From tradition to innovation

DM: When considering this boom, I believe it's quite subjective and not easily pinpointed to just one factor, but if I were to express something, it's that communication has vastly improved. Finding and connecting with architects today seems more accessible compared to 10 or 15 years ago, largely due to factors like social media or personal networks. Regarding the quality of architecture being built in Mexico, I attribute it to the influence of longstanding schools of architectural thought that have gained prominence over decades across various regions such as Monterrey, Guadalajara, the Yucatán Peninsula, and Mexico City. This evolution isn't spontaneous but rather a result of educational philosophies deeply rooted in these places. Furthermore, over the years, many architects have relocated to different cities and towns, spreading their knowledge and expertise, which has enriched places that previously may not have had a strong architectural foundation. This cultural and intellectual exchange has contributed significantly to the development and diversity of architectural practices throughout Mexico.

When we look at Monterrey today, it is a city deeply influenced by both its industrial roots and modern globalisation, particularly from the United States. Its industrial boom began in the early 1900's with the establishment of steel and glass factories alongside notable beer companies. Despite its industrial core, Monterrey has experienced significant economic growth, which is visible in the proliferation of towers, commercial spaces, private houses, and the expanding urban landscape. This growth, however, is gradually encroaching upon the diverse natural surroundings that Monterrey boasts, mountains, deserts, and forests—accessible within a short drive. The city's geographical diversity presents vast architectural opportunities. Monterrey's potential lies not only in its natural beauty but also in its expanding urban infrastructure. Yet, it's crucial to acknowledge the social dynamics within Monterrey, a society often characterised by its toughness and social hierarchies. Breaking into this social fabric can be challenging, especially for those advocating different approaches or values. Initially, establishing oneself and gaining recognition can be daunting, as societal perceptions and status play significant roles. However, with time and experience, individuals can become better known, paving the way for greater acceptance and influence. Despite its challenges, Monterrey offers a compelling blend of industrial history, economic opportunity, natural beauty, and architectural potential, making it an intriguing landscape for both growth and innovation in architecture.

Monterrey's architectural history is rich and complex, rooted in a vernacular style known as "arquitectura norestense" or northeastern architecture. This style traditionally used large blocks of earth or adobe for construction, reflecting the local materials and climate. Over time, this architectural language developed a distinctive aesthetic and functional approach adapted to the harsh conditions of the region. This vernacular style lost continuity, partly due to cultural attitudes and mindsets prevalent among the people of Monterrey. Reflecting on this history, there's a sense that Monterrey's architecture shifted towards more modern and utilitarian styles, akin to broader trends in Mexican architecture around the mid-20th century. The influence of materials and design elements from Monterrey can still be seen in contemporary Mexican architecture, but it has largely adopted a modern Mexican architectural style prevalent in other urban centres like Guadalajara and Mexico City. Today, defining a typical architectural style specific to Monterrey is challenging. The city's architectural identity appears more fluid and less defined compared to other Mexican cities. Looking ahead, there's potential for Monterrey to reexamine its architectural heritage and celebrate its unique regional characteristics. 

Roots and recognition

DM: Regarding my personal experience, I grew up in Mexico City until I was 16 years old. Then, I moved to Cancun for high school and later relocated to Monterrey where I attended Tecnologico Monterrey. After graduating, I moved back to Mexico City to work with Alberto Kalach for three years. However, I eventually returned to Monterrey to start my own practice. Despite growing up in Mexico City, my childhood involved frequent moves due to my father's work, fostering a nomadic lifestyle. This upbringing made me open to settling in Monterrey or potentially moving elsewhere. Ultimately, I chose Monterrey because when I decided to start my practice, I realised that while I had roots in Mexico City, I wasn't well-known professionally there. Monterrey offered a better opportunity as many people knew me, recognised my work ethic, and understood my approach to architecture. Interestingly, after about a year of establishing myself in Monterrey, my first project came from Tepoztlán, near Mexico City. It came about because the parents of a close friend wanted to build a weekend house, La Hacienda Jardín. Despite not having much independent experience at the time, they believed in me due to my passion and dedication. It felt like a nostalgic return, but it also highlighted the unpredictable nature of opportunities in my career journey. Setting that aside, what moving to Monterrey did was open doors for collaboration with people who knew me well and invited me to join various projects. Through these collaborations, I built relationships that eventually led to opportunities to work with my own clients and develop my portfolio. These early projects were instrumental in establishing my career and gaining the trust of clients.

Tectonic ties in architecture

DM: The design must resonate with its surroundings, fostering a dialogue between them. Let’s take for instance, Frank Lloyd Wright, a great American architect whose work was profoundly influenced by Japanese architecture. The environment communicates with you, and in response, you create architecture, whether in materiality, construction methods, or philosophically. 

Regarding Mexican architecture, I don't believe it fits neatly into today's categorisation, such as Guadalajara, Mexico City, Monterrey, or Cancun. Instead, it's more interconnected. A house in Mexico might reflect the region's tectonic plates, volcanoes, and local materials. Similar themes emerge in Guadalajara despite differing resources. On the coast in Cancun or Merida, where the climate varies, architectural considerations shift: shading, sunlight, and contextual responsiveness become paramount. Yet, while the architecture must respect and respond to its environment, using, say, orange concrete in Cancun, Mexico City, or Monterrey doesn't define it as a "Monterrey style" or a "Northern style". I might call it Mexican architecture instead. Whether this division helps or not, I don't think there's a robust way to distinctly separate one regional style from another. 

You can't defend something that doesn't exist, right? Maybe my critique of Monterrey is harsh, and naturally, architects from Guadalajara or Yucatán may not agree with what I'm saying. I think it's a critical way of thinking. I once heard Miquel Adrià, the director of Arquine,  talk about Mexican architecture, where he suggested that despite its quality and global recognition, it can feel repetitive. Theoretically, architects from Guadalajara or Yucatán might defend their regional styles, but in practice, it's challenging to assert because you can compare a house there with one here in Monterrey, and they might argue that we lack a distinct pedigree. 

Distinct designs, unique places

DM: I think there are two pillars to the way we think in our office. One is tangible, focusing on the things you can see and feel. In this dimension, you'll find the site, the location, the materials, and the elements that provide concrete answers. The other dimension is more subjective, focusing on experiences like the way one moves through a house. From the exterior, encountering an open space, a garden, or an unexpected surprise are the kind of emotional responses I value in our projects. Additionally, it's important for us to leave a place that is better than we found it. When we create something, we strive to ensure that when we depart, what we leave behind enhances the environment.

The concept of orderly thinking and organised implementation is paramount to me. When you examine the floor plan of any of our buildings, it exudes a sense of organisation and order. Spaces find their natural place within the structure, creating a flow that guides one through the building. Even when abstracted, the floor plan simplifies into a geometric response to the site. This is how we approach a site, adapting to the surroundings without needlessly altering them; instead, integrating them into the architecture's narrative. For instance, in Monterrey's mountainous terrain, if a site has a steep slope, the house design should acknowledge this feature. Often, houses are built on platforms atop slopes, supported by columns, with no structure beneath the platform. The house itself begins at street level and extends upwards, ensuring the site's characteristics are acknowledged and incorporated into the design. Whether it's the slope, topography, existing trees, or other elements, these should influence the building's form and presence, allowing it to truly belong to its environment.

One of our guiding principles is to ensure that each of our projects is distinctly unique and cannot be replicated elsewhere. This uniqueness stems from several factors: the specific location, the preferences and needs of our clients, and our evolving mindset and aspirations.

Sculpting nature into architecture

DM: Let me introduce you to two distinctive projects. The first one, La Hacienda Jardín, is situated in a suburban area within Tepoztlán, surrounded by a cluster of homes. Tepoztlán is renowned for the Tepozteco mountain, crowned with a pyramid and cascades during rainfall. Our challenge here was to create a sense of living on the mountain's edge, isolated from neighbours. We discovered that neighbouring homes typically used fences or barriers to delineate their boundaries. However, we aimed to achieve a more fluid, integrated approach, akin to a "corralito" or pinball boundary, adaptable and fluid. What I explained to the clients was our approach: "We're going to use these boundaries in a different way. Instead of just enclosing the site, why not let the house itself become the boundary?" This way, the house extends to the edges of the plot, embracing its own garden like a central patio. From this garden, one can frame views of the Tepozteco mountain without any visual intrusion from neighbours. The focus remains solely on what gives the place its value: the majestic Tepozteco mountain. This approach ensures the project is truly rooted in its location, enhances its surroundings, and remains unique, not to be replicated elsewhere.

There’s another project that expresses some of our main interests, it’s called “El Encino”. In this case, we undertook a housing project on a very steep slope of about 50% in Monterrey, near a mountain where the topography was rugged and dynamic. Previously, all the houses in the area were characterised by large, white boxes that seemed to cut into the terrain and dominate the landscape. These boxes stood isolated, detached from the natural surroundings. Our approach was the opposite. We took only half of the lot and positioned the house there. Instead of imposing another box-like structure, we designed terraces that followed the natural contours of the land. These terraces allowed the house to blend harmoniously with the slope and preserve the existing trees and landscape features. By integrating the natural elements into the design, the house became a part of the mountain environment. Even from inside the house, one could always feel connected to the outdoors, truly living within the mountain landscape. This design approach resonated with the client's desire to amplify and enhance the natural beauty of the site they had chosen. Rather than overshadowing it with a generic structure, we ensured that the house celebrated and integrated with its surroundings, enriching the experience of living within the mountainous terrain.

We are constantly refining our approach to problem-solving. Over the years, we've learned technical methods of construction and the evolution of architectural sensitivity. Sensibility is always present, but refining the technical execution, construction methods and structural solutions is where we focus our exploration of projects. Through experience, we've learned to reconsider space proportions; what might have seemed necessary as a 6x6 meters living room can often function just as well at 3x6 meters. Similarly, the fundamental elements of construction, such as columns, beams, slabs, or walls, remain constant, but our skill lies in how we deploy and integrate them. This continual refinement allows us to tackle familiar themes in new and innovative ways within each project, keeping our work both consistent and creatively fresh.

Blending expertise for innovation

DM: Most of our projects are houses, comprising about 60% of our workload. Additionally, we have experience with mixed-use buildings, such as large complexes that occupy significant city spaces. We've also worked on a unique typology, including a temple or church, which stands out from our typical residential projects. 

Where we are based is quite diverse, gathering interior designers, writers, construction professionals, and more. While we've recently moved in and haven't yet started collaborating extensively, the interactions and discussions with these diverse professionals are already proving to be stimulating. These conversations offer different perspectives and insights that can enrich our own ideas and approaches. Our team consists of five individuals: one handles administration, and the other three, four are architects, including myself. Our workflow is structured around two weekly meetings, held on Mondays and Thursdays, where we review ongoing projects, assess progress, and allocate time accordingly. When a new project comes in, I involve all three architects in client meetings and initial brainstorming sessions within the office. This collaborative approach allows us to draw on past experiences and innovations from other projects, shaping fresh ideas for each new endeavour. 

As projects evolve, each architect takes ownership of specific projects at different stages of development. This ensures that everyone is engaged in multiple projects simultaneously, with tasks ranging from initial design phases to managing construction processes. This overlap in project stages helps us maintain momentum and efficiency across our portfolio.