Domus Barnaba was conceived as a work that reinterprets the grammar of sacred architecture to transfer its values to the plane of human and natural experience.
The sacredness here is not directed towards the transcendent but towards the present: it is offered by beauty, by nature that enters the building, and by hedonism as a conscious practice of pleasure and well-being in the here and now.
In a disenchanted age, architecture can still be a temple—but of a new, secular, sensual cult. Here, every daily gesture—sleeping, eating, touching, breathing—is elevated to a ritual. Pleasure is no longer guilt, but prayer.
The volumetric composition presents a compact appearance with a Gothic undertone, dominated and tempered by the typical graphemes of the Marche agricultural architecture. This is suddenly interrupted at its summit, enhancing the allure of the "unfinished," which, resembling that of the Ruins, gives architecture that fourth dimension: TIME.
The floor plan organizes the sequence like a secular procession.
Where the altar traditionally stands, the kitchen is located, a place of creation and materiality. Adjacent to it stands the main nave, the restaurant, a place of communion and tasting.
The underground rooms are arranged below ground level, a return-to-earth experience, with controlled lighting and a view of the horizon.
The completely underground spa occupies the heart of the building like a catacomb-refuge. Its dimly lit atmospheres, textured materials, and waterways evoke the protection and secrecy of monastic cellars.
The upper space, interrupted by the construction of the roof, opens onto a private roof garden with a 360-degree panoramic view. This is partially covered by a chaotic system of climbing plants and beams that bring the wildest greenery into the building, almost as if to recall the unfortunate earthquake of 2016 and the many, too many, works left abandoned to nature and the decay of time.
The architecture uses ancient and contemporary materials to convey continuity: structural wood for the trusses, local stone and brick, lime, and tactile surfaces.
The interruption of the wooden roof takes on the appearance of a controlled collapse: broken beams, vegetated openings, and floors that reconnect the interior and exterior, entrusted to the Harpo system.
The rooftop garden is a ritual element that renews the connection with the earth and the seasons, while the underground spaces evoke depth, repose, and collective memory.
Domus Barnaba is a project that overturns the paradigm: sacredness is no longer an otherworldly promise but a sensual and present experience.
Here, we seek present well-being, the joy of the senses, care for the body and nature.
The building is conceived as a sanctuary open to the world, a place where humans and plants coexist, celebrate, and regenerate.