Flanken

A mountain slope, its path spiralling upwards in stages. The existing house is a split-level, its rooms strung together like a necklace by one staircase, or rather, several. Mountain plateaus, inhabitable and open, but two flanks remain barren, untouched by daily life. A piece of furniture arrives, like a stubborn herb or a nimble mountain goat. The cliffs between the open plains are addressed and cultivated.

The first flank is more of a precipice. The furniture begins where gravity prefers: solid in the valley. A closed front of small doors. Half-moon cut-outs serve as handles. Another sedimentary layer reveals itself as panels in warm orange wood. The cabinet climbs and lightens. Vertical bars span the height (again, half-moons), and carry shelves. Light and sight filter through. Children don’t.

The second flank is broader, its incline gentler. Behind the ridge, the relief unexpectedly drops into a calm hollow; a quiet valley, where a desk will land. We borrow from eastern rice terraces, adding flat platforms that bridge the stairs. Below, a simple closed cabinet fills out the mass. The shelter of the valley is reinforced: low cabinets align with the existing ridge. By the window: a desktop, a place of observation. Above, the vertical bars climb once more. Quarter moons this time, resting against the wall. Slopes once inhospitable, now open to life.