Studio V was the capstone course of my undergraduate career.  This project, a boutique hotel, was the largest project I had worked on to date, in terms of area, scope, and level of detail, and by far the most challenging, but when everything was said and done, I had a project (and a degree) that I could be proud of.  Based in Lisbon, Portugal, the project drew inspiration from the history and culture of the city.  Portugal has had a turbulent history, being conquered and ruled by nearly every faction in Europe at one time or another, but out of this diversity, the Portuguese people have forged a rich and proud cultural identity.  This relationship between the present, and the always felt, but just out of reach past, would serve as the driving concept of the hotel.

This design was to occupy a 7-story building in the heart of Lisbon, with the bottom two floors housing the lobby and amenities, and the upper floors being dedicated to guest rooms.  Each floor plate was approximately 4,000 sq.ft, and the first and second floors were joined by a grand staircase.

The lobby features several distinct seating areas, along with a concierge desk, and the main reception desk.  A variety of stone finishes, including a filled travertine on the floor and a rough split-face mosaic on the focal wall, pay homage to the historic stone architecture of the city.  The banner behind the reception desk features the Rooster of Barcelos, a national symbol of the Portuguese people.  Black lacquered ceilings are a recurring feature throughout the space, reflecting the columns and walls, and creating the illusion of those elements continuing past the physical plane of the ceiling and into another realm, just out of reach.

The main waiting area on the first floor is adjacent to the elevators, which feature mirrored walls and lacquered ceilings, transporting guests into an infinite plane as soon as the doors shut. A rough stone shaft at the back of the elevator serves as the only link to the outside world.  The elevator itself is cut around the shaft, which remains stationary and runs the entire height of the building, so as the elevator moves, guests can observe the movement of the stone behind them, an effect augmented by grazing lights in the floor and ceiling.  The waiting area features several groups of Barcelona chairs, opposed by Eames Molded Plastic Armchairs.  The Barcelona chairs, originally designed to serve as seats for the King and Queen of Spain at the 1929 International Exposition, are the pinnacle of luxury materials and craftsmanship, but are placed on equal footing with the economical, mass-produced Eames chairs.  This juxtaposition is intended as a statement on the relations of Portugal and Spain, acknowledging their past, but looking forward to the modern era, to a time of peaceful and mutually beneficial coexistence.

The second floor features a sitting area outside of the restaurant and bar.  An array of pendant lights at varying heights creates a star-field effect for guests, in addition to providing even, omnidirectional light.  The feature wall and banner from the first floor are extended through the floor plate, adding a sense of continuity to the space, echoing the historic continuity of the hotel's home country.

The hotel was home to a restaurant, Sal (Portugese for salt), a wine bar, Tawny, and a street-level wine and tapas bar, Lazaro, a feature typical of the downtown area of the city.  The waiting area on the second level doubled as seating for Tawny, and the home to the host stand of Sal.  The angular form of the host stand is inlaid with a porcelain mosaic, featuring a red glaze as a modern twist on the traditional blue tiles for which Portugal is known.

The interior of Sal maintains the warm color scheme of the hotel, but punctuates the sandy-gold tones with bright white.  The restaurant offers a variety of seating modes, to accommodate parties of any size, and furniture selections can easily be reconfigured.  Light shelves and automated roller shades help to enhance daylight penetration while minimizing glare.  The far wall, opposite the curtain wall, is textured through the use of a large net, a nod to the nautical heritage of the city.

The king suites of the hotel were designed to feel opulent, catering equally to guests seeking relaxation or excitement.  Two separate balconies allow guests to overlook the city, and the room is equipped with blackout curtains as well as luxurious sheers, both motorized for convenience.  A small kitchenette allows for entertaining, as does the sitting area in the foreground.  A rough stone wall provides a sense of stability and separation from the bedroom area beyond, and it's physicality is only enhanced by grazing light from above.

The bedroom proper is tranquil, free from the distraction of a television.  A private balcony allows guests a quiet place to take in morning views of the city below, and a small sitting area offers a slightly more removed vantage point.

Hotel Lisbon was certainly an experience for me.  It tested me like I'd never been tested before, as any worthwhile capstone course should.  I learned that I loved immersing myself in a new culture, and shaping a space to reflect the values and shared identity of those people.  But Portugal wasn't the only thing I learned about, I also learned a little bit more about myself, and the way I work.  Over the 15 weeks of this project, I got discouraged more than once.  But in the depths of discouragement, I had to earnestly ask myself why I was doing what I was doing, and every time I came up with the same answer: because I love it.  Design can be exhausting.  Pouring yourself into your work day in and day out takes a toll on everyone.  Every time I sank down, I was reminded of how much fun I used to have, the rush of pride when I would solve a problem, the feeling of satisfaction from a fully executed, well thought out design.  I reminded myself that I design for users, and if I do my job right, they'll appreciate my work, whether they realize it or not.  That's why I do what I do.  I design to make lives better.