A work of architecture is often shaped through the relationship between those who will inhabit it and what already existed before. On this site, located in Santo Antônio de Lisboa, Florianópolis island, this bond reveals itself in an especially profound way, as a living memory cultivated over time, where the local flora, planted by one of the resident’s mother, remains as both an emotional and structural presence. Among these species, the juçara palm — Piná — stands out, giving the house its name and synthesizing this relationship.
At the same time, there was a desire for an architecture that would not rely on large glass planes to engage with its surroundings, but instead would find in introspection and solidity a more intimate form of connection with the garden. Thus, the project is composed through more enclosed volumes, where the relationship with the exterior occurs in a controlled manner, through precise openings, cuts, and passages.
The site’s conditions — such as its longitudinal slope, the preserved portion of the Atlantic Forest, and the solar orientation toward the north — were decisive in defining the program’s implantation. Access occurs from the lower level, where the garage takes shape as a volume of exposed concrete, almost as an extension of the ground itself. From there, a staircase leads to the main floor, where the social and service areas are located, along with a guest room conceived with an autonomous character. On the upper floor, the private areas are organized, including three bedrooms, a TV lounge, and an office.
The house initially appears as a solid block, closed toward the street and open toward the interior of the site. This volume is then fragmented into independent blocks, connected by a clearly defined circulation axis expressed in the massing. Shifted transversely, these autonomous cubes settle onto the terrain, adapting themselves to the topography.
In this way, the house does not seek to dissolve into the landscape, but rather to establish with it a relationship of harmonious contrast. Brick flooring runs continuously through the spaces, creating free and fluid paths that contrast with the rigidity of the volumes. Vegetation surrounds the project, touching it only through the moving shadows cast throughout the day. In the living room, a large suspended hammock beneath the double-height ceiling becomes a place for contemplating these openings — a light and playful gesture that tensions against the solidity of the architecture. External terraces are also attached to the blocks, like subtle appendices extending from them.
Casa Piná represents a pause in time: a refuge of order, silence, and tranquility amidst nature.