Category: Design

Earlier this month, the Architect’s Journal asked me to write a short piece on my life drawing with Architecture LGBT and I’m delighted to expand on this to highlight a few key influences and ideas.

In day-to-day practice, drawings are endlessly revised and reissued—precise and technical. They are a tool for communication and are relied upon to provide instructions for builders. Yet it is easy to lose sight of other types of drawing. Types that are more personal and act as an intimate means of thinking.

I try to practice life drawing as much as possible, to facilitate broader observation and drawing skills. These drawings tend to be fast-paced and try not to depict the sitter accurately: linear perspective is not primary. Siza’s Self Portrait (as shown above) displays the power of breaking away from accuracy for accuracy’s sake. The flatness of the mirror and the height of the subject’s reflection in the mirror give compositional richness and heightened drama. The inclusion of the hand drawing establishes a playful dialogue between the artist and viewer. Siza’s body is broken down into two sets of feet, a head and shoulders, and a drawing/drawn hand, with the viewer left to reconstruct the sitter themselves.

Schiele’s Zeichnungen IV (above) similarly leaves parts of the sitter removed (this time just the head) and this both causes a dramatic composition and allows the viewer to focus on formal qualities such as line and space rather than the personality of the sitter. It is a drawing of analysis. In all my drawings, I never depict the body as a unified whole, I always want to achieve a dramatic charge as strong as that of Siza or Schiele.

The thin line weights of many of Hockney’s drawings including Portrait of Cavafy II, put further emphasis on composition and how space is enclosed. There is a similar flatness to Siza’s drawings and the subject and background are a continuum. This is particularly evident where the car in the midground meet the lapel of the subject’s blazer. The artist that takes this dissolution to the strongest degree is Frank Auerbach. Ruth Ishows how bold marks can combine to produce a subject just on the verge of being present. Merleau-Ponty’s phenomenological philosophy, emphasizes perception as an embodied experience. It is not passive but actively involves the whole body in shaping our understanding of the world: drawing becomes a physical dialogue between the artist, the medium, and the subject—an intimate interplay of perception and bodily action. For these artists of the 20th century, I would suggest the act of drawing prioritizes visceral, sensory encounters, communicating through tactile immediacy rather than narrative clarity.

Some of my drawings use loose marks as a way of dissolving the sitter and the background into an ambiguous field. I like to give the shadows the same importance to make the drawing hard to read.

The viewer has to spend time working through the drawing and hopefully it gives a new way of seeing bodies in space: people are always situated in a context and relate to objects: another life drawer’s shoe, a wine glass, and a column. My limitation to three colours and never erasing hopefully captures the spontaneous process of how a drawing is made: there is an energy and intimacy to observing a model and quick sketches, often completed in just a few minutes, frequently become my favourite drawings.

Jamie Kelly

In London’s dense and conservation-conscious neighbourhoods, where rooflines are protected and rear gardens closely regulated, basement extensions have become an increasingly common way for homeowners to gain much-needed space. Whether it’s to accommodate a growing family, create a home office, or simply bring some breathing room into daily life, the decision to build downwards can offer both practical and architectural opportunities—if done well.

At Unagru Architecture Urbanism, we’ve delivered basement projects across Kensington, Hackney, Brent, Camden and Chelsea. For us, a basement is never just a space-making exercise—it’s a chance to rethink the home. We design them to be filled with light and possibility, shaped by the same clarity and care as the rest of the house. And crucially, we approach each project with the understanding that the best design delivers maximum benefit with minimum environmental and structural intervention.

Why Consider A Basement Extension?

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In areas where land is expensive and planning regulations are tight, basements often offer the most viable option for adding space without compromising the urban fabric. In prime boroughs like Kensington and Chelsea, property values often exceed £15,000 per square metre. Extending below ground can provide much-needed flexibility for families without the upheaval of moving.

But while basements are increasingly common, they’re far from routine. Every site presents its own challenges—technical, regulatory, even social. The best solutions begin with a deep understanding of place, structure, and lifestyle. At Unagru, we believe in designing not just to add space, but to improve how people live within it.

From Storage To Sanctuary: The Modern Basement

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The role of the basement has evolved dramatically. No longer just for storage or plant rooms, they now often serve as central living spaces. The shift has been particularly noticeable since the pandemic, which highlighted the importance of adaptable environments within the home.

At The Sponge in Queen’s Park, we designed a basement that is actively involved in the life of the house. A slatted timber wall encloses the staircase, offering both a sculptural presence and a spatial filter between the upper living and dining spaces. The basement itself is flexible: a study and media room can be closed off with curtains or sliding doors, while other areas remain open and adaptable.

In Kensington, at Cambridge Place, the basement became the new social centre of the home. By carefully lowering the rear garden, we were able to introduce a dining room that connects fluidly with the kitchen and opens directly onto a new paved terrace. What might have been a dark and enclosed level became an airy, outward-looking part of everyday life.

The Garden Connection: Bringing Basements To Life

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A key consideration when designing a basement is its relationship with the garden. Far from being a self-contained space, a well-designed basement should have a visual and physical dialogue with the outside. Lightwells—whether open or covered—play a crucial role, not only by introducing daylight but by allowing for continuity between levels, materials, and moments of use.

At The Sponge, the basement is accessible both internally and externally via a staircase clad in dark, stacked bricks that match the garden paving. This dual access transforms what could be a private retreat into a part of the home’s wider circulation system. The result is a circular flow—garden to basement to house and back again—that energises the entire space and avoids the sense of spatial dead-ends often found in garden extensions.

Similarly, at Studdridge Street, a small lightwell and a set of bright white steps provide light, views, and an architectural anchor within the garden’s landscaping. These modest interventions make a meaningful difference: the garden is no longer a separate zone but part of a wider domestic sequence. Social gatherings can evolve naturally—from drinks in the garden to films in the media room, or table tennis tournaments that last into the evening.

By aligning garden design with basement architecture, we create spaces that are both integrated and alive—tuned to the rhythms of daily life and rich with possibility.

Light From Above: Tradition And Influence

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The act of bringing light into a basement—drawing daylight from above into the heart of a building—is both a technical challenge and a long architectural tradition. One of the most poetic lessons I received in this came from Elias Torres Tur, my teacher at ETSAB in Barcelona, whose work often explored the beauty of “luz cenital”—zenithal light that falls directly from above. It’s a concept that creates drama without spectacle: shafts of natural light that focus, frame and animate space.

The same sensibility is found in the work of John Soane, perhaps the most inventive manipulator of daylight in British architecture. His masterpiece, the Dulwich Picture Gallery, is lit almost entirely from above—its rooflights casting an even, contemplative glow on the paintings below. But nowhere is his legacy more resonant than in the John Soane Museum. There, light travels miraculously through rooms and staircases, mirrored surfaces and voids. It’s a labyrinth of thresholds and reflections, a true masterclass in how to make underground spaces breathe. In many ways, it remains the finest example of a London basement extension—elegant, efficient, and entirely experiential.

This legacy continues to inspire our own work. At The Sponge, the central stair is more than a connector—it’s a lightwell, a spatial fulcrum, and an atmospheric device. Its slatted enclosure doesn’t just shape circulation; it filters daylight from above, softens shadows and adds texture to everyday movement.

Enclosed Light, Cultivated Calm

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The use of lightwells and enclosed patios to bring nature and daylight into otherwise introverted spaces has deep roots in architectural history. Japanese courtyard houses, such as those explored by Tadao Ando, offer carefully controlled interactions between interior and exterior. His excavated courtyards are not just light sources—they are spatial voids carved to invite stillness, balance and reflection.

This architectural impulse appears again and again across cultures. In India, the work of Studio Mumbai revives courtyard traditions as both climatic and social tools. Across the Mediterranean, from Morocco to Naples, patios were designed to collect water, tame the wind, and give homes a breath of sky. Ancient Pompeian houses—dense, urban and inward-looking—used their atria and peristyles not only as status symbols, but as climatic regulators and sources of gentle light.

These traditions resonate deeply in our work. We design lightwells and garden-level courtyards not as technical appendages, but as quiet protagonists. They’re places where children play, where plants thrive, and where a shaft of morning light can become an architectural event. In a way, these are the new domestic piazzas—open-air rooms folded into the life of the house, carefully shaped to bring a moment of landscape into the everyday.

Why Basement Projects Require Experienced Professionals

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Basement projects are not for beginners. They require coordination between architects, engineers, surveyors, planners and builders—all working with precision and foresight. In our experience, successful basements are the result of collaboration, craft, and calm problem-solving.

1. Structural Engineering

Working below ground in London means dealing with party walls, shallow foundations, and occasionally fragile neighbours. At Cambridge Place, a Georgian terrace in the De Vere Conservation Area, we faced all three. Years of ad hoc modifications had left the structure unbalanced. Our design reinstated clarity, stabilised the building, and introduced a fully connected lower ground level—all while working within heritage constraints.

At The Sponge, neighbour concerns were addressed early through a coordinated meeting between our team, the structural engineer, and both sides’ party wall surveyors. Clear information, transparency, and mutual respect allowed us to proceed with confidence.

2. Waterproofing

London’s clay soil, heavy rainfall and high water tables make waterproofing essential. We typically specify Type C systems—waterproof concrete combined with internal membranes and perimeter drainage linked to sump pumps.

Installation is everything. We require all contractors to attend certified training, and we often work with waterproofing consultants to ensure every detail is right. The goal is to design a system that quietly and reliably disappears into the background—keeping the basement dry, year after year.

3. Planning and Impact Assessments

In boroughs such as RBKC and Camden, basement proposals are scrutinised carefully—and rightly so. Basement Impact Assessments (BIAs) must cover everything from structural integrity and drainage to construction noise, waste removal and cumulative neighbourhood impacts.

Our recent project in Hackney, beneath a locally listed detached house, required a particularly thorough planning strategy. The house’s large footprint and deep garden allowed us to create a generous basement, but its heritage status demanded sensitivity. We incorporated lightwells within planted courtyards and concealed plant to preserve the garden’s character. The result feels both substantial and discreet.

4. Ventilation and Air Quality

Good basements feel natural, not subterranean. That depends as much on air as light. Mechanical Ventilation with Heat Recovery (MVHR) systems provide consistent, filtered air throughout the year—essential for wellbeing and energy efficiency.

In our Chelsea project at Studdridge Street, the basement includes a play area, studio, and guest accommodation. MVHR ensures these spaces are comfortable and fresh, without the need for open windows or compromise on insulation.

Financial Considerations 

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Basement extensions in London typically cost between £5,000 and £8,000 per square metre, with professional fees, VAT and contingency adding 30–40% to overall budgets. It’s a serious investment. But in many cases, the value returned—in terms of space, flexibility, and quality of life—justifies the cost.

At Cambridge Place, the new basement unlocked the rear of the house, connected inside and outside, and restored a coherent plan. At The Sponge, the basement added a calm, adaptable space to a compact family home—improving not just the square footage, but how the house is lived in.

Final Thoughts

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Basements are not simply about making more space. They’re about making better space—places where families can grow, rest, work, and live well.

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At Unagru, we approach basement design with the same care we bring to every project: clarity of structure, simplicity of form, and a strong connection to light and life. We don’t build big for the sake of it. We build what’s needed, and we build it well.

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If you’re considering a basement, let’s talk about what it could be—not just underneath, but at the heart of your home. Click here to contact us.

In this blog post we explore how to maximise daylight in house extensions, particularly in dense urban settings like East London. Featuring our newly completed project Reflective House, we walk through smart design strategies, planning tips, and how to meet Building Regulations Part L, even with large areas of glazing.

The Challenge

The original layout of Reflective House was typical of many London terraces: the front was south-facing and bright, but the rear had limited access to sunlight. Our goal was to transform a dark rear living space into a bright, open-plan kitchen and dining area, without losing connection to the rest of the home.

By preserving the south-facing front window and maintaining a dual-aspect layout, natural light from both ends of the house was allowed to flow through the home. This approach improved light levels and created a more balanced, inviting interior.

Smart Glazing Design

Adding more glass isn’t always straightforward due to recent changes in energy regulations. At Reflective House, we were able to install a large, carefully positioned rooflight spanning the entire kitchen zone, to ensure even daylight coverage by utilising the area-weighted U-Value calculations in Part L of the Building Regulations. This is explained in further detail below.

We also replaced the small rear door with a full-height glazed opening, visually connecting the interior to the garden and increasing perceived space. A generous upstand around the rooflight and a parapet roof allowed us to increase ceiling height while staying within local planning constraints.

Connecting Kitchen and Garden

A defining feature of Reflective House is the trio of sliding aluminium doors, installed across both the kitchen extension and the garden studio at the rear of the plot. These sliding doors open fully, allowing:

• Uninterrupted views from the front window to the back of the garden studio
• Seamless physical and visual connection between the main house, the garden, and the garden studio
• Enhanced daylight penetration, drawing reflected garden light back into the living space

When open, the doors make the garden, studio, and extension feel like a continuous environment. This transparency was instrumental in ensuring the rear, north-facing spaces felt vibrant, open, and bright. From the front hallway, you can now see all the way through to the studio at the end of the garden.

At the rear, we installed three-part sliding aluminium doors—one set in the extension and another in the new garden studio. When opened, they blur the boundary between inside and out. From the front hallway, you can now see all the way through to the studio at the end of the garden. It’s a game-changer for how the space feels: bright, spacious, and totally connected.

Interior Glazing

Our clients needed a quiet workspace which remained connected to the house. So we created a glazed acoustic screen between the kitchen/living space to create a home office. This preserved a sense of openness and daylight flow whilst offering sound separation. It was also critical in maintaining the dual-aspect daylight strategy, allowing light to penetrate from front to back.

Volume and Structure

To maximise the feeling of space, the extension was designed to be taller than the existing ground floor. We exposed the timber roof rafters, creating rhythm, texture, and a warm natural feel where light could be filtered through.

Letting The Sky In

Instead of a projecting roof or canopy, we chose a flat parapet roof for both the kitchen extension and garden studio. This avoids unnecessary shading and allows unobstructed access to the northern sky, drawing in diffused daylight throughout the day – crucial for a rear extension which does not have access to direct sun.

Building Regulations Part L Explained

Many homeowners worry about exceeding the 25% glazing limit under Building Regulations Part L. At Reflective House, we tackled this using an area-weighted U-value calculation, allowing more glazing while still meeting statutory energy efficiency standards.

This method compares the overall thermal performance of the proposed extension against a notional extension of the same size and shape, but built to the minimum U-values required by Approved Document L1B.

If the proposed design has an equal or better (i.e., lower) area-weighted U-value than the notional compliant version, then it meets Part L, even if the glazed areas exceed 25%.

 Our strategy included:

• High-performance glazing with low U-values
• Upgraded insulation to floors, roof, and walls to above the minimum requirements – the more that these elements can be improved – the more glazing that can be incorporated.
• Thermal bridge minimisation at all junctions

This holistic approach allowed us to meet Part L while achieving a bright, open design.

Whole House SAP Calculations

While an area-weighted U-value calculation is ideal for many extensions, there’s a more flexible – but more involved – option available: the SAP whole-house calculation.

SAP (Standard Assessment Procedure) is the UK government’s approved method for calculating the energy performance and CO₂ emissions of a dwelling. The full SAP route evaluates:

• The entire house, not just the extension
• The performance of the proposed design against a notional extension built to minimum standards
• The carbon emissions of the whole home to verify compliance

This route typically requires a qualified energy assessor using SAP 2012-approved software.

This approach is particularly useful when:

• You’re undertaking larger or more complex alterations with energy upgrades throughout
• You want greater freedom in glazing ratios and fabric performance
• You’re combining a house renovation with an extension

Planning a House Extension in London?

At Unagru, we specialise in transforming London homes through intelligent design. Whether you’re planning a side return, loft, or rear extension, we can help you:

• Maximise daylight
• Meet planning and Building Regulations
• Create calm, contemporary living spaces

Get in touch today for a complimentary consultation to start your project.

Architecture and design represent a journey where the order and manner of examination are as crucial, if not more so, than technical skills. The value of the design process lies in its ability to bring people together, engage with multiple perspectives, and merge instinct with reasoning to uncover the right narrative and point of view. Our approach involves listening to each stakeholder, interpreting subtle signs, and balancing various influences to create innovative designs.

Being open to complexity and different points of view

At the centre of our focus, is client’s perspective, both as personalities and characters and as representatives of modern and future societies. We are curious about the creative potential of conversations about their conditions,, characters, habits, plans, and aspirations. These elements form the first marks of the complex conversation that is the project. Secondly as designers, we bring in our own experience, ideas, curiosity and aesthetics: in our case a passion for ambiguously fluid and open spaces, and dense of architectural experiences.

Design sketch for our project at St Margarets.

Next, we include the building itself in the conversation, exploring its geographical location, orientation, and physical presence. Our project in St. Margarets, involves examining how light and mood vary throughout the house based on its orientation. The context extends up to a kilometre, defining the local typology and feel. The context of our project is particularly fascinating as it lies at the boundary between the bucolic Twickenham Park and the noisy urbanisation south of St. Margaret’s Road. This area represents a transition from countryside to city, not just in terms of urbanisation but as a layering of functions over a powerful natural substrate and historical context. Our site stands as a threshold between these two systems, embodying the contrast between the natural and the urban, the quiet and the bustling, the historical and the modern. Finally, we consider the broader global environment and society. This last character asks us to take care of water and energy, support nature, and reduce carbon dioxide emissions. Our commitment to sustainability involves viewing the house from the soil up and the sky down, integrating sustainable practices from the ground up. This approach challenges us to preserve energy, reduce carbon emissions, and enhance biodiversity.

The land

We could describe this area as a progression of development, the transformation of the countryside into the city, not just as the rumble of urbanisation but as a layering of functions covering the powerful natural substrate and history of the area. Our focus will be on the park as the former Twickenham Park, with a few scattered prestigious buildings amidst growing urbanisation, but primarily as a natural environment with historical overlays like a noisy road station.

Finally, our site stands at the boundary between these two systems, the natural and the overland, the bucolic and the frenetic. The environment challenges us to preserve energy, reduce carbon dioxide consumption, and enhance biodiversity, urging us to view the house from the soil up and from the sky down, from the outside in.

The historical background of Twickenham, specifically the St. Margaret’s area, is quite rich and diverse, covering several centuries. Here are some key points:

• 17th and 18th Centuries: Twickenham became notable for its abundance of villas built for persons of fashion, starting in the 17th century. Notable residents included Francis Bacon in the late 16th century and Lucy, Countess of Bedford in the early 17th century. The area saw significant development of villas along the river and around the town. By 1723, Twickenham was remarked upon for its many elegant seats.
• 18th Century: In the 1760s, the Duchess of Newcastle, one of the residents, managed a variety of mixed farming in the area. Later, Lord Frederick Cavendish acquired the estate and, upon his death in 1803, it passed to Sir William Abdy. Abdy divided the estate into lots for auction, and the southern section, including the mansion, was purchased by Francis Gosling of St Margarets. However, by 1809, Gosling had demolished the Twickenham Park House.
• Marble Hill House: Built in 1724 for Henrietta Howard, mistress of King George II, Marble Hill House is a prime example of Palladian architecture and is set in 66 acres of parkland. It was a center for literary and artistic gatherings in the 18th century.
• 19th Century: The area continued to develop in the 19th century, with JMW Turner and Charles Dickens among its notable residents. Significant housing developments occurred, including the transformation of large estates like Twickenham Park and Cambridge Park into residential buildings. The railway’s arrival in Twickenham in 1848 was a key factor in this growth.
• 19th and 20th Century Developments: By 1840, development within Twickenham Park began with the erection of substantial villas. The 1930s saw major housing development, and by 1950, most of the land was developed for housing. The area of Twickenham Park House was demolished in 1929, and the land was used for gravel excavation before being filled in for residential development in the early 1930s.
• 20th Century Changes: Twickenham saw further changes in the 20th century, with large estates being broken up for smaller housing developments. The area experienced a shift from being a riverside retreat to a more residential and developed district. Over the century, with the central area largely built up, developers focused on areas like Whitton and began replacing large houses with more affordable properties.
• Contemporary Twickenham: Today, St Margarets and Twickenham are known for their high employment levels and are popular with professional classes. The area has a mix of residential properties, including semi-detached houses and classical flats, especially near Twickenham Park. Local commerce is vibrant with shops, cafés, and bars, and the area has well-frequented local, independent businesses.

Sandycombe Lodge

(Left) Sandycombe Lodge, Villa of JMW Turner, engraved by WB Cooke.

(Right) Design sketch for Sandycombe Lodge, Twickenham, by JMW Turner.

Sandycombe Lodge, located in Twickenham, is a significant example of early 19th-century architecture with a fascinating history. It was designed and built by the renowned landscape painter J.M.W. Turner in 1813 as a country retreat and a home for his father, William Turner. The Lodge exemplifies Turner’s architectural aspirations and reflects his close friendship with the architect John Soane.

The House

The house has an interesting split quality; it faces St. Margaret’s Road to the south, which entails noise and a bit of confusion but also brings light, brightness, and warmth. On the other side, it faces a quiet street lined with large trees, but being north, it’s darker and cooler. An alley connects these two worlds, and the house itself is a threshold between them. Several buildings come to mind, like Strawberry Hill, the first half-Gothic, half-classical building in the Mediterranean culture, where two microclimates are used to create air movement and cool down living spaces. In Pompeii, living quarters were set far from the entrance, particularly areas dedicated to women, with the whole axis experience designed for privacy yet also showcasing the depth and size of the house.

This thought keeps nagging me: the house has two entrances, and one day there will be a small child, a buggy, and an instinct for protection that might lead to flipping the house’s ancient experience from front to rear. Exiting the house would mean gradually adapting to an exterior world that is private, like a courtyard, and seeing a quiet street with shade, sunlight, birds chirping, and leaves filtering the light. The side alleys could become a threshold, a filter between the two worlds outside the house, hiding or collecting side entrances or accessories for a double life, like bicycles at the front and perhaps an entrance at the side. This double essence is perceivable inside, especially in terms of light, with the quality and intensity varying enormously between front and rear. On the ground floor, an open plan could allow for experiencing different degrees of brightness and tones of light.

Preliminary renderings of our project at St Margarets

How do you describe the project for one’s own office? What is more important? The way the office was brought together with others was a form of cooperation and a way to demonstrate that professionals should and could find more ways of improving their lives, their companies, and their position in society. Or from the sustainability strategy, based on reducing the footprint of the fit-out and keeping the office running without natural gas, of course! Or the quality of our work environments and the importance of having a bright office with fresh filtered air, plants, natural materials, a standing desk, and nice smells. Or perhaps from purely architectural considerations of proportions, space, light, and texture. The whole point I have been making is precisely that ‘architectural’ today should mean society, space, light, texture, employees’ well-being, sustainability, finance, and collaboration. Inevitably, our project for our office encapsulates ideas and ambitions related to all the above. So, I will need several blog posts to describe them all. The first one is an introduction and a table of contents.

I. ‘A beautiful space’: Thanks to very few design moves, we have created a space that is easy, welcoming, looks excellent and feels great. Two distinctive floor finishes mark the serving areas and the served (work) area, separated by a plywood and polycarbonate piece of joinery/partition. Sliding panels allow roaming around the space and through the two zones.

II. Sustainability A. As we progress towards a low-carbon grid and lower energy prices in the future, emphasis should shift to embedded carbon, i.e., favouring recycled, low-carbon materials. When designing the new studio, we planned to reuse as much of the joinery as we had in the old space. Our old desks became sliding doors, the bookshelves were clad or formed new walls, and were adapted to become interior shelves. We made the elements we couldn’t build from recycled materials with cut-to-size plywood assembled by our expert Neapolitan joiner friends, Mario and Antonio. Towards the end, when the large panels were gone, joiners and architects became more creative and still managed to build a boiserie for the meeting room and a standing desk from offcuts. It was a fun experience and a rare opportunity to see our design ideas take form in days rather than months or years. In the case of our office, most of the budget was therefore invested in expert labour rather than materials. (Imagine how much we could reduce our carbon footprint and increase well-being if taxation shifted from labour to carbon (materials)).

III. Sustainability B. The same attention to carbon informed our heating and hot water strategy. Windows are kept shut, and the air is circulated mechanically thanks to an MVHR system, which recovers heat from the outgoing air. Thanks to this, heating requirements are kept to a minimum and are covered easily by our six infrared ceiling panels (infrared is the most efficient direct electric heating system). A tiny electric boiler heats the little hot water we need.

IV. We chose a space with large windows on the street. The office is flooded with light. We have a standing desk to get out of our chairs occasionally (a new obsession of mine after reading “The Miracle Pill”). We wave to children walking by and feel the changing light conditions.

V. A company with more than one shareholder owns the office. The people who share the space can purchase shares proportionally to their desks. The exchange of shares is done without making a profit on others. Oddly, this is one of the aspects of the project that interests me the most now. Is there a way for professionals to join forces and build the workplaces they need for their companies?

Davide’s comments following the first post by the Unagru team.

This is a fascinating debate and one I am very fond of.

Given my background and annoying nature, I would try to structure the argument more clearly. I would also describe our project’s relation more in-depth. Finally, colour is very personal. It might be helpful to investigate the artists’ houses to try and find some correspondence between life and work or between artists’ work and consistent forms of living. Now I imagine showing several artworks to clients and extrapolating their ideal colour scheme.

Back to the structure. Intro. The human perception and colours. What is the effect of colours, and what is their use? Why does the human brain even perceive colours? This is evolutionary neuroscience. The human eye is not comfortable in the presence of plain and consistent surfaces such as a perfectly white wall (in praise of imperfect decorators). We are more comfortable with slight colour variations and textures. Natural materials have this advantage. The first quote in the blog post is so important: there is no colourless architecture.

It’s enough to think of a Carlo Scarpa interior or the exterior of San Marco and the Doge Palace in Venice. Other incredibly colourful interiors I remember are Bernini’s churches.

1. The first distinction I would make is between interior and exterior colours. Interior and exterior surfaces serve different purposes. The exterior embodies the building’s civic, contextual, and representative character. Instead, the interior represents the comfort or lack of thereof, the buildings’ protective, atmospheric, everyday nature. Second, colours in front of us and colours around us: interiors. Interiors are the essence of architecture, the art that surrounds the user. The exterior architecture is the social and political value of architecture, city building environment and community. For some reason, interiors tend to be discounted in favour of the exterior, especially in academia. On the other hand, several formal and informal houses around Napoli are left unfinished on the outside, while the interiors are vibrant. Even when finished, usually the exteriors were pretty unimaginative: coloured render and metal railings.

The second is the use of the building. From a phenomenological or experiential point of view, anything experienced daily will slowly evolve into something different and will inevitably build a stronger relationship with the user. The second reason and the basis for a final distinction are between everyday personal or nuclear experience, e.g. the house lived by one family, versus the regular use of several people, like in workspaces, schools, versus places experienced by the masses and only seldom be different from something that is perceived sell them. Moving from the first to the latter, the expression and ambitions of the building are less and less personal and will quickly become more generic. Commercial buildings tend to be closer to houses because modern marketing strategies usually require that a brand is reflected in every aspect of a company’s communication. Even more particular or personal can be small companies’ commercial premises, which reflect the founder’s personalities. In other words, colour is a way for the building to talk and be louder.

Finally, I think the building should have a say. I don’t want to sound boring, but I believe in some form of plausible relation – excluding restaurants, bars, clubs and maybe hotels – between interior and exterior. I can’t explain it enough; it has to do with coherence, or avoiding visual short-circuits. For example, I live in a zinc-clad, large windowed, crisp-cornered 2010’s building. The interiors are the epitome of standardisation: 2500mm ceilings, 2 metre high doors, glossy white kitchen, wood floor in the living areas, carpet in the bedrooms, and grey tiles in the bathrooms. When I thought about personalising the space (I had to, of course), I felt that I needed to respect the essence of the flat and the building. So I opted for patches of plain colour (every door and every frame are coloured), coloured joinery (IKEA or designed by me), and plants. In other words, I find there is added beauty in the economy of means and coherence of style.

“…Colour is one of the oldest architectural design elements – colourless architecture does not exist.”

“I sympathise with Gropius who when asked his favourite colour, replied, “All of them!” People are frightened about choosing the ‘right’ ones, but I don’t worry about following rules… if a colour is beautiful, it will go with another beautiful colour.” – Richard Rogers, 2013.

We love bold colours, but we notice many people seem afraid to use them. In this article we look to understand why this might be, and what colour means to us all. This blog post is primarily focused on colour used in architectural and interior design to convey certain moods or create atmospheres, and to reflect the personality of the user.

At The Spider we used a deep red to highlight a new three-legged steel structure (hence the project’s name..) that allowed to unify space. The steel structure was was really the centre piece of the intervention: the aim was to keep a trace of the previous layout – three separate rooms – by setting the new structure well below the ceiling and then modelling three different ceiling shapes. The red element jumps out immediately and declares the project’s intentions; while it also draws attention to the three ceilings. A visitor asks a questions and the narration begins. The design also partially incorporated an old fireplace; this time the trace was almost disappearing,in the joinery. We paint the surround a bright yellow (including part of the kitchen joinery); the client then added a stove and the fireplace gained a whole new character. The only element shifting across the original rooms os the kitchen island, for which we chose a very deep green, complementary to the red. We had in mind Matisse, and the Fauves and Van Gogh. Finally, the client chose beautiful North African tiles for the kitchen and green house areas, with complementary dark green and red tones. The result is a joiyful twist on a very subtle form of intervention. The red posts are more approachable, and soon full of magnets, childrens’ drawings and photographs. Even more colour.

We picked a bright yellow for the ceiling and wall paint in the entrance of The Boat & Pavilion. We chose the colour specifically so that the natural North light would reflect off the wall and ceiling to create a warmer atmosphere. Moving deeper into the service area (just one door away), everything is painted in a dark blue, like an underwater world: after all, it’s a house for sailors, yellow sun and blue water are familiar references.

At the Peckham Glass Box, our client Helen chose a rich Cobalt blue to create focal points in the large open plan kitchen. The colour is particularly striking within the glass box itself, surrounded by the sky and the garden.

Spider (left), The Boat & Pavilion (middle), Peckham Glass Box (right).

Now, we wouldn’t be boring humanists if we didn’t try to show off a little with the theory of colour, the origin of primary colours and its relationship to the educational and practical context of architecture. If you have a social life you might want to skip ahead.

Theory of colour

“To Goethe, the theory was the result of mistaking an incidental result for an elemental principle. Far from pretending to a knowledge of physics, he insisted that such knowledge was an actual hindrance to understanding. He based his conclusions exclusively upon exhaustive personal observation of the phenomena of colour.” (Kardinata, 2014)

The most significant debate around colour was carried out by Sir Isaac Newton and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, from the scientific and artistic points of view respectively, “while the theory of Newton and his successors was based on excluding the colour-seeing faculty of the eye, Goethe founded his theory on the eye’s experience of colour” (Lehrs, 2014). What draws the common point between the two is the respect of light as the source of colours, where light is the key ingredient in animating architectural spaces.

To the left, a coulour wheel attributed to Newton in 1704 (Jones, 2017). This was a result of Newton’s experiments with prism and beams of sunlight. Newton demonstrated that “different light wavelengths are combined to create different colours, and when added together the result is white light.” (Clair, 2018)

Middle, Newton’s colour wheel as further elaborated by Moses Harris. (Jones, 2017)

Right, Goethe’s colour wheel dissects the pie-chart wheel into 6 colours symmetrically, with a belief that “colour itself is a degree of darkness” (Jones, 2017), rejected Netwon’s statement of “darkness as an absence of light”.

Primary colours

“Colour can be used strategically to orchestrate spatial sequences or to visualise tectonics, it can support light and shadow, make surfaces an optical and haptic experience and much more. Colour is one of the oldest architectural design elements – colourless architecture does not exist.” – Steffanie Wettstein, n.a

Newton’s description of primary colours as “coloured spectral components of sunlight” inspired the different arguments that narrow primary colours into three, by the prominent contributors of “modern colour science” (Mollon, 2003):

-David Brewster: red, yellow, blue

-Thomas Young: red, green, violet

-James Clerk Maxwell: red, green, blue

-Hermann von Helmholtz: slightly purplish red, slightly yellowish-vegetation green, ultramarine blue

Fast forward to the end of 1910s, the birth of De Stijl art movement, which consisted of renowned architects such as Gerrit Rietveld, Jacobus Oud and artists including Theo van Doesburg, Piet Mondrian. The movement advocates the strict ideals of vertical and horizontal geometry, with red, yellow & blue perceived as “pure form”. The International Style was then developed with the use of white, as the great Le Corbusier stated ‘white as pure and cleanliness’ which we can see that white colour is a safe bet still today (Lange, 2010). This happened in Bauhaus School as well, despite the lessons of colours being taught, but it is “notable that he (Walter Gropius, founder of the Bauhaus) invited artists to do this not architects”. Therefore, it seems to be the implication that colours were applied mainly within the realm of art, but rather limited in architecture. (Ogundehin, 2018)

Composition A by Piet Mondrian (left). Can be noticed in other architects’ works, including Le Corbusier’s Unite d’habitation (middle), Gerrit Rietveld’s Schroder House (right).

Fast forward to the end of 1910s, the birth of De Stijl art movement, which consisted of renowned architects such as Gerrit Rietveld, Jacobus Oud and artists including Theo van Doesburg, Piet Mondrian. The movement advocates the strict ideals of vertical and horizontal geometry, with red, yellow & blue perceived as “pure form”. The International Style was then developed with the use of white, as the great Le Corbusier stated ‘white as pure and cleanliness’ which we can see that white colour is a safe bet still today (Lange, 2010). This happened in Bauhaus School as well, despite the lessons of colours being taught, but it is “notable that he (Walter Gropius, founder of the Bauhaus) invited artists to do this not architects”. Therefore, it seems to be the implication that colours were applied mainly within the realm of art, but rather limited in architecture. (Ogundehin, 2018)

Since 1950-1960s, with the introduction of everyday objects and the appreciative, honest pursue of natural elements and textures (Pilaroscia, n.a), the colour palette has since then inclined with natural-based, light-toned colours such as concrete-grey and brown-timber. The minimalist Scandinavian (SmithBrothers, 2016) and Japanese design prevailed, expressing a calm, close-to-nature atmosphere. In terms of simplistic furniture design and its supplies, more or less our clients (and ourselves) are influenced by the large influx of furniture markets such as IKEA and Muji, which indirectly shape our preferences in interior design and architecture.

There are more to be discussed about colours and its history which navigate the present and future of how we use, see and perceive colours. To continue the conversations Unagru is asking some fun questions, first we ask our team but please also send your thoughts to mail@unagru.com or you can send us a direct message to our Instagram!

1 what does colour mean to you? how does colour play its role in design? perhaps with the combination of texture and materiality to express certain emotion/mood?

2 which colour is your favourite/best represent yourself? and why?

3 is there any colour your least favourite? and why?

4 is there anyone/artist/architect use colour in their works that impressed you? Or any memorable colourful works?

5 do you think architecture today uses limited palette of colour like black and white? may it be buildings or drawings?

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Jamie:

Le Cobusier’s La Roche was recently repainted a creamy colour to reflect the original. It wasn’t actually white. These reminds me of a few quotes:

“The rediscovery of the interior polychromies and the restoration of the ‘stony hued’ facades (Le Corbusier’s expression) was a surprise to both specialists and neophytes influenced by the dominant discourse on the celebrated ‘white villas’ of the Modern Movement… The polychromy here was of an experimental nature, conceived as a link between Le Corbusier’s twin worlds, painting and architecture.”

Worth looking at Corbu’s different palettes, namely Architectural Polychromy.

The Parthenon was likely like this rather than white, like the image on the left.

One of the boldest uses of colour I have seen is Carlo Aymonino’s Galaratese Quarter.

Colours remind me of Aldo Rossi’s Cataldo Cemetery in Modena… and also David Hockney’s Bigger Splash (images below).

I like to be pretentious when I’m asked my favourite colour. “I don’t have a favourite colour, I have a favourite combination”

La Majorelle is probs my favourite colour combo building. You can get away with these colours in Morocco because of the light. Much harder to do here in cloudy England.

I like O’Donnell + Tuomey’s staple use of maroon in many of their schemes, for example An Gaelaras :

John Piper’s stained glass in Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral (images above) is incredible. I’ve also attached a photo I took whilst there that shows the intensity of the pink coming through the window at sunset. The colour varies in different parts of the cathedral and different times of day.

I thought would be interesting to share this piece of writing about Carlo Scarpa.

“He wanted to achieve the same grace, the same elegance, the same transparency. It was the starting point of his infinite love for perfection: the revelation of absolute form, in an extraordinary tension that always combined an enormous attention to detail, even the most microscopic and hidden one, to the harmony of the whole. A very refined taste, where colour becomes transparency, light becomes stone, and matter becomes a soft rainbow, obtained with various techniques: the mosaic of small tesserae transfigured by the colours of the “murrine”, the earthy cracked surfaces of the “corrosi” pieces, the archaic tones of the “sommersi”, the Mediterranean colours of the “pennellati”, the chromatic feast of the “iridati”, the waves and the geometries of the lunar crests of the “incisi”, the splendid arabesques in vegetable flakes of the “battuti”. One of his great predecessors, Adolf Loos, wrote that “ornament is a crime”; however, Loos was, in his own way, a great decorator. He too dedicated himself to glass, making beautiful cylinder shaped glasses in excellent Bohemian crystal.” (Repetto Gallery, n.a)

I don’t like anything brown and murky.

Colour shouldn’t be obvious in painting. i.e. the sky should never be blue and plants green. This is why I hate Constable but love Turner. Turner, Monet, Hockney, Bacon, Matisse are the great colourists.

Oh, and Barrajas Airport (image above) by Rogers Stirk Harbour + Partners is on my mind, thanks to my trip. Lovely use of colour: very cinematic and great modulation of light. Probably my favourite airport I’ve been through yet.

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Thomas:

To me colour is the variable that tones form, provides depth, embraces and absorbs the light, and stirs our subconscious. We aren’t always aware of colour and it’s impact on our mental state, and I think balancing colour and texture with activities and space can often be a challenge. I strive to find that balance by getting to know people and understand how they want to feel in their home – some super-bright geometric tiles to bring joy when you walk through the front door? Maybe some natural tones and textures in the living space and bedrooms? Or a big dark concrete kitchen island to bring the rest of the room into perspective?

I have always been a fan of natural pigments, I find these tones extremely emotive in the way they reference the natural world; they are strong but not loud, and calm without being apathetic. Two pigments that I really like are Ochre – iron hydroxide – and Schloss green – copper arsenite – (obviously most of these pigments have to be synthetically reproduces now due to cost/toxicity), I like to think they represent me in that they can put you at ease, and they are calm but with a reassuring strength.

I think every colour has its place, but there are definitely fewer places for neons/day-glo…

I have two thoughts on memorable artist /architect works:

Casa Luis Barragan, Mexico City, Mexico.

Cuadra San Cristóbal (San Cristóbal stables), Ciudad López Mateos, Mexico

One of my favourite architects – and one that goes all out with colour – is Luis Barragán, absolute master of colourful juxtaposition with texture and natural materials. A couple of his stand out works being Casa Luis Barragan – his own home and studio, and Cuadra San Cristóbal (San Cristóbal stables), beautiful use of coloured texture and mass to create monolithic landscaping.

Centre Pompidou, Paris, France.

Rogers House (22 Parkside), Wimbledon,England

The other architect is Richard Rogers; I’m not much of a ‘high-tech’ enthusiast, but I really appreciate the little pockets of joy Rogers brought into what can easily become quite mundane and repetitive typologies. Whilst everyone else built monochromatic glass and steel towers, he picked out and exposed the often-ignored building services with bright colours and exaggerated-yet-functional form. The works include Centre Pompidou, services celebrated with colour, and Rogers house, full of colour and strong juxtaposition – lots of fun!

I think we use just as much colour today as we have always used, and nowadays with colour being cheap and easy, probably even more-so. A lot of our colour-use throughout history has taken the form of décor (tapestries, paintings, upholstery, ornament, the painting of minor elements such as window frames or glass), but now we have the ability to apply colour to anything at any scale.

Written by Gary, with contribution of Unagru architects

Edited by Nancy Hargreaves

Over 2022 we are looking to share some design books that most resonate with us, up first is ‘The Architecture of Happiness’ by Alain de Botton which feels a perfect choice to share with our clients, colleagues and friends. This book encapsulates the philosophies and lessons that we at Unagru believe in, that we have translated into our architectural design practice.

I came across other books by de Botton, such as ‘Essays in Love’ and ‘Status Anxiety’ and his ‘School of Life’ videos on YouTube, which philosophise or perhaps even romanticise the ideals of daily endeavours, from personal relationships to worldview perspective. The revisiting of ‘The Architecture of Happiness’ was surprisingly refreshing, observing how his deep knowledge in literature, arts and philosophy translates into architecture. The key elements of his narrative? Beauty and happiness.

The main statement of this book comes into the scene later, after a general introduction of how de Botton sees and experiences architecture, where he offered his thoughts by quoting Stendhal;

‘Beauty is the promise of happiness… there are as many styles of beauty as there are visions of happiness’.

Page 98

The first three chapters of the book serve as a good introductory background for the readers to perceive the fundamentals of architecture, connecting to topics like styles, aesthetics and in general how to read a building. Personally, I thought the chapter ‘The Ideals of Home’ is a crucial one as it directly demonstrates the principles of home designs and domicile, which translate into ownership and sense of belonging. For Unagru, we believe in this for both residential and non-residential projects.

“… what we call a home is merely any place that succeeds in making more consistently available to us the important truths which the wider world ignores, or which our distracted and irresolute selves have trouble holding on to. As we write, so we build: to keep a record of what matters to us.”

Page 118

In his earlier writings, de Botton stated the human’s constant, perplexing desire and drive for happiness in relation to architecture as a reminder or pursuit in our life, particularly the role of a home in mirroring who we are. Perhaps it is fair to say; if the personalised elements such as decorations placed or the time spent by the occupants are reminders or reflection of the identities, then the architecture is the common pursuit of the user and architect to a better lifestyle where both sharing the same projection of ‘styles of beauty and visions of happiness’.

Overall, I would recommend this book to all those interested in architecture and design, it is both accessible to read and, I would suggest, it can take you on a contemplative experience!

Written by Gary Yeow

Edited by Nancy Hargreaves