The house carries an unusually vivid backstory. Commissioned in 1865 by Antoni Cuyàs, the eponymous “pirate” who had amassed considerable wealth in South America before returning to his hometown, his vision was to create a residence based on the grand palaces he had seem in Argentina. Two adjoining houses were merged into a larger residence and embellished by Italian artisans, resulting in richly ornamented interiors defined by elaborately patterned ceilings, decorative wallpapers, ornate cornices, and intricate flooring. Bequeathed to his adopted son, an orphan who happened to share his surname, the property passed down to successive generations, including artists, writers and bon vivants, gradually losing much of its original splendour along the way.

By the time it reached its current owner, Manuel Cuyàs, Antoni Cuyàs’ great-great-grandson, the interiors felt suspended in a distorted past, ill-suited to modern living. Instead of opting for a conservation-based renovation, Manuel, together with his serendipitously Argentine partner Nuria, wanted to re-engage with a family legacy in a way that felt relevant rather than reverential through transforming the three rooms that still retained original elements into functional, lived-in spaces.

The dialogue between heritage and modernity vividly extends throughout all three rooms. In the living room, a portrait of Antoni Cuyàs remains in its original position, while on the opposite wall, where an ornate mirror once hung, a minimalist mirrored cabinet now conceals a lacquered yellow interior housing the television. By placing an emphasis on scale, all of the interventions—from the stainless-steel detailing and stone drawer knobs to the careful juxtaposition of contemporary artworks and ceramics with family heirlooms—have been carefully calibrated to reinforce the project’s central premise: that contemporary living can be seamlessly embedded within a historic framework without resorting to mimicry or erasure. Lastly, any considerable technical complexity, particularly in concealing climate control and services, remains deliberately understated, allowing the spaces to retain an air of effortlessness.

La Casa del Pirata suggests that heritage is not a static condition that demands preservation, but a layered construct that can accommodate new narratives without losing coherence. By engaging directly with the building’s architectural and familial history, Sánchez has ultimately avoided the pitfalls of both pastiche and rupture, offering instead a model of continuity that feels at once grounded and forward-looking.