humble, almost forgotten as a material for lighting, treated here not as a budget solution but as a primary aesthetic language. Michielssen’s work moves between furniture, lighting and vessels, each approached with the same attention to material and form.

Serax, the Belgian ceramics and design house founded by Koen Vanmarcke, has built itself on the principle that everyday objects can carry both utility and genuine aesthetic intention without being precious. The Earth lamps fit that philosophy: they are functional, with straightforward efficiency, and sculptural, earning their place through proportion and material honesty. In afternoon light they sit quietly; as evening comes, they become the warmest object in the room.

Michielssen’s practice sits at the intersection of craft and design. Her work moves between furniture, lighting and vessels, each category approached with the same attention to material and form. The Earth lamps feel like a natural extension of that sensibility: they are functional sculpture, or sculptural function, depending on how you look at them. The papier mâché surface catches light differently depending on the angle and the time of day. In afternoon light, the lamps sit quietly in a corner. As evening comes and the light is switched on, they become the warmest object in the room.

The cylinders come in a restrained palette of natural tones, colours drawn from earth and clay: cream, soft ochre, pale grey. There is no gloss, no reflective surface. The finish is matte, absorbed into the material itself. That choice, the decision not to varnish or seal the papier mâché into glossy protection, means the lamps age with use. They develop a patina. They become more themselves over time, marked by dust and handling and the accumulated evidence of being lived with rather than displayed.

What makes these lamps matter is not novelty or technical innovation. It is the commitment to making something by hand in an era when that has become genuinely rare in lighting design. It is the choice of papier mâché, a material that feels humble, almost forgotten, treated here not as a budget solution but as a primary aesthetic and tactile language. It is the understanding that light, that most immaterial of elements, benefits from being contained and diffused by something with real physical presence and warmth.

The Earth lamps work alone in a corner or in groups, their cylindrical forms creating vertical lines that draw the eye upward. They work in a bedroom, a studio, a living room, anywhere that benefits from warm, undemanding light and the quiet presence of something made with actual intention. In a world of mass produced fixtures and bright task lighting, they offer something different: a reminder that a lamp can be both useful and genuinely considered, both simple and complete.

Imagery courtesy of Serax (@serax_official).