Ridged Stone might be the star, but it's far from the only player in MCM's lineup of renovation-friendly materials. Let's dive into a few others that are making waves in historic preservation—materials that don't just fix old buildings, but elevate them.
Travertine (Starry Blue): A Night Sky for Historic Interiors
Step inside the renovated lobby of a 1930s theater in Barcelona, and your eyes will immediately be drawn to the walls. They're clad in travertine (starry blue), a material that looks like someone spilled a constellation across a deep blue canvas. Tiny, iridescent flecks catch the light, mimicking stars, while the stone's natural pores and veining add a soft, organic texture. The theater's original designers had dreamed of a "celestial" theme, but budget constraints in the '30s forced them to use plain plaster. Now, with travertine (starry blue), that dream has finally come true—without compromising the building's Art Deco bones.
What's remarkable about this travertine is how it balances drama with subtlety. In daylight, it's a calm, muted blue that doesn't overpower the theater's original marble floors. At night, under warm lighting, the starry flecks glow, turning the lobby into a space that feels both grand and intimate. It's a reminder that historic renovation isn't just about the exterior—interiors deserve love too, and materials like travertine (starry blue) let you tell new stories without erasing the old ones.
Not all historic buildings are stone and brick. Take the 1950s diner in upstate New York that recently underwent a restoration. Once a hub for truckers and locals, its exterior had been covered in cheap vinyl siding in the '80s, hiding the original metal panels that gave it that classic mid-century "diner glow." The owners wanted to bring back that shine but needed something durable enough to withstand harsh winters. Enter lunar peak silvery—MCM's take on a metallic finish that looks like aged silver, with just the right amount of patina.
Running your hand over lunar peak silvery is like touching a well-loved coin—it's smooth but not sterile, with a soft sheen that catches the sun without blinding. Unlike real metal, it won't rust or dent easily, and it's lightweight enough that the diner's wooden frame didn't need reinforcing. Now, when the sun rises over the parking lot, the diner glows like it did in 1955, and regulars swear it even smells like fresh coffee and pie again (though that might be the new kitchen). It's proof that "historic" doesn't have to mean "old-fashioned"—sometimes, it just means "true to its roots."
Let's talk about contrast. In Rome, a 16th-century monastery was converted into a boutique hotel, and the design team made a bold choice: pairing the original stone arches with fair-faced concrete walls. At first glance, it sounds jarring—ancient stone and modern concrete? But the result is breathtaking. Fair-faced concrete, with its subtle gray tone and visible aggregate, acts as a quiet backdrop, letting the monastery's ornate carvings and stained glass take center stage. It's like putting a masterpiece in a simple frame.
What I love about fair-faced concrete in historic settings is its honesty. It doesn't pretend to be something it's not. It's raw, unpolished, and that's exactly why it works. In the monastery's courtyard, where the original fountain still burbles, the concrete floors (stained a warm gray) complement the stone steps, creating a flow that feels both timeless and current. Guests say it's like staying in a museum that's also a home—you can touch the walls and feel both the past and the present.