Architect Davide Andracco was one of very few people who saw this 592-square-foot home in Imperia, an ancient Italian town in the province of Liguria, as anything other than a hopeless ruin. “It was in really bad shape, but I sensed its potential,” he says. When his future client, a Swiss teacher who fell in love with the Italian Riviera, walked into his office, even she was skeptical. “Many people were,” he continues. “It was an abandoned and damp property, but I convinced her. Now she’s happy.”
The former ruin, current happy place is in Parasio, the historic heart of Imperia, a town comprised of labyrinthine narrow streets overlooking the sea that remains untouched by mass tourism. The building, dating back to the 17th century, is no grand palazzo—instead, it looks like a typical modest home found in many Ligurian villages with its stone walls, chestnut beams, and many different levels. Andracco paid special attention to emphasizing natural light in the space, but that was just one of his main focuses when turning this home into an inviting retreat.
A cistern becomes a study, and other design tweaks
Andracco uncovered a few surprises during his restoration work, the first being a large cistern under the floor. “It was probably used for collecting water; they are often found in similar buildings,” explains the architect of the waterproof, underground tank. “It allowed us to create a bigger space because we previously had limited headroom—and in the historic center [of Imperia], you normally aren’t allowed to make additions to houses.” The space where the cistern once was is now a cool, quiet corner of the home, a small study set below the main floor.
The second surprise was in the entrance to the building, where Andracco’s firm wanted to build a new kitchen. “When we walked into the building, we noticed a sloped ceiling and we wondered what might be above it,” the architect said. “That’s when we found an additional space. We added a level there, large enough for a bed or a desk.”
Ups and downs
Touring through the home is sort of like a small-scale roller coaster track you navigate on foot. The home’s entry is a few inches below street level, and from there you ascend to a suspended platform, descend again to the living area, slip into the former cistern, and climb back up to the sleeping area, where a final turn takes you to the bathroom. There are a total of six different levels compressed into 592 square feet (a huge feat in a small space). Exposed stone walls and preserved beams abound throughout, and an original structural column is a prominent feature in the living area.
“I had to install walls in some areas because of moisture, which the client was very concerned about,” says Andracco, who would have otherwise preferred to showcase even more of the original surfaces. “Especially in the bathroom," he confides. "There were beautiful bricks—but I respected the homeowner’s request.”
A mystical addition
Considering how many smaller spaces this apartment was divided into, the interior is surprisingly light and uniform. Andracco managed to create continuity by relying on a limited material palette for floors and other surfaces. Stone is one of them: the sofa is carved out of a masonry base, a small staircase reveals exposed rock, and the bathroom’s bricks are original. As for light, through all the windows, sunshine streams in, amplifying the space’s depth and illuminating the home’s charming irregularities.
The owner added a few decorative flourishes of her own: after an acquaintance warned her about the potential harms of radiation, she requested Barite stones be specially shipped in from her native Switzerland to use in the renovation. With its high barium content, the dense rock is said to shield against X-rays, gamma rays, chemicals, and corrosion. The rock is also believed to activate the third eye and the crown chakra, helping people tap into their psychic abilities. In short, it’s a stone associated with clairvoyance. “We embedded [barite] in a small cemented strip in front of the living room window,” says Andracco. “You can’t see them, but they’re there.” Perhaps the stones are part of why a calm silence settles over this little space, transforming it into a perfect refuge.
This small space in an ancient Italian town was originally published in AD Italy.
Facts Only
Architect Davide Andracco restored a 592-square-foot, 17th-century home in Imperia, Italy.
The property was located in Parasio, the historic center of Imperia, a town in Liguria.
The original structure was damp, abandoned, and considered uninhabitable by most.
The client was a Swiss teacher who wanted a home in the Italian Riviera.
A large cistern was discovered beneath the floor, repurposed as a study.
An additional space was found above the sloped entrance ceiling, now used as a bedroom or desk area.
The home features six different levels across 592 square feet.
Original elements include stone walls, chestnut beams, and a structural column in the living area.
Some original surfaces were covered due to moisture concerns, particularly in the bathroom.
The owner requested Barite stones from Switzerland to be embedded in the living room window area.
Barite is believed to shield against radiation and enhance psychic abilities.
The home’s design emphasizes natural light and a limited material palette.
The project was featured in AD Italy.
Executive Summary
Architect Davide Andracco transformed a 592-square-foot ruin in Imperia, Italy, into a functional home for a Swiss teacher. The 17th-century building, located in the historic Parasio district, was initially dismissed as uninhabitable due to its damp, abandoned state. Andracco’s restoration uncovered a hidden cistern, repurposed as a study, and an additional space above the entrance, now used as a bedroom or workspace. The home’s design navigates six distinct levels, blending original stone walls, chestnut beams, and exposed structural elements with modern interventions. The owner incorporated Barite stones from Switzerland, believed to shield against radiation and enhance spiritual clarity, into the renovation. Despite its small footprint, the home achieves a sense of light and continuity through a restrained material palette and strategic use of natural light. The project highlights the potential of adaptive reuse in historic, space-constrained urban environments.
The renovation balanced preservation with practicality, addressing moisture concerns while retaining original features where possible. The home’s labyrinthine layout reflects the organic growth of Ligurian villages, where buildings adapt to steep terrain and historic constraints. The inclusion of Barite stones adds a layer of personal belief, blending folklore with modern design. While the project succeeds in creating a livable space, it also underscores the challenges of restoring historic properties in regions resistant to mass tourism.
Full Take
This narrative presents a compelling case for adaptive reuse in historic urban spaces, where constraints like preservation laws and limited square footage force creative solutions. The strongest version of this story highlights the architect’s ingenuity in uncovering hidden potential—like the cistern and additional ceiling space—and the client’s personal touch with the Barite stones, which adds a layer of cultural and spiritual significance. The piece avoids overt emotional manipulation, focusing instead on the technical and aesthetic triumphs of the renovation. However, it subtly romanticizes the idea of "discovering" hidden value in ruins, which could reinforce a savior complex in restoration projects.
Patterns detected: none. The article does not employ distortion, bad faith, or false framing. It presents a straightforward account of a restoration project, though it leans into the allure of historic charm and personal belief without critical scrutiny of whether such interventions are scalable or sustainable.
The root cause here is the tension between preservation and modernization in historic districts. The narrative assumes that individual passion and creativity are sufficient to overcome structural challenges like moisture and space limitations, but it doesn’t address broader questions: Who can afford such restorations? How do these projects impact housing accessibility in tourist-heavy regions? The inclusion of Barite stones, while whimsical, also raises questions about the role of pseudoscience in design decisions—does this reflect a broader trend of blending spirituality with architecture, or is it merely a personal quirk?
For human agency, this story celebrates the power of vision to transform neglected spaces, but it also risks glorifying the labor-intensive, costly process of restoration as something only the privileged can undertake. The second-order consequences might include gentrification pressures in historic neighborhoods, where similar projects could drive up property values and displace long-term residents.
Bridge questions: How might this project’s success influence local attitudes toward historic preservation? Could the emphasis on individual creativity obscure systemic barriers to affordable housing in such areas? What would it take for adaptive reuse to become a tool for community benefit rather than a niche luxury?
Counterstrike scan: If this were part of a coordinated campaign, the playbook might involve glorifying individual restoration projects to justify deregulation of historic districts or to promote high-end tourism. However, the content does not align with such a pattern—it remains a genuine celebration of design and personal investment without broader ideological agendas.