If buildings speak for themselves, architect Carlo Calma’s sculptural Asador Alfonso speaks volumes that it leaves everyone else speechless. Even Chele Gonzalez is gobsmacked.
Design 1: Carlo Calma’s Asador Alfonso
I honestly don’t know where to look. I feel like I’m walking in slow motion and I’m conscious of putting my hand over my mouth because it’s hanging wide open. If I look down, I see the hidden track lights’ reflection on the floor and kitchen counter making illuminated lines.
In my head I am imagining Carlo Calma waving a wand, and all these pieces of wood bow and bend to his will, never wanting to stand straight again to become slats.
If I look slightly up, I see pieces of bent wood bunched together with equal spaces between them, dropping down casually like they weren’t a pain in the ass to execute.
They could have been flat slats, they should be because beside them are slats bordered by wooden cutouts that don’t deviate too far from their natural form. But judging from his past designs and his experience in theater and film, architect Carlo Calma has an abhorrence for the ordinary.
Photo from Carlo Calma Consultancy
I don’t know why I am fixated on this decorative piece. I’ve seen it often enough on ceilings inspired by Japanese origami; on old-fashioned wooden hooks that look like the letter J when viewed from the sides.
And I know there are many ways to bend wood—one of the most used being to steam it until the wood fibers soften and become pliable without cracking, and then clamped into its new shape until it hardens once more.
Detail photos by Tanya Lara
But in my head, I am imagining Carlo Calma waving a wand, and all these pieces of wood bow in reverence and bend to his will. They just never want to stand straight again to become slats.
Design 2: The Lexus RZ 450e electric vehicle
I am too lazy to name my one Spotify playlist. I just heart the songs I like when I hear them from some random playlist and Spotify puts them all together in what it predictably calls “Liked Songs.” As a result, mine is a long one.
The song Somewhere Only We Know was recorded by the English band Keane in 2003 and released in February 2004 on their debut album. This 24-year-old song is blasting wirelessly from my iPhone’s Apple Carplay into the entertainment system of the fully electric Lexus RZ 450e that I’m driving.
In the history of music that makes people sprint during training or drive fast on empty highways, Somewhere Only We Know is probably not in the Top 500 or even the Top 5,000. But I am driving like it is because this car deserves to be tested (slightly) above the 100 kph speed limit—especially on SLEX where the highway is as straight as, uhm, a wooden slat.
It’s only my second time to drive a Lexus. The first was two years ago when I reviewed the hybrid IS 300h Premier for my on-and-off motoring column in BusinessWorld. That hybrid Lexus IS 300h cost P3.3 million in 2022. This fully electric RZ 450e starts at P5.2 million.
Even now I am shocked that an electric vehicle can change speeds without having to floor it like with a gasoline-powered vehicle. This EV jumps without delay, like a cat leaping to the ceiling when it’s startled.
The sheer power of the Lexus RZ 450e never leaves you hanging when you’re overtaking, and it doesn’t drain your battery unnecessarily. It sends 201 horsepower to the front wheels and draws less power from the battery, which improves the driving range.
If you fill your tank once a week, you can save as much as P175,500 in a year (52 weeks on a 45-liter tank). That’s huge savings for a compact SUV like the Lexus RZ 450e.
The RZ 450e uses a lithium-ion battery in a stack comprising 96 cells with a total output of 71.4 kWh. The battery is positioned beneath the cabin, forming an integral part of the platform, which contributes to the car’s low center of gravity and stability.
The battery can be charged to 80% in an hour at a fast-charging DC station. I leave the Lexus showroom in BGC on a 90% charge and the indicator tells me I can go 288 km on that. Which is more than enough because I am headed to Asador Alfonso, where Lexus has arranged a dinner for a select group of journalists a day ahead of media, and two days before its public opening.
Design 1: Now look what he did to concrete
If buildings speak for themselves, architect Carlo Calma’s sculptural Asador Alfonso speaks volumes that it leaves everyone else speechless. Even Chele Gonzalez is gobsmacked—and he saw it being constructed from the ground up in the past two years.
The Calmas bought the farm during the pandemic, called it “Lava Rock,” and decided to turn what was originally conceptualized as a private space to entertain friends into a commercial restaurant. They have started to raise cattle and grow vegetables here for Asador, and Chele is looking forward to finishing his own house on the estate which Calma also designed.
Chele is like an excited child showing us his brand-new, shiny toy as he leads us to the second floor where there is more seating in the private room. I meet his wife Teri Echiverri-Gonzalez at the bottom of the stairs—a lovely woman who turns out to be my dinner seatmate, and we talk about our mutual friends and giggle like we’ve known each other for years.
The dramatic visual effects of deliberate voids are interesting. One could say, in fact, more moving.
I linger on the landing and look out of the openings formed by slabs of concrete that hold the building up and crisscross neatly like lattice. Some of the concrete pillars curve at the bottom, like feet at the end of long, thick legs. Or knees bent to the ground.
From the openings, I can see the overhangs, the cantilevers protruding into the empty space outside. Faint shadows fall on the floor on the second level and I wonder how long before they disappear into the night.
The dramatic visual effects of deliberate voids are interesting. One could say, in fact, more moving.
I once interviewed Ground Zero architect Daniel Libeskind who told me that when the 911 attacks happened in New York, he was in Germany opening his Jewish Museum in Berlin. Two years later, I went to Berlin and visited his museum. The building façade is clad in titanium-zinc and inside are a lot of deliberate voids.
Like with Ground Zero, it seems that Libeskind studied exactly where the light from the skylights would fall at different times of day. I took a picture of the intense midday light piercing the space. It was so beautiful in its spareness I nearly burst into tears.
I am reminded of this experience when I reach the empty hallway on the second floor of Calma’s building. From this blank space you have a full view of the interiors below, as well as the embellishments on the double-height ceiling and walls.
On one side is a wooden wall lit from behind with little patterns of tears. On the other side is a triangular window framed by slanted pillars, the lines as straight as an arrow. It looks like it could very well have been plucked from a church or built for one—maybe that’s why it feels peaceful here.
I love this space. I love the breathtaking drama of its emptiness.
Design 2: How much do you actually save?
When I moved to Boracay during the pandemic in 2021, premium gasoline was around P51 per liter and the dollar-peso rate was P49. When I moved back to Manila two years later in 2023, it was P70 per liter and one dollar was P55. Today, a liter of premium fuel costs between P71 and P75, and one dollar is P58.1.
If you fill your tank once a week, you can save as much as P175,500 in a year (52 weeks on a 45-liter tank). That’s huge savings for a compact SUV like the Lexus RZ 450e.
Photo from Lexus
More than that, running purely on electric means the RZ 450e emits zero harmful carbon into the air. That’s good for your soul.
Categorized as a compact crossover, this Lexus is very roomy inside. The cockpit design was based on the concept of tazuna or a horse’s rein. The driver-focused layout was “inspired by the communicative relationship between horse and rider,” including steering wheel-mounted switches and an optimally positioned instrument panel.
I was especially thrilled that the RZ 450e has a heads-up display (HUD). When I first saw it I was like, where is that coming from? It’s a transparent display of your speed outside the car that doesn’t require you to look away from the road instead of looking down at your dashboard.
Controls for the navigation functions, audio system, and driving mode selection are all within reach without distracting you. The dial-type shift knob on the center console to select drive modes is as easy as turning it in a clockwise or counterclockwise motion.
It’s interesting that Lexus describes its vehicles as having that distinct omotenashi or attention to detail. The word in Japanese culture carries significant weight as it is anchored on the values of anticipation, selflessness, and sincerity. In this case, it means the brand’s signature driving with complete confidence, comfort, and control.
Design 1, Design 2: “Experience Amazing”
Chele Gonzalez met Carlo Calma at 2012’s Malasimbo Music Festival. They woke up the next morning with a hangover and only pizza for food. Chele taught Calma and his friends the correct way to heat a pizza (on a pan, not in a microwave). They’ve been brothers ever since.
Calma designed the chef’s first restaurant in Manila, Gallery Vask, and now Asador Alfonso. The only input Chele had here was the kitchen. Chele’s domain is as much a showpiece as the food. It is positioned in the middle of the dining space with the asador or grill at one corner. I actually thought there was another closed kitchen but this is it—this is where Chele and in-house chef Rodrigo Osorio and their team cook.
How do the two Spanish chefs feel about cooking in a place like this? It’s amazing, both say, they’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s quite a change from the environment of BGC.
If the eyes eat first and are followed by the nose that smells this truffle from Italy, by the time the mouth actually tastes the dish, your sensory experience goes up to 11.
In this asador, paella has no place on the table. What Chele serves instead is food typical of a traditional Spanish asador or barbecue house. If he can help it, it will have no rice either (only potatoes), but he understands that Filipinos want rice with their meat.
Our Lexus evening, called “Experience Amazing,” highlighted the precision it takes to engineer a car, which we drive to get here; and a dinner, which we are happy to partake of. Chele starts us on white asparagus with toffee puree, a flavor so subtle it gets your mouth ready for the anchovies butter to spread on fresh, warm sourdough bread.
Homemade and cured Japanese wagyu jamon follows with a toast of bread with boqueron (anchovy) marinated in vinegar, parsley, and extra virgin olive oil; on the side are wood-fired red peppers.
The grilled carabinero or Spanish red prawn is the hands-down winner. A pair spread flat on each plate, they are the asado you wouldn’t share with anyone.
For the cured pork jaw with sautéed mushrooms and egg yolk, Chele comes around to shave a black truffle onto each plate. If the eyes eat first and are followed by the nose that smells this truffle from Italy, by the time the mouth actually tastes it, your sensory experience goes up to 11.
The suckling lamb, the seventh course for the evening, is slow-roasted and comes with stewed potatoes and green salad.
Bookending the dinner is a vanilla flan from a recipe of Chele’s family. The texture is different from any other flan I’ve tasted. Whoever taught Chele to cook this deserves a hug from each diner that orders it at Asador Alfonso.
Needless to say
I’ve made it to the end of my story without once calling Calma “innovative.” It’s so obvious it would be like saying water is wet while your hands are under the tap. And it’s more fun to express it in a thousand words and thoughts instead of that one overused word.
I’m only here to say, in a rather long way, that very few things in life stop me in my tracks. This stunning building that got me reacting viscerally and fixating on its details and empty spaces—this is one of them.
