The project emerges from a set-back ground condition, a shoreline stabilized by a compact mineral layer that resists frontal occupation. From this restraint rises a chapel whose main volume detaches and extends over the water. The initial gesture consists in elongating the concrete toward the void, suspending part of the volume above the aquatic surface.
The base remains embedded within the mass of the terrain, almost erased by the continuity of the concrete. The chapel extracts itself from this anchoring point to form a unified, enclosed, dense volume, pierced only by thin glass cuts. These cuts fragment light and introduce it in layered sequences.
The cantilever establishes a condition of instability. Beneath the chapel, water circulates and projects its movements onto the underside of the concrete. The building receives this activity without reflecting it; it transforms it into an internal vibration of matter. The immaculate concrete absorbs these variations and maintains a stable surface, contrasting with the mobility of the site.
Inside, no path is defined. The volume imposes a central stillness, interrupted only by the path of the sun. Light moves across the walls, marks zones of intensity, then fades. The chapel operates through successive temporalities rather than spatial organization.
The surroundings are left uncomposed. Isolated trees, dispersed vegetation, and the passage of birds introduce discontinuous events around the volume. Nothing fixes the gaze into a stable reading of the landscape.
The whole is grounded in a simple shift: a continuous mineral mass extended above the water, where the stability of concrete meets a moving surface that constantly reconfigures perception.