Kubu Taru — the full synopsis

Kubu translates to hut in Balinese. Taru to tree. Kubu Taru — Tree Hut. Kubu Taru was built with tradition in mind, carrying in its spaces traces of Hindu Cosmology and Sacred Geometry. Sebastian Mesdag started his journey with a decision to build his family home on rice fields, confronting the dangers that come with land conditioned by monoculture. That resistance became a personal project: to let nature back into the area and, by default, his home.

Local trees are reintroduced into the landscape — ficus saplings that will grow into sublime canopies for the fledgling biological community beneath them. The main thread here is time. Kubu Taru does not seek to contain time, but rather to let it stretch and compress. The structure itself, perched atop traditional Balinese stilts, with 'Moorish influences', became a space for Mesdag and his family to dream. As dreams are, they do not need to be chained to one particular time or influence. Kubu Taru is a reflection of that: it is of its time, but it does not bend to it either. It is an accumulation of both real influences and flights of fancy made into reality.

Kubu Taru is the result of a joint effort by Balinese architect Conchita Blanco, her life partner and collaborator, Avalon Carpenter, a woodworker, and Sebastian Mesdag. They are friends from childhood; their craft here is informed by the study of connection — our connection to each other, and to Mother Nature. Blanco, with her penchant for Tropical Minimalism, imagined a space built with intention and impact.

Mesdag's children flit here and there through the courtyard that has become the home's Axis Mundi, their designated playroom, and the grounds around their home. Theirs is a life filled with mindful nurturing and joyful freedom. Here, nature does not merely surround the home but becomes part of it: the roots of the trees crawl beneath the structure, strengthening its foundation. It is a quiet symbiosis between Mother Nature and Man. Kubu Taru, with Mesdag's family within it, is a sweet reminder that all human creation starts with what the natural world hands freely.

The land around the house has become a source of life. Bugs are plentiful. Birds come to seek shelter. Kubu Taru is a space of refuge for both animals and humans.

Rooms are designed with the Axis Mundi in mind. Intention runs through each material choice; the structure itself is crafted with lumber, its interior sparse — recalling Japanese Minimalism — but graceful. Some parts of the structure are coloured with indigo to take on their blue hue. The ceiling, made of indigo-dyed banana fibre paper, is the product of Japanese-born Naruse, an artisan who, too, calls Bali home. The bathtub is made of stone, chiselled by local craftsmen to mimic the natural erosion of the material. The roof rests on its own column, detached from the house, and its planned asymmetry permits morning and late afternoon light to reach into the interior whilst also shielding those within from the noontide heat. Each detail is practical, not merely ornamental. Kubu Taru was built to recognise and respond to the beauty that surrounds it.

Beyond a stylistic choice, the stilts contain an intelligence that comes from local insight: they lift the structure higher above the damp of the ground and let air circulate more freely.

Mesdag and Blanco took into consideration the rightful order of each area of Kubu Taru. It is human to create boundaries, and this natural instinct is present in the geography of the home. The terrace is the designated space to greet strangers and acquaintances; the kitchen belongs to friends and family; deeper still, there is a seating section that holds intimate moments.

Kubu Taru stands at the intersection of many things, and in doing so highlights the interconnectedness of life. By design, it is intended to be a quiet architecture of safety, for the present generation but also for those to come. In this time of late-stage capitalism, there is a certain looming pressure to always take and take. There is something radical in choosing another way. Kubu Taru, befitting its name, is ultimately a celebration of easy pleasures — the pleasure of sitting and dreaming, of running and playing, of maturing in one's own time, and of bearing the signs of it with delight.