Jorge Garibay Arquitectos Carves Two Concrete Volumes That Never Touch in Querétaro

There is something quietly radical about a house built around the principle of separation. At Lujambio House, Jorge Garibay Arquitectos positions two abstract concrete volumes so they approach each other, repeat each other's proportions, and yet never make contact. The gap between them is not leftover space; it is the organizing logic of the entire 452-square-meter residence in Juriquilla, a residential suburb north of Querétaro, Mexico. Into that gap the architects pour light, water, a young tree, and the daily life of a family.

What makes the project genuinely compelling is how it treats brutalist mass with a warmth that feels specifically Mexican. Board-formed concrete, tinted to a rose-gray hue and scored with horizontal striations, forms the primary structure. But nearly every interior surface is lined with timber paneling, turning what could be an austere monolith into something inviting and tactile. The tension between those two conditions, monolithic outside and warm inside, drives every design decision in the house.

The Courtyard as Connective Tissue

The two volumes frame an L-shaped courtyard organized around a shallow pool and a single young tree. It is the first thing you encounter upon entering: a hallway that terminates not in a room but in open sky, water, and greenery. The courtyard does double duty as a climate device and a spatial anchor, pulling cross-ventilation through the house while giving every major room a curated view inward rather than toward the street.

At dusk the pool becomes reflective, doubling the concrete walls and timber screens in its surface. The effect is that the void between the volumes reads as deeper and more spacious than its actual footprint suggests. It is a classic courtyard-house move, but the precision of the proportions and the restraint of the planting keep it from feeling generic.

Timber Corridors That Frame the Approach

The house's circulation corridors function as compression chambers. Narrow, timber-lined, and dimly lit, they funnel your gaze toward a single glazed opening at the far end. The technique is cinematic: you see the planted garden or the courtyard tree long before you reach it, and the passage amplifies the release of stepping into the open volume beyond.

Notice how the timber cladding runs floor to ceiling and wall to wall in these passages, erasing material transitions and creating a continuous warm envelope. The wood grain itself introduces a fine-grained texture that contrasts with the coarse horizontal striations of the concrete exterior, reinforcing the distinction between inside and outside.

Living Spaces That Dissolve the Threshold

The open-plan living and dining area on the ground floor is where the house's geometry pays off most clearly. Floor-to-ceiling glazing on two sides folds the courtyard into the room, and the concrete ceiling slab extends beyond the glass line to form an overhang that shades the interior from direct sun. The result is a living room that feels genuinely outdoor without suffering from glare or heat gain.

A recessed fireplace set into a vertical timber wall anchors one end of the room, while the opposite wall opens fully to a planted terrace. The material palette stays deliberately tight: timber, concrete, glass, and a few pieces of dark-toned furniture. There is no moment where the architecture competes with the view it has so carefully constructed. The restraint is the point.

Light as the Final Material

A single chair on a woven rug, caught in a parallelogram of afternoon sun: this is the image that reveals how carefully Garibay has calibrated the openings. The house uses a limited number of large, precisely placed windows rather than continuous glazing. Each one is sized and oriented to admit a specific quality of light at a specific time of day. The large square window at the stair landing, for instance, frames a garden view while pouring a column of light down the double-height volume.

The strategy avoids the common trap of glass houses that overheat or feel exposed. By alternating between solid concrete walls and generous openings, the architects create a rhythm of brightness and shadow that changes as you move through the house. Privacy, light control, and thermal comfort are resolved with one move rather than three.

Why This Project Matters

Lujambio House succeeds because it refuses to choose between brutalist discipline and domestic warmth. The board-formed concrete reads as honest, weighty, and rooted in Mexican building traditions, while the timber interiors and courtyard landscape make the house generous and inviting. That both conditions coexist without compromise is the real achievement here.

At a moment when residential architecture often oscillates between slick minimalism and performative complexity, Garibay's approach is refreshingly direct. Two volumes, three materials, one courtyard. The geometry is strict, the palette is limited, and the spatial experience is rich precisely because nothing is competing for attention. It is proof that constraint, not addition, remains the most powerful tool an architect has.

Lujambio House by Jorge Garibay Arquitectos, Juriquilla, Querétaro, Mexico. 452 m². Photography by César Belio.

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