10.05.2024, Marie
What about it? The plot on which we're building our house is quite small and steep. At the lower part of the plot stands a non-functional transformer station, which isn't historically significant and is positioned rather illogically, diagonally, like a discarded giant sugar cube. Therefore, our initial thoughts leaned towards demolishing it. However, its fate doesn't look as tragic now as it might have seemed at first.
Friends often asked us what it's like when two architects design a house. We had the design figured out in no time. We quickly named motifs from places we love. We know very well what we need and, more importantly, what we don't need. But the transformer station posed the most intrigue. This white cube has massive concrete foundations, solid brick perimeter walls, so demolishing it would be quite unnecessary and expensive. We considered various options from demolition, reconstruction into a rentable tiny house, bike and ski storage, a future refuge for parents, to the option of living in the transformer station ourselves until the new house is built.
We have everything drawn on paper and have thoroughly explored different scenarios. This preparation for our own home is probably the most demanding and enjoyable. Opening up the palette of our future life, yet not clinging too tightly to anything. Meanwhile, we've developed a relationship with the transformer station. It's like a tick on Dorka's fur coat that we've grown accustomed to.
So, we'll fix it up! My dad takes it the worst; he'd prefer to blow the tick up with dynamite and build something "sturdier" and, above all, not so skewed in its place on the plot. But we like it that way. Architects prefer to solve a problem rather than remove it. It's the right thing to do—economical, ecological, and logical.
The transformer station will serve as a workspace and accommodation for all visitors who won't feel like going home after dinner at Dorka's. It will be accessible through a large French window. We'll hang some paintings on the wall that we received from friends at our wedding or my Bianchi road bike. After all, it's better to look at it than ride it. The facade will be made of fire-burnt wood, and on the roof, which will be accessible via a narrow bridge, we'll place a small garden accessible from the upper level of the garden. Whether it's herbs or currants, I'm really looking forward to it. So, I just hope that over time, my dad will come to appreciate the transformer station, and we won't fear finding only smoldering rubble from an explosive blast instead of a garden cottage upon returning home every time.