Most houses here were built to keep weather out and ended up keeping the country out with it. My first list is always subtraction: which wall closes the cross-breeze, which ceiling is holding the heat, which window is in the wrong wall. Only then do we talk about finishes.
What follows is a small, controlled palette — polished concrete, local timber, stone, lime plaster, linen — with colour arriving in one or two deliberate places rather than everywhere. The detailing comes from the workshop habits of luxury goods: visible edges resolved, hardware chosen rather than accepted, nothing hidden behind trim.
And it has to survive a Costa Rican year. Salt air, humidity, insects and a rainy season decide what is actually a good material, which is why reclaimed teak and regional stone win over anything imported and fashionable.