In this context, the project undertaken by architect Raúl Sánchez encompasses the renovation of three spaces—the entrance hall, the dining room, and the pirate room, listed as a heritage site—highlighting the original pieces that are still preserved. The addition of a perimeter baseboard in stainless steel unifies the entire intervention in the room, resolving the workspaces, sofa area, and closets. The original wallpapers are carefully preserved, while the family paintings are returned to their original locations. Stripped of installations and cables, the polychrome ceiling regains its prominence, and beneath it, the original terracotta floor is restored and treated to prevent its ongoing deterioration.
The project is completed by the dining room, which incorporates new dark oak flooring, matching the original wainscoting, and the entrance hall, which, after being cleared of unnecessary additions, stands out as a vibrant space that precedes access to a special area.
Like a logbook that records the passage of years, in a small space, the project harmoniously combines a multiplicity of material and historical layers: records of the past, heritage elements are combined with a series of finishes, encounters, furniture and artistic pieces, resulting in an eclectic home that responds to contemporary domestic needs.
The Pirate's House by Raúl Sánchez. Photograph by José Hevia.
Project description by Raúl Sánchez
In 1820, at just 18 years old, Antoni Cuyàs, originally from Mataró, set sail for Argentina with little more than a basic knowledge of navigation. Not many years later, after a meteoric rise, he was already the most feared privateer by Brazilian ships, which, according to contemporary accounts, rarely escaped Antoni's cannon fire. Having amassed a huge fortune while still very young, he left his career at sea and forged personal and financial friendships with the country's ruling classes, becoming a regular advisor to the presidents of the time. After an unhappy marriage that produced no children, and wanting to spend his final days in his native Mataró, he returned in 1865.
There, he bought two houses on the Rambla, joined them together, and commissioned Italian artists working in the area to design a house for him in the style of the palaces he had frequented in Argentina. Towards the end of his life, he met an orphaned boy with his same surname and decided to adopt him, making him his sole heir. Several generations followed (artists, writers, bon vivants…), and over the years the house suffered a turbulent fate, being stripped of its most valuable items, although the Cuyás family managed to retain it.
Now, in 2023, Manuel Cuyás, the pirate's great-great-grandson, along with his wife Nuria (Argentine, as fate would have it), a designer and editor, tired of living in spaces anchored in a distorted past that didn't suit their work routine (they both work from home), decided to undertake the renovation of the three spaces that still retained original elements: the entrance hall, the dining room, and the pirate's room, a listed heritage site. The requirements were simple: to be able to enjoy all the spaces, to use the living room as both a lounge and a workspace, the dining room only for meals, and to give the entrance hall a sense of place within the whole. And to restore some of the much-maligned grandeur the house once possessed.
A large stainless steel plinth (an essential material for pirates) is anchored around the entire perimeter of the room, defining the workspaces, sofa area, and closets, establishing a continuous material throughout the space that materially unifies the entire intervention. Above, the original wallpapers are preserved, the family paintings are restored to their places, and the polychrome ceiling once again presides over the room, now free of installations and cables. Below, the original terracotta floor is restored and treated to prevent its constant disintegration through a complex resin and consolidation process. The more common, non-original tiles are removed from the perimeter to facilitate the passage of all the installations, which will then be concealed above the steel plinth.
This perimeter frame is finished with a highly flexible micro-mortar, capable of adapting to the movements of a very old structure. The cracks in the ceiling and walls, the imperfections in the wallpaper and flooring, are left as they are: there's no intention of injecting Botox. Even the conduits for the electrical wiring to the wall lights are left unfinished and untouched: we find beauty in the passage of time and in continuous transformation.
The relationship between the painting of the pirate, now older, brandishing his sword (which is kept in the entrance hall), and the mirror opposite it, is maintained: the painting remains in its place, and in place of the mirror, a large mirrored cabinet has been designed, concealing a glossy yellow lacquered wood interior (housing an enormous television), matching the custom-designed coffee table.
The dining room features new dark oak flooring, matching the original wainscoting, contrasted by the original green tiles that finish it off; and the foyer is cleared of additions and exposed installations, highlighting its character as the entrance to a special place, restoring rich, strong colors on both walls and floors.
This small but ambitious project allowed for the design of elements at every scale: stainless steel trims, joints, and details; natural stone knobs embedded in steel drawers; the iron fireplace surround that complements the reclaimed triangular tiles; the perimeter lighting of the polychrome ceiling; the large stainless steel shelving unit for the extensive book collection; the arrangement of the beautiful art and ceramic collection on walls and shelves; the placement and type of mechanisms, radiators, handles, light fixtures, fabrics, and curtain rods; and the choice of the imposing high-gloss lacquered table by Carlo Scarpa.
Now the room is even climate-controlled, although it's hard to guess where. The considerable technical complexity of the renovation has given way to the room regaining its former splendor, not as a museum piece anchored in an idealized past that, more often than not, never existed, but as a space that acknowledges its past and history and brings them into the present.
