“Nature is always my inspiration,” sculptor Manuela Zervudachi says one morning at her Paris studio, a venerable metal-and-glass hut that, appropriately enough, resembles a little greenhouse. Here a bronze tree candelabra sprouts, there a bark-textured door pull waits, left over from 200 pieces of hardware that her twin brother, Tino , an AD100 designer, ordered for a client. Zervudachi traces her themes to childhood, when she and Tino shared a tree house and searched the skies for the heavenly bodies that also inform her oeuvre, from monumental (a staircase) to mignon (a ring).

Zervudachi’s sunlit Paris studio, an Aladdin’s cave of projects old and new.

The siblings grew up to be creative forces in a clan of Greek financiers and Irish war heroes, but the similarities end there. “We balance each other,” Zervudachi explains. “ He’s more rigorous and scholarly; I’m more out there.” And, she adds with a laugh, often unkempt: “Plaster is a wonderful medium but very dusty.” Her latest sculptures, debuting at Geneva’s Espace Muraille on May 24, explore the cosmos. One is an airborne assemblage of polyhedrons of black-glazed clay, a virtual meteor shower like the ones she looked for so long ago. manuelazervudachiom , espacemurailleom