In the grounds of James's house, a former quarry has spent more than a hundred years quietly becoming a garden oasis. Stone gave way to moss, walls to ivy, and rough excavated faces to shade, water, and birdsong.
This small building sits there like a pause in a long sentence: a drinks room for conversation, a sauna for silence, both held within the memory of the quarry.
The architecture tries not to win the argument with the landscape. It leans into the slope, respects the tree line, and allows the old stone to remain the loudest voice.
Inside, the drinks room is warm and social: timber, low light, and a view that opens to green depth. Next door, the sauna becomes a denser atmosphere - heat, quiet, breath, and the scent of wood.
The project is less about spectacle and more about ritual: arriving down a path, shedding the day, sharing a drink, stepping into steam, and returning to the night air changed by a few degrees and a little stillness.
In a place once carved out by force, the ambition now is gentler: to add a room that feels inevitable, as if it had always been waiting for this exact corner of the quarry to call it into being.
