BM Cabana

Awhile back we were asked by one of our friends to propose an intervention to the back of his house.

There were series of concrete structures standing tall and proud in semi rectangular alignment. It was clear that the deterioration of the structures had begun, and the function they were intended to fulfil was secondary to the immediate needs of the main house to expand into this zone.

Standing there, in front of these concrete pillars, the information they shared was understood, their history was understood. One could sense communication, an ongoing conversation amongst each other and the house.

The rest of the house looked like any other suburban house, it was a result of a copy-paste culture that reigned supreme for many year after Kosova’s war, a pursuit for an American-styled house in an international village. The interior was well dressed, our friend had chosen a tasteful palette of stones and woods, art and furniture, but the space felt frustrated, pent up with energy that had nowhere to go.

Today, the pillars live on. Left abandoned, and awaiting their fate, the protectors of the story needed protecting.

There were minor interventions, for example, the thick concrete walls of the existing house were dividing blocks that had to be removed and replaced with glass sliding doors in order for the outdoor natural energy to be welcomed inside. The space and energy were conserved and utilised to recharge its inhabitants, and anyone else that is fortunate enough to experience this space.

Do we interrupt their dialogue, and end it there? They huddled in the garden, as if shielding something sacred, each with their own story to tell.

Demolition of these under-utilised structures would have been the answer in most cases, but time was needed to listen and shift into silence so to move beyond the chaos of thought and to be present, surrounded by concrete pillars in order to understand that the soul of the house was there.