Architecture

Nurtured by Nature: Site-Specific Architecture

Not all buildings have to tower over the land on which they sit; some are integrated into their natural surroundings to stunning effect

The home has been built as a continuation of the landscape,” says Maria Gryllaki, of Aloni, on the Greek island of Antiparos. “I’ve rarely seen a property so well integrated with its surroundings. The color of the exterior – similar to the earth – the materials used, and the architecture itself create a feeling that it has always been there.”

Built by decaArchitecture, Aloni successfully blurs the lines between building and landscape, allowing the house to blend in with the rugged terrain of the Greek island of Antiparos. Photograph: Michael Branthwaite. Banner: Larch-detailed guesthouses feature in this unobtrusive hotel in rural Norway by Jensen & Skodvin.
Built by decaArchitecture, Aloni successfully blurs the lines between building and landscape, allowing the house to blend in with the rugged terrain of the Greek island of Antiparos. Photograph: Michael Branthwaite. Banner: Larch-detailed guesthouses feature in this unobtrusive hotel in rural Norway by Jensen & Skodvin.
The property, which Gryllaki, of Ploumis Sotiropoulos Real Estate – an affiliate of Christie’s International Real Estate – is currently marketing, is the work of Athens-based decaArchitecture, and a contemporary example of site-embracing architecture: a style of building that can trace its origins back to early man, via architectural masters such as Frank Lloyd Wright.

“Organic buildings are the strength and lightness of the spiders’ spinning. Buildings qualified by light, bred by native character to environment – married to the ground,” said Wright, whose famous cantilevered Fallingwater, which “cascades” over the waterfall on which it was built, is as embedded in the landscape as its image is in the minds of enthusiasts.

Properties like Aloni and Fallingwater, which merge with the landscape – incorporate its material, emulate its form, atmosphere, or history, and appear to have grown from the ground – offer a stunning alternative to today’s towering high-rises and expansive “starchitecture,” which, standing out in stark contrast to their environments, appear to have landed from another planet.

Offering protection from the elements, environmental benefits, and a deep connection to nature, architecture that integrates into the landscape dates back thousands of years. Cave and cliff dwellings were some of the earliest examples. In places like Granada in Spain, Matera in Italy, and the Shanxi Province of China, these site-embracing spaces continue to be occupied or have, in recent years, come back on to the scene in more modern iterations.

Along with Fallingwater, the exquisite evolution of site-embracing architecture in modern times resulted in such iconic examples as Eileen Gray’s e.1027 house in the south of France, and John Lautner’s Elrod House in Palm Springs, California.

Not all buildings have to tower over the land on which they sit; some are integrated into their natural surroundings to stunning effect
Completed in 1929 and built by the Irish designer for her and then lover Jean Badovici, e.1027 (the name is a code derived from a combination of their initials) was built directly into the terrain just above the Bay of Monaco, and was designed to give the couple a direct relationship to nature. As Friends of e.1027, a non-profit organization dedicated to the home’s preservation, explains: “Wishing to build a house that interacted with the natural elements surrounding it, [Gray] carefully studied the wind and the angles of the sun at different times of the day and year, and in this way was able to build a structure with a constant, evolving relationship with the sun, the wind, and the sea.”

Built for interior designer Arthur Elrod, and completed in 1968, Lautner’s Elrod House is defined by its massive concrete domed roof – designed to provide shade from the desert sun. Set into a hillside, the sculptural home literally incorporates the landscape, integrating rock exposed during the excavation into the interior.

“I like the idea of the caveman analogy, where you go back into the cave and it’s dark and you’re one with the earth, then you go to the edge and you look out over the landscape,” says Jim Olson, founding architect of Seattle-based firm Olson Kundig. The creator of stunning site-embracing properties, Olson is speaking specifically of what is another classic example: his Earth House, also built in 1968 when Olson was in his 20s. Commissioned by a former ambassador to Iceland who wished to emulate the vernacular sod-roof houses found around Reykjavik, the home in Washington state – carved into a hill and featuring a grass-topped platform roof – all but disappears into the landscape.

Cut into the hillside and featuring a planted roof, Jim Olson’s design for the Earth House recalls the historic sod-roof houses around Reykjavik in Iceland. Photograph: Mary Randlett/Olson Kundig
Cut into the hillside and featuring a planted roof, Jim Olson’s design for the Earth House recalls the historic sod-roof houses around Reykjavik in Iceland. Photograph: Mary Randlett/Olson Kundig
Today, leading the firm with Tom Kundig and three other owners, Olson emphasizes that designing architecture that is integrated into its surroundings is about working with the landscape, rather than against it. “We should all strive to be good stewards of the earth,” he says. “By taking inspiration from a given context and learning what it has to offer, we can work with a site’s natural attributes – such as topography, wind, sun, shade, rain, and more – rather than fighting against them.”

Rock star retreat
Completed in 2010 and designed by Kundig, the firm’s Pierre house, on the 
San Juan Islands, Washington, was inspired by the large rock outcropping found on the site and favored by the owner. Described as a “retreat nestled into the rock,” the art- and antique-filled home is so deeply embedded into the site that it looks a part of the landscape. Rock hugs the exterior, the roof is topped by greenery, and foliage surrounds it. Inside, various interior elements were carved from stone and crushed rock was incorporated into the flooring.

Inspired by a stone outcropping on the San Juan Islands site in Washington state, the greenery-topped roof and rock-strewn exterior of The Pierre help it to almost disappear into the surrounding landscape. Photograph: Benjamin Benschneider/Olson Kundig
Inspired by a stone outcropping on the San Juan Islands site in Washington state, the greenery-topped roof and rock-strewn exterior of The Pierre help it to almost disappear into the surrounding landscape. Photograph: Benjamin Benschneider/Olson Kundig
Kundig says the challenge is understanding each place, including its materials. With The Pierre, that meant recognizing that the rock could fracture mid build – an understanding that came in handy when a room had to be flipped, as the team was already prepared to accept potential design changes as a consequence. Yet, this part of the process is also part of the pleasure. “I like to spend time getting to know the site,” he says. “The goal for the architecture is to help reveal and unfold the site, to frame the site and its aspect.”

Materials sourced from the surroundings and a design adapted to the culture and climate help to achieve beautiful, appropriate architecture – Max Pritchard

When conceiving Southern Ocean Lodge – a stunning luxury hotel on Australia’s Kangaroo Island – architect Max Pritchard, of South Australia-based firm Max Pritchard Gunner, not only embraced getting to know the site, he also used the experience to inform the design.

“My client and I spent days walking the site, understanding the uniqueness of all the areas. We formed a little pathway through the bushes to the future location of the great room,” says Pritchard. “Our aim then was to secure this same sense of arrival in our design – in effect, a bushwalk surprisingly opening out to a magnificent sea vista.”

Locally sourced materials and a design sympathetic to both climate and culture help ensure luxury hotel the Southern Ocean Lodge fits seamlessly into its island landscape. Photograph: George Apostolidis
Locally sourced materials and a design sympathetic to both climate and culture help ensure luxury hotel the Southern Ocean Lodge fits seamlessly into its island landscape. Photograph: George Apostolidis
Set just behind a 130-foot-high cliff face, the property follows the slope of the land with its 21 guest rooms that sweep across the landscape and reflect the waves of the Southern Ocean with alternating curved roofs. Materials and construction techniques were carefully selected to leave the landscape largely undisturbed.

Along with local limestone used to build a 328-foot sculptural anchoring wall, the majority of the materials were carried in by hand. “Materials sourced from the surroundings and a design adapted to the culture and climate help to achieve beautiful, appropriate architecture,” says Pritchard.

Award winners
Located in northwest Norway in a remote setting of trees, rock, moss, and mountain
, the Juvet Landscape Hotel (featured in the Oscar®-winning movie Ex Machina) is another stunning example of a retreat that’s deeply connected to its environment. Designed by Oslo-based Jensen & Skodvin, individual guesthouses with dark-wood exteriors and at least one fully glazed façade blur the lines between inside and out.

Not all buildings have to tower over the land on which they sit; some are integrated into their natural surroundings to stunning effect
In the UK, the winner of the 2015 RIBA House of the Year Award, Flint House, designed by London-based practice Skene Catling de la Peña, uses material, color, geology, form, and function to bind building to site. Located on the Rothschild Waddesdon Manor estate, the ethereal, sloping home and its annex studio – appearing “pulled from the landscape as geological extrusions” – were designed to make visible the site’s geological origins.

“We’re interested in the way that architecture can be a powerful lens that intensifies the experience of the context; that can even make the invisible visible,” says co-founding architect Charlotte Skene Catling. “This allows the qualities of the site to resonate and take on a tangible, inhabitable form. The boundary between buildings and their surroundings becomes blurred, and ideally they can make one see, understand, and experience the context more consciously.”

We’re interested in the way architecture can be a powerful lens that intensifies the experience of the context; that can make the invisible visible – Charlotte Skene Catling

Made from flint, the ancient material that is found on the surface of the site and only in the area where a chalk fault line runs, the home’s color gradations move from dark to light, blending the home into earth and sky.

These site-embracing properties prove the benefits of adapting building to site, rather than adapting site to building. “The rewards are the creation of a completely unique project, enriched by its surroundings with a very specific sense of context,” says Skene Catling.

Over time the properties grow further into the space and become a part of it. “Buildings become more beautiful with age,” says Kundig. “As they weather, they slowly merge with the landscape – this is an important part of the design. I try to design with the future in mind – knowing that the ultimate success of a house or a building is how it is able to adapt to future needs and for future generations.”