the philippine house
goes tropical modern
Modern residential architecture in tropical Asia generally and in the Philippines in particular is going through a fascinating phase of architectural evolution. Stylish new homes in Metropolitan Manila, the capital of the Philippines, and sultry waterside locations scattered around the archipelago's 7000 tropical islands, are providing plush living spaces for increasingly affluent Filipinos. These new houses have sparked a renaissance in residential architecture that is not only changing the Philippine suburban landscape but is also providing fodder for the imagination in international publications, pointing to a nascent design trend: "Tropical modern" is becoming the new modern.
Philippine "tropical modern" is characterized by residential designs that are distinctive in their use of mutable space, sensual local materials, and functional accommodation of hybrid East—West lifestyles. Echoing a pan-Asian trend and a larger trajectory for architectural development in tropical-belt countries, spaces in these homes show creative configurations of often-minimal spaces. Filipino architects and designers are also offering fresh approaches in the use of materials and architectural elements that cater to both the changing cosmopolitan tastes of an ever more discerning Filipino elite and the aspirations of a progressive, budget-conscious middle class. Tropical modern design is affordably "cool."
"Cool" means more than fashionable façades and hip interiors. It includes environmental friendliness. In their search for this, Filipino architects are constantly experimenting with new materials and techniques or rediscovering almost-forgotten materials and traditional arts and crafts expertise. Cross-ventilation, sun screens, wide eaves, raised floors, and sensitive solar orientation—devices long used in local vernacular architecture, perhaps unknowingly—are now given a contemporary twist with the use of steel instead of bamboo, concrete and fiberboard instead of woven mats, glass and plastics instead of capiz shells. These older vernacular materials are not being discarded but are instead being processed in new ways with lamination, machine weaving, heat tempering and shaping to produce attractive building materials. Passive cooling, solar power, recycled gray water, and ventilated roofs are being rationally employed in house designs. Tropical modern is not only architecturally "modern" and affordably "cool," it is also "green."
"Bellavista," the modernist house of Eirvin and Josephine Knox (page 44), casts long afternoon shadows and a trajectory for design development. Architect Ed Calma offers creative configurations of minimalist spaces, using cubist elements that cater to the changing cosmopolitan tastes of a discerning Filipino elite.
The glamorous residence of Gunn and Cris Roque (page 26) is characterized by fluid lines and Art Deco notions, plus the unifying element of wide narra stairs cascading like rice terraces down through the house. Designer Budji Layug demonstrates here his "Tropical Modern" philosophy.
Cultural color is another big factor in the designs of these tropical modern homes. The interiors and exteriors address, both spatially and socially, the lifestyles that Filipinos (as well as many other Asians elsewhere), have grown to know and enjoy. Modern Filipinos adopt Western life, work, and leisure styles to fit cultural norms and social nuances. The demands of the extended family, the need to frequently entertain during the Philippines' numerous festive occasions, the projection of social standing and roles in the community, and the concept of hiyá (face) are intertwined with Western or modern practicalities such as the acceptance of home/office setups, a reduced dependence on domestic help, and the advent of two-career households, multiple-vehicle garages, and modern communications technology. Tropical modern merges cyberspace with traditional cultural space, at the same time retaining the best of both.
The single most important factor, however, that differentiates one tropical modern Philippine home from another relates to site—and the Filipino architects' response to this. Whether the site is a sprawling suburban lot, a small urban core, or an idyllic resort locale well away from Metropolitan Manila with a romantic name like Punta Fuego or Calatagan, the final design of a house is influenced by the site: its size, the limitations imposed by its shape and topography, its location in relation to neighboring sites, its solar and wind orientation, its exposure to seasonal rains, the ease of its access, its potential for views, and its overall visual impact.
Regardless of variations in site, the thrust of this new architectural movement is largely expressed in the styles and themes that consistently recur in Philippine interior design. In contrast to the traditional modernist absence of edge treatments, a leitmotif common to many of the houses shown in this book, notably those designed by Ramon Antonio, Francisco Mañosa, and Andy Locsin, is the use of stained wood frames for openings, thresholds, windows, and cabinetwork. Mostly made of Philippine hardwoods such as narra, molave, and tanguile, these frames provide a welcome contrast to classic modernist white or light-colored interiors. Another constant is the use of bright colors as accents or overall treatments in large areas (in the manner of modernist Mexican architect Luis Barragan) without diluting the essence and lines of the architectural design. Houses designed by Milo Vasquez, Joey Yupangco, Benji Reyes, and Marta Pedrosa exhibit this chromatic tendency, albeit in different color choices and combinations—leaning toward warmer but still colorful tones.
Within these houses and their framed spaces, the renaissance that has occurred in Philippine furniture design is showcased. A new generation of multitalented Filipino furniture and industrial designers, as well