They say you’re never better served than by yourself—yet shoemakers are always the worst shod. An architect designing their own home inevitably borrows from both sayings. On one hand, I took greater risks, both in form and in substance. On the other, the house is, of course, not entirely finished. Technical and energy challenges, integration and construction constraints—this house reflects the very nature of my training as an architect-engineer.
I built my home on a sloping site. I began by drawing a square base, which I developed into a technical core (laundry room, built-in storage, WC, cloakroom, stairs). Around this central volume, a generous living space unfolds: an open kitchen connected to the dining room, and a living room.
“Formal minimalism rises to the upper floor, where it allows itself a bold gesture.”
The square geometry of the base and ground floor extends upward before projecting out toward the garden. This cantilever provides a covered terrace below and a one-way view onto the surrounding landscape from the master bedroom.
In the basement: a workshop, bicycle storage, an office (with an external window), a playroom, a guest bedroom, a boiler room, and additional storage complete the layout.
To work with the wooded site, I designed the house in synergy with the vegetation, creating dual access—both from above and below. To the south in particular, and to a lesser extent east and west, openings of varying sizes compete to frame unobstructed views of the valley. In contrast, the volume is more closed to the north.
The compact form of the house responds to budget constraints, but also serves a clear objective: low energy consumption. Compact spaces, quality materials, 25 cm of insulation, triple-glazed windows, and solar panels all contribute to making it a low-energy home.
While the ground structure relies on masonry and concrete, the envelope contrasts with vertically slatted cedar cladding, significantly lightening the building’s volumetry.
“The alternation of inert materials with wood creates a rhythm, while maintaining the restraint required for integrating new constructions into the village architecture.”
I chose to install a three-meter-high window frame despite the lack of guarantees for such dimensions. It’s the kind of decision one makes more easily for oneself than when acting on behalf of a client. More broadly, this project led me to reconnect with a certain willingness to take risks. The form of the house itself was also rather unconventional—but I was committed to it. And when the permit was finally granted, I found myself thinking I could have gone even further. Boldness and risk-taking are integral to the design process—especially when you are both the architect and the client.