TEA HOUSE

Set on the edge of Sherbrooke forest, this minimal space offers a quiet, contemplative counterpoint to the urgency of the world beyond. A dark timber volume, charred using the traditional Japanese technique of Shou Sugi Ban, rises discreetly from the landscape. Its form is reductive and elemental. A single open aperture frames both interior and view, inviting presence and pause.

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The interior, sheltered yet porous, functions as a threshold between nature and enclosure. A solitary timber chair, carefully placed, speaks to a space designed not for spectacle but for stillness. The Tea House resists programmatic excess, instead becoming a vessel for light, shadow and solitude, an architecture of restraint that finds luxury in silence.

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This structure becomes less an object in the landscape and more a moment within it, responding to the dappled shifts of sun and the seasonal flux of flora. A temporary retreat. A permanent gesture. One that reminds us that architecture’s most powerful act is often to simply hold space for being.