Family House Vrchlabí

I remember the moment when we saw that place for the first time. We were surprised by its exposure. The endless meadow hung over the rooftops like a great wave. When you drive through that town, you see it again and again. At that time, there was a yellow house, I remember it well.
I think it was spring, low, warm clouds were flying from the east, casting shadows on the tall grass. Everything moved and danced in the wind, the light flickered, and the house along with the meadows looked abandoned.
In a few weeks, the yellow house disappeared, leaving behind a pile of beams and stones and the smell of damp debris. We were saddened because it was one of the last original houses in that part of the town... it was enormous, it actually felt almost unnatural and inappropriate; its scale was so different, larger than everything that had been built there in recent years... Because this was a real farm, a house with a barn and a stable and everything under one roof. Here, people slept and worked, lived and died.

On the site of that house, slightly shifted and aligned to the contour, a new house now stands. It is actually about the same size as the original, we just changed the proportions. It no longer stands out so much, rather the opposite. We tried to hide it. The horizontal of calm. The roof of the house has a low slope, so it is not visible when viewed from the town.

We divided it into two parts. The first is dark, clad in boards, just like the barns or sheds or doors into them used to be. It has a garage and plenty of space for things and eventually even an apartment for guests. Because an older couple, a gentleman and a lady, live in the house, and their children and grandchildren are often here.
This part is slightly rotated. That is so we could orient the entrance and driveway towards the access road head-on. And to break up that long line. To disrupt the perspective that is there, which is too strong. By doing this, we also create more spaces. The garden area. The entrance space all the way at the back. A sort of narrowing arcade.

The second part is long, bright, and open. The house. As you walk through it, the light changes just like in that first memory. In the middle of the layout is a large room, a space open on both sides. Perhaps a living room, maybe the heart of the house. Towards the slope, there is shade, and in the summer, coolness and calm. And across from that is a large window. A stage for the world. As you get closer, the edge of the horizon drops away and suddenly you stand above the town. And that is enough. Sometimes you can see the Orlické Mountains from here, maybe even the Jeseníky...
Here is a gallery reminiscent of a porch. It runs under the roof overhang along the entire house and bends around the corner, toward the bedrooms. Its edge disappears into the grass.

There is the last part of the house, intimate. One of the bedrooms is open to the town, but even more embedded in the arcade; the other, the lady's bedroom, has its own little nook - a couple of old apple trees, old and beautiful, we all wished they would survive.

A few days ago, I had a dream; it was a brief image. We were sitting on the porch with the owner, no one said anything, and we just looked over the town somewhere into the distance. There was nothing more to add. And I hadn't felt so good in a long time.