四月底的黄昏，里斯本古老的 Alfama 城区沉浸在暖金色的余晖中。陡坡街巷蜿蜒如柔软的绸带，鹅卵石路面被岁月磨出温润光泽。这里曾是渔民与平民的聚居地，脚下沉睡着罗马遗迹，身旁立着1755年大地震后重生的屋宇。许多房屋虽因时间而破败，却正是在这份破碎与留白中，为后来者保留了重新想象的空间——在旧结构的肌理间，再次编织起居住与生活的连结。

On an April evening, the old Alfama district of Lisbon was immersed in the warm gold of dusk. Steep alleys wound down the hill like soft ribbons, and the cobblestones, worn smooth by time, carried a muted sheen. Once home to fishermen and working-class families, this neighborhood rests atop Roman ruins, flanked by houses rebuilt after the 1755 earthquake. Many buildings have decayed with age, yet it is precisely within this fragility and these gaps that new possibilities emerge—openings for reimagining how living and dwelling may be rewoven into the fabric of old structures.

2003至2006年间，建筑师曼努埃尔·艾雷斯·马特乌斯（Manuel Aires Mateus）承接了这座老宅的重塑。这不是简单的修复，而是一场空间的再生。指尖掠过刻满世纪纹路的大理石拱券，我们步入古城脚下的静谧居所—— Manuel 的家便安置在这座古堡的一层。

Between 2003 and 2006, architect Manuel Aires Mateus undertook the transformation of this old house. It was not a restoration in the conventional sense, but a rebirth of space. As our fingertips brushed the marble arch carved with centuries of wear, we entered a quiet refuge at the foot of the old city—Manuels home, nestled on the ground floor of this ancient structure.

“房子是自己设计自己的。” Manuel 的这句话，在他的家中并非隐喻，而是出发点。接手时，饱经风霜的结构早已无法与任何完整图纸对应，设计于是从“挖掘”开始：挖出被掩埋的原始石材，理清模糊的原有结构，也唤醒那些被时间封存的空间记忆。

“ The house designs itself. ”For Manuel, this is not metaphor but principle. When he first encountered the dwelling, its weathered structure no longer aligned with any existing drawings. The design therefore began with excavation—uncovering buried stone, clarifying the fragmented original structure, and awakening spatial memories sealed by time.

穿过入口长廊，历史的密度缓缓漫开，仿佛行走在连接古今的隧道中。脚下粗粝的石材印着上世纪的痕迹，支撑屋顶的厚墙、拱券与拱顶天花都被悉心修复；墙面则延续着 Manuel 工作室特有的利落开口与大片白墙。原本被重门隔断的封闭房间，如今被转化为流动而开放的生活场域，居住的节奏也随之变得轻盈。

As we moved through the entrance corridor, the density of history slowly unfolded, like walking through a passage connecting past and present. The rough stone beneath our feet bore traces of the last century; the thick load-bearing walls, arches, and vaulted ceilings had all been carefully restored. The walls, meanwhile, carried the studios signature: clean openings and expanses of white. Rooms once isolated by heavy doors have been transformed into open, flowing spaces, allowing daily life to unfold with greater lightness.

光是 Manuel 最默契的合作者。阳光从花园方向的落地窗倾泻而入，绿植的影子被精心剪裁，温柔落在白墙与家具上，在粗糙石材与光滑界面间，注入自然的韵律。推开拱门时，拱顶的阴影随脚步移动，光线与阴影交替，谱写出一天的时间节拍。这里很难用“客厅”或“过厅”定义，更像一条“时间廊道”，人、生活、光影与空气都在此自然流动。

Light is Manuels most intuitive collaborator. Sunlight pours in from the garden-facing windows, with shadows of plants lightly brushing the white walls and furniture, giving rhythm to the interplay of rough stone and smooth surfaces. When a doorway opens, the vaults shifting shadows move with each step, and the alternation of light and shade marks the cadence of the day. This space is neither a “living room” nor a “hallway”—it is more like a corridor of time, where people, daily rituals, light, and air flow together effortlessly.

餐厅被巧妙抬高，地面铺着从花园里发掘的石灰岩；原本偏离轴线的法国喷泉，被拆下后重新对位入口视线。这些动作无关造型噱头，只为让空间与材料、历史及日常重新对齐。

The dining area is subtly elevated, its floor paved with limestone unearthed from the garden. A French fountain that once sat off-axis was dismantled and repositioned to align with the entrance view. These gestures are not aesthetic theatrics, but acts of reorientation—bringing space, material, history, and daily life back into alignment.

为满足现代居住的隐私需求，后院增设了一座“白色盒子”——这个简洁克制的当代体量，静静承载起卧室与私密空间，大面积玻璃将城市与河流景致拥入室内，让日常与风景温柔对话。

To meet contemporary needs for privacy, a “white box” was added in the rear courtyard. This restrained, modern volume houses the bedrooms and private spaces; large glass openings draw the city and river into the interior, allowing daily life to converse quietly with the landscape.

地下空间藏着最动人的设计意外。施工时一块石头坠落，砸穿地面，露出被封多年的楼梯与古老蓄水井（cisterna）。 Manuel 没有填补这份“意外”，反而赋予它新生：如今这里是带天井采光、瓷砖贴面的“第二客厅”，柔软的沙发消解了地下空间的压抑，成为静谧聚会的场域——向下延伸的纵深，让住宅的可能性愈发宽广。

The basement holds the homes most poetic accident. During construction, a stone fell and broke through the floor, revealing a long-sealed staircase and an ancient cistern. Manuel chose not to erase this event but to give it new purpose. Today, the space has become a “second living room,” illuminated by a skylight and finished with tile; soft seating dissolves the heaviness of being underground, creating a quiet gathering place. This downward extension opens yet another dimension of possibility for the house.

站在花园中央，我们想起 Manuel 的话：建筑的“持恒”从不是静止，而是能吸收时间、包容生活的改变。

他的孩子三岁到成年，房子的细节随家庭一同生长，成了一部写满日常的家庭史。古老石板与新白墙、“白色盒子”与旧拱券之间，没有视觉的争夺，只有平静的对话——你能触摸到罗马遗迹的温度，也能感受阳光落在现代沙发上的暖意。

Standing in the center of the garden, we recalled Manuels words: the “endurance” of architecture is never stillness, but the capacity to absorb time and accommodate the changes of life. From the time his children were three to their adulthood, the house has grown with the family, becoming a quiet chronicle of their everyday history. Between ancient stone slabs and new white walls, between the white box and the old arches, there is no visual competition—only calm dialogue. You can feel the warmth of Roman ruins under your hand, and the same warmth of sunlight settling on a contemporary sofa.

离开时暮色已深，老宅的灯光从拱券间缓缓溢出，与远处 Alfama 的灯火交织成片。 Manuel 的设计从不是对历史的复刻，更不是对现代的张扬，而是让建筑成为一种时光的容器：旧的肌理在此继续呼吸，新的生活在此生长；两个时代的空气在空间中交融，最终沉淀为一种无需言说的温柔持恒——这或许正是好建筑最动人的模样：它不强调自身，而是成全生活与岁月。

By the time we left, night had fallen. Light spilled gently from the arches of the old house, merging with the scattered glow of Alfama in the distance. Manuels work is neither a revival of history nor a proclamation of modernity. Instead, he allows architecture to become a vessel for time: where old textures continue to breathe and new life quietly takes root. The air of two eras mingles within the space, settling into a tender, understated continuity. Perhaps this is what makes good architecture so moving: it does not speak of itself—it simply makes room for life and for time.