Ahmedabad is predominantly dry, its fierce summer heat relieved briefly by the monsoon. It was here that a young family, with their daughter and parents, asked us to make a home amongst an existing landscape.
284 trees became the beginning of the architecture. The built form was carefully woven around them; foundations were hand-dug where necessary to preserve their roots. The trees consequently became the makers of courtyards, vistas and openings to the sky, transforming the house into a formless labyrinth of interconnected spaces.
Arrival is beneath a 16-metre, column-free canopy, a low, shaded threshold wrapped in pivoting timber louvers. Breezes pass through this filter towards the central courtyard, where an old Neem stands like a sculpture, nature announcing itself before the house does.
The architecture works quietly with Ahmedabad's climate. Massive rammed-earth walls, deep shade, planted courtyards, retractable glass walls and breathing timber screens allow the ground floor to open and close with the seasons. Timed misting brings humidity into the courts, where ferns, monsteras, philodendrons and palms create cool, green pockets within the house.
Above, the home wears a skin of Corten, its individual panels suspended away from the structure to create a ventilated veil. At the corners, perforated jaalis recall the celebrated Sidi Saiyyed Mosque, their patterns of branches casting moving shadows across the interiors. Giant agassis, sliding screens, insulation and reflective roofs complete a quiet choreography of shade, air and heat.
The warmth of the clients led us to design almost everything around them, furniture, mirrors, shelves, vanities and objects in brass and salvaged timber. The main stair is conceived like a stack of timber in a drying yard; its rosewood handrail, finished with bent cast-brass corners, becomes an object of time and touch.
Throughout, an extraordinary level of craftsmanship binds the house together. Much of the art was gifted by friends and family, adding another layer of memory to the architecture.
Five years of making left behind more than a house: meetings, mock-ups, discoveries, failures, friendships and the shared pleasure of building something together. Builders, carpenters, stone layers, metal smiths, polishers, gardeners, clients and architects became part of the same journey.
Named after their daughter, Diya the light that enlightens, the house is perhaps most aptly understood as a home where light, trees, craft and family will continue to write its story, long after we have left.
