ROSA MARÍA HOUSE
This house is organized around two patios that give shape to the space and infuse it with meaning. They are not merely voids between walls—they are lived spaces that draw the garden into the interior and blur the boundaries between inside and out. In winter, they gather light generously; in summer, the water in the reflecting pool brings coolness and a gentle murmur that quietly accompanies life.
The entrance to the house unfolds as a measured, almost ceremonial sequence. A long white wall guides the approach with discretion, leading to a porch shaded by wooden slats. From there, a gentle, elongated ramp begins to ascend almost imperceptibly, as the space narrows and the light gradually dims. The transition from exterior to interior, from brightness to shadow, is thus carefully amplified. The entrance hall maintains this restrained height, and a faint, filtered light begins to seep in through the patios, which naturally guide and structure the path. It is they who set the rhythm of the house, leading toward the main space, where the volume rises and natural light finally floods in.
The architecture opens up only then—after a quiet, deliberate journey full of intention. The project stems from a search for the essential: proper orientation, serene proportions, and honesty in the use of materials. The bedrooms face east, welcoming the morning sun, and are set slightly lower than the rest of the house. This difference in level allows for an intimate visual connection with the garden, almost at ground level, and contributes to thermal comfort during the warmer months.
Daily life is organized around the main patio. The living and dining rooms open out
toward it and extend to a large south-facing porch that shields the glazed openings from excessive sunlight and allows for a way of living on the threshold between interior and exterior.
The roof does more than simply cover; it folds with precise geometry, gathering and softening the light, creating an expression that is sober yet distinctive. From the volume that rises above the rest of the house sits the study—a suspended space for work and contemplation, visually connected to the surrounding oaks and granite outcrops.
One of the most distinctive elements of the project is the staircase leading to this
study. Light and suspended, made of metal with wooden treads, it floats in space like an autonomous piece. It hangs from the upper structure without direct supports, and its presence elegantly marks the vertical core of the house. It not only leads to the elevated study—facing the hills of Galapagar—but also subtly structures the transition toward the bedroom area, as if guiding the path without dictating it.
The materials used follow a logic of harmony and permanence over time: white-
rendered walls and warm pine wood. The flooring is made of hand-fired clay tiles
crafted in Morocco. Each piece, unique and irregular, was carefully laid by Moroccan artisans over the course of several weeks. Their meticulous work took longer than the entire assembly of the metal roof structure, making this floor a true jewel of the house.
That structure, by contrast, was prefabricated in a workshop and arrived on site already cut, allowing for quick and precise installation—a clear expression of efficiency and control.
This is not an architecture that seeks to stand out, but a house that allows itself to be inhabited. One that converses with its surroundings and with time, and that aspires— through restraint—to accompany life in a natural and quiet way.
