Experimental

In a former abandoned office space, now transformed into a minimal studio, lives a firefighter.

The space, once compartmentalized and blind, was reduced to the essential — a white platform for living, a continuous wooden cabinet for storage, a light kitchen that seems to float at the center.

During the renovation, a quiet discovery: while demolishing a thick wall, half of a forgotten window emerged, hidden for decades by improvisation. Now, the space lives between two openings — one original, one revealed — and the light, once timid, now crosses the home from end to end.

It is there that the firefighter arrives after long shifts. He washes his face, folds his uniform, rests his body. The studio isn’t large, but it has everything: silence, order, light. Traces of the space’s former use remain visible — cutouts in the plaster, non-functional outlets, shadows on the walls — and are now part of the home’s material.

The city he protects is outside, but inside this clear and contained space, he finds a pause.

A place for observation and rest. A shelter.