Glass Houses

by Alejandro Bahamón

Glass homes represent the intersection between the outdoor and the indoor—the public and the private. The results are breathtakingly sophisticated living spaces that provide a blank canvas for a wide array of styles and personalities.

Glass Houses takes you into the newest and most striking examples of this eternally modern style of home. Filled with exquisite photographs and detailed drawings, it showcases the recent works of contemporary architects and includes their commentary on this challenging architectural style. Glass Houses is an inspirational look at the most innovative ways of bringing the outside in.

Genres: Architecture

192 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2006

About the author

Alejandro Bahamón, an architect, photographer, and editor of architecture books, is the author of numerous publications on contemporary architecture, including Sketch Plan Build, The Magic of Tents, Treehouses, Glass Houses, Houses on the Edge, and (with Ana María Álvarez), Light Color Sound. He lives in Barcelona.

Reviews

[Petra X · Rating 4 out of 5]

I grew up in a glass house in a tiny village in Wales. It won the architect a prize. But it was the wrong building for the location. Imagine a split-level glass house across the road from a row of miners' cottages all of whom still had fireplaces with a hook for the kettle and a stone step for a saucepan? (I used to love going to my friend's for tea in the winter, sitting around the fire, the kettle almost always steaming and Welsh cakes with butter melting keeping hot on the stone step).

There were only 40 of us in the village. There were two roads, the one we all lived on with a 19thC pub at the bottom of the road, and a lane that lead from the meadows to a big old thatched farm cottage on our road. (The cows had been walking down that lane for close on 500 years, home for milking, out for grazing). And my parents build a house like that.

Can we say insensitive?

I left home at 17 for many reasons, not the least the last bus was 9.30 at night and that dropped me off a mile and a half way. No social life possible without parents ferrying me to and from dates. For a kid into sex n drugs n rock n roll (or at least a wannabee), it was a living death. It was time to get a passport and see the world.