How Architecture Can Coexist With Nature
Extensions of natural settings that complement—rather than compete with—their environments. What I learned from Italian-Canadian artist Carlo Rinomato.
In the remote corners of Northern Ontario and its endless lakes, one lake sits at the lower end of a brushy hillside that flanks a house. This house—which I currently call my home—is outdated. It’s the central piece of a picturesque setting with untapped potential: The house itself hardly offers a view of its surroundings, instead shutting itself out but for a select few, inadequately sized windows. It crushes that innate desire, common among cottagers, to simultaneously feel immersed in the outdoors while remaining sheltered from it. Satisfying this desire requires balance. And while a traditional log cabin may invoke a sense of nearness to nature, there exist modern alternatives that further narrow the gap between the home and its setting. In the case of Italian-Canadian artist Carlo Rinomato, inspiration for his sleek homes comes from an unlikely source: Buddhist temples.
Emphasis is placed on complementing — not competing with — the scenery.
He may not be designing places of worship, nor is he adhering to the architectural sensibilities of the religion, but Rinomato’s homes strive to open themselves up to their surroundings in ways reminiscent of temples throughout Asia. Natural light is welcomed into the living space of his “Glass House” chalet, offering an unobstructed view of Québec’s Laurentian Mountains. Though Buddhist temples may not afford their visitors such enveloping indoor sunlight, emphasis is often placed on complementing—not competing with—the scenery. After all, it is the natural beauty of the location that ultimately gave rise to these structures, whether it be in the valleys of Bhutan or the rolling hills of Mont-Tremblant.
A stone’s throw away, in Lac-Supérieur, Rinomato’s Refuge Du Sommet chalets sit in a modest-yet-striking fashion. They are understated in their height and hue, opting instead to allow their impressive shape and texture to leave a grand impression worthy of the mountainsides they sit atop of. Where these structures echo the aims of ancient temples is in their total reverence for the auspicious and panoramic views in the distance without a need to overpower or entirely reshape the immediate setting. The hilltops upon which these homes are located have been minimally altered, demonstrating a great respect for the neighbouring forest.
Rinomato envisions his works as manmade extensions of their settings, built not to replace nature, but coexist with it.
As suggested by the names of multiple projects of his (“House of the Hill,” “House of the Woods”), Rinomato envisions his works as manmade extensions of their settings, built not to replace nature, but coexist with it. This philosophy precedes him both in the spirit of Frank Lloyd Wright, as well as the timeless structures of Buddhist worship. His dedication to complementing the backdrops that draw people such as myself out to more remote regions has me intrigued to see what he will create next, and where else in his home of Canada he will look to give the Buddhist-temple treatment. I can think of a certain picturesque location in Northern Ontario, mere metres away from one of the region’s endless lakes, perhaps waiting for a house of the lake.
