CASA IXTAPA:

 

WHITE SAND, BLUE SKIES AND THE HOUSE AND DOESN'T SPOIL THEM: ARCHITECT FERNANDO ROMERO BLENDS NATURE WITH MODERN MINIMALISM TO CREATE LIVING SPACES THAT DON'T OBSTRUCT THE BEAUTY OF THEIR SURROUNDING ECOSYSTEM. CASA IXTAPA, IN THE IDYLLIC MEXICAN RIVIERA TOWN BY THE SAME NAME, COMBINES FUNCTIONALITY AND AESTHETIC CREATIVITY TO ACHIEVE A PERFECT BALANCE WITH ITS ENVIRONMENT.

BY CHANTAL MARTINEAU

 

 

It's not everyday that you hear an architect say he wants to design a building "empty of information." Most draftsmen boast of how the structures they erect speak volumes. This is especially true of living spaces - they should communicate the personalities and lifestyles of their occupants, at the very least express a mood. Contrary to such popular notions of grandiosity, architect Fernando Romero set out to create a house that said nothing. In fact, he intended his celebrated Casa Ixtapa to feel like it was barely there.

     "We tried to do a project that reduces the presence of architecture," he says from his Mexico City office. "[We wanted to] amplify the presence of nature."

     The goal was to avoid upstaging the beautiful site on which the house is built. Instead, he wanted to frame the scenery, and to showcase it like a infinite painting. Consequently, the structure acts as a sort of museum or observatory to a pure, white-sand beach, speckled with palm trees, that opens out onto crystal blue waters. The US $6 million house, commissioned by a wealthy businessman to lodge his sizeable clan when they visit Ixtapa, sits in an idyllic setting: the average temperature hovers around a comfortable 80 degrees and is sun-drenched every day, even in the rainy season when brief showers burst forth from the skies at night.

     The Mexican Riviera town of Ixtapa-Zihuatanejo in Guerrero state, some 150 miles north of the more tourist-infested Acapulco, is like two resorts in one. Zihuatanejo, which means "place of women," is an old fishing village that retains an authentic look and feel today. By the 1970s, the town had gained such popularity for its picturesque setting and charming people that the federal tourism board proposed to develop it extensively to accommodate the increasing number of visitors. Hostile to the idea of drastically altering the appearance, the people of Zihuatanejo refused to allow the construction of highrise hotels that would obstruct the bay vista. In response, the federal tourism board opted to appropriate a vast coconut plantation nearby. Just four miles northwest of Zihuatanejo, the new resort was named Ixtapa, meaning "the white place" in reference to its white-sand beaches. Because it was planned for tourists who wish to avoid big-name destinations like Acapulco, Ixtapa has grown up into a world-class resort. Strict regulations with regard to the proportion and construction of commercial and residential buildings in the town have helped maintain the integrity of the landscape.

     The contract for Casa Ixtapa was won by Laboratorio de la Ciudad de Mexico (LCM), the small firm Romero founded in 1999. Construction regulations were the first issue he had to address. To blend with nature, structures in the region should use palmas (palm branches) for roofing, as in traditional local huts. In order to create the illusion of a thatched roof, Romero chose the solution used in many modern buildings in Ixtapa: a concrete roof painted in neutral tones to integrate it with the trees and gardens surrounding the residence. The house's layout places all individual living spaces upstairs in a way that converts the second floor into a loft apartment when only a few people are staying. The ground level features the impressive communal area: an ascetically minimalist dining and lounging space overlooking the pool. The thick, white walls of the wide-open room are empty, cavernous, almost primitive. The common room is a virtual blank slate, ready to cater to the needs of whatever members of the family happen to be visiting on a given weekend. A narrow path leads from this heart of the home, out the front and on to the private beach just 300ft away.

     Born in Mexico City in 1971, Romero graduated from Universidad Iberoamericana in 1995. He went on to apprentice under Enric Miralles in 1996, Jean Nouvel in 1997, and then spent three years working in the Netherlands with leading man of structural design Rem Koolhaas, whose unique ultramodern style the young architect has repeatedly been accused of mimicking. But Romero has developed his own distinctive style since launching LCM. His signature lies in the blending of nature and modernity to create a truly utopian aesthetic. Climate and other local conditions also influence his approach to design. Despite his buildings being characterized as organic, he wants to avoid being lumped in with most Mexican architects who tend toward the traditional.

     "I want to use rational, scientific solutions to translate the needs of clients," he explains. "I like clean, specific concepts."

     LCM is now working on a 34-story apartment complex in Mexico City. Romero says he enjoys big-scale projects as opposed to private living spaces because of the complexities involved, the interface with the environment. What appeals to him about working with individual homes is the question of human behavior. In the case of Casa Ixtapa, he dealt with the transient, perpetually shifting activity of its occupants. Completed in 2001, the residence features certain green design alternatives, such as natural ventilation and a water-sanitizing system. However, these practices are not the norm in Mexico. "Sustainable architecture is often an afterthought," says Romero. The country's economy is not equipped to cope with the high cost of overhauling existing buildings to be more energy efficient and new buildings are often deemed too expensive even without such facilities. The government hasn't yet launched any incentive programs to encourage the use of environmentally-friendly building strategies, seeing as federal edifices themselves don't pay for power and therefore don't exactly set a positive example. All things in due time.

     Romero's ambition is to redefine contemporary architecture and, in turn, contemporary society. Not always easy in a country ensconced in custom and lore. But Mexico, especially the capital, does not lack for innovation or an appetite for originality. Following the trails blazed by the country's fathers of modern architecture - Luis Barragan and, later, Ricardo Legorreta - Romero is weaving euro-savvy modernism and the natural simplicity of his homeland into a burgeoning vernacular. And people are taking note. Even if his buildings are meant to nonexistent.