Tucked away on a leafy street in an upscale Mexico City neighbourhood, the Valner residence stands as a testament to the visionary genius of architect Agustín Hernández. Commissioned by Gregorio and Rosalind Valner, the early 1970s home exemplifies Hernández’s distinctive blend of Modernist principles and pre-Hispanic influences, resulting in a structure that is at once functional and strikingly sculptural.
‘The house was considered avant-garde in every respect. The design responded to the new architectural currents of the time, taking elements from them and reinterpreting them in Agustín Hernández’s own vision,’ explains Mónica Valner, who undertook its restoration in 2018 after her husband, the couple’s son, inherited it. ‘Many architectural features were groundbreaking when it was built.’ Not least the use of windows and skylights to establish a flow between indoors and outdoors; the integration with the surrounding environment; the incorporation of local materials in both construction and décor; and the emphasis on human scale. Indeed, in a nod to Le Corbusier’s The Modulor, the plan is based on a matrix of equilateral triangles, where mathematical precision and an almost symphonic rhythm create 60- and 120-degree rooms – there are no right angles anywhere. While echoes of Frank Lloyd Wright and John Lautner can be felt throughout the property, it was Le Corbusier who most deeply influenced Hernández. The pair never met, but the latter nonetheless regarded the Swiss/French architect as his greatest teacher, studying and analysing his work tirelessly.
‘My in-laws were both highly creative individuals,’ recalls Mónica. ‘Rosalind had a profound appreciation for art and literature, and a special sensitivity to the symbolic and the mystical. Gregorio, on the other hand, admired innovation and took pride in his originality.’
Born in 1929, her father-in-law studied medicine and went on to practise as a psychiatrist from 1956 to 1970, when he radically changed career and took up urban planning, telling people he was now tending to the maladies of cities rather than the ailments of patients. Rosalind, meanwhile, was a New Yorker by birth but spent much of her childhood in Mexico, when her family moved there. A teacher, she became engaged to Gregorio just ten days after their first meeting. In the very early 1970s, the couple learned of a young architect who had designed the Mexican Pavilion for the Japan World Exposition. Intrigued, they visited the nautilus-inspired house he had built for his sister Amalia, the artistic director of the Ballet Folklórico, and immediately decided to hire him themselves.
Clients and architect went on to develop a fruitful relationship, collaborating closely not just on the house but its interior too. Hernández designed the dark, glossy woodwork throughout, including the heavy hardwood doors and ceilings. The marble floors in some of the reception rooms remain original to the house. ‘As for the furniture and décor, most of it was chosen by my in-laws,’ Mónica says. ‘Gregorio and Rosalind had a deep appreciation for modern furniture and had been buying pieces from Knoll since the early 1960s for their previous home and office.’
Following Gregorio’s death in 2016, the residence was put up for sale. At the time, it was so run-down that one prospective buyer suggested demolishing it and rebuilding something new in its place. ‘When I heard that, I was completely horrified, and, after a lot of convincing, I persuaded my husband to take it off the market,’ says Mónica. Thus she embarked on an arduous, two-year-long restoration. Following his divorce from Rosalind in 1978, Gregorio had constantly reimagined the décor and layout of the three-bedroom house. By the time of his death, the original design was buried beneath decades’ worth of his accretions. Terraces and skylights had been covered, leaving the space dark and oppressive. Colonial-style ironwork had been installed as a partition between the living room and mezzanine. ‘Most of the walls and ceilings were draped in fabric, and many of the mid-century pieces had been put into storage, replaced by traditional Mexican furniture and handicrafts, as my father-in-law became deeply interested in collecting them,’ says Mónica.
Her mission was to return the property to its original state. Layer by layer, the added materials and alterations were peeled away. Skylights were uncovered bringing light and air back to the space. Windows and sliding doors with sleek, ultra-thin-profile frames were installed, enhancing the views of the gardens and terraces (also subject to renovation). The feature woodwork that defines the property was restored or replaced, ironwork revived and repainted, limestone repaired. All the walls and ceilings were refinished and repainted, kitchen and bathrooms modernised, broken and missing marble pieces meticulously matched. The old carpeting gave way to wooden floors, while wiring and plumbing were updated to meet 21st-century standards. Mónica explains that the most challenging aspect of the whole process was ‘preserving the home’s spirit and character, respecting its heritage, while also elevating and refreshing the overall quality of it’. All repairs were carefully considered so as to be minimally invasive, match original finishes and discreetly incorporate technical updates.
As for the furniture, Mónica rescued pieces by Florence Knoll, Vincent Cafiero and Richard Schultz (notably the chairs in the breakfast room, reupholstered in alpaca fabric, and two desks in the library). A Warren Platner leather credenza, dining tables by Tobia Scarpa, a ‘Womb’ chair by Eero Saarinen, and Mies van der Rohe sofas and lounge chairs in the living room were all refurbished. Most of the lamps, original to the house, were rewired. ‘There is the original 1970s track lighting, as well as other lamps, such as the Gaetano Sciolari chandeliers and sconces in the dining room, and “Sputnik” chandeliers in the main bedroom,’ she says. ‘I love the Robert Haussmann “Atomic” chandelier, which is used in many variations, colours and sizes in different rooms throughout.’
Mónica reflects on the legacy of Agustín Hernández, considered Mexico’s last great Modern architect. ‘Despite his remarkable contributions, people just didn’t understand the importance of his creations,’ she says. Still, she is deeply satisfied with her own efforts to steward and celebrate his work. The renovation was a transformative experience, she discloses. ‘In the end, remodelling is not just about creating something more functional or beautiful; it’s a journey of growth, change and, ultimately, renewal.’
A version of this article appears in the April 2025 issue of ‘The World of Interiors’. Learn about our subscription offers
Sign up for our weekly newsletter, and be the first to receive exclusive stories like this one, direct to your inbox
