A Bauhaus villa on Lake Geneva is up for sale, built by the architect of DDR

Architecture is full of stories shaped by contrasts and literal opposites, at least on the surface. Just think of the European émigrés who moved to the U.S. in the 1930s: initially connected by common histories, later dispersed across coasts and deserts, aware of their shared pasts. Here is another interplay of opposites, starting with Lake Geneva. The first story is about the Vaud Riviera, between Montreux and Vevey. From the early 1900s on, such a density of high society, intellectuals, and figures central to international culture gathered there that it easily rivaled the French Riviera with its roster of viscountesses of Noailles (probably the guest lists for the parties were the same, but that has not yet been verified). On such golden shores, art would call art: Adolf Loos had already built Villa Karma in Clarens in 1906.

The second story begins with Hermann Henselmann, a German architect trained in the early 20th century who rose to prominence after WWII as the defining figure of East Germany’s architectural landscape. His name is forever tied to architectural icons of the DDR, such as Karl-Marx-Allee and the Fernsehturm, the Berlin TV Tower at Alexanderplatz. A crucial, if often overlooked, detail: after the war, Henselmann also led the State Academy of Architecture and Fine Arts in Weimar –essentially the Bauhaus’ East Germany heir – and aimed to rekindle that avant-garde lineage.

Two worlds, seemingly far apart, but linked by the Bauhaus. And by the idea that most of us have led other lives: earlier, later, or parallel to the ones that define our legacy. In his “previous life,” Henselmann had developed a design by his friend Alexandre Ferenczy, Hungarian architect and set designer: a striking villa in La Tour-de-Peilz conceived in the late 1920s. The clients were as progressive as the project itself: English writer Winifred Bryher had settled in the canton with her partner, American poet and novelist Hilda Doolittle. Doolittle’s lover, director Kenneth Macpherson, also became Bryher’s husband and together, they commissioned a villa blending their names: Kenwin. Ferenczy’s concept grew out as a textbook of modernist and Bauhaus spatial principles: a pure volume articulated with long ribbon windows, void floors held by pilotis, and a rooftop terrace. A curving stair tower is the clearest nod to Bauhaus teachings in Weimar and Dessau, alongside stark white surfaces broken up by primary-colored lines and planes evoking Johannes Itten’s legendary Vorkurs or the dialogues between Vassily Kandinsky and the early avant-garde.

The Bauhaus ethos extended indoors: open-plan layouts made possible by structural rationalization, spatial fluidity showing in the double-height living room and its sweeping balcony, and in the visual connections between rooms that reinforce the idea of a unified domestic environment. Consistent with Bauhaus ideals, furniture and interior elements were integral to the architecture. Henselmann corresponded closely with Bryher on this, sourcing linoleum, prefab furniture systems, and Berlin-made lighting fixtures to complete the home. Even the villa’s relationship with the landscape, floating above a sloped lakeside site, places it within the broader trajectory of early modern architecture. It resonates with Neue Sachlichkeit (New Objectivity) masterpieces like the Haus am Rupenhorn by Hans and Wassili Luckhardt with Alfons Anker.

Henselmann completed Villa Kenwin in 1937, concluding a project shaped by an intersection of art, architecture, literature, science, and psychoanalysis – its patrons’ circle had included Albert Einstein, director G.W. Pabst, and Sigmund Freud. Vacant during WWII, the house eventually fell into disrepair until 1987, when a restoration led by Giovanni Pezzoli revived its essential Bauhaus values. The project earned the house national heritage status in Switzerland, cementing its place among the country’s protected cultural assets. Now, the villa is once again for sale. But the real news isn’t just that this modernist icon is (quite exclusively) available: it’s that it can return to the living flow of history, not just sitting still as a museum piece. Nearly a century later, the spirit that animated its creation might once again find room to breathe.

Opening image: Alexander Ferenczy, Hermann Hanselmann, Villa Kenwin, La Tour-de-Peilz. Photo © Architecture de Collection