I don’t believe there is a heaven for houses, but if there were one, it would be the same one for all of us, because every inhabitant leaves a piece of their soul in the making of a house, and a little more over a lifetime.
Nothing makes someone who they are except their essence itself.
Things can be seen in many ways; in fact, they can look almost however you want. The same is true of people: they can wear makeup, dress up, put on disguises and look different every day, every hour, in every act. What they cannot do is be something or someone different, not really. You can never be something you are not.
Houses live under this same law, saying, statement or whatever the previous paragraph was. They can take many shapes and colors, or have different scents and textures. The same house can be dressed one way or another. It can change its materials, its size, and perhaps, if we had machines able to do it without much fuss, we could even move it somewhere else. Even so, it would still be the same house.
So what makes a house the house? It may be a mystery, or a philosophical point to unfold over many pages. What I will tell you is that the house is not its materials, nor its colors, nor its many outfits. No, a house is a set of material elements that conjure, in turn, a set of spaces. That set of spaces is the house; in other words, the house is something abstract. It is not at all easy to express in images or plans. That is why it is so hard for clients to understand the plans, perspectives, renders and everything else we architects present. The truth is that many of us live under the illusion that houses can be contained on a sheet of paper with lines, in a single view, or in the choice of their materials. Houses are very complex, and it takes a great deal from many people to bring them to life.
Since a house is, in the end, space, that is, the void between materials, how can a house be conceived? Through architectural expression, of course, which is nothing more than a technique, a highly artistic one, since it seeks to convey something that is itself conveyed by something abstract (space), in order to show the architecture before it is built. But the problem is not expressing architecture; the problem is conceiving it. And who conceives it, the architect or the inhabitant? I firmly believe it is the inhabitant, because they are the one who asks for, requests or seeks, in one way or another, specific qualities for the set of spaces that will make up their home.
Interesting: should we create a degree or a course so that people learn how to ask for a house? Absolutely not. This is the architect’s job, and there are certainly stubborn and difficult clients, but even so, it is the architect’s job to guide them, so that later, once the original intention is well understood, the architect can work their magic.
Imagination is a very powerful tool for creating or designing a house. But how do we share imagination from one human to another? Easy, with drawings, right? Well, no, because we would be back where we started: architecture cannot be contained in them. So what then?
Fortunately, speech was invented, and stories, and tales, and anecdotes. Best of all, everything that is spoken can also be written. It is the most powerful way to communicate something abstract.
Through speech, a dialogue must begin between inhabitant and architect, in which the first idea is conceived. That first idea should not be about materials, or Pinterest examples, or the neighbor’s house. It should be about what is wanted for the space, what one wants to feel, what one wants to live, the way they want their home to welcome them every time they arrive, everything they want to feel there and want to happen, everything. Because everything that is said should give life to that abstraction, to that void between walls, to that house that will be shaped by the architect’s hands.