A house so natural that it blends into its surroundings

Perched atop an elongated plot of land in the municipality of Manacor, nestled between the green of a pine forest and a young carob grove, Ca'n Gallineta seems to want to hide, to blend into its surroundings. OAM Arquitectes, the Manacor-based studio of brothers Biel and Toni Oliver Galmés, have practiced discretion: a horizontal, low, serene architecture that doesn't seek to compete with its environment but rather to almost disappear. It's a house that, from a distance, might go unnoticed if one doesn't know it's there.

The choice to place all the living spaces on a single floor responds to a desire to complement the landscape, to climatic considerations, and also to optimal functionality. The building stretches east-west as if following the memory of an old country lane. As one approaches, the succession of porches and pergolas—with pillars repeated at precise intervals, like those simple stone aqueducts of the Mallorcan countryside—creates a tranquil rhythm. This shaded horizon protects from the sun, filters the light, and gives the facade a human touch.

The house is made up of different rectangular volumes that aren't perfectly aligned, as if each one were searching for its place. This subtle choreography of shifts creates setbacks and courtyards. It's a journey that isn't a straight line, but rather a leisurely one, inviting you to pause under a porch, sit gazing at the countryside, or discover how the wind circulates between two volumes. At Ca'n Gallineta, the exterior space is as important as the interior. Inside, the large, sloping, single-pitched roof envelops all the volumes. But this unity is broken—surely with the intention of making the staircase more inviting—by areas of the ceiling finished with delicate reed vaults. These act as false ceilings, yes, but they also create moments of intimacy, with softer light, natural texture, and complementary acoustics. The circulation spaces that run along the north facade, beneath these vaults, are more than just hallways: they accommodate work and study tables, shelves, closets, and other storage spaces. They are places to live, not just places to pass through.

At opposite ends of the house, two sleeping areas ensure privacy for parents and children. The main rooms face south, towards the landscape, and open onto their own porches that act as a transition between the house and the countryside. Inside, the continuous trispol flooring—as was traditionally done in country houses—connects all the rooms with the same subtly textured, brownish color, reinforcing the sense of material continuity that permeates everything. The facade cladding, a lime mortar made with soil from the same property, gives the house the same warm tone, which changes with the light.

In this exercise in sustainability, the roof is perhaps the most sustainable feature of all: it is insulated with Posidonia seagrass balls from the nearby coast. This material, as Mallorcan as the earth itself, breathes with surprising natural efficiency. It keeps the house cool in summer, retains heat in winter, and transforms the building into an organism that interacts with the climate without the need for elaborate intervention.

The garden completes this austere aesthetic. Minimal vegetation, with species that don't require much water; Felanitx gravel made from crushed ceramic fragments, recycled from construction waste, lends a subtle reddish hue to the ground. It's a landscape crafted with deliberate humility, enveloping this house designed for year-round living, for a family with two children. A home that is also a declaration of an architecture that celebrates the beauty of nature, the silence of simplicity, the importance of discreet yet ever-present details, and above all, the luxury that is always found in space.