Pivot
On the urban edge of Pordenone, where architecture holds layers of time, a structure born as a 19th-century rectory and later expanded after the war is realigned with the present without erasing its memory. The new wooden volume, wrapped in a skin of extruded aluminum and resting on a concrete base, does not seek mimicry: it stands apart in order to engage in dialogue.
Inside, custom furniture organizes daily life through an opposite gesture—silent, connective, capable of making the past and the new work together.
Outside, the project asserts itself: matter, color, and form declare the intervention as a conscious layer—a contemporary echo of the Friulian stavolo. Inside, the project subtracts: built-in furniture is not décor but domestic infrastructure; it orders movement, frames views, and stitches functions together without breaking spatial continuity.
This duality is not a paradox but a method: to stand out in order to belong, to separate in order to converse. The exterior constructs recognizability; the interior translates that recognizability into inhabitable measure.
The theme is not “opening windows,” but translating environmental qualities—light, air, material, rhythm. Controlled openings and deep thresholds transform the landscape into an operative backdrop for the rooms; furniture surfaces become frames capturing fragments of sky and greenery, bringing the outside into the visual and acoustic field of everyday life. Interior surfaces, warm and matte, slow down light to make it useful; thickened thresholds act as air chambers, modulating climate and perception. Thus, the house breathes with the outdoors without exposing its intimacy.
Conceived beneath the existing architecture, the furniture integrates storage, seating, passages, and worktops. It is a system rather than an object: it defines spaces and keeps them in relation, aligning practices—cooking, reading, listening, conversing—and introducing pauses that allow different gestures to coexist. Continuity is both visual and tactile: it is felt in the way the body finds support, light glides across surfaces, and sound is absorbed without any visible devices.
Outside: an added body that declares the present and opens a conversation with history.
Inside: a discreet choreography that renews the existing without overpowering it.
Not an expansion in quantity, but an interpretation in precision—layering without erasing, transforming without interrupting, projecting toward the future while holding meaning still.