The Dar To Residential Building was conceived as a dialogue between the private life of its inhabitants and the public pulse of its immediate surroundings.
Located directly opposite a neighborhood mosque and adjacent to several commercial units, the site sits on a line of constant movement — a space where visibility, sound, and proximity shape everyday experience.
The project therefore, began with a question: How can architecture offer privacy and protection without turning its back on life outside?
When the project was first commissioned, its structural skeleton had already been completed.
This constraint became the core of the design approach, forcing the architects to work within a predetermined frame while still pursuing coherence and spatial quality.
Rather than treating the existing structure as a limitation, the design used it as an opportunity to explore a new language of mediation — a way to redefine the relationship between interior life and the surrounding urban rhythm.
The result is a dual-layered architecture: an outer skin that guards, and an inner one that breathes.
The outer layer is restrained, solid, and protective — reducing direct openings toward the busy street to ensure seclusion from the constant flow of pedestrians.
Behind it, the inner layer unfolds with greater permeability, allowing daylight, air, and shadow to move freely through the interiors.
Together, these layers form a living membrane, turning the façade from a rigid boundary into a space of transition — an interface between domestic quiet and urban motion.
This interplay is not only visual but spatial.
Where the outer shell retreats, pockets of greenery and semi-open courtyards emerge, softening the line between home and street.
These small gardens and terraces act as breathing spaces — architectural pauses that reconnect residents to light and nature while preserving their intimacy.
The extension of the outer skin into the depth of the plan blurs the distinction between exterior and interior, creating a continuum of thresholds rather than a clear divide.
Material expression reinforces this duality.
The exterior surfaces, finished in muted tones and subtle textures, evoke a sense of stillness and protection, while the inner façades open up to warmth, light, and air.
As the sun moves across the day, light passes through the layered structure, casting shifting shadows on the walls and floors — an ever-changing choreography of openness and concealment.
The architecture thus becomes a vessel for time: its atmosphere transforms with each hour, balancing exposure and retreat.
The adaptive reuse of the existing structure was as much a conceptual act as a technical one.
Instead of concealing its inherited framework, the design accepts it — allowing the fixed rhythm of the columns and slabs to interact with new layers of articulation, screens, and voids.
This negotiation between what was given and what was added defines the project’s identity.
The building does not erase its past; it absorbs it, reinterpreting it through the lens of human experience.
In the end, Dar To is less about enclosure and more about exchange — a choreography of proximity, distance, and transparency.
It transforms a rigid concrete frame into a living organism that breathes with its environment.
Privacy here is not isolation; it is a carefully designed equilibrium — a form of quiet engagement with the world beyond its walls.