Hofbode III (Crusoe)

After the war, they began appearing everywhere: detached homes on generous plots, with two or three pitched gables placed at right angles, red roof tiles above brick walls, all resting on a dark natural stone plinth, not smooth, but made of coarse, rugged chunks. Most are shallow, often with a square footprint. The roof rises steeply but also cuts into the usable space upstairs. Characterful and romantic, but often quite compact too.

A little further back stands an outbuilding. The plot, the buildings, and the path of the sun all point to a low, elongated extension, a bridge between the two. It tapers, not only to avoid over-building, but to make space for garden and light. The new volume steps back. Modest. Humble. The roof tilts, low on the garden side, revealing its green top: a garden atop a garden. It stretches outward, shielding the façade from sun and rain alike. The rear extension echoes the stone plinth of the main house. But above that, it turns into garden again: painted green, and soon overgrown. A stranded ship, its hull tipped sideways, overtaken by vegetation, sheltering its crew beneath.