It is accessed from a silent street with a wall as a horizon. There is a sort of sinking of the façade where an oblique door is situated. One enters in two steps into a cavernous, ceramic space and a double space opens up above in the form of a perimeter gallery like those of the old European bookshops.
At the back of the room is a zenithally lit space: the kitchen and a small dining room for breakfasts and coffees and winter readings fantasising about an itchy sun.
Then come the rooms: large, gigantic, like dwellings within dwellings, the private domains of those who live together: Virgina Woolf's "A Room of One's Own", the refuge of the shunning adolescent.
Finally, other apparently minor details that are never there: a bathroom with a window that opens onto the terrace, a staircase of improbable geometries and the wooden farmhouse that has been looking, for so many years, at an undefined point on some non-existent street.
Find out more about this house at this report broadcast in June 2011 on BTV's Connexió Barcelona programme.
