The house is not a single entity but a composition of sampled fragments—vernacular motifs, familiar objects, and architectural traces pulled from the past and reassembled into a hybrid form. These references do not merely coexist; they collide, misalign, and leave behind a residue of their overlap. The slippage between them becomes the house’s central narrative, where memory does not act as a fixed recollection but as a shifting presence—an implied space rather than an absolute one.

At its core, Memory House manifests the gap between the actual and the implied. This absence takes physical form as the lounge, an in-between space that negotiates the memory of two distinct halves. One is private, shaped by the intimate rituals of the home, the other public, framing the performative interactions of domestic life. The lounge does not belong to either; instead, it oscillates between them, a spatial void where these two modes of inhabitation blur into one another.

The design language samples from vernacular references—rooflines, courtyards, structural rhythms—yet these elements are distorted, pulled from their origins and forced into new relationships. They act as placeholders for familiarity, yet their reconfiguration shifts them into something uncanny. Objects are displaced from their expected roles, and materials read as both local and artificial. The structure is familiar but refuses legibility. It is both an archive and an erasure, an assembly of inherited forms that no longer belong to their source.

The architectural condition of Memory House is neither fixed nor resolved. It exists in flux, held together by the tension of its misalignments. The lounge, neither a threshold nor a destination, sustains this tension. It is the gap between memory and material, an imprint of everything that was left behind and everything that refuses to fully take shape.