Can Ressol: A House That Thinks Before It Speaks.

Essential textures, emotional architecture and a return to origin in the pine-covered heart of Ibiza.

Inspired by the work of Sert, J&oslash;rn Utzon and Brooner, the home designed by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/rodrigo_izquierdo_studio/">Rodrigo </a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/rodrigo_izquierdo_studio/">Izquierdo</a> is more than a personal project &ndash; it is a manifesto. Tucked away in a pristine stretch of pine forest near Santa Gertrudis, this reinterpretation of a 1980s rural house distils his aesthetic language, his connection to <a href="https://www.lofficielibiza.com/ibiza/victoria-durrer-gasse-ibiza-interior-galeria-elefante">Ibiza</a>, and a particular moment in life where what&rsquo;s essential quietly takes centre stage.

"The house speaks softly, but with intention."

&ldquo;Built from elemental materials &ndash; compacted stone, raw concrete, friss&eacute; Tanganyika
wood panels, Ibizan white marble, and lime stucco &ndash; and shaped by the delicate
intervention of landscape designer Flavio Pollano, the house breathes in sync with
the surrounding forest. It watches. It filters light. It accompanies. Above all, it stands
as a deeply personal reflection on what it means to inhabit Ibiza &ndash; thoughtfully, fully,
and on one&rsquo;s own terms.
Building this house in Ibiza felt like a quiet declaration &ndash; a moment to create
something purely for myself, not tied to a brief or a client&rsquo;s vision, but as a personal
manifesto. After years of designing for others, I wanted to slow down, to reconnect
with something essential.

Ibiza has always offered me that space &ndash; the stillness to breathe, to think. This
project became a way to anchor myself, to be fully present with the land, the light,
the silence. It was less about building a house, and more about creating a rhythm I
could live by.
The house speaks softly, but with intention. I was deeply drawn to the spirit of 1960s
Mediterranean architecture &ndash; that honest clarity where form follows function.
 The works of Sert and Utzon were constant references, not just in structure, but in
sensibility.
But beyond theory, it was an emotional process. The light filtering through pine trees.
The weight of silence. The textures of raw materials. I wanted to create a home that
felt rooted &ndash; not imposed. Something that belonged to the island, that breathed with
 Quiet, essential, and above all, honest.

&ldquo;I wanted to create a home that felt rooted &ndash; not imposed.&rdquo;

The original house had a certain honesty &ndash; a rural simplicity I wanted to preserve.
But it felt closed off, both physically and emotionally. My intention wasn&rsquo;t to erase it,
but to open it up. To let it breathe.
I worked with compacted stone, raw wood, lime stucco &ndash; materials that speak softly
but clearly. The transformation wasn&rsquo;t just structural; it was atmospheric. Now, the
house opens to the light, the forest, the rhythm of its surroundings. It&rsquo;s still a country
home, but one in conversation with the land that holds it.
Flavio&rsquo;s intervention was both precise and poetic &ndash; subtle in gesture, but deeply
grounded in respect for the place. He worked with native Mediterranean species that 
feel like they&rsquo;ve always been there. Nothing ornamental, nothing imposed.
 Just quiet continuity.

The idea was never to frame nature, but to let it move freely,&nbsp;to erase the line
between built and grown. The result is a garden that doesn&rsquo;t compete, but
completes. It feels inevitable, as if the house had simply emerged from the forest
floor, rather than being constructed over it.
For me, this house is about restraint &ndash; and about quiet. There&rsquo;s a kind of luxury that
has nothing to do with spectacle. It lives in the silence of a space, in a wall that
retains the warmth of the sun, in materials allowed to remain raw and true. 
I didn&rsquo;t want to build something that demands attention. I wanted to create something
that simply exists, that feels real. There&rsquo;s a quiet dignity in that &ndash; in not trying to
impress, just to be. That, to me, is the most honest form of architecture.
Designing for yourself is revealing. It strips everything down. There&rsquo;s no client to
please, no brief to interpret &ndash; just your own needs, your own rhythm. And that
demands honesty.
This process changed me. It made me listen more, simplify more. It reminded me
that design &ndash; real design &ndash; doesn&rsquo;t start with a concept. It starts with emotion. With
how you want to feel when you walk into a room. This house gave me that clarity.
And I carry it with me into every project since.
Luxury, to me, is time. It&rsquo;s light. It&rsquo;s silence. It&rsquo;s waking up to the sound of wind
moving through the pines. It&rsquo;s not about accumulation &ndash; it&rsquo;s about subtraction. Less,
but better.
Real luxury is space: space to think, to breathe, to move at your own rhythm. It&rsquo;s that
rare feeling of being fully at home &ndash; not just in a place, but in yourself. That&rsquo;s the kind
of richness I wanted to build here.&rdquo;

&ldquo;Real luxury is space: space to think, to breathe, to move at your own rhythm.&rdquo;

En Casa de: Rodrigo Izquierdo

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