Some buildings earn their character over decades. The brief here wasn't to design something new. It was to understand something old well enough to continue it.
The existing 1970s residence in Buziga had a quiet authority — a particular brick, a particular weight, a particular way of sitting within its hillside. The extension had to earn its place beside that. Not complement it from a distance. Belong to it.
The brick was the first and most defining test. The original bond was no longer in production. Rather than substitute a contrasting material and call the difference intentional — as many would — we tracked down a match. The join between old and new, when you stand before it, asks you to look twice.
Below grade, the site held its own complications: drainage and plumbing lines routed through decades of undocumented history. These were carefully relocated, the sloped ground terraced and retained in rubble stone that speaks the same material language as the building it serves. Above, the new slab resolved into a usable rooftop terrace — a private outdoor room, with the mature canopy of Buziga at eye level.
The extension now houses a new bedroom, ensuite, and that terrace. But what it really delivers is something rarer: the sense that it was always there.






