Distinction, that je ne sais quoi that slips into gestures or the way we inhabit the world, often crystallizes into a single word: elegance. A quality that illuminates those who possess it, regardless of context, like a silent beacon. Frida Escobedo (Mexico City, 1979) is one of those souls who carries this innate, almost intangible grace.
Boca de Agua, one of the latest projects her studio has signed off on, embodies these principles. A series of houses that, rather than being built, seem suspended in a murmur among the treetops, beside the Bacalar lagoon. Here, architecture doesn’t intrude, but dissolves into the landscape, as if it had always been there. “For me, it’s always better to be in conversation rather than impose. To try to recognize both differences and similarities, and accept them, in practice and metaphorically,” she says.
In this corner of Bacalar Lagoon, Boca de Agua seems to float, embraced by lush vegetation, while fresh water whispers around it. Here, the senses awaken to an empathy that humans rarely offer nature. The project feels, breathes, and lingers in the air saturated with humidity, as if the architecture itself absorbs the life around it. The respect and awareness surrounding it aren’t mere ideas but an anthropological approach present in every work signed by Frida Escobedo Studio
Frida never loses sight of the balance between reason and emotion, without forgetting what she considers to be the principles of good architecture: “Beyond utility, beauty, and constructive resolution, it’s vital to ask ourselves who we’re really working for.” Escobedo’s architecture speaks in whispers. Removed from the noise, from the unnecessary, her work traces delicate gestures laden with meaning.