The Most Elaborate Part of the House Is Invisible

A house that promises tranquillity must do one thing above all: work without anyone thinking about it. Most of what went into the conversion therefore lies behind walls, beneath plaster and on the roof, where you will never look.

The roof does not carry conventional photovoltaics but a PVT system: the same modules that generate electricity also give off heat, which we put to further use. One roof, two yields, and because the heat is removed, the modules work better in summer than conventional panels.

Surplus electricity is not sold but used: immersion heaters turn it into hot water, while a battery carries the remainder through the night. If there is still a surplus after that, it goes into the panoramic pool.

When the water is heated, when the battery charges and when the cars at the charging point take their turn: a load-management system makes these decisions continuously and shifts consumption to periods when the sun is shining. You will notice none of it, except that nothing ever gets stuck.

Before any system can do its job, the house must be airtight. The existing building is therefore fully insulated and the windows are fitted with triple insulating glass. The shading lowers automatically before the sun heats the rooms; you need do nothing and will usually not even notice it.

Cooling comes from a highly efficient central system rather than twenty-two individual units. It saves energy and, above all, noise: there is no box switching on outside the window at night.

The park is the house’s largest room, and its thirstiest. It is watered from cisterns that collect what falls from the sky anyway. Drinking water is for drinking.

Nothing, if all goes well. You arrive and there is no bunch of keys: a code or your card opens the door. The suite knows your preferred temperature, and the lighting follows the time of day. That is the whole point of the effort: a quiet house.