Casa Preñada
Starting in the 1960s, faced with the need for rapid housing in cities where families and individuals from rural areas were beginning to arrive, a group of restless professionals (architects, artists...) emerged to study and research new ways of living. They sought to generate habitable spaces with programs and layouts that defied the canons of the fast-paced, speculative construction expanding in the wake of the rural exodus. Cities grew rapidly and invasively, with buildings rising as repetitive blocks that generated an oppressive facade rhythm. In contrast to these pragmatic architectures—which were merely the response of serialized floor plans—a large group of architects became interested in the search for new ways of dwelling, as was the case with Anna Bofill.
Drawing a parallel between that era and our current situation, today the rural-to-urban migration has stalled, but new movements and situations have emerged that saturate and strain the present real estate market. Mass tourism or the necessity of renting due to the scarce opportunity to access a first home have generated a whole catalog of works located in truly "ingenious" spaces, featuring architectures devoid of intellect, reflection, or spatial quality. Thus, under the motto of "anything goes," a series of works dubbed "houses" are proliferating in poorly conditioned places, lacking the resources capable of supporting a dignified life and, on many occasions, without the supervision of a qualified technician.
With all this in mind, and without pushing back entirely against the emergence of these new places, Casa Preñada is an exercise in reflection on the path currently taking root in today's world. It is a project that adapts a commercial premises into a dwelling. Belonging to an 18th-century building and inspired by the curved forms of its historic bellied wrought-iron balconies and the neoclassical paintings rescued on its facade, the transformation process involves rethinking how to inhabit spaces lacking key architectural protagonists—such as natural light, for instance—while maintaining the hope of offering a dignified living space. It is a habitat free from programmatic impositions, where one can tailor their way of life at will. Naturally, due to surface area constraints, this place is not suited for large families; however, compared to the 30.50 m² stipulated by Málaga's General Urban Development Plan for studio or one-bedroom apartments, this space offers over 70.00 m² of usable area for its typology. Fleeing from a speculative optimization where everything is compressed to the maximum to extract the highest economic yield was the first decision and the starting point for accepting the commission.
Regarding natural light, this architectural element has been the active driving force during the design phase, even dictating the materiality of the space. To intensify it, a modular construction system of galvanized sheet metal panels—assembled and shaped in a local workshop—was designed. It is an experimental intervention of demountable and reusable dry construction.
Continuing the search for new ways of dwelling, this project of open and flexible rooms, with an ambiguous and experimental appearance, expresses its desire not to condition the use to the form and geometry of the habitat. A space is generated capable of locating the minimum required service areas around the perimeter, sheltering the living area in the center. Behind this neutral and reflective skin hides a world of color that envelops the most intimate rooms or houses uses such as storage and utilities. The chromaticism of these rooms and certain details of the living space are inspired by the work of the painter of solitude, Edward Hopper. His work depicts domestic and intimate human scenes within public environments, as if they inhabited spaces not a priori conceived as places to live.
Thus, the result is a place suitable for living, yet versatile and capable of being reverted in the future, returning to the uses we were—or are—traditionally accustomed to finding in these street-level premises.
Fully aware of this, the project offers a new way of life directly related to the ground plane of the street, without turning its back on it. Living on the ground floor in a pedestrianized historic center, full of passersby, can also be a new way of connecting with these environments, perhaps even reminding us of what village life is like.
