www.ft.com By Marilia Duffles One can't cannot help but be moved by the sights of Cambodia, particularly the forest engulfed ruins of the colossal Angkor temples with their miles of stone walls. All were created by diligent Khmers, an unconsciously humble people who maintained a gentle spirit in spite of backbreaking labour and the tyranny of Pol Pot.

Perhaps it is this legacy of craftsmanship that accounts for the remarkable success of Hok Sokol's first architectural project. A young graduate of the Royal University of Fine Arts in Phnom Penh, he started work by zooming around Siem Reap on the back of his motorcycle, with client Joyce Clark in tow, searching for traditional wooden Khmer houses. He quickly convinced her that there were precious few left (because concrete is easier and cheaper) and that she should abandon her desire for the simple lines of a Hawaiian plantation house.

His argument just happened to match Clark's sensibility. Captivated by the history of Angkor temples and sensitive to the plight of Cambodians, she decided to build a heritage house that one day would belong to them. In the meantime, it is a spirited refuge for her and her friends for four months of the year, when she leaves her base in San Francisco to spend time researching and co-editing a book on the Bayon Temple and working on education and conservation programmes for Friends of Khmer Culture.

The graceful Banteay Srei temple (967 AD), a "female citadel" of eye- pleasing pink sandstone, served as Sokol's static muse and Clark's scholarly visual preference, and it is easy to see why. The most elaborately decorated of all of Angkor's monuments, its gentle feminine curves give it understated grandeur. And the serenity it radiates as visitors gaze upon its cosy but sensual aesthetics no doubt comes from its proportion and balance, two requisite elements in the design of traditional Khmer houses.

Clark's house embodies this. The style is not self-conscious; instead, it is unpretentiously self-aware of its beauty, deeply traditional nature and sensible utility. Relatively small (1,600 sq ft), it is made entirely of handsome Cambodian ironwood and teak (kokoh and koki), with a simple but functional layout, and lots of elegant verandas - imperative in this sticky-hot climate.

Temple reliefs show that a typical 10th century Khmer farming family house is much like Clark's. These were one-storey wood structures on stilts with a stairway leading up to the door and an open space at ground level traditionally for weaving, storing household and farming goods, or keeping domesticated animals at night. Conversely, the muddy watered moat Sokol designed reflects those throughout the Angkor temples.

Upstairs, there is a library, master bedroom with bath, and exotically inviting low seating areas. Though Banteay Srei's "library", considered outstanding by experts, was more shrine than a storehouse of manuscripts, Clark's houses her reference books on Cambodia.

From here she can take inspiration from a moon-viewing terrace (full moons are a "very big deal for Khmers", she notes) and the lovely stone path to the north-east part of the property that leads to the carved wooden spirit-house - the real shrine here - where offerings are made daily.

One of the best things about the house is the carving. The Ramayana takes pride of place in the frontons (pediments) of the characteristically steep sloping roof and is carved with gracefully animated scenes from the famous epic which happens to be the Cambodians' favourite. Aesthetically buttressed at the two ends by the sinuous serpent naga, this quintessential Cambodian architecture helps lift the eyes towards the heavens while mythically sheltering Buddha.

Carvers came from the Royal Palace's conservation programme in Phnom Penh where Sokol was a star pupil under Professor Sam El. Meticulous devotion to detail, passed on to students gratefully relearning skills lost under the Khmer Rouge, is evident in the first cut and last chisel of the carvings in the house. And Clark was deeply touched by the professor's tearful thank you for allowing his pupils a chance to work.

Ten pairs of windows, each with different scenes, and four carved doors robustly show dimension and forms that lavishly ornament without undermining design. Decoration is never greater than the sum of its parts.

Another bow to tradition is the "Ganesh guesthouse" (70 per cent of the main house) named after the elephant-headed Hindu god who is bountifully carved on front and back frontons as if waiting to be dutifully called upon to remove obstacles. Thoughtfully, there are two guest suites; one with a moon-viewing terrace and both with verandas overlooking the canal and bridge to the front of the property.

Between the house and the guest house there is a rectangular lotus pond where sheets of rain often bounce off the surface. The enlightened ancient Khmers used the exotic flower, an exquisite construction of Mother Nature, in its various stages of bloom as carved motifs, and the equally enlightened Clark is, justifiably, "madly in love" with her pond.

More water, an L-shaped lily pond, wraps around the lower level, making for peaceful dining or lounging on the lower level, while the kitchen sits just behind the house, a separate but complementary architectural charmer. In front of the property is the striking moat side, open air gopura (entrance pavilion) harmoniously fitting in so as not to detract, while on the other three sides of the property are walls of laterite (porous rusty-red iron rocks used in Angkor temples) which borrow the delicious colours of Banteay Srei and serve as a dramatic backdrop for the sandstone stupa sitting in a small pond.

When illuminated at night, with shadows dancing dramatically against the walls, it is a spiritual reminder of Clark's late husband whose ashes are lovingly stored inside. In ancient times, people entered the temples not to worship Hindu gods but to prostrate themselves before deified kings. When Clark's western guests enter this exceptional house they will certainly be moved to honour something else: the enlightened Khmer people whose triumphant spirit the home so sublimely personifies.