The building complex, comprised of pinkish concrete and stone, is situated on top of a 600-foot mesa with the Flatirons as the backdrop and the Rocky Mountains beyond. Driving up the winding road, the building is so purposefully nestled into the landscape that it doesn’t reveal itself until one is about a mile away. Even then, it’s a glimpse of pink shielded by a wall of vegetation.
This integration into the landscape is one of the most engaging aspects of the complex, best understood as you meander through the site and the exterior spaces of the building.
But these elements, the natural and the built, are not separate. In fact, the entire complex feels so unified with the landscape that stepping off the paved path onto one of the surrounding trails is barely noticeable. The transition is seamless. Inspired by the cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde, the building relates to the landscape without mimicking it. The design reflects an inherent understanding that the architecture must live up to the greatness of the site without becoming its competition. That said, I wouldn’t consider the Mesa Lab delicate or less than. It touches the earth heavily with the use of cast-in-place concrete and stone throughout. Vegetation is wild and native grasses soften where the building meets the earth. Whether this is a strategy to subdue the building mass or the consequence of infrequent landscaping, the result is the same: architecture that surrenders to the site.
Part of the Office of Good Intentions. Human(s) Work