Rhythms of Place

It could be argued that true wellness today begins when a building quietly synchronizes our rhythm with that of the place. Before the start of any spa or program, the body arrives: tired, hyperconnected, accustomed to screens, and incessantly crossing cities and airports. Traveling often does not end fatigue; it merely displaces it.

The landscape changes, but the energy remains high. Therefore, when designing hospitality, we must start with the moment of arrival, not with a to-do list. How do you breathe when you get out of the car or put down your suitcase? What is the first thing you see or hear? True well-being begins with the right balance between the guest's inner rhythm and the rhythm of the place. This balance can be found in the way the air circulates, the sounds that reach us, and the light that touches our faces. The project really begins with the idea of architecture that we feel before we think about it.

Unlike the standard, sterile hotel architecture of the last decade, driven by mass tourism, it is increasingly common when designing hotels to have a sense of specificity, connecting guests with their surroundings, whether nature, the city, or society. Low-impact interventions, projects that bring nature into the built environment, and restoration strategies are no longer just for show. They are signs of a major change: a desire for places that restore rather than consume, that care for the soil, water, and communities as much as they care for guests.

This article looks at that idea through two places and two projects: The Concave is a small hotel built into the cliffs of the Albanian Riviera. Monte das Obras is a former workers' residence in the Alentejo that has been transformed into a modern, rural hotel. They suggest that the most meaningful form of hospitality today is one in which architecture does not entertain us, but simply teaches us how to arrive.

In The Concave, on the Albanian coast, deceleration begins even before entering the building. Guests arrive “from above,” via an elevated road, reading the hotel as a fifth facade, almost as constructed topography. From there, the terrain itself imposes its rhythm. Curves, changes in level, and passages carved into the rock force the body to negotiate each transition, and to accept that the path will not be experienced in a straight line. The sound of the sea, the wind on the hillside, and the glint of water become design materials as important as concrete or stone.

At Monte das Obras, in the Alentejo, time slows down in another way. The rhythm is horizontal and begins in the old volumes of the workers’ residence: low, white bodies arranged around a sequence of courtyards that define shaded corners for meeting and working. Hospitality is born from this inherited structure, from the continuity of everyday spaces aligned with the topography of the estate. From there, the new hotel wing does not seek to compete with what already exists. It stretches as a continuous, semi-buried line that follows the hillside, reading more as landscape than as object. The path between the buildings was designed to be slow.

In both projects, materials and environmental strategies show this idea of care. The old part of the building is whitewashed and has a pitched roof, which is typical of the Alentejo farmhouses in the area. This is a reminder of the hard work of the farmers who lived there. The new part of the building is more earthy, with its semi-buried body blending in with the walls, terraces, and plants. In The Concave, the building's mineral mass extends the existing rock formations, as if the hotel had been carved out of the cliff itself. The design of these places focuses on solar control, natural ventilation, water management, preserving existing vegetation, and rehabilitating structures instead of demolishing them. These design conditions make the places restorative.

By connecting Monte das Obras with the estate's productive landscape, the project creates an environment that respects and builds on the area's history. In Albania, The Concave is a project that is changing a beachfront. The design of the complex and its connection to the beach help to create a coastal identity that is more in harmony with its surroundings.

Maybe the question should be not only how hotels can promote wellness, but also how they can interact with and learn from their surroundings. If true wellness begins when a building's rhythm aligns with its environment, architecture becomes more than just an integral part of the experience; it becomes a sensitive layer that connects people, places, and time. Both projects attempt to answer the same question in different ways: how can a building welcome its visitors and the territory that houses it, leaving behind not a mark of consumption, but a gentle and lasting mark of care?

Main image: The Concave, Llamani Beach, Albania, 2024, OODA. Image © Plomp