Südtirol, 2024
FREIFORM MOUNTAIN GUESTHOUSE
Architecture With a Purpose: To Observe, Contemplate, and Belong
Anita claims that to stay at Freiform is to meet Niemeyer—not in flesh, but in spirit.
She is right.
Because Freiform embodies free and sensual curves, inspired by the surrounding mountains, the relief of the slope, or a female silhouette. It’s about elbows and knees, about the way all parts fit because they bend when they must—not when they should.
The dialogue between form and function has long captivated Martin Gruber, Anita’s husband and the architect behind this minimalist mountain guesthouse in the Tinne Valley in Südtirol. Known for bridging the gap between the man-made and the organic, Gruber often draws from nature's inherent contrasts. His philosophy revolves around designing spaces that respond to their environment rather than imposing upon it.
His signature style is one of tactile discovery, creating environments that invite touch and gradually reveal their layers over time. He avoids excess and champions authenticity, insisting on materials that tell their own story: solid wood warm to the touch, stone with its raw edges intact, and steel that feels both industrial and poetic.
Meeting Niemeyer’s spirit in Südtirol’s mountains.
Martin can fit a square peg into a round hole.
The name Freiform—Freeform in English—is somewhat misleading. As you approach, its organic concrete structure contrasts sharply with the rigidity of the steel window frames and glass panes. These opposing forms sharpen the surrounding landscape. "It’s in the in-betweens that you see most clearly," Martin explains. "The tension between square and round, the dialogue between hard concrete and the flowing softness of the curtains, and the patches of snow in the permanent shade of the slope against the green of the pasture under a winter sun."
There’s a remarkable harmony in Martin’s paradoxes, a balance that finds its truest expression in Freiform.
You don’t just occupy Freiform; you discover it the way you explore the body of a new lover. You let your hands trail along its surfaces—the grain of solid wood, cool steel, shimmering glass, a natural stone bathroom basin that feels almost ceremonial in its simplicity. And the concrete: unyielding yet softened by curtains that breathe restraint and shelter.
Details.
Loden wool hangs weighty on the inside, while weather-resistant fabric billows in the breeze outside.
Recessed deep into the concrete, ceiling lights mimic the floorplan, their glow intimate and deliberate. The black, roughly plastered walls of the bathroom seem like a geological extension of the ground beyond it. The materials feel honest and essential. "The wood I use can be burned if no longer needed. It isn’t glued into permanence," Martin says.
Freiform is a mountain house, but it doesn’t dominate. Nor does it cling. Subtle yet certain, it emerges from the 'alm'—the high mountain pasture—next to the farm where Anita and Martin live. Together with their three children, six dairy cattle, a horse, rabbits, and fruit trees, they embrace a life that moves to the rhythm of animals and seasons, enriched by creative restlessness.
It’s around 5:30 AM when you feel the mountain waking up—a slow, almost reluctant unveiling. Like in an old movie theater, you’ve drawn the loden curtains to watch the full moon struggling against the clouds. The sky gleams like a tarnished serving tray, its silver oxidized and yearning for the polish of dawn. The mountains, their jagged edges unapologetically black, stand not as a menace but as an invitation, inspiring those willing to climb or simply observe.
One by one, the lights of scattered farms flicker on. The cows grow nervous. Around 6:00 AM, the first cars descend the serpentine roads, their headlights tracing pinholes in a black canvas. From your bed, you try to guess the cars' age by the intensity of their lights. By the time their drivers sip coffee in Bolzano or stack pallets in Brixen, the mountain quiets, its early morning flurry fading into stillness. The floodlights of the farm opposite your bed soften, leaving only a faint glow.
The cows have been milked.
Freiform’s essence lies here: in the ebb and flow of life against stone, wood, steel, and glass; in the way it holds you close while leaving you free to contemplate and create.
The mountain is life. Freiform—its refuge
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