April in Brera: the Milanese sun is warming up, wisteria is in bloom, and the streets are buzzing in anticipation of Design Week’s frenzied arrival. “It’s the one time of year here that feels like New York,” jokes Gabriella Campagna (a native New Yorker and one half of creative studio, Casa Milana). She and her husband, designer Mario Milana, have Zoomed in from their home in the city’s design district, set within a 1920s-era limestone building along Via Palermo. And it’s here, during this year’s Salone del Mobile, that they will open their doors to present a capsule collection of rugs with Beni, glass drinking vessels with Laguna~B, and new pieces designed by Milana.

A few years ago, the couple and the first of their two children traded in New York City’s around-the-clock energy for Italy’s relaxed sensibilities, laying the groundwork for Casa Milana to be born. (Prior to this, Milana had founded his own studio in 2014 while living in Brooklyn, and Campagna was an actor before shifting into somatic therapy full-time.) They initially rented one apartment, a former shoe showroom, but when their neighbors on the same floor moved back to Germany after living there for 15 years, they quickly scooped it up. Then, they transformed the two spaces into what it is today—a place to call home, and to embody the Casa Milana identity. “The building is crumbling a bit, but it has all the original details intact and a lot of charm,” Campagna adds.

This relocation also marked a bit of a homecoming for Milana, who grew up in the Città Studi neighborhood. Naturally, the country’s quality of life and child-friendly pace were a motivating factor for the move, but it also gave the advantage of being in close proximity to the artisans Milana collaborates with. This easy access has allowed him to explore new materials, and for the studio to evolve more broadly. “To develop something, you have to have that in-person time,” he explains. “It’s really about the connection with the artisan.”

All of Casa Milana’s furniture, objects, and lighting summon feelings of conviviality and playfulness, but with an anchor in being supremely functional. Take the clever Giro dining table, for example, with its three rotating discs that offer a high-brow riff on the lazy Susan. “There’s always this aspect for the pieces to have flexibility of use based on whatever moment you’re having at home,” Milana says.

The duo first connected with Beni co-founder Robert Wright at a breakfast that Casa Milana hosted during a previous Design Week. “In the midst of Salone—the constant movement, the exhibitions, the pace—it can all feel a bit overwhelming and, at times, impersonal,” Wright says over email. But walking into their home rendered the opposite effect. “Gabriella was pouring coffee, there were interesting people sitting around chatting, and it created this rare moment of pause.”

When Milana and Campagna decided they wanted rugs that complemented their original terrazzo flooring (both for the floor and hung as tapestries), Beni was already top of mind. “They brought us the challenge of taking something hard, fixed, and architectural and translating it into something soft, warm, and full of movement,” Beni’s other co-founder, Tiberio Lobo Navia, says. The capsule collection is titled Unione—a nod to the terrazzo process of making a precious surface out of discarded pieces. In addition to sharing many of the same design principles, the collaboration was particularly fitting, as terrazzo is a motif that’s also prominent in Morocco, where the rugs are crafted.

Additionally, both Milana and Campagna hold a long-time meditation practice, which they used as an opportunity to create meditation mats with Beni. These circular rugs are woven at an elevated pile height, and can be stacked on a wooden base that was designed by Milana. “The meditation mat reflects the daily rituals that shape how Mario and Gabriella live,” Wright explains. “It’s a more minimal gesture, but one that feels deeply connected to their way of life and the atmosphere of their home.”

With Laguna~B, a Venice glassware brand created in the mid-1990s, Casa Milana introduces removable glass drinking vessels, each designed with a wooden base. “An object like glassware has an even stronger relationship with your body, so we thought, let’s look at this as a ritual again,” Milana says. The piece is divided into three elements: the body, base, and cap. Between the glass and the wood, they put a small nipple so it fits perfectly with the base. “There’s this subtle interaction that is almost maternal, which is why we called the collection Madre de Agua. It gets back to this idea of respect, life, the womb,” Milana says. “It’s interesting to experiment with objects like this.”

To cap things off, Milana is also introducing new furniture pieces during Salone, including an oxidized iron table, dining versions of his popular Vertebra chair, and a bookcase made from lightweight recyclable materials and constructed without nails or screws.

“We’ve been working with metals since the beginning,” Milana says of the Velum table. “It’s such a pure, beautiful material that gives you so many options in expressivity.” They took the oxidation “to the limit,” so it appears almost like wood at first glance. “We also added brass detail in the feet to underline the grounding force of the table,” he adds.

For Casa Milana’s first shelving system, Frequenza, the designer tapped into his appreciation for ’50s and ’60s library systems that one could assemble however they wished. “The idea here is presence and interaction. This wave [shape] accommodates different shelves so that you can mix it up. No nails—you can just pick them out and move them, almost like a drawer.”

As for the Vertebra chair? Milana has translated the flexible design into a dining silhouette, still with the two wood backrests that move with your spine as you shift positions. “You look at the chair, and it looks like, I don’t know, a torture device,” Milana says with a laugh, “but it’s actually very comfortable.” The idea for the chair came from a cane his father owned, made from the vertebra of a snake. Inside, there was a flexible spring, so when the user put their weight on the cane, it bent a little and accompanied their movement. “I thought there was such a beautiful little moment there and wanted to translate it into something functional under the umbrella of presence.”