Home tour: a closer look at the Schmid family residence, rooted in harmony

Every detail of the Intsia house, named after the street it stands on, is created with intentionality in mind to suit the needs of a multi-generational, multinational family. Gabriel’s father had one non-negotiable: the house should sit within a garden—not the other way around. That request became one of the cornerstones of the home’s design process. This required the architecture to occupy as little of the land as possible, mimicking the feeling of living inside a tropical forest, with its lush greenery and natural tranquility. Moreover, the living spaces had to be on the second floor. “He had always loved the idea of being elevated, surrounded by trees, with the hopeful possibility of spotting his first Philippine scops owl,” Gabriel says. His father also preferred the bedrooms to be small and simple, giving way to generous, open spaces for gathering. “Lastly, and most importantly, the house had to be durable.”

Drawing from his father’s specifications, Gabriel then translated these principles into form. The architectural designer shares, “I wasn’t interested in applying traditional aesthetics as a visual motif. Instead, I focused on understanding the logic behind Philippine architecture—natural ventilation, raised living spaces, shaded thresholds and the use of materials that age well in the climate while honouring local craftsmanship.” 

The most notable exterior feature of the home is the overall massing, which Gabriel elaborates as a grounded, heavy base supporting an elevated, airy upper volume. “This contrast embodies a central idea behind the project—living among the trees, above the noise and humidity, where light, breeze and privacy meet,” he says, much like the bahay kubo, a traditional Filipino house that is typically elevated from the ground. “It’s a strategy rooted in traditional Filipino architecture, but reinterpreted for contemporary life.”

The lanai is more than just an entry point, but a climatic and social device. “The central void that appears to be a small tunnel is designed to allow cars to pass through while also facilitating airflow and daylight. This void subtly divides the lower level of the abode into two wings,” he says. This central tunnel allows the owners to be dropped off at the heart of the house, an advantage for the elderly. “Architecturally, it offers a clear and sculptural moment of arrival. Visitors are gently guided through this transitional space, with framed views of the garden and glimpses of the upper volume.” Gabriel adds that the tunnel extends the threshold between outside and inside. “It creates a moment of pause, allowing one to experience the home’s materiality, proportions and landscape before even entering the front door,” he says.

In terms of materials, the lower façade is clad in lahar-infused concrete bricks, cast on site using custom moulds. “Each brick was intentionally broken in half, exposing the rough inner texture, and laid with the fractured face outward,” says Gabriel, explaining that this method created a unique surface across the ground level, describing it as “irregular, tactile and deeply expressive”. No two bricks are alike, resulting in a façade that embraces unpredictability and variation. “It echoes the raw materiality of the land it sits on,” he adds. 

With a tropical climate like the Philippines, ventilation is essential. Hence, the decision was made to use a split roof, a design feature that allows hot air to escape, enhancing airflow and giving the architecture a sense of lift. Full-height windows and generous overhangs complement the split roof to help the house breathe and extend the living space outward into the garden.

The home’s interiors are as interesting as the exteriors, with the defining feature being the expansive open-plan living space on the upper floor. Inspired by the Filipino bulwagan or central hall used for gathering, the space flows fluidly from end to end, making it a seamless area that encourages interaction from living to dining and the kitchen. “Rather than dividing the space with walls, we allowed furniture, light and material shifts to define different zones and uses. This openness supports the way our family lives and entertains, while also allowing the space to adapt over time,” the young designer says. 

Flexibility is also vital for the owners. For example, sliding partitions and operable woven screens in the kitchen and bedrooms allow spaces to expand or contract depending on their needs. “When opened, they create uninterrupted volumes for hosting. When closed, they offer quiet, intimate retreats. This ability to shift between modes of living reflects our family’s need for both togetherness and privacy,” Gabriel tells Tatler.

One of the most striking features on the upper level is the cylindrical powder room that appears to be standing pretty at the heart of the living space. Clad in bamboo laminate, it helps to organise the space without disrupting flow. “It introduces a softer geometry and adds a sense of texture and material warmth.”

A restrained and tactile palette is used to create a calm and flexible environment. This includes dark wood flooring, handcrafted joinery, woven textures and the soft daylight that filters through copper screens. 

Furthermore, Gabriel shares that the 1000sqm house, while it has the luxury of space,  avoids the usual programmatic checklist of luxury. “There’s no theatre, spa or oversized rooms. Instead, it finds luxury in qualities that are often overlooked: natural light, cross-ventilation, spatial flexibility and meaningful connections between indoors and out,” he says. “These are the elements that make daily life feel generous, not the number of rooms.”

NOW READ

Design for all: IKEA takes us into the world of “democratic design”

Ode to Earth: Inside the family farmhouse of the architect Gelo Mañosa in Calatagan

The ultimate bucket list for discerning coffee lovers: 9 best travel destinations to visit