The Great Escape—
a Luxury Family Bran
in Johannesburg’s Graslands

(Living) There are places that invite you to slow down. For Johannesburg-based interior designer Lisa Storer, the call to leave the city came not as a disruption, but as a quiet unfolding—an opportunity to design a life more deeply rooted. What followed was the creation of a home on Monaghan Farm: a private estate located some 40 minutes north of Johannesburg, nestled within the vast, elevated plains of the Highveld.

This region—known for its golden grasses, striking skies, and sharp winter light—offers a dramatic yet meditative setting. Lisa chose this landscape not only for its natural beauty, but for the way it invites openness and reflection. “We wanted the house to feel like part of the land,” she shares. “To rise out of it, not sit on top of it.”

She partnered with Morris&Co, a Johannesburg-based architectural practice known for its context-driven and poetic approach to design. Their brief was quiet and clear: to create a home that would not dominate its environment, but respond to it. The resulting structure is low-slung and horizontal, deliberately held to a single storey so as not to intrude upon the uninterrupted sweep of the horizon.

The home’s layout is arranged around a series of internal courtyards that orchestrate both circulation and stillness. These open voids draw in natural light and air, ensuring that no corridor or room is disconnected from the environment. “Every passage, every threshold, has a sense of place,” notes the team at Morris&Co. “There are no spaces without light or purpose.”

From the exterior, the home presents as a trio of contemporary barns—modest in form yet richly textured. Corrugated metal, local stone, and concrete shape its skin, echoing the Highveld’s raw palette while aging naturally in the elements. Within, the architectural language softens: smooth concrete floors, exposed poplar beams, and expansive glazing lend a warm, immersive quality.

Lisa’s interiors are quietly expressive—a study in emotional design. “Each room begins with a single piece that anchors the story,” she says. In the lounge, it was a worn blue rug. Around it grew a palette of deep greens, vintage chairs, and a fireplace meant as much for reading as for retreat. The kitchen, with its exposed beams and honest materials, is a deeply functional space, but also the spiritual core of the home. It is here that mornings unfold slowly over coffee and light.

There’s a looseness to the layering of objects—nothing feels staged or overly resolved. Antique finds sit beside contemporary furniture; Moroccan brass bowls catch the afternoon light; dried flowers fall elegantly into unplanned arrangements. “I’m drawn to things that carry soul,” Lisa explains. “I collect with intuition, not intention. If I feel something, I bring it home.”

This spirit continues in the bedrooms, particularly those of her children. There is a playful poetry in each space: whimsical wallpapers, romantic beds salvaged from antique shops in France, textured textiles that speak of comfort and imagination. “Designing for them is joyful,” Lisa says. “You can be bolder, freer.”

Throughout the home, natural light choreographs the rhythm of the day. Mornings are spent in the east-facing kitchen and dining area, where the early sun warms the concrete underfoot. Afternoons pull the family toward the television room or courtyard, where fires are lit and windows frame the long views. In summer, life shifts entirely outside—to the pool house, the veranda, the breeze.

And yet, despite its sophistication, this house feels personal, lived-in, alive. “Each room is like a friend,” Lisa smiles. “They each hold a different energy, serve a different part of you. But there is love in every corner.”