Set within the rolling countryside of Umbria, this 120-acre estate lay dormant for more than four decades before its revival in the mid-1990s. Since then, the land has been patiently restored as a working organic farm—planted with vineyards, olive and pomegranate groves, ancient grain wheat, and seasonal vegetables—its harvest shared locally and its wines distributed in Europe and the United States. The architecture is conceived not as an imposition on this landscape, but as a quiet extension of its renewed life.
The building serves multiple roles: shelter for farm equipment, an office, and a place of gathering where wine, olive oil, and flour are sampled and shared. At its centre is an oval room, restrained in form yet expansive in feeling. A continuous skylight traces the junction of roof and wall, admitting a soft, shifting band of daylight that moves slowly across the interior. Light becomes the primary material, shaping time, space, and mood. The atmosphere is deliberate and spare—at once refined and elemental—allowing the rituals of tasting, conversation, and pause to unfold without distraction.
Above, a single apartment introduces a more intimate scale. The bedroom suite opens toward long western views across the countryside, offering a place of retreat that remains closely tied to the rhythms of the land below.
The estate lies within a UNESCO World Heritage landscape, where new construction is tightly regulated. Only a portion of the structure could emerge above grade, and exposed walls were required to be clad in local stone. These constraints were embraced as formative, anchoring the building to its context and history. In place of traditional clay roof tiles, the roof is composed of solar panels—an intentional appeal to stewardship and continuity—approved through dialogue with local authorities. The result is a building that feels simultaneously ancient and contemporary, shaped as much by light and land as by use.