Hotels · Four Sections · 11 Entries

The Dunk Dynasty Register

An index of hotels, by category

Section · 3 entries

Art Hotels

Hotels where the collection, the commission or the building itself is the reason to walk through the door.

An art hotel is a hotel that has decided the walls are not neutral. Sometimes that means a founder with a collection and the nerve to hang it in a corridor; sometimes it means a building commissioned from an architect who was not asked to be discreet. The three hotels below arrive at the same idea from three different directions, and none of them treats the art as decoration bolted on after the plumbing.

Villa La Coste

Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, Provence, France

Villa La Coste sits on a working wine estate in the hills north of Aix-en-Provence, and it is difficult to describe the hotel without first describing the land around it. The estate has spent years commissioning buildings and outdoor works from architects and artists of considerable reputation, scattering them across vineyard slopes and oak scrub so that a walk between rows of vines becomes, without much ceremony, a walk through a sculpture park. The hotel occupies a low, pale building set into the hillside, and its rooms are suites rather than conventional bedrooms — each one with its own terrace, each one angled at the valley.

What makes the place unusual is the relationship between the two halves. Guests are not visiting a gallery that happens to have beds; they are staying on an estate whose art programme runs on its own schedule, outdoors, in weather, largely unlabelled. A pavilion that reads as a folly from a distance turns out to be a serious piece of architecture when you reach it. The wine operation continues throughout, indifferent to the visitors.

Inside, the tone is deliberately quiet: stone, timber, long horizontal windows, very little pattern. The restraint is doing work — it keeps the building from competing with the collection it exists to frame. Provence supplies the rest, and in high summer the light does more for the architecture than any lighting designer could.

The Newt in Somerset

Somerset, United Kingdom

The Newt is a Georgian estate in the west of England that was restored, over several patient years, into a hotel, a garden and a working farm at once. The main building holds a small number of rooms; the rest are distributed through converted outbuildings and a separate farmyard cluster, which keeps the whole operation from feeling like a single large hotel and makes it feel instead like a village that has agreed on a colour palette.

The gardens are the reason most people come. They are formal in the English sense — parterre, walled kitchen garden, a vast planted amphitheatre of apple varieties — and they are maintained at a standard that makes the hotel almost incidental. Cyder is pressed on site from the estate's own orchards, and the production building is open to guests, which is a more honest kind of hospitality than a tasting menu describing the same thing.

Design-wise, the restoration is careful rather than showy: period rooms left legible, new work admitted as new. The estate has commissioned contemporary pieces and built structures that are unmistakably of this century, but it has resisted the temptation to make the older fabric apologise for being Georgian. The result reads as a place with a long argument between old and new that has been settled amicably.

Habitas Tulum

Tulum, Mexico

Habitas Tulum occupies a stretch of Caribbean coast where the jungle runs almost to the sand, and its buildings are designed to sit lightly on that boundary. Accommodation is a set of raised timber structures — prefabricated, assembled on site, deliberately modest in footprint — connected by boardwalks that wind between palms rather than clearing them. The approach is closer to a permanent camp than to a resort, and the hotel does not pretend otherwise.

The art here is less about objects on walls and more about programme. The property runs music, workshops and communal dinners as a standing part of the week, and the architecture is shaped around that: long shared tables, open-sided pavilions, a beach that functions as the main room. Guests who want a sealed, air-conditioned retreat will find the place unyielding; it is built to be porous.

Materially it is timber, rope, canvas and stone, weathered fast by salt air and left to weather. That ageing is part of the intent. Tulum has more than its share of hotels performing rusticity, and Habitas earns the label mainly by having built in a way it cannot easily undo.