Ludwig Godefroy designs a brutalist shelter in a Mexican alpine forest with Casa Alférez

The perfect symmetry of a cube has been regarded as a powerful symbol of geometrical shelter, stability, safety, and symphonic proportions—one of the simplest solids, cubic forms have been given prime status across interfaith religious architecture, from Islam, Buddhism, ancient Christianity, and more. Its pleasing dimensions pervade the concept of the Alférez house designed by Ludwig Godefroy, a vision in board-form concrete pronounced in a raw and compositional visual language, from its colliding concrete surfaces and astonishingly lofty interiors. On the face of it, mismatched concrete elements decorate the skin of the fortress-like monolith, jutting out at odd angles at places, while unrelated shapes and surfaces of varying scales contradict the light-filled mass inside. What was the architect’s vision?

Although poetry in concrete has been copiously cast and explored by architectural authors, namely Tadao Ando, Le Corbusier, and Peter Zumthor, the plain honesty of this material still excites and surprises, regardless of the built typology. Godefroy is known for his imaginative use of stark raw materials, namely concrete, approached in a Brutalist style across most of his portfolio, and the same can be deduced from this cubic residence in Mexico as well. “As you said, I am really into the essentiality and rigour of raw materials and the quiet beauty of brutalist architecture. I like the designed atmosphere to be simple and monastic—it relaxes me. I tend to use only a few essential materials, massive in scale and size, but the idea is for these materials to age, and not get damaged with time, and acquire a natural patina that bears a cloak maturity,” the Mexico-based French architect tells STIR.

“The origin of the concept of Alférez house comes from the idea of a cabin in the wood and its romantic feeling of ​​a protective shelter in the middle of the forest. I wanted the house to look like a cube which would have crashed on the floor, among the trees,” he explains.

While Brutalist forms are often associated with rigidity and severity, Casa Alférez offers itself as a lyrical yet unconventional refuge, responding to the idea of an ‘isolated house in the forest,’ one that never loses sight of the necessity for a strong feeling of security’- according to Godefroy, the house in its quiet eccentricities is “like a vault, made of concrete, that protects and cares for its inhabitants.” The location of the weekend house influences ‘everything’ in its design since it rests cosily between the middle of a pine tree grove—it ‘grows’ high instead of horizontally to ‘catch’ the light playing peekaboo between the foliage.

I wanted the house to look like a cube which would have crashed on the floor, among the trees. – Ludwig Godefroy

Situated just outside Mexico City within a dense Alpine Forest, the 81 sqm concrete architecture gets its name from its location, (Alférez is the name of the wider region where the cabin is located), and comes alive in its unique verticality amalgamating with choreographed, half-level spaces, a result of a mix of languages—"on one hand, the cabin is the romantic part of the project; on the other, the fortress is the brutalist, protective part. The ground floor is almost blind, while the windows are placed on a very high level where you can’t reach them from the outside, opening views toward the sky and the pine trees on the inside,” Godefroy explains.

The structural footprint of the residential architecture is compact (9x9m), to avoid a complex and expensive foundation responding to the land’s topography, underscored by the vision of ‘growing’ the height of the monolith to create a second ground floor on top, with the suspended rooftop terrace making friends with the lofty tree canopies. The rooftop reflects the quaint, almost monastic interiors of the two-bedroom holiday home, a space for morning tea, while the ‘natural’ ground floor becomes a space for the afternoon area. Casa Alférez thus seeks the light among the vegetation, almost flirting with the crown of the majestic pine trees. The contextual design was conceived to develop vertically, instead of horizontally, “to allow people to touch the tree branches” says Godefroy.

Godefroy observes that the grey-infested residential design seems like an unstable box dropped on top of the natural slope, cantilevered on its south corner, and sunken on its opposite north corner. “The project recreates the feeling of a cabin suspended on top of the natural topography of its land. The structure expresses this contradiction, generating a singular contrast between the feeling of lightness of a cabin, balanced by the weight of the concrete and the fortress personality of the house,” he states.

The private residence is rewarded with bespoke prismatic overhangs, sloping walls, angled staircases, warm timber flooring, sparsely placed indoor plants, and elongated naked columns that imbibe a playful and quirky persona to the otherwise subdued setting.

My architecture is willing to get rid of the unnecessary, to concentrate on the very essence of the structure of the building, where architecture could offer a contemporary reinterpretation of what could mean vernacular. (It) focuses on changing people habits rather than looking for technological improvements, towards a simpler way of living with fewer necessities, to minimie our impact on the ecology of our planet. – Ludwig Godefroy

Developed in ‘half-levels,’ the Mexican architecture’s unique, open-plan configuration is choreographed around a double-height central space, producing a ‘cathedral-like’ proportion and feeling within its monastic, plain grey interior design that finds respite through concentrated pockets of sunlight. Natural light streams in with abandon from everywhere—the top, through windows placed high, and geometric skylights. The double-height space disperses the channelled light through and into the geometric design, compensating for the lack of windows on the ground level, barring two slit windows.

Commenting on the idea of the thick concrete buttresses supporting the house, as well as the purpose of the massive, angled slab decorating the entrance, Godefroy said—"I had this floating corner on one side and a sunken one on the other side. When I saw it, it made me think of the Archigram Walking City concopt, so I started to draw columns as some sort of legs! Then I decided to overscale the entrance marquise to respond to those limbs. It might look a bit odd, but I think it gives the project an edge.”

Built on a square plan, this ‘box of light’ articulated in concrete is given relief as you move from the outside to the inside, encountering an almost triple height space, and following five ‘half-levels’ until you reach the top. Godefroy paints an experience—one first enters the contemporary architecture facing a plain wall, turning around to look up immediately, as the eye travels towards light inside the ‘almost’ triple height space.

You then head towards the living space, the ‘conversation pit,’ replete with built-in concrete furniture including a sunken lounge, shelving, counters, tables, and beds, before ascending the unadorned concrete stairs to reach the monkish kitchen area. Half a level up in front sits the office studio space. Further up the stairs rests the balcony that overlooks the ‘conversation pit’ through the triple-height area again. Finally, the last flight of stairs reaches the top terrace, suspended spiritually among the middle of the pine trees.

“My architecture focuses on the relation between two countries—firstly, the country where I was born—France, my origin. On the other hand, the country where I live and work: Mexico, my inspiration. I titled this work ‘Concordance,’ in which I explore through my different architectural projects some subjective similarities I found between the bunkers of Normandy, where I come from, with the pre-Hispanic, Mexican temples, and pyramids. Through this relationship between those two, a priori, disconnected worlds became my personal architectural signature and started to define a singular aesthetic. I explore the common points of ‘monolith structures’ and ‘mono-materiality’—stone versus concrete—of those two different worlds of architecture, based on such an elemental architecture artefact, the wall. However, it’s the time and the common condition of ruins shared by bunkers and pyramids which link them on top of everything. The ruin is this contradiction of the time which has passed, but which remains through the persistence of old elements from the past in our present, nevertheless in a state of re-composition. This is precisely the property of time I use in my architecture—time, as if it would be a material, following the idea of stepping back to this old and simple concept of ‘the patina of time.’

In an opposite way of thinking from the ‘everything throwaway mentality’ of our modern societies, I’m looking for the same simplicity and authenticity that I encounter in vernacular architecture. This research of simplicity is leading me to create a clean and abstract style of architecture, composed exclusively of massive materials, such as concrete, wood and stone. All those materials can get old and better looking under the action of time, rather than getting damaged. My architecture is willing to get rid of the unnecessary, to concentrate on the very essence of the structure of the building, where architecture could offer a contemporary reinterpretation of what could mean vernacular. My vision of architecture focuses on changing people habits rather than looking for technological improvements, towards a simpler way of living with fewer necessities, to minimise our impact on the ecology of our planet,” Godefroy tells STIR.