The middle is empty on purpose.
Four wings, one void, and everything faces in
Courtyard houses · twelve · walled gardens
81 m² of private sky per house
The street sees nothing · the court sees everything
Four wings, one void, and everything faces in
Every house plan fights for more rooms. Ours gives the best square metres to no room at all — and every other room gets the garden, the light, and the sky in exchange.
The rooms serve the voidEvery room opens to the court and borrows its light from it. The corridor died; nobody misses it. You cross your garden to get to bed, which turns out to be the whole point.
Breakfast chases the sunMorning light lands on the east wing's long table first. By the second coffee it has moved to the court's far wall, and the day is officially open.
A wall to the street
isn't unfriendly.
It's how a garden gets quiet enough to hear.
One storey of pale brick to the lane, timber and glass to the court. Twelve houses shoulder to shoulder, each blind to its neighbours and wide open to its own patch of sky. The shared lane ends in a common green nobody had to sacrifice their court for.