“Beyond the visible is the invisible; beyond the tangible is the dream” – Hellen Keller

Morning light falls in fragments, slipping through a timber veil. The sound of passing cars drifts into a softened hush. Across the street, a sweep of mature garden breathes. Living spaces lifted to meet the line of sight. Here, the house listens before it speaks.

A delicate lattice skin wraps front and rear in a measured rhythm of shadow and light. Neither wall nor window, it is an inhabited threshold, an in-between space where air, view and sunlight are sieved into deliberate patterns. It slows the eye, softens the day, and draws the outside world into a slower cadence.

More than enclosure, the lattice envelope is a medium. A lens of the perceiver, not of glass, but of wood and air. Through it, the garden is not merely seen, but framed, composed, momentarily held. A single aperture cut into this veil opens to the green beyond, undisturbed and exact in proportion, treating the view as a still frame. Openings whether a cut into the lattice, or shaped as deep bay windows frame rather than expose, so the house reveals itself in measured sequences, never all at once.

Beyond the screen, lives unfold within. In response to the green beyond, the living room is elevated onto the second storey, aligning the horizon of trees and a slip of sky precisely at eye level. Beyond the lattice, the garden lies. Not as backdrop, but as constant companion. It is a slow unfolding, layer by layer, gradually as one ascends. Organised in ascending layers, the house unfolds from grounded service spaces to elevated semi-private living level, to private family retreats, and a roof terrace with undisturbed views. Each level carries its own dialogue with the green; sometimes direct, sometimes filtered, sometimes only implied. This is a vertical choreography of life, ascending, returning, always looking outward and inward.

From the street, the lattice frames the house as softened silhouette. From the garden, in retrospect, it frames the architecture. The living room extends toward the landscape, while above, the master suite continues the dialogue in quieter tones, linked to the living space below through a double-volume elevated courtyard. Here, moments are framed. Children at play on the courtyard garden, parents overlooking from the master suite or living room, or a stillness of contemplation, a book being read in the filtered light. The lattice straddles between presence and pause, its timber veil framing not only what is seen, but shaping the space in which to feel it.

Materials are kept natural; timber, concrete and stone, blending with the surrounding green. The passing of light, the drift of breeze, and the slow turn of the day become the true palette. This is the ethos of the house: not to overwhelm, but to distill. Not to enclose, but to offer. To create spaces not just for living, but for lingering, in filtered light, in framed quiet, beyond the lattice.

“Peace is always beautiful.” – Walt Whitman

How do you create an oasis of calm and visual retreat on the threshold of a busy city road? Hiding In Plain Sight House begins with this paradox. It is neither an exercise in concealment nor a statement of overt display. Instead, it seeks a quiet balance—crafting a home that is deeply aware of its urban surroundings while carefully shaping what is seen, heard, and experienced. Rather than turning away from the city, it gently filters and reframes it, creating a sanctuary of calm amidst the energy beyond.

The house is sited alongside a major urban artery in the eastern part of the city, where the constant flow of traffic defines both the character and challenges of the environment. Rather than resisting these conditions, the design embraces them as a framework for spatial and architectural strategies.

Planning regulations require a significant setback from the road, effectively reducing the buildable footprint. What might be perceived as a constraint is reinterpreted as an opportunity. The house withdraws deliberately from the edge, creating a deep forecourt that acts as a buffer—absorbing noise, filtering views, and establishing a measured transition between the public realm and the domestic interior.

Privacy is negotiated through layers rather than barriers. Along the boundary, a dense wall of trees forms the first line of defence, softening the visual and acoustic impact of the road. This green edge creates a psychological threshold, allowing the ground floor living spaces, garden, and pool to remain open yet protected. The architecture does not turn its back on the street; instead, it edits the relationship.

Above this landscaped perimeter, the upper levels emerge into full exposure. Here, the strategy shifts from concealment to filtration. Bedrooms and study areas are wrapped in a continuous veil of timber screens that function simultaneously as sun-shading devices and privacy filters. This porous envelope allows light and air to permeate while carefully modulating outward and inward views. The house is visible, but never fully revealed.

Acoustic performance is equally integral to the design. Openings to the more private rooms are calibrated with high-performance glazing, ensuring that the interiors remain calm despite the proximity to traffic. The result is a layered sensory experience—where the presence of the city is acknowledged, but its intensity is held at bay.

Situated within a flood-prone zone, the house responds by elevating the main living level above the street. This necessity becomes another opportunity. The lifted structure allows for the introduction of a naturally ventilated basement, achieved without excessive excavation. Rather than a residual or service space, the basement is conceived as an extension of the home’s social life—well-lit, breezy, and seamlessly connected to the garden. It becomes a place of gathering, turning a regulatory requirement into a spatial asset.

Within the half-basement, a sunken courtyard opens to the sky, creating a quiet garden at the heart of the house. It provides a natural setting for a collection of mature bonsai trees, gifted to the owners after being rescued from a garden before its demolition. Here, their sculptural forms can be appreciated up close, bringing a quiet sense of age, memory, and permanence to the space.

Hiding In Plain Sight House ultimately proposes a different way of engaging with visibility and exposure. It suggests that privacy need not come at the expense of openness, and that presence does not require spectacle. Through careful layering—of landscape, structure, and envelope—the house negotiates its position between retreat and engagement.

In doing so, it redefines what it means to dwell in a highly visible environment: not by withdrawing completely, but by choosing, with precision, what to reveal and what to withhold.

“In silence there is eloquence” – Rumi

In a world enthralled by the immediate — instant feeds, fast builds, and the constant churn of visual stimulation — this house resists the rush. Designed for a family of five, this hillside home is conceived as an architectural antidote to sensory saturation. Almost invisible from afar, it does not announce itself with form or flourish. Instead, it invites observation, gently unfolding as a deeply contextual response to site, season, and slowness.

Tucked into the slope and elevated discreetly above street level, the house occupies a leafy residential plot in Singapore’s Bukit Timah district, overlooking a primary school. A stepped garden, integrated into the hillside, stabilises the terrain while rooting the architecture in a larger environmental continuum — one shaped by erosion, rain, and time.

This is slow architecture, not just in construction pace, but in spirit. It draws on local climate, craft, and knowledge to produce a house attuned to its surroundings. Passive strategies — cross ventilation, deep overhangs, cavity walls, rooftop gardens — reduce reliance on mechanical cooling.

Materially, it favours tactility and aging over sheen: granite, travertine and teak meet custom joinery and filtered light. The palette is muted, but never monotonous; each surface holds a temperature, a grain, a quiet presence.

Inside, a procession of volumes unfolds around the pool and garden. Retractable glass panels dissolve boundaries, allowing the living room to breathe like a shaded pavilion. Even the basement — often resigned to darkness — emerges here as a cool, daylit volume with garden views, proof that every corner has been considered.

The house, dubbed The House of Stillness, is not architecture for the feed. It doesn’t beg to be liked, shared, or captioned. It is architecture that asks to be experienced slowly — in changing light, shifting air, and repeated encounters.

In the aftermath of the pandemic, and with growing ecological awareness, this project resonates with a cultural shift: a re-evaluation of speed, scale, and spectacle. The House of Stillness proposes an alternative mode of living — one of care, presence, and long-term thinking. It is a house built not just for now, but for the unfolding of time.

Singapore Tatler Homes Design Awards 2026
Winner for Best Good Class Bungalow

“House Above The Trees is ingenious in lifting the volume above while creating breathtaking moments at the ground floor, with the subterranean level catering to the owner’s precious car collection – we couldn’t think of a better GCB lifestyle and clearly the judges agreed.”
Judges’ citation on House Above The Trees for winning the Best Good Class Bungalow.

“It is urgent to live enchanted” – Valter Hugo Mãe

Perched atop a hill and nestled at the edge of Singapore’s Central Nature Catchment Reserve, The House Above the Trees is a serene family home that bridges modern living with the quiet rhythms of nature. The brief called for a dwelling that would nurture both privacy and familial bonds—an urban sanctuary immersed in greenery.

The design embraces this vision by integrating the natural environment into the home’s architectural language. Characterised by generous openness and outdoor spaces, the house transforms nature into a living part of the architecture. These open-air areas provide peaceful retreats that allow residents to enjoy the outdoors while remaining within the comfort of home.

The spatial layout fosters both interaction and seclusion. The lower two floors accommodate shared spaces such as the living, dining, and entertainment areas, while the upper levels house private bedrooms. At the heart of the home, two ethereal atriums with sunken water gardens flank the main living areas, connecting the indoors with the tranquillity of water and light.

The courtyard design promotes natural ventilation, daylighting, and passive cooling, reducing reliance on artificial energy sources. Surrounded by other houses, the courtyard draws in sunlight and greenery, creating a soothing and secluded microclimate. Large windows and sliding doors frame views of this internal oasis, dissolving the boundary between interior and exterior.

An immersive entertainment room is set between the two water gardens, featuring a sunken lounge, plush seating, pool table, bar, and walk-in wine chiller. The sound of cascading water and the presence of tall trees evoke a serene atmosphere that encourages rest, reflection, and connection.

The house is wrapped in a delicate sunscreen across the upper floors, filtering sunlight and creating restful, dimly lit bedroom spaces. Natural, sustainable materials such as timber, stone, and concrete provide texture, warmth, and timeless character, honouring tropical vernacular design.

The House Above the Trees demonstrates how modern architecture can elevate everyday life through a deep connection with nature. More than a home, it is a living sanctuary—an expression of sustainability, serenity, and spatial poetry, designed to support the well-being of its inhabitants while celebrating the enduring beauty of the natural world.