Music Practice Building - University Of The Andes

CONTAINED RESONANCES

Between the silence of concrete and the echo of wood, a new building discreetly emerges on the campus of the University of the Andes.

Conceived in 2017 from a competition for graduates under 40, the project brought together architects Carolina Jaimes, Juan Esteban López, and Alejandro Puentes, three friends trained at the same university.

The call for proposals, organized by the Faculty of Architecture and the Department of Music, sought a solution to a double challenge: to provide the university with specialized spaces for musical practice while preserving the urban and landscape balance of a campus with heritage value.

Seven years later, the construction of 750 square meters materialized as a silent volume, partially buried between the Faculty of Architecture and the Campito de San José, an old pavilion that has been a social, cultural, and artistic nucleus of the university.

From the outside, the building is perceived as a sober mass of exposed concrete. There is no ornament or stridency: just a contained presence that seems to await discovery. In its center, a void breaks the compactness of the volume and introduces natural light to the lower levels.

This void—more than just a simple atrium—functions as a meeting, rehearsal, and performance space, a place where sound expands freely before being contained again.

THE SPACE AS AN INSTRUMENT

The name The Music Box arose simultaneously in the team's conversations and in the brief of the competition.

The program is organized into three levels that respond to different acoustic intensities. The lower floors house rehearsal and recording rooms, designed under the principle of box-in-a-box, a system that decouples each room from the main structure to eliminate vibrations and guarantee absolute isolation.

Testing and calculations were developed with the collaboration of WSDG, an acoustic firm based in Miami, and Colombian engineer Daniel Duplat, who adapted international standards to the tropical conditions of Bogotá, marked by humidity and altitude.

The upper levels contain circulation areas, control rooms, and common spaces that promote interaction between musicians and architects. "We wanted it to be a place where students could meet informally, where sound wouldn’t be locked away but could circulate," explains Jaimes.

The structure of the building is supported by two large concrete beams that completely free the lower level, creating a space without columns or visual interruptions. "There is not a single vertical frame.

It’s all continuous glass," points out López. This continuity of planes generates a sense of architectural transparency that contrasts with the density of the structural material.

The interior surfaces were designed with artisanal precision: angled panels, hidden frames, and invisible joints that prevent unwanted reverberations.

Natural light, filtered through the central void, bathes the wooden walls and reveals their texture with changing nuances. The result is a warm and enveloping atmosphere, where each surface seems to participate in the rhythm of the building.

Pedestrian pathways adapt to the slope of the land, connecting the Faculty of Architecture with the Campito and resolving accessibility routes without altering the character of the place. "The building acts as a silence between the heritage brick and the orange of the neighboring buildings," describes López.

"Sometimes people say: 'Let’s meet at the Music Box,'" comments Puentes. That nickname, which initially seemed trivial, ended up being a testament to the affection that the building has generated.

Beyond its immediate use, the project embodies a deep symbolic weight for its authors. "It is our axis mundi, a center of professional practice, a place of reference," says Puentes. For the three of them, intervening in the campus that shaped them was an act of gratitude and responsibility: an opportunity to contribute to the architectural continuity of a place marked by emblematic works of Bermúdez and Cerón.