“My house is my refuge – an emotional piece of architecture, not a cold piece of convenience,” wrote Mexican architect Luis Barragán in 1948. I first read these words at university and, following graduation, they stuck with me as I set out to create a home. I’ve now spent the better part of a decade trying to inject some of myself – my own emotions – into the various residences I’ve called home.
These places have been furnished with the colourful painting of an eagle that my partner and I picked up at a street-facing gallery in Amsterdam, a Renzo Piano sketch of the Centre Pompidou gifted to me while I was reporting on his work and Zig Zag chairs of questionable provenance purchased from a quirky Dutchman in Surrey. The stories attached to each of these pieces elicit strong emotions: feelings of love, pride in one’s work and a sense of adventure, respectively. But in reporting for Monocle’s November design-special magazine, I realised that I’d missed Barragán’s tip: the idea that the architecture should be emotive and not just the furniture and objects within it.
Image: Elizabeth Carababas
Image: Elizabeth Carababas
It’s something I’ve since addressed – or rather researched – through our reportage. In a world where we seem to be trending towards aesthetic sameness (visit any new development from Stockholm to Sydney and you’ll see the same colourfully-clad, mid-rise, mixed-use buildings), picking a home that is bold in its ambition seems to be key. Whether it’s a city-centre apartment that’s light-filled despite its compact footprint or a sprawling country estate that’s positioned to frame views of rolling landscapes, living in architecture that seeks to uplift and enhance one’s way of life can improve our wellbeing and nurture personal growth. Architecture of such ambition should be protected and celebrated.
Take the residents of the Mar Vista Tract (see ‘The Project’ below, and the full story in Monocle’sNovember issue). Inspired by their compact houses and united by a shared appreciation for how the architecture encourages a lifestyle built around community, these neighbours have banded together to form heritage-protection groups. Such is the love for their four walls that the Mar Vista crew won’t even sell, despite gargantuan offers. It’s proof, if proof were needed, that architecture does not simply provide a vehicle for living. For when architecture connects with its inhabitant's ambitions, it can elicit powerful emotions, such as pride, happiness and a fulfilment.
Nic Monisse is Monocle’s design editor. For more insights into the world of design, check out Monocle’sNovember issue, available online or on newsstands.