A low-slung, white volume that slides into a Slovak hillside and quietly makes its own power.
At the end of a cul-de-sac in Lužianky, just north of Nitra’s golf greens, a single-storey house appears to skim the grass before it disappears into a slope. Šercel Švec inherited the client’s brief for “lasting, modern, eco-friendly” and answered with a flat-roofed bar that bends and recesses as the terrain turns. The north and east façades are near-perfect rectangles: crisp white plaster, a thin entrance cut, a carport folded under the roof. Walk around the corner and the geometry loosens—living, dining, and bedrooms step back toward the garden, their floor-to-ceiling windows set level with the lawn. A deep eave knits house and terrace into one shaded threshold, shielding summer sun yet pulling winter light deep inside.
The plan reads like a slow gradient from public to private. The higher “day” wing holds a single open room—kitchen, dining table, sofa nook, workspace—all of it in direct conversation with the garden. A short, timber-lined corridor drops to the buried edge of the site, where the main suite and children’s rooms nestle against the soil for natural insulation. Bathrooms on the cooler northern side borrow light from discreet skylights, while a library punctuates the linking spine. Everywhere the palette stays monochrome outside, warm inside: CLT panels flow across ceilings and walls; white screed floors catch stray sun; timber cabinetry repeats in a rhythmic grain.
Environmental logic drives the detailing. A green roof of meadow grasses and perennials cuts peak roof temperatures, while photovoltaic panels, a rain-water tank, and ground-coupled ventilation nudge the 266-square-metre home toward passive performance. Screens slide across west-facing glass each afternoon, and the heavy concrete base plate stores cool night air for the next day. The result is a house that feels effortless in use—open, bright, quietly breathing with the landscape—yet under the skin works as hard as any hi-tech cabin. Rdom 2 proves that in the right hands, a single sweep of white plaster can hold both architectural restraint and a thoroughly modern engine.
Photography by Tomáš Manina
















