Imagined for a wooded plot on the edge of Ukay Heights, the villa is a slender house of glass and bronze set among the trees, planned around rest, good food and the green light of the forest.
The first decision is what not to touch. The concept places the villa in a clearing that already exists, keeping the mature trees and letting the forest come right up to the glass. The house is long and narrow, one room deep, so every space has trees on both sides. A bronze frame holds the glazing, fine enough that the structure almost disappears into the shadows of the canopy.
Days here would be unhurried. Mornings begin with a swim, then breakfast at the kitchen island, a long slab of dark, gold-veined marble. Afternoons might be spent in the garden pavilion beside a stone water basin, reading to the sound of the stream below. In the evening the family gathers in the private cinema, a dark, enveloping room lined in walnut and wool.
Wellbeing is designed in, not added. Deep, bronze-edged eaves and the forest itself keep the glass shaded; cross-ventilation and ceiling fans carry the house through much of the year. Bedrooms face east for soft morning light. Privacy comes from distance and planting rather than walls, and the approach winds through the trees so that, by the time one reaches the door, the city has already fallen away.
