What were you starting with when it came to this project, Ismael?
The apartment had been in the client's possession for some time, but I don't think they were living there. It was a highly compartmentalised space typical of its time, a sequence of small, enclosed rooms organised around a narrow hallway, with very little connection to each other, or exposure to natural light. The infrastructure was also ageing: the installations were outdated, the surfaces showed signs of wear, and the spaces were very inflexible.
What was your brief? Were there specific desires in relation to colour and materiality or did this direction come from you?
The clients envisioned a space not only for themselves, but also as a place their extended families could enjoy when visiting. While they requested specific functional elements, such as ample storage and a guest toilet, they gave us a remarkable degree of freedom when it came to spatial strategies, materiality and colour. It was a deeply collaborative process, grounded in open dialogue about how architecture could facilitate, rather than dictate, their way of living. They were enthusiastic about exploring unexpected textures and bold colours, and were genuinely open to experimental approaches. From the outset, there was also a shared commitment to selecting sustainable materials and reducing the renovation's environmental footprint wherever possible.
Which features of the space underwent the most drastic changes?
I would definitely say the apartment's spatial configuration. We removed some of the original partitions, introduced a radial 175 degree curved wall, and created a large multifunctional foyer. The kitchen was also reconceptualised to further enhance the apartment's flow and functionality. Overall, I would say that these changes have redefined how the space is experienced.
How have Spain's housing typologies and approaches to residential architecture changed more broadly since the building was erected in 1966?
In 1966, housing in Spain was still profoundly shaped by post-war scarcity, the need for efficiency, and mechanisms of social control. Residential layouts often featured private, domestic spaces and favoured small, compartmentalised rooms, and long corridors. Today, contemporary housing increasingly embraces openness, flexibility and hybrid layouts, reflecting a more diverse, interconnected, and dynamic society.
One of the apartment's most striking features is the central, curved green wall and its sandstone threshold. What inspired these elements?
The curve emerged from a desire to amplify the space and to challenge the rigid boundaries of traditional rooms while responding to the client's needs. The sandstone threshold, instead of simply dividing spaces, creates a fluid connection between them. Its form – irregular and intrinsically tied to the material's extraction methods, reduces post-processing and champions a more sustainable, ecological approach. The layers of the stone also accentuate the passage of time, transforming the threshold into an active part of daily life. I think it's about rethinking boundaries, not just as physical limits, but as moments of transition that shape both our interactions and the environments we inhabit.
Tell us about the theoretical research you've conducted into storage systems and how you implemented your research and findings into the design of this project…
My exploration into storage systems revealed that storage is not a static or secondary function but a vibrant, evolving infrastructure that weaves together the domestic, the urban and the political. Traditionally, storage was pushed to the leftover spaces of the home where the act of storing was rendered invisible – detached from the pulse of daily life.
Today, however, storage disperses and spills beyond the walls of the house where closets, pantries and cabinets are no longer silent containers; they can become active agents – tools that reconfigure the domestic as a space of negotiation.
In this project, storage does not hide, it occupies centre stage. The radial wall unfolds to accommodate storage space, whilst erasing the rigid separations between rooms and their functions. For me, it's as if the wall breathes: adapting to shifting needs, welcoming unexpected and dynamic uses. Rather than containing life, this project's storage enables its flourishing, making visible the political and dynamic negotiations that shape contemporary living.






















