w/ El Sereno, México
- studiomique
- Aug 5
- 8 min read
Updated: Oct 7
A Conversation between Claudia Álvarez and Rodrigo Acitores of El Sereno and STUDIO MIQUE on Introspection, Craftsmanship, Personal Stories, and the Connection between the In- and Outdoors
Echoing Home is a new series born from a deeply personal question: what truly makes a space a home? As a designer, I’ve long explored this question – not just from an aesthetic point of view, but, more importantly, from a psychological one. I’m fascinated by the emotional undercurrents of spaces – the way they hold us, speak to us, and, sometimes, gently invite us to be ourselves.
Is it even possible to verbalize what makes us feel at home? In Echoing Home, I try. Echoing Home holds that unspoken feeling – a quiet echo of belonging that remains with us.
Home isn’t just a place – it’s shaped by the people who fill it. In 2019, visiting México felt like more than a homecoming; reconnecting with familiar faces and embracing new ones reminded me that feeling home also lives in relationships.
Given all of this, it felt only natural to dedicate this edition of Echoing Home to El Sereno. El Sereno, ‘’the serenity’’, is an art and design-inspired destination, situated in the heart of the vibrant landscapes of Amatlán de Quetzalcóatl México. It’s been designed by Méxican architect Daniel Álvarez from Grupo Arquitectura in 1998 and styled by El Sereno. All details have been considered during its design, all in here has been ethically and sustainably handcrafted by local and international artisans and have been curated with the intention of inspiring the soul and free mind. [source: El Sereno]
El Sereno is described as “a temple” – a place for connecting with one's own rhythm, inspiration, and calm. Rather than imposing itself, the architecture respectfully engages with its surroundings, inviting tranquillity and introspection.
I spoke with Claudia Alvarez and Rodrigo Acitores, the creative minds behind El Sereno. Together, we spoke about introspection, craftsmanship, personal anecdotes, the connection between the in- and outdoors and their thoughts on biophylic spaces.
El Sereno is built in 1998 in the vibrant landscapes of Amatlán de Quetzalcóatl, México. Amatlán de Quetzalcóatl is not just a village – it’s a living landscape, where myth and mountain, ritual and river, roots and renewal meet. It is wild, mystical, and layered - a place where the environment is both geological and symbolic. How do you think the surroundings enhance the feeling of home for people visiting El Sereno?
Amatlán is not just a landscape. It is an ancient pulse, a breath between mountain and myth. Those who arrive here are not only seeking rest but reunion. This valley has the ability to strip away the unnecessary. It invites us to listen more attentively and to feel more deeply. The environment does not just beautify, it holds. At El Sereno, we strive for every corner to speak that same language, the fertile silence, the land that remembers.
In regards to the architecture of El Sereno, the gabion wall [a stone-filled mesh wall with ancient origins] is filled with stones from the site itself, making the structure literally and symbolically rooted in the land. Are there any other architectural elements of El Sereno that are truly unique and rooted in the history of this region in México?
The use of local materials was not just an aesthetic decision. It was an act of belonging. Beyond the gabion wall, there are elements like rammed-earth walls, mineral textures that recall pre-Hispanic structures, and open frames that do not intend to enclose but to engage in dialogue with the landscape. The architecture of El Sereno does not seek to dominate. It seeks to accompany both the visitor and the land. It is architecture that breathes with the mountain.
El Sereno is a space that connects the inside and the outside. What have you done to enhance the synergy between the two? Are there certain design elements of the interior that you believe allow for a harmonious flow between inside and out?
Rather than separating spaces, we seek to let them merge. The transitions between indoors and outdoors unfold gently. Open frames, recurring materials, and thoughtfully placed furniture invite contemplation. Beds face the valley. Tables rest where the breeze flows in. Showers open beneath the branches. The landscape is not a backdrop. It is part of the soul of the place. The interior flows into nature, so the guest can do the same.
El Sereno was built in 1993. Considering that the space is now over thirty years old, it feels timeless. Does the interior also date from 1993? And if not, are there examples of craftsmanship that you have updated over time to give the space its timeless essence?
Though the structure was born in 1993, its spirit lives both before and beyond time. Some original elements remain, silent witnesses of the first architectural gesture. Yet the space has been renewed by patient hands. Reclaimed woods, natural textiles, and unique objects follow not trends, but coherence. These updates do not chase fashion. They pursue a deeper aesthetic and emotional truth. This is a space tuned like an instrument.
I read that you work with local artisans. What kind of furniture or pieces are handcrafted by the local community?
Working with local artisans is not simply an ethical choice. It is an act of reciprocity. Each handmade piece, whether a woven lamp, a carved bench or a ceramic plate, holds the rhythm of the place. Craft here is not an industry. It is knowledge passed down in silence, with respect for material and origin. Many of the furniture pieces were made to measure by regional workshops. They incorporate local woods, palm weaving, and techniques that endure through collaborations with spaces like this.
Are there any elements of craftsmanship that are truly unique to the region which you proudly display at El Sereno? Could you explain any of them and share their cultural meaning? Do they carry a personal story?
Rather than displaying objects, we allow them to inhabit the space. Each piece is selected for its ability to hold silence, to resonate with the interplay of light and shadow. There are stone walls carved by artisans from Puebla and Amatlán, antique jars from Mexican haciendas, Moroccan textiles, woodwork by local craftsmen, and Tibetan art that invites devotion. There is no linear narrative. Instead, there is a woven fabric of time, culture, and contemplation. Each element was chosen not to impress, but to accompany. At El Sereno, craft does not decorate. It roots.
México has a rich cultural legacy. If you had to mention one thing you are most proud of when applying Mexican arts and crafts at El Sereno, what would it be?
The sacred relationship with time. In many Indigenous cultures of Mexico, time is not a straight line. It is a circle, a pulse, a return. At El Sereno, we try to honor that vision. Everything unfolds at its own rhythm. There is no rush, no urgency. Staying here is a way to return to the present. As if time became earth again under your feet.
Which examples of Mexican craftsmanship do you hope guests discover while staying at El Sereno or visiting México in general?
More than a single object, we hope guests discover how the Mexican soul weaves itself into the everyday. A tule chair that holds both body and story. A wool rug that captures the warmth of a gesture. In México, craftsmanship is not decoration. It is living memory. Every handmade piece becomes a form of relationship with the world.
You are also inspired by international design. Could you mention one example that has influenced El Sereno and why you believe it fits so well?
We are inspired by the restraint of Japanese design, its impermanence, its respect for natural materials. The wabi-sabi aesthetic resonates deeply with the essence of El Sereno. What is simple but not simplistic. What reveals the beauty of imperfection. We are also moved by Scandinavian architecture, where light, silence, and honesty in materials guide the experience. Both approaches remind us that beauty can be a form of listening.
Now focusing on the introspective side: El Sereno is a space for reconnecting with one’s own rhythm, inspiration, and calm. I loved the quote: Some rooms don’t ask for attention. They simply let you arrive. No performance. No pose. Just a quiet place that meets you as you are. What do you think makes people feel at home at El Sereno? Is it an invitation to come home to oneself, or is it also something external?
To feel at home at El Sereno is not to arrive. It is to let go of the armor. Something in the architecture, in the stillness, in the atmosphere allows rather than demands. Often, it is not what is found, but what is softened. The rush, the comparison, the noise. The landscape, the light, and the noble materials together create the container. What blooms inside is what matters. Here, home is not imposed. It is revealed.
If you imagine yourself in the shoes of someone visiting El Sereno, what would make you feel the stay was truly meaningful? As a host, what do you hope guests say about El Sereno and their experience in México?
That they listened inwardly. That something here reminded them of what they already knew but had forgotten. That they breathed differently without knowing why. That beauty was not observed but experienced from within. If they leave with a softer gaze toward themselves, then El Sereno has fulfilled its purpose.
Has a guest ever shared a personal story that stayed with you? Were there aspects of El Sereno that made them feel at home, things you had not planned but were glad they valued?
Yes. There is a guest who has returned many times. He is an artist, and each of his visits carries the feeling of a quiet ritual. He arrives alone, speaking little. With each passing day, he begins to refine. He once told us that El Sereno is a refuge where he returns to himself. Where his creative process sheds the noise and finds direction. His presence leaves a trace. The way he inhabits the space transforms it. That, more than a surprise, is a gift. To witness someone be inspired not by what we do, but by what the place permits is a form of confirmation we hold close.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on calm, serene, biophilic spaces around the world. What, in your opinion, sets El Sereno apart? Is there anything you would like people to know?
Many spaces seek serenity through visual order, through a sense of aesthetic control. At El Sereno, calm emerges from allowing things to be. The landscape is not curated. Nature is not tamed. There are insects, wind through the trees, the voices of the night. The beauty here is not artificial. It is an expression of respect. What sets us apart may not be what we show. It may be what we allow, a genuine encounter with what is.
What do you hope or dream for the future of El Sereno?
That it remains a refuge for those who need to remember. That beyond hospitality, it stays a place of pause, connection, and quiet. That those who care for it do so with love, and those who visit enter with reverence. That it never becomes a place for the many, but for the meaningful. That it stays true to its name, remaining serene, present, and real.
Another quote I came across on your Instagram that really resonated with me was: “Not far, yet far enough. To feel the world soften around you.” by @leviwellsphoto. If you could capture the feeling of home at El Sereno in just one sentence or image, what would it be?
Home at El Sereno is the quiet held in the folds of the mountain, where distance becomes closeness and time dissolves into breath.
Written by: Annemiek Fässler-Kooi for @studiomique
Please note: all images are the courtesy of El Sereno and Ana Paula (go see her beautiful work on Instagram too @anapaula__a)
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