Words Vidula KotianDate 23 July 2025

Lukas Lewandowski is the force behind Casa Lawa, a lively retreat at the foot of Mount Etna in Sicily.

The Polish-born creative has drawn on his background in psychology, fashion styling, and hospitality to shape what feels like a collaboration in slowness. Once a 19th-century grape press, Casa Lawa is now a residency, kitchen, and guesthouse built on connection, creativity, and community.

During Design Week in New York City, we partnered with Casa Lawa for a colorful aperitivo in the lobby of our newest gem, The Moore—bringing Sicilian warmth and endless summer energy to the city. Now the journey continues. Later this year, Design Hotels x Casa Lawa Hotel Retreats will launch—offering immersive stays at our hotels, such as Palazzo Daniele, complete with workshops and local culinary experiences.

Ahead of our collaboration, we caught up with Lukas to explore his journey, the spirit behind Casa Lawa, and what it means to create a home that feels like belonging.

You’ve lived in places as different as Poland, Amsterdam, and now Sicily. What parts of your identity have stayed the same—and what has changed the most?

I think the part that’s remained constant is my curiosity. I’ve always been someone who observes—details, people, energy, colors. Whether I was growing up in Poland, living in Amsterdam, or pruning my orchard in Sicily, I’ve always tried to make things feel more beautiful, more intentional. What’s evolved is how I carry that. I used to think everything had to be perfect. Now I believe more in imperfection, in process, in warmth over polish.

You spend so much time creating meaningful spaces for others—what kind of environment makes you feel at home?

Quiet. Something warm but uncurated. A room that smells of something just baked, windows open, music on. A place where I don’t need to explain myself. Lately, I love to eat alone and recharge. Movies alone are my moments too. 

“I cooked, I hosted one guest, then another. Eventually, it turned into a rhythm. People came, they stayed, they helped with gardening or making jam.”

Let’s start with your journey—how did you go from art direction to hosting retreats at Casa Lawa in Sicily?

It was never a straight line. I was working in fashion and creative direction, always traveling, always producing. And then, during the pandemic, everything slowed down. We bought this house in Sicily—a ruin, really—and I came down to feel it out. I cooked, I hosted one guest, then another. Eventually, it turned into a rhythm. People came, they stayed, they helped with gardening or making jam. Slowly, Casa Lawa became this living concept—a guesthouse, yes, but also an idea. A way of gathering.

Casa Lawa isn’t just a retreat—it’s a living, collaborative space. How do you approach co-creating experiences with creatives from different fields?

With a lot of listening. I never want to impose a fixed idea of what something “should” be. When a chef, a designer, or a journalist comes, we sit at the table, share a meal, and imagine something new together. I hold the frame, but I leave room for them to fill it in their way.

You’ve welcomed artists, chefs, and storytellers into Casa Lawa. How do you balance hosting while giving others space to lead and shape the retreat?

It’s a dance. My job is to keep the energy steady—to make sure everyone feels supported, seen, and well fed. But once the right people are in the room, I step back. I trust them. And often, the most magical moments happen when I’m not orchestrating but just witnessing.

The recent aperitivo at The Moore in New York brought Casa Lawa’s warmth to the city. What did that teach you about adapting your vision to different places?

It taught me that the feeling of Casa Lawa isn’t tied to geography—it’s a spirit. You can bring that to a rooftop in New York or to a city apartment in Paris. It’s in the way people gather, the food you serve, the ease of the night. An intimacy can be portable.

We’re soon launching our retreats in Italy. What would you carry forward from Casa Lawa—and what might evolve in a new setting with a different Design Hotels backdrop?

I’d carry the essence—community, slowness, joy. But I’d also be curious about responding to the place. Every region has its own stories, its own produce, and the food is the heartbeat of each retreat. This will be the most exciting part. I’d let the landscape and the locals guide the rhythm—so the retreat feels like it belongs there. 

“We eat together. That’s the secret. A long table, hands passing bread, stories shared between bites. I also try to start each retreat with a cozy aperitivo and a communal walk to the garden. No rush, no pressure.”

You work closely with local producers, from winemakers to farmers. How do those relationships shape the retreat experience at Casa Lawa?

They’re everything. These people are the soul of the place. When guests meet them—taste the wine, walk through the orchard, and eat a tomato that smells like sun—they connect to Sicily in a much deeper way. This is not about luxury, it’s about truth. And truth tastes really, really good.

How do you foster a sense of belonging among retreat guests from such diverse backgrounds?

We eat together. That’s the secret. A long table, hands passing bread, stories shared between bites. I also try to start each retreat with a cozy aperitivo and a communal walk to the garden. No rush, no pressure. We chat, introduce ourselves, and after a few days, we are one big family. It’s about making them feel safe enough to be different, together.

Casa Lawa spotlights the people who make a place special. How do you elevate local voices and culinary perspectives in your programming?

I try to step out of the spotlight. I love curating, but I don’t need to be the loudest voice in the room. Whether it’s my favorite pastry chef making granita or a nonna showing us her pasta dough, I let them lead.

Looking ahead, what projects or partnerships excite you most—within Sicily or beyond?

I’m excited to design more memories—through the products I create or experiences I shape. I’m dreaming of visiting Japan this fall.