10.3 CASA CRESPO
Doma magazine



1. Casa Crespo, view from the southeast corner


We started Casa Crespo with a detailed and rich description of the vision: the social space, specifically the ‘living room’ should be spacious enough to accommodate a large dining table, a big couch with a large TV, a snooker table, and even a DJ table for party days. It should also be open to the kitchen and take advantage of a double height, just as the client had seen in a Brazilian soap opera weeks before (very similar to Hoffman’s Palais Stoclet, even though we prefer his rival Loos at Villa Müller, for example). Kidding or not, they also mentioned that it would be good if the pool had a high diving board.







(2)- Casa Crespo, model – view from the pool to the porch.
(3)- Casa Crespo, ground floor plan.
(4)- Stahl House, Hollywood Hills, Los Angeles, Courtesy Stahl Family Archive.
(5)- Casa Crespo, view from the pool to the porch.
(6)- Casa Crespo, elevation.



Show me your Pinterest, and I will... do nothing out of it, but still.







(7)- Palais Stoclet, Vienna, Josef Hoffmann, 1911 in www.architectmagazine.com.
(8)- Casa Crespo, first floor plan.
(9)- San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane, Francesco Borromini, 1641, www.generativeart.com.
(10)- Casa Crespo, view from the central double height space.



EGYPTIAN HALL FOR PARTIES

The space (spazio) between the columns and the wall was covered by a floor (pavimento); this floor [...] provided a corridor or balcony all around. Above the columns there was a continuous wall with half-columns [...], letting the light into the hall and through which you could look into the hall [...]. These halls must have been particularly spectacular not only due to the splendour of the columns but also to their height [...]; they must have worked very well for occasions when they had parties or banquets.

Andrea Palladio, The Four Books of architecture, 1570, MIT Press, pp.41









(11)- Andrea Palladio, The Four Books of architecture, 1570, MIT Press, pp.42.
(12)- Sketch from the project process.
(13–15)- Casa Crespo, view from the corridor all around the central double height space.



THE DWELLING NATURE

A kind of “anti-domesticity”, as Pier Vittorio Aureli puts it, pervaded the entire research for an architectural truth to match this “fiction”. It may be an exaggeration, but the nature of this dwelling could be found in American boarding houses, where the socialisation of living in the communal area took place in a very open plan, essentially divided by structural elements of the building, with almost every function imaginable. That said, the private and strictly functional areas should be relegated to a parallel sphere that clearly separates social life from private/intimate life and reproductive work. All of them with a specific set of scenographic needs, the rooms on the upper floors were all ensuite (as in a real hotel), allowing for an autonomous scenographic performance: the pink room for the little girl, the large window with a view in the master bedroom, the aseptic and cleanable character of the kitchen/ laundry area, etc.









(30)- Ground Floor of Commodore Hotel with social areas - Typical American Boarding House in New York, 1919in Pier Vittorio Aureli, Martino Tattara, Living and Working, 2022, MIT Press, pp.30.
(31)- Typical Floor of Commodore Hotel with private rooms – Typical American Boarding House in New York, 1919in Pier Vittorio Aureli, Martino Tattara, Living and Working, 2022, MIT Press, pp.30.
(32)- Casa Crespo, model - central social space.
(33)- Casa de Férias - social space.
(34)- Casa Crespo, view fof the west facade.
(35)- Casa Crespo, west elevation.



STRATIFICATION

In order to put these parts together, we resorted to a recurring strategy of establishing a clear, stratified distinction between them: a spacious ground floor, essentially defined by the structural elements and an upper floor compartmentalised around a central congregating area, which is vertically connected to the ground floor in Casa Crespo.









(43)- Casa de Férias during construction.
(44)- Lote 7, detail.
(45)- Casa de Férias, detail.
(46) Casa de Férias, south facade.
(47)- Casa Crespo, detail.
(48)- Casa Crespo, detail.
(49)- Casa Crespo, longitudinal section.



HYPOSTYLE DOMICILE

The stratification idea, which has already been illustrated, is fundamentally made possible by the idea of a hypostyle domicile as a space of power and freedom. A theme widely explored in the history of architecture, having perhaps in the work of João de Castilho one of its highest exponents, particularly in Capela do Noviciado, Convento de Cristo, in Tomar.







(36)- João de Castilho, Capela do Noviciado, Convento de Cristo, Tomar.
(37)- Casa Crespo, horizontal detail.
(38–39)- Casa Crespo, sketch of the process, still testing a kind of double height facade based on Álvaro Siza’s Casa Beires.
(40)- Casa Crespo, view of the hypostyle porch.
(41)- Casa Crespo, view of the hypostyle porch.
(42)- Detail from Álvaro Siza’s Casa Beires, Póvoa de Varzim, reference facade from which we kept reminiscences.



STAPLING THE LAYERS: A PARTICULAR FRAMING

The connection between these seemingly assembled parts (which could either be divided in social area / rooms, as in Casa Crespo and Casa de Férias; or divided in garage / house, as in Lote 7) is always a shared theme and a kind of common project that is constantly changing and adapting. The staircase in Casa de Férias is a detached, suspended body from the main volume, with a chopped view given by the central landing window. We kept the same principle in Casa Crespo.
A few years ago, we heard a local man from Gemeses refer to the Casa de Férias as the “Casa do Americano” (House of the American), clearly referring to its type of wooden construction (since the client is Portuguese) and other odd features. The film “Ripley’s game” (2002), in which the American Tom Ripley becomes the owner of Palladio’s Villa Emo, shows the local Italians from Veneto gossiping about his way of occupying the villa. Τaste, one the most intriguing ingredients of a request, knows no social boundaries. Architects just have to accept tastes and lifestyles, not try to change them or educate people, but give them the most accurate architectural resonance. That’s why we are presenting many “echoes”: Casa Crespo and five other very different yet related villas, designed and built between 2016 and 2023. Testing the limits of convention is part of an architectural exercise and it should be done within the cultural framework of the request. With the progress of each project, this framework is usually much wider than one might first imagine. For this reason, the simple repetition of models is an inconsequential way out, instead we could make the history of architecture truly operative, informing new projects with very concrete and precise knowledge. The future of architecture can be its own selective recycling, its reprogramming, especially when the discipline’s conditions of production are radically different and economically, socially, and ecologically specific.








(16)- Casa de Férias, view from the interior staircase.
(17)- Casa de Férias, view from the east side.
(18)- Casa Crespo, stairs window.
(19)- Casa Crespo, location plan - peripheral area of Póvoa, mixing
productive fields, villas and a housing unit.
(20)- Casa Crespo, view from the northeeast.




60. Image taken from “Ripley’s game”, 2002, Liliana Cavani 


ARCHITECTS
ATELIERDACOSTA

PROJECT COORDINATION
Hugo Barros

TEAM
Hugo Barros
Pedro Matos
Ricardo Nunes
Emanuel Neves

STRUCTURAL ENGINEER
GEP

HYDRAULICS ENGINEER
GEP

ELECTRICAL ENGINEER
OHM-E

MECHANICAL ENGINEER
OMEGAFLOW

MAIN CONTRACTOR
Construções Mazesi
Manuel Dantas
Virgínia Cerqueira

CLIENT
Elizabeth and João Crespo

TOTAL SURFACE
395 m²

SITE
745 m²

PROJECT DATE
2018

COMPLETION DATE
2023

LOCATION
Póvoa de Varzim



Photos 1, 5, 10, 15, 20–21, 23–24, 33, 39, 43–44
by Francisco Ascensão

Photos 17–19, 26–28, 37
by Tiago Casanova




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When a temple suddenly appears - Doma magazine
João Paupério / Maria João Rebelo, Atelier Local



Casa de Férias, view from the street


MANNERIST, MANNERED, IN THE MANNER OF

Our first visit to ATELIERDACOSTA’s houses coincided with us discovering Hermann Czech’s “Essays on Architecture and City Planning”. Although we have no recollection of ever hearing the former refer to the latter, both seemed to share relevant points of view. “The closer architecture stays to life, the more complex it is; it can only be ‘simple’ when it becomes removed from it”1, wrote Czech. “Our time is all of history, as it is known to us”2, he concluded, quoting Josef Frank. This seems to be a particularly accurate way to describe the spirit of “Casa Crespo”, the first one we had the chance to encounter. From the exterior, this house does not stand out from the surrounding suburban “villas”, except for the fact that its façades show an exceptional care for composition; at least for the trained eye of fellow architects. On the contrary, once inside, it is impossible to remain indifferent to the exquisite anachronism of its octagonal central space, or to the baroque diagonals unfolding in its rear façade. Surprisingly, Borromini has found his way to the periphery of a peripheral city, of a peripheral country. Yet, as is characteristic of their work, this reference is not intended to remain a literal quotation, i.e. to appear in the manner of Borromini. Rather, it is used as a found and recycled formal device in order to organise a complex spatial structure for an otherwise ordinary suburban house.

Of course, there is always the risk that these formal games will be read as futile gimmicks, designed by an over-mannered architect. Or that they will not be “read” at all. What is extraordinary about these gestures, however, is that they are by no means gratuitous. They contribute to framing and establishing a succession of spaces defined by their qualities rather than their functions. With low and high ceilings, wide or narrow rooms, views of the horizon, interior patios or simply other interiors: there is always a surprising passage to be discovered. The kitchen is both in the living room and separate. The living room can be in the dining room and vice versa. Bedrooms retain their intimacy through secret vestibules which open contradictorily onto the more “public” areas. The house has an architecture that is not only made up of rooms, nor is it exactly a plan libre. It is a synthesis of both: a kind of raumplan, but not quite. It is a structural grid within which disruptions are organised. In any case, it is an ingenious multiplication of possibilities or what Czech would call the attitude of mannerism: “one of intellectuality, of consciousness; also, a sense of the irregular and the absurd, that breaks away from pre-established precepts”.3

Unfortunately, when we visited the house, what appeared to be the first scene of a production of the “Poor Rich Man” was taking place. A team of decorators was furnishing the house from one end to another in the latest soap-opera neo-bourgeois style. Defining precise functions and neutralising any sense of potential or possibility. As Loos wrote, “the only thing left for [the client] was to learn how to walk around in his own dead body”.4








(22)- Casa Lote 7, view from the steet.
(23), (24)- Casa em Rates: view from the street / view from one of the patios.



THE VERNACULAR AND THE ERUDITE ARE ONE AND THE SAME.

On the basis of Peschken’s “Temple and Democracy”, Philippe Villien has built a theoretical bridge between the vernacular architecture of granite granaries and the erudite architecture of Doric temples. His aim was to show that the leap between the two may have been made by transcription, rather than by rupture or innovation.5 According to this hypothesis, the Greek triglyphs would correspond to the traces of the granaries’ ventilation panels. Both Corinthian and Ionic capitals would be formal heirs to those ecological devices that protect crops from climbing insects, such as the protrusions that top the columns of Portuguese espigueiros. Not to mention, of course, the translation between the form of classical pediments and the simple need to drain rainwater from the roofs.

This perspective is particularly interesting as it unveils a potential nexus between utility and effect, functionalist reason and ornamental fruition. A similar understanding of this affinity was also patent, for instance, in Alison & Peter Smithson’s work illustrated in “Climate Register”.6 A small book presented their work, with an emphasis on the impact that climate devices played in both the technical rationality and the architectural grammar of their proposals. A look at the façades of ATELIERDACOSTA’s reveals the same kind of sensibility. Perhaps the case in which this tension is most illustrative is the (oversized) concrete cornice of “Casa Rates”, built on top of an ordinary slate wall. Cornices are a clear historical example of this superposition of utility and effect. In this case, a particularly sophisticated concrete element, which at first glance could have come from a nearby demolished monastery (as is the case of an existing Romanesque church capital), sits on top of an otherwise rudimentary construction. The fact that concrete fits into the existing cornerstones emphasises this ambiguity. The same goes for the geometric irregularity of its floor plan, which leaves us wondering what already existed and what has truly been added. And yet, be it a temple or a modest farmhouse, the mundane problem of preventing water from running down a façade is still an excellent pretext for crowning a building.

This desire to manipulate, exaggerate, or simply compose a façade out of the need for banal and utilitarian elements (which often conceded an undesirable role to architecture) is not exclusive to their “Casa Rates”. Take, for instance, “Lote 7”, where the high relief of a banal ETICS system draws a frieze around the whole house, emphasised over the windows in order to hide the house’s shading system. A frieze which is topped with an expressive concrete, coping to manage, once again, rainwater dripping. Or else, the importance of the blinds now visibly applied over the wooden façades of “Casa Gemeses”, where the weather blends with the concrete foundation, in a unified soft grey interrupted only by the most beautiful orange frames. Or even still, the projected concrete porticoes, which act as brise-soleils and structural support for the awnings that regulate the exposure of “Casa Artur” to sunlight. Through these operations, the milieu crystallises into matter and architecture reveals its ancestral relationship with a deep understanding of the word ecology.








(25)- Casa Artur, view from the street.
(26)- Casa César, view from the east.
(29)- Casa César, view of the stairs.



LEARNING TO THINK FROM THOSE WHO CAN MAKE

One of the misunderstandings on which architecture has been lying for centuries, particularly since the classical Renaissance, has to do with the promotion of a strict division between intellectual and manual labour on the building site; a process of abstraction that only seems to have accelerated since the advent of capitalism. As it goes, there are those in charge of design7 and those who execute what the former have imagined: however absurd these images may be from the producers’ point of view. Of course, our practical experience has taught us that the opposite is true and almost everyone involved in the construction process uses elementary drawings as a tool for thinking. Unlike bees or spiders, construction workers plan ahead in their heads, which, according to Marx’s wellknown formulation, indicates they are not so far from being architects themselves. Too often, the main difference is that the formers’ approaches to design are much more rational and supported by material reality than those of the latter.

Another dichotomy that restrains the progress of architectural thought is the socially constructed idea of the existence of a high and erudite culture, to which architecture belongs, as opposed to a lower, popular culture to which every other minor form of construction should be confined. On the contrary, the paradoxical position our generation finds itself in is that architecture seems to have finally reached out to classes that were excluded from it not so long ago. Both on the side of practitioners and commissioners, architecture no longer concerns only the classes with the most (economic or cultural) capital, nor the most underprivileged, to whom their philanthropic or utopian idealism has historically been addressed. This, of course, does not mean that everyone in these other intermediate classes has made it into architecture. In many cases, architecture is still perceived as nothing more than a bureaucratic procedure to be fulfilled, an inconvenience by decree. The ability to bring architecture to every corner of a city that seems to have become an infinite periphery depends on the ability to build intellectual bridges. The opposite is to adopt a condescending or patronising attitude, reducing clients to a bunch of ignorant people.

As we have previously argued regarding the work of FALA, we believe that these peripheries have been revealing the inventive spirit of their inhabitants for decades, for those willing to pay attention.8 Benefits come from making architectural design an intellectual apprenticeship for both parties. A perfect example of what we are trying to achieve is “Casa César”. Starting from a client’s preconception — “to build a stone house with a pitched roof” — the Atelier was forced to learn the economic and ecological relevance of this type of construction, even today, if considered from the subjective perspective of its local production. From the exterior, it is almost impossible to determine the era in which “Casa César” has been conceived. It’s even doubtful whether or not an architect was actually involved in its construction. Each element seems to reveal the sensibility of neo-popular architecture, such as the way rainwater is handled through a “beirado à portuguesa”. Although as soon as we take a closer look at the floor plans, we once again discover the same intellectual ambition and confidence in the spatial complexity of Baroque architecture.

In 1960, even before writing The Architecture of the City, Aldo Rossi was already concerned with “the problem of the periphery”9, as he considered it to be “the future of the city”10. If we take a look at the Portuguese landscape, it will be easy to see that he was not wrong about it. And yet, within the disciplinary field of architecture, especially from a practical point of view, little has been produced since in order to understand its structures and transform them in their most basic implications. In our opinion, ATELIERDACOSTA has already made significant contributions. After all, even the periphery needs its temples. And in this respect, ATELIERDACOSTA seems to have what it takes.



(1)- Herman Czech. “A Self-critique of Modernism” (1995), in Essays on Architecture and City Planning. Zurich: Park Books, 2019, p.218.
(2)- Ibid., p. 221.
(3)- Herman Czech. “Mannerism and Participation” (1977), in Essays on Architecture and City Planning. Park Books, 2019, p.123.
(4)- Adolf Loos, “Poor Rich Man” (1900), In Creating your home with style. Metroverlag, 2013, p.83.
(5)- Philippe Villien, “Le dorique bien tempéré”, in Marnes, vol.3, May 2014, pp.328-341.
(6)- Peter Salter & Peter Smithson, Climate Register: four works by Alison & Peter Smithson, Architectural Association, 1995.
(7)- Apropos, cf. Pier Vittorio Aureli, Architecture and Abstraction, The MIT Press, 2023.
(8)- João Paupério & Maria Rebelo, “Breves notas para uma teoria da prática do ordinário”, Punkto, #38, May 2023.
(9)- Aldo Rossi, “Il problema della periferia nella città moderna”, Scritti scelti sull’architettura e la città, Clip, 1957, p.112.
(10)- Aldo Rossi, “La città e la periferia”, Ibid, p.158.

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The language of a house1 - Doma magazine
Filipe Magalhães, Fala



Casa Crespo, model – view from the West


"Currently, architecture is always discussed in terms of articles of faith about the way the public and society in general should be. Proposed systems always attempt to provide a single plan for the whole of society, though the proponents of such systems are doubtless aware that no such thing is possible. Our generation, on the other hand, cannot be content with continuing to create one part of a vast ring that cannot be completely closed. We reject the idea of an image system that cannot cover the entire picture. This is true because, unable to close our eyes to the complexities and contradictions of society, we feel stripped and weak in the face of the necessity to gamble everything on a single ideal. Finishing materials, colour schemes, finish styles, and patterns comply with the owners’ wishes, no matter how vulgar. Once again, since the building is theirs, we have no say on the matter. We do not believe in the myth that designing a house changes the personality of its owners. The house is the battlefield where the client and I encounter each other. It is not a skillfully made parade of toy soldiers with a flag and a band at their head."2
"Unlike the artists or other prominent cultural figures who are the clients of architects whose works are often seen in the architectural journals, my clients are simply ordinary people. When they asked me to design their homes, it was apparent from the start that none of them wanted me to design a dwelling that would be a creative architectural “work”. So, the questions that preoccupy an architect, such as the form of the structure or the concept on which it is to be designed, never entered into our conversations. Since only the client’s concerns are put up for discussion, the designer is forced to proceed with the work, giving greater priority to the concerns of living than to abstract matters of artistic expression. These were projects that made me think that there was no room for introducing any such thing as theories of architecture. When I met the first client, he assumed an attitude of complete disinterest in any “theme” that might be the concern of the designer. I found myself wondering about the viability of imposing artistic qualities on an architectural work, and about the very merits of buildings designed as “works of art”. I found that there was no other way to proceed than to put a priori themes aside and to think in terms of the site where the design would actually be built. To choose such an approach, l realise, is to bring architecture down from the lofty realms of theory to the level of the act of designing. This is how I began to pursue my work in design, attempting to rethink the nature of architecture by viewing it from the dimension of event and accidental happening."3
"A design must not be based on arbitrary conditions, such as whether or not the site is beautiful, or whether it is broad or narrow. In other words, I mean that the design of a house should be based on an armature of ideas, independent of the shape and environment of the site. Also, a house must not be designed for the client. The architect must be free from the client. Whether or not the clients understand, whether or not the carpenters are excellent, all the good and bad aspects of house design should reflect the good and bad aspects of the architects themselves. And, from the moment construction is complete and the house is handed over, the architect has no right to speak. The family is free to use their house as it pleases, or even more beautifully than the architect intended. This alternation between disappointment and pleasure is only proof that the autonomy of house design is not owned by the architect but shifts to the client. You are free to live in a house as chaotic as you like, but if the scenes are unsatisfactory for publication in a magazine, the architect will rearrange things to suit his liking, choreographing them such that the residents ‘may not even toss in their sleep’. So, hypothetically, if a house is always disorderly, the spaces being choreographed may be described as completely fictional. But such fictions must be presented to society at large. Fictional spaces have a magnificent power and, unlike public buildings, it is especially necessary for houses to achieve sufficient fictional meaning. We should carry out our creative activities without worrying about methods of comparison with the real thing. The calibre of a work of architecture corresponds to the calibre of the fictional value structure from which it arises. I have claimed that a house is a work of art. Art lies in the ways that the design of a house may bond with society and, if it does not become a work of art, it has no reason to exist. Therefore, strengthening the reciprocal connection between house and society is not a secondary task. It is an obvious aspect of house design, and includes conveying it through mass media. So, for me, a fictional space is never fictional."4








(51)- Casa de Férias, ground floor plan.
(52)- Lote 7, ground floor plan.
(53)- Casa Artur, ground floor plan.
(54)- Casa Crespo, ground floor plan.
(55)- Casa César, ground floor plan.
(56)- Casa de Rates, ground floor plan.



"The architect is perhaps concerned only with the meaning-giving structure of architecture, that is, its rhetoric. Robert Venturi writes, “I try to talk about architecture rather than around it”. When we say that the architect is interested in “rhetoric”, we must recognise that this rhetoric is functionally different from the rhetoric of social meaning (ideology) that I have called the first language of a lived house. Through rhetoric, architecture creates new registers to be read. If people find new languages with many meanings in it, then that is as it should be."5
A few weeks ago, over dinner, me and Hugo were discussing how difficult it is to express our disciplinary concerns to those who we work for. Although our practices have different structures – and perhaps different desires –, we operate in the same circles, with overlapping anxieties. For a few hours, in a cathartic exercise, we happily criticised our context, cultural and economical, shared stories of common places, and ended up agreeing on the fact that, more often than not, we find ourselves being the only ones “who care”. Better still, we often find ourselves impersonating the madman, shouting alone to an absent audience. The conversation reminded me of the context of a generation of Japanese fallen heroes, that often recur within FALA, with reflective texts written at times when such authors were struggling with their careers and facing or theorising about similar struggles. One could suppose that, in a very different, but possibly not so different, context, cycles come to repeat.
Writing a text is like doing a project: you need some sort of an idea, or intellectual framework, to do it. It can’t, or at least shouldn’t, be purely compositional. A good text needs an angle, a direction, and requires that its final form respects and potentiates its intention. The structure doesn’t always work and sometimes it ends up disguised as a motif. In this case, to be clear, the hint was to appropriate some of the generational texts that the conversation reminded me of, and to manipulate them as primary matter. To remove from the declarations all references to their authors, time, and context and, while reorganising the appropriated bits and pieces, to claim them as mine, written today, as de facto statements. To take the opportunity to project my possible personal understanding of ATELIERDACOSTA condition through someone else’s gaze of a distant problem. To take a specific house in Vila do Conde as a model of a generational disciplinary enquiry. A collage, maybe; a fiction of our reality and despair, certainly.
I had the chance to first get to know Casa Crespo at a lecture ATELIERDACOSTA did in Lisbon a couple years ago. Amongst other projects, it was shown with scarce photographic materials, since it was still under construction; most of the available images were of a skeleton-like object, full of light, still rendering. Amongst the drawings, the Baroque plans fascinated me as they referred to an active and assumed use of history for contemporary production of architecture, something I believe the discipline should stand for. Between other hints and references, Borromini’s San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane’s plan was theirs, for a few minutes of conversation, and until life do us part, in the soon-to-be-built house. On another level, the house that was presented didn’t try to solve anything, to address any social concerns, to be political, to inflict anything, but to be a thing per se. That house approached architecture as I foolishly hope all houses could do. Regardless of its final form, it was a disciplinary exercise before being anything else. The outside shell, proto-modern and suburban – relatable –, defined a buffer to the world. Someone walking by would probably not notice it, reading it as another amongst many, camouflaged; yet, in such a threshold, the evident quality of its design was there, for the few who would be able to notice it. Inside, with no ornament, but through an ornamental understanding, it felt complex and neoclassical, even with all the walls plastered in white, flat, incomplete. A fortunate contradictory object, a la Venturi.
Recently, I had the opportunity to visit the house, to add the physical in situ experience to the fictional one I had assembled from its authors’ images and words. With the owners away, but the Koolhaasian maid doing her chores, we had about one hour to study the battlefield where Hugo and Diogo admitted defeat while talking about how they had to abandon the project close to the end, after “the architect was not necessary anymore”. The scars of the lost battle were all over the place, evident: Life with Objects, cliché nouveau riche, interior decorator bullshit propaganda at its prime. An absolute incapacity to read the spatial qualities by those who solicited them. Beyond the visual clutter, chirurgical changes that attacked the project’s intentions at their core revealed the stricken misunderstanding that the house represented.










(57)- Casa Artur, view from the street.
(58)- Casa Crespo, central space.
(59)- Casa Crespo, view from south.


Needless to say, when asked to write a text about a house, one could, and probably should, describe said house. Claim its merits. Have the courage to criticise it, negatively if necessary, with wit and intelligence. Put it in a certain context, be it political, social or economic, and make sense of it. To propose a theoretical understanding of it, even. However, this text doesn’t do any of that. And if anyone tries to read it from such a perspective, it will succumb. It is, quite literally, a collage of two antagonistic blocks: the first stolen and manipulated from fallen heroes, the second without structure or obvious goal. This text, like the house it supposedly reflects upon, is a composition, a difficult double, hiding its intentions in plain sight.
Within FALA, I like to discuss with Ahmed the fact that he still naively believes it is possible to always have one foot in both worlds (ours and the client’s) and achieve a satisfactory project for both. After so many downfalls in the battlefield, I cynically don’t believe it anymore, because to a certain degree I never did. The Venn diagram doesn’t overlap and very few exceptions, usually due indifference and / or circumstance, help to prove a rule, nothing more. Nevertheless, and despite the long distance between the words of the designers and interpretations of the inhabitants, Casa Crespo’s intellectual charm was there, untouched, unattackable: an exterior deconstructed shell protecting the gorgeous double- height octagonal space from the world. Not in a purely rhetorical manner, nor in a phenomenological sense, the house was a house. Full of trash, but frank. Maybe, as it was always meant to be.



(1)- Original title appropriated from: “the language of the house” Koji Taki, 1971.aken from: Tamami Iinuma, ‘Searching for the language of a house. Architectural photography of Koji Taki’s tokyo: house of architecture, 2020.
(2)- Original text appropriated from: “Primary house project” Mayumi Miyawaki, 1971. Taken from ‘The Japan architect, July 1971’ (edited, rearranged and manipulated by the author).
(3)- Original text appropriated from: “My work of the seventies” Itsuko Hasegawa, 1985. Taken from ‘Space design 04.1985’ (edited, rearranged and manipulated by the author).
(4)- Original text appropriated from: “The autonomy of house design”, Kazuo Shinohara, 1964. First published in ‘Kenchiku April 1964’. Taken from: Thomas Daniell, ‘An anatomy of influence’, Architectural Association, 2018 (edited, rearranged and manipulated by the author).
(5)- Original text appropriated from: “the language of the house” Koji Taki, 1971. Taken from: Tamami Iinuma, ‘Searching for the language of a house. Architectural photography of Koji Taki’, Tokyo: House of architecture, 2020 (edited, rearranged and manipulated by the author).

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Periaktoi para SCHULD




“Começa assim a mudança de sentido pela qual a culpa se torna dívida,(…) o espírito do dever místico do reembolso” (Peter Sloterdijk).
Um peso sobre um corpo. Que peso é esse – o do reembolso? Que corpo é esse – exposto à tácita e contemporânea autoexploração – insaciável, acumulador de culpa e dívida? Schuld, simultaneamente culpa e dívida em alemão, é ação física invisível e coletiva, destino pesado como manto que cobre todos os que não se entreguem à “subjetividade empreendedora”.
 
“Deixa o espinho/colhe a rosa/Tu vais procurar/a tua dor” (Benedetto Pamphili, Lascia la spina, cogli la rosa).



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Cenografia para “Martha”
estreado no Teatro Constantino Nery em Matosinhos

 
(equipa: Hugo Barros e Pedro Oliveira)




A partir de uma peça de Martha Graham, - “Lamentation”, à qual prestam de alguma forma tributo, Pedro Carvalho e Sara Garcia compõem um solo de dança, cujo único personagem se move invariavelmente em torno de uma cadeira (na peça de Graham era um banco).
O pedido inicial era claro, mas ia sendo ajustado nos ensaios, ainda realizados com uma qualquer cadeira que serviu como espécie de detector das incompatibilidades do seu desenho com o movimento que se pretendia desenrolar sobre ela. Uma cadeira que tivesse dois assentos e uma costa, dois sentares distintos, um com reclinação e apoio , à cota baixa, outro mais efémero e pontual, à cota alta . Esta demanda exigia um reforço da estrutura da cadeira, sem o qual o assento à cota alta, instalado sobre a costa do primeiro assento, poderia tornar-se demasiado instável, por se tratar de uma outra cadeira suspensa na mesma cadeira mas só ligada à primeira pela estrutura das costas. Essa dificuldade estrutural, juntamente com a observação do movimento dançado e o figurino dos clips de “Lamentation”, deram o mote para o desenho da cadeira e a sua disposição no espaço do palco.



 
 
 
O movimento era, em grande parte, lido pela (de)formação do figurino usado, uma espécie de túnica lilás elástica, dentro da qual a bailarina parece querer desconfinar-se, quebrando os limites espaciais aparentemente impostos pela roupagem, em vez de o serem pela flexibilidade muscular. Neste constante exercício plástico, lêem-se as linhas definidoras dos membros superiores e inferiores, apenas de um dos lados: o lado terminal para onde o tecido está a ser esticado. Ao contrário do habitual, vemos uma bailarina só com a definição do contorno exterior dos seus membros, tendo um aspecto quase líquido, invertebrado e animalesco, qual medusa, castrador da leitura estrutural do corpo, que é obtida só em momentos específicos da performance. Seria também uma túnica, neste caso carmim, que seria usada na peça a estrear. Dada a necessidade de reforço estrutural, propõe-se que a cadeira pudesse contrastar com a personagem e atribuir-lhe o protagonismo de grande mancha, ao ser dotada apenas com estrutura, de secção quadrangular e, suplementarmente a eixo, uma coluna vertebral de secção circular que suporta o segundo assento pedido. A cadeira, só vertebrada mas imóvel, pronta a receber o corpo movediço, líquido e instável, aumenta o seu sentido de profundidade e tridimensionalidade em palco, com a sua forma trapezóidal e as secções que diminuem da sua frente para o seu tardoz. Cenografia para “Discursos”, estreado no Teatro Municipal do Porto.

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2021 - 0MODELS_GRAZ_diskursiv.xyz
 




favorite material
  Foam

favorite scale
  1:1, but until we get there we try 1:100 and 1:20

favorite tool
  The cutter to freestyle the manipulation of the favourite material

favorite model
  One of the study models we keep, despite the storage limitations







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Exposição "ÁLVARO SIZA-90 anos"
na @note.galeriadearquitectura, em Lisboa.




Desenho/texto do @hugobarrosferreira "Siza, Rómulos e Remos". Curadoria de @bs_barbarasilva and Ana Sofia Pereira da Silva. 


  Gosto de Siza
  
  
  Gosto de Siza porque foi, para mim:
  primeiro vizinho - na rua das duas casas -
  a Alves dos Santos. ainda interiorizada -
  e a Beires - consta que a primeira que
  inflecte essa tendência -, primeiro 
  arquitecto da História da Arquitectura
  e primeira sereia encantatória
  
  Gosto de Siza alterado. com tijoleiras do
  Maxmat - Malagueira. São Vitor, Caxinas -
  porque mostra a potência intacta dos seus
  alçados, pensados, como diz o próprio,
  autonomamente de qualquer
  materialidade.
  
  Gosto que os textos de Siza sobre a sua
  obra sejam tão secos e a vejamos sempre
  tão poética. ao contrário do que se faz
  hoje.
  
  Não gosto que se esqueça de vez em
  quando de pôr o chapim.
  
  Siza é bom demais para o agora.



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O que mudavas no RGEU
4 caminhos teóricos - projectos de lei para a lei do projecto


Discussão de atelier
reescrito a partir da oralidade real10

I

  pessoa A: Malta, parece que temos de discutir o que deve ser o novo RGEU, divertido não?  
  pessoa B: Ui, nem sei por onde começar!
  pessoa C: POR MIM NEM HAVIA RGEU. 
  B: Como assim, não haver RGEU?
  C: então, não serve para nada, hoje está tudo na legislação própria de cada especialidade!
  A: Os revestimentos, acabamentos e coisas do género não, continuam a ser “arquitectura”! As dimensões mínimas dos espaços e dos fogos também!
  C: pois pois, e a reação ao fogo dos revestimentos, não defines em SCIE? 
  A: Certo, mas a SCIE não abrange todos os materiais, uma torneira ou um puxador, por exemplo. 
  B: Já nos estamos a desviar um bocado do cerne da questão, isso é muito construtivo e nunca vai aparecer numa lei...




Confissões de um infractor ligeiro11

 Sobre a questão “O que eliminaria do RGEU?”: não é difícil de ver que em boa parte é já um “tratado” em descrédito, pouco usado e, ainda pior, desconsiderado pelas entidades. Alguns exemplos soltos de que me lembro do nosso projecto da Casa de Férias, em Esposende:

Artigo 69º - o acesso aos quartos não é feito propriamente por um corredor. É, na verdade, por uma sala mais privada, usada como tal. Podemos chamá-lo corredor sobredimensionado mas, na realidade, funciona com espaço de estadia de pessoas. O quarto principal tem um espaço fundo que junta closet e área de dormir, sem qualquer divisão. O comprimento de ambos os espaços têm mais do dobro da largura, apesar de janelas nos dois lados opostos mais distantes, no caso da sala privada. No entanto, lá não cabe um círculo de diâmetro de 2,7 m. Apesar de não cumprirem à letra este artigo, o projecto foi aprovado e não parece haver problemas de salubridade. (ver imagem 5)

Artigo 65º - nesta área comum do piso térreo coloca-se o velho tema do pé direito para o qual há legislação muito dispersa. Tem 2,4 m em 70% da área térrea e 2,2 m no restante. (ver imagem 7)



Artigo 17º - este artigo tem muito a ver com a reflexão da conver sa acima transcrita. Posso confirmar que não fomos obter nenhum parecer prévio junto do LNEC dos materiais usados. Diria que madeira termo-tratada e outros encaixam na definição de novos mate riais, sujeitos a parecer técnico. (ver imagem 6)

Artigo 67º - todos conhecemos aquele amigo com um T1 que, por esta ou aquela razão, tem de estar registado como T0 ou estúdio. Este artigo e outros sobre as condições associadas a um fogo fecham por completo uma diversificação das tipologias habitacionais, no meadamente num habitar comum para cozinhar, trabalhar, conviver, associado à célula individual, em vez do triste T1 ou o actual muito precário aluguer de quartos (que tantos profissionais acabam por ocupar quando se mudam de cidade). Essa discussão, do advento de uma certa cultura de erimitismo urbano por necessidade e de como resolvê-lo espacialmente, obrigaria a rever o conceito de fogo e de propriedade horizontal. Contendo riscos, é algo que precisa de ser repensado se queremos agitar o marasmo actual da oferta tipológica.



II

 A: Se for um código da construção, pode não falar só de salubridade por via dos afastamentos, áreas e larguras mínimas - que em boa parte já estão contemplados noutras leis - mas também de como se construir com qualidade hoje. Não vos parece haver uma espécie de vazio de critério em relação a isso?
  B: Para mim deveria ser só uma espécie de lei geral da construção, falando das boas práticas, bastante genérico e não vinculativo.
  A: UMA CONSTITUIÇÃO da construção, mas, já agora, tirando as considerações estéticas do actual RGEU, é isso? 
  B: Exacto, algo assim.
  C: Mas se, à imagem da constituição, não for para aplicar, não serve de nada, será uma bela prosa. Continuo a achar que é possível “engavetar” tudo o que o RGEU actual tem na legislação própria de cada especialidade, muito complexificada desde 1951. Reparem que mesmo a largura de um corredor é hoje definida pelas acessibilidades. Na prática, a área de uma casa de banho e mesmo outros espaços estão totalmente condicionados pelo 163/2006. E o resto, da construção, é uma resposta específica que cada projectista, em cada projecto, tem de dar com as condições actuais de documentação dos materiais, etc. 
  A: Sim, em abstrato não me importava de ter um RGEU minimalista, a conter apenas aquelas coisas que, por lógica, não possam ser incluídas na legislação específica (que também precisa de uma grande arrumação e limpeza).




III

 A: Era importante exigir uma sistematização, para maior compreensão do que se está realmente a propor e a aplicar em cada material, de cada marca - a garantia não é suficiente e ficarmos reféns da marca não é caminho. A marca tem o monopólio do conhecimento construtivo do material mas depois, na articulação com outros materiais na obra, como é?  Não é suficiente a publicação nos sites próprios de cada uma, com parâmetros e possibilidades de aplicação díspares. Aplicamos um Mapalestic SMART ou um SIKA TOP - 107 SEAL ES e facilmente escapa que são ambas argamassas de impermeabilização bicomponente, que devem ser aplicadas nisto ou naquilo e fiscalizadas desta ou daquela forma. Já para não falar da miríade de subcategorias de produto ininteligíveis, se são só soluções mais baratas, vulgo piores, ou outra coisa qualquer.
  B: Estás a limitar muito os sistemas não certificados. Imagina um senhor que faça um excelente perpianho de base com tijolo maciço daí para cima, ligados por algum engenho próprio. Excluis da construção?
  A: Não, pelo contrário, inclur-se-iam esses materiais mais elementares e muito testados, podendo isso dar até aso a um maior uso após a “inscrição oficial”. A proposta visa ordenar esta selva fragmentária, que só encontro paralelo na vitrine dos iogurtes do supermercado: perco sempre imenso tempo a comparar e a escolher o que realmente quero! Seria um instrumento que obrigaria as marcas a enquadrarem-se e compararem-se com as demais, sem mitos comerciais ou publicitários. Há várias pistas muito operativas noutros países, porque já temos uma percentagem enorme de materiais com marca numa obra, faltam critérios de aplicação e responsabilização comuns. Todos estes temas estão muito ligados às lacunas enormes na formação que uma lei não pode resolver, claro. Mas é importante haver algo como uma entidade reguladora da construção, que agisse com base numa legislação robusta e coerente. O novo RGEU, se quiser ser útil, devia tomar uma direcção “MAIS CONSTRUTIVA” e suprir o vazio que temos na sistematização das soluções construtivas*. Pensem, era um descanso, eram logo cancelados os fenólicos e imitações para as fachadas, que começam a ganhar barriga e ficam com os parafusos zincados todos soltos. Claramente as fichas técnicas não chegam e os exemplos de outros países, França e Suiça à cabeça, são prova disso. 
  B: Hmmm, ok, esta conversa deu-me fome.


 * organizado por um instituto nacional, no caso português o LNEC seria o mais indica do aparentemente. Poderia também ser adequado como entidade reguladora, não co nhecemos em detalhe essa possibilidade.





IV

 A: Pode parecer absurdo, especulativo e significar um caminho menos óbvio para uma nova lei, mas há partes do actual RGEU que me recordam uma certa TRATADÍSTICA CLÁSSICA, pela forma quase absoluta como alguns artigos são escritos. Muitíssimo tardia em Portugal para organizar o advento de uma expansão da construção do séc. XX, sente-se que esta lei moderna e, em certa medida, modernista, procura preencher em definitivo um certo vazio doutrinal pós revivalismos fin de siècle. Logo, vai além das questões de salubridade, visa iluminar um caminho para os projectistas, tanto do ponto de vista construtivo, como do ponto de vista estílistico, reiterando as opções de materiais, tipos de cobertura, etc. É o tipo de empreitada que não é estranha aos Tratados de Alberti, Palladio, Serlio, entre outros. Aliás, sempre que vejo a nossa obra Casa César, parece-me saída da visão do RGEU, mas prometo que as coberturas inclinadas, os beirais à portuguesa, os alpendres, o perpianho, as chaminés e o reboco foram tudo pedidos do cliente que procuramos compor. Ao contrário, há obras, aparentemente mais racionais, como a Casa de Férias, que parecem distantes do vocabulário do RGEU, seja na configuração espacial ou na materialidade.






(1)- Yona Friedman, Structures Serving the Unpredictable, NAi Publishers, 1999.
(2)- Constituição da República Portuguesa, 1976.
(3)- Andrea Deplazes, Construir la Arquitectura, Gustavo Gili, 2010.
(4)- Andrea Palladio, Four Books Of Architecture, MIT Press, 1997 (capa original) e Leon Battista Alberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books, MIT Press, 1988 (capa original).
(5), (6), (7)- Casa de Férias, ATELIERDACOSTA, fotografia de Tiago Casanova.
(8)- Casa César, ATELIERDACOSTA, fotografia de ATELIERDACOSTA.
(9)- Vitrine de iogurtes em supermercado brasileiro e Prateleira de arquivo de catálo gos de materiais no ATELIERDACOSTA.
(10)- textos de Hugo Barros a partir da referida discussão de atelier.
(11)- texto de Hugo Barros.

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2022 - Exposition Graz_Colors_GRAZ diskursiv.xyz
 




favorite color
  Can’t say favorite colors, only color combinations, e.g: plain red, blue, green, yellow with raw textured materials

favorite surface
  Wood, even if always afraid to be more beautiful if left raw

favorite technique
  Brushes for the reason given above. With aqueous paint you still get the raw texture beneath

favorite colorful house
  Brummel House, Adolf Loos




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"A CRATERA"
(integrado na exposição "O que está de errado na (tua) casa?")




Dá-se a conhecer o projecto de remodelação dos dois pisos do atelierdacosta pelo registo fotográfico do tecto da sua cave - agora espaço de trabalho, antes de atendimento. Sobre a sua projecção, está desenhado o mobiliário actual e real, denunciando a acomodação do uso, mais ou menos espontâneo, ao único elemento organizador do espaço sem janelas: o tecto e o seu desenho da luz – seja artificial, seja natural, pela abertura de uma cratera na laje.
Antes do projecto, acumulavam-se, numa espécie de cartografia sintomática, desajuste e erro que instituíram (e instruíram) o projecto – já não havia margem para toda a inquietude das práticas do quotidiano sobre o espaço, sem recorrer a esse último expediente que é o projecto e a obra, reprogramadores da vida tal como ela já quer ser. O erro que é sintoma é rapidamente conversível, no projecto, em erro que é recurso, sobretudo se nos reportarmos à origem latina da palavra, e assim entendê-la como um dilema, um percurso contínuo e não linear de dúvida e experimentação, potencialmente errático; e, retomando a pergunta de partida, esta é uma maneira de a colocar que preferimos: talvez por sorrateiramente nos ilibar.
Sem nos apercebermos imediatamente, e sem a clareza exibida no conto dos Sapatos do Senhor Valéry1, discutíamos permanentemente dois conceitos aplicados ao quadro do habitar pre-existente e o imaginado: o de lógica e o de convenção. No habitar da casa, o seu desequilíbrio pode significar perturbação – que experimentámos e que pretendíamos que o projecto renegociasse. Com a cratera ainda em execução, ouvíamos constantemente: “este buraco vai ser para umas novas escadas, não vai?”; mas talvez estas tenham sido formulações de desejo travestidas de convenção, nostálgicas da anterior relação directa e à cota da rua com o núcleo de trabalho do atelier. Surgiam também os alertas para a lógica – sempre bastante generalistas e criadores de espécies de aforismos indiferentes às diversas nuances - com especial enfoque no espaço de trabalho que “deveria ser sempre aquele com mais luz natural”. Também nas decisões construtivas ouvíamos: “depois com reboco no topo das vigas cortadas e fica rematadinho, não é?”. Pois bem, também aí encontramos campo fértil para a subversão negociada e deixamo-las com o corte à vista, denunciando o acto produzido sobre a estrutura.
Evitando declarar tabula rasa da existência e o consequente desperdício, procurávamos não fazer um mero makeup dos espaços só para conseguir mais intimidade no trabalho, só para obter mais luz no atendimento ou maior desafogo na entrada, mas ultrapassar essas barreiras politicamente impostas pela convenção ou por uma lógica convencionada. Essencialmente, luz e matéria foram alvo de uma transformação operada pela cratera que desmontou a homogeneidade dos dois pisos – um homogeneamente escuro e outro homogeneamente iluminado – para gerar atributos mais complexos e heterogéneos, desdobradores das possibilidades de vida no espaço.





(1)- Tavares, Gonçalo M., A estranha Casa do Senhor Walser, in Pensar a Casa, Conferências da Casa, Associação Casa da Arquitectura, 2011

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