The Copper House Sentosa, Singapore CSYA

On the waterside elevation of the house, a grassy berm provides privacy from the public walkway.

The ground floor plan shows the dynamic irregularity of the planning.

‘It has been quite a painful process. Not because of the client, but because of the design. There is not a single surface that is straight.’— Sonny Chan

This is a house which never stands still. Look at it from the front (the street), look at it from the back (the ocean promenade) or, indeed, from up on its surging green roof, and the house is in constant motion. There is no fixed point of view to tell us where this house begins and where it ends.

Inside, it is the same story, as the house constantly unfolds into something else in a kind of magical mystery tour, an Alice in Wonderland- type experience where nothing is what it seems.

Architect Sonny Chan says they set out to design a monolith and this is what it is. While there are multiple perspectives, they all combine to form a seamless unity.

The house is made from concrete, but dressed in a copper skin— which may be hot to the touch in the tropical heat, but it also has thermal properties which moderate heat penetration. It therefore collaborates with the high levels of cross-ventilation to minimize the need for air- conditioning.

The cross-ventilation is generated by the fact that the house is effectively just one room deep, since it wraps around an interior garden courtyard with only an operable glass louvred corridor separating the bedrooms on the ground floor from the internal court and, on the ocean side, with sliding glass doors connecting the bedrooms directly to the pool, the Jacuzzi and the garden.

The street entry to the house immediately signals the intriguing nature of the house.

The strategy was to optimize exposure to the sea breezes. Since the sea is ten metres away and then three metres beneath the promenade, it was decided to place all the bedrooms on the ground floor and the dining and entertainment spaces on the next level to enjoy not just the sea breezes but also the sweeping ocean views.

The things which promote natural ventilation also maximize natural light and lower dependency on artificial lighting. This is done in conjunction with the quirky sculptural character of the house. The eccentric faceted glass prisms which seem to have dropped randomly from the sky into the garden courtyard actually draw light down into the basement car park.

As the architects point out, the house ‘evolves’ from the ground floor up in a vortical fashion. This ultimately leads to the green rooftop which, from its access point, continues to climb by way of a spiral timber walkway to the summit, culminating in a timber terrace, ideal for cocktails at sunset. This roof, inspired by that of the Yokohama international passenger terminal, really does seem like the end of a journey which involves the house transforming from an opaque monolith (albeit with delicate perforations to the copper screen) through increasing transparency until at the summit it becomes one with the sea and the sky.

It celebrates this connection with a rolling green lawn that might be artificial grass but which nonetheless provides an additional insulating skin to assist with internal climate control.

In fact, the house is a journey—a vortical or spiralling progression which makes it simultaneously a horizontal and a vertical journey. This begins at the ground floor entry where one is immediately confronted by what Chan calls the pièce de résistance, the lift, which is housed in a science fiction-like sculptural pod of faceted bronze-coloured stainless steel.

This is the first example of many where the vorticist character of the journey through the house is also expressed in three dimensions—as with the irregularly shaped internal courtyard, the garden skylights, even the gabion retaining wall in the basement car park, which also reduces the need for cement.

The internal garden courtyard is completely irregular, including the sculptural glass prisms that draw light into the basement car park.

The section reveals how the house is every bit as dynamic vertically as it is horizontally.

The bedrooms along the waterside elevation each have direct access to the swimming pool and open up to sea breezes.

The lift is a sculptural object that blocks any immediate view into the house or beyond to the ocean view. The garden courtyard is glimpsed to the right, while beyond the lift core is the master bedroom and bathroom and a sitting room.

Although this is basically a weekender, not a permanent home, the children are given their own wing with its own entry and the bedrooms opening individually on to the glass louvred corridor. However, even the children enjoy amenities which Chan quips are ‘pretty luxe’. Their bedrooms open directly on to the pool, with bathrooms screened by translucent glass and benches of onyx marble, along with the aged- textured, wire-brushed oak wall finishes.

The eccentric sculptural bronze lift core inside the entry.

The master bedroom.

A wine storage unit forms an elegant room divider between the main living room and the dining area on the second floor.

The entertainment room on the second level.

The bathroom, spa and steam room have a ritualistic quality

The dining area on the second level has a breakfast bar and food preparation facilities.

Beyond the children’s bedrooms is a darkly handsome bathroom, spa and steam room adjacent to a massage room where the perforated copper skin casts a calming dappled light.

Upstairs is the dining room with an underlit onyx floor and the entertainment room, separated from the dining space by a powder room. This whole level opens up to the view and the sea breezes.

‘We try to tell our clients’, says Chan, ‘that you can live without air-conditioning.’ Like the other Sentosa houses which front the sea, this is certainly achievable in this house where there is a constant sea breeze to be captured. The shallow depth of the house, along with the permeability of generous opening glass windows and doors, ensures that the house is constantly ventilated.

The house is also a reminder, albeit on an opulent scale, that holiday houses play an important role in bringing families together. During the working week, everyone has something else to do. With a house designed to sustain family life, at the weekend or on holiday they can again become a family unit.

Finishes throughout are exquisite and varied.

The glazed corridor linking the children’s bedrooms looks into the central court.

The sculptural drama is exemplified by the staircase.

After the initial surprise of the lift core, there is another one as it descends, following the staircase, to the basement.

A small sitting room on the ground floor adjacent to the garden court.

The waterside elevation seen from the public walkway.

The textured copper skin wraps around the form of the house, with the reflecting glass feature window next to the entry providing the first of many surprises.