Throughout the 20th century, architecture critics have given Chile short shrift, particularly when compared with Brazil. Without a Brasilia of its own, or the likes of an Oscar Niemayer or Lucio Costa, Chilean architecture’s presence on the international scene from the ’50s to the ’70s was limited to a few magazine appearances. Most covered the work of Emilio Duhart, a Chilean architect who designed the United Nations headquarters in Santiago (1961–1966). His firm and other major studios such as Sergio Larrain had a remarkable influence on Chilean culture as the state upped its participation in housing and urban development. As a major commissioner of architects and engineers, the state encouraged modern design—a clear sign of Chile’s changing political and social climate. Progressive architecture made those changes visible and local authorities soon realized it could be a powerful ideological tool. Architecture schools embraced modernist values and countless buildings were erected in the name of a new era.
With the coup of 1973 and the rise of Augusto Pinochet as military dictator, this process was stalled; with the fraught political situation, a small group of young Chilean architects moved to Europe. Democracy returned in 1989, as did many of those architects to teach and establish their practices. Teodoro Fernández, Fernando Pérez Oyarzun, and Rodrigo Pérez de Arce relocated to the Universidad Católica de Chile School of Architecture to become leaders in the local scene. Attracting talented, young students through a vision that linked the legacy of modernism, art, and craftsmanship with a fresh sense of local identity, their influence is essential to the latest architectural blossoming.
Now Chilean architecture follows in the footsteps of Duhart and his colleagues, though the client is no longer the state and smaller studios are producing the best work. By the early ’70s, Chilean society had accepted modern architecture as the party line, but today’s avant-garde is something more extraordinary.
Project: Rivo House
Architect: Pezo von Ellrichshausen Architects
Location: Valdivia, 2003
The first building by the Chilean-Argentinean practice of Pezo von Ellrichshausen Architects is located on the outskirts of the southern city of Valdivia, 520 miles from Santiago. It’s home to a couple that made the romantic decision to swap their townhouse in Santiago for a place to live and work in the middle of the rainforest.
The architects Mauricio Pezo and Sofia von Ellrichshausen liked the idea of the owners trading the city for the jungle, but they soon grew concerned, as they later wrote, about, “having two people spending the whole day all alone, without kids, and only in a few rooms.” They foresaw “possible boredom and weariness” as a threat. These perceived problems, however, eventually became keys to the design.
The idea was to create distance between spaces in the house, stimulating the encounters and near misses of the inhabitants. The interior space became a labyrinthine sequence composed of the vertical and horizontal axes. The house was conceived as a small but rambling interior to protect its inhabitants from routine. Large windows afford magisterial views of the nearby Cutipay River—encouraging an outward breath. The scheme also allows for two distant studios: his on the third floor and hers
in the basement.
Taking advantage of the local timber traditions, the entire house is made out of wood. This monomaterial strategy left the architects free to focus on fine-tuning the interior spaces instead of losing sleep over the vagaries of construction. The simple, minimal shape made for an inexpensive and easy-to-build design that cleverly incorporated the clients’ way of life.
Project: Copper House #2
Architect: Smiljan Radic Architect
Location: Talca, 2005
This family house is something like the Chilean real estate market’s ideal: located in the countryside of Talca, 160 miles south of Santiago, it’s a nearly 1800-square-foot structure on a large rural lot. The home’s three bedrooms and two baths are standard fare for Chile, and its price, $43 per square foot, is also decidedly average. The married owners, a university math professor and an actress, wanted a big garden and lots of space for their two children to play. On paper the house seems not so different from the neighbors’, but even the most cursory glance at the structure reveals its singularity.
Santiago-based architect Smiljan Radic designed a light, expansive framework that encloses a small central courtyard, which is integrated into the living areas through sliding glass panels. The shifting interior/exterior space succeeds in making the outdoors intimate and the indoors unusually versatile. Each wall is painted white to soften the boundaries into a flowing sequence of living areas. To further engage the surroundings, the courtyard and an exterior gallery face a nearby ravine.
The copper sheeting that covers the exterior of the house—from the roof surfaces to the exterior walls—is a knowing reference to the neighboring, largely faux-Spanish colonial, homes. This nod to Chile’s Spanish heritage, however, is anything but a postmodern flourish. Radic claims that, “The shape of the house and the texture of its copper surface relate to the heavy, sagging clay roofs of Chilean rural homes.” The architect goes on to explain the influence, “The deep overhangs, large continuous textures, and misshapen geometries are due—in equal parts—to earthquakes and a patchwork of fixes and additions.”
Project: Bremen Apartments
Architect: Cecilia Puga
Location: Santiago, 2004
Garden city communities in Chile’s central valleys were quite popular during the ’50s and ’60s, and most middle-class urban developments were designed according to a scheme that featured 40-foot-wide streets and 3,200–6,500-square-foot lots with a house set squarely in the middle. Santiago’s earliest suburbs adhered to this model, but with the remarkable urban expansion that hit the city in the ’80s—and has continued unabated—these old suburban neighborhoods are quickly becoming central, well-connected urban hubs. Given the demand for well-built infrastructure and accessible locations, the renovation of old garden city districts has recently generated a serious overcrowding problem and a number of new, none-too-appealing apartment buildings.
There are a few exceptions however, like this project by architect Cecilia Puga, who says, “I tried to follow the rules of the real estate market, operating within its codes, by introducing subtle variations such as a playful layout, an emphasis on collective areas and a discreet façade with a wholly modern shape.” The result is a 16-unit building that has replaced two large, centrally located houses on a busy public square.
Working within the confines of the urban apartment complex, Puga creatively customized the units—only four of the 16 layouts were duplicated, and all feature modern open-living plans. A large public roof terrace serves as an entrance hall and lookout for the upper units, while the ground floor is home to individual gardens and a public barbecue.
As the design aimed to use as few materials as possible, every superfluous element was eliminated and large public areas were incorporated without increasing costs. The use of exterior rough finishes and austere cast concrete contrasts nicely with the smooth, warm interiors. By staying true to the urban values of density and community without sacrificing outdoor space and heterogeneity, it seems—at least for Puga—that you can win playing by the rules.
Project: Quinta Monroy
Social Housing Architect: Elemental
Location: Iquique, 2005
Quinta Monroy is a recent housing project by Elemental—a “doing tank” (the think tank’s more active cousin, it seems) led by Alejandro Aravena that stands for an urban social mix and opposes gentrification. In an innovative proposal on social housing, Elemental sought to consolidate and renovate a shantytown located in the core of the northern city Iquique.
As part of a new program by the Chilean Ministry of Housing and Urbanism, owners receive $7,500 in state financial assistance for an approximately 320-square-foot house built on the same lot where they used to live, and then expand the house through additions and renovations.
Quinta Monroy doesn’t force poorer people out of downtown urban areas. The scheme developed by the architects creates a spacious but high-density complex that keeps the city center within reach of low-income residents. It was planned as a series of three-story blocks composed of ground-level units and two-story, second-floor duplexes, all of them directly accessible from the street. As a medium-sized development inserted into an existing neighborhood, it’s already well integrated into the city’s flow.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about Quinta Monroy is the inclusion of the residents into the design process and subsquent construction—a feat rarely attempted or accomplished. The construction was designed for a set group of around 100 families and the residents participated in a series of workshops, allowing them to choose whether they would live upstairs or downstairs, select what they wanted most from the four public courtyards, and suggest how to build the future additions—while still ensuring the integrity of the complex.
