‘Those who always react remain mere executors’

It was very surprising, indeed. We could imagine — if we were to receive an award — that the building would be up for the German Steel Construction Award. After all, we constructed the building very delicately and pushed the design limits. We never expected to come this far at the European level. We always assumed that the prize is actually awarded to something larger and more complex, like a theatre or an airport. In Germany, the discourse paved the way for the project. The fact that the project was able to impress the jury at the Mies Award means that the building can be seen as a prototype, as a model for others. In addition, our building is scalable, can be used in various ways, and could be located in many places.

I believe people like to see a positive image of the future — the fact that this is also compatible with the current discourse on circular construction, for example, is considered very favorably. I think the juries also like that we have built a public building that is accessible to everyone but is not commercialized like many other spaces in the city. We wanted to create complex and stimulating spaces with sophistication and simple elements. People often think that this can only be done with elaborate structures and special details. But a building structure doesn't have to be extravagant to be good.

The Study Pavilion is a kind of prototype for a public building. Due to its accessibility, it is also a statement on how to think about the future of the city. For example, what if this type of building existed in every major city, simply as an accessible space, like a community center? It would be entirely free to use, function as a lounge, and would represent a counter-model to our increasingly established digital lives.

In the future, one could also talk about air-conditioned spaces that provide protection from natural phenomena such as overheated urban areas or extreme weather conditions, which may play a bigger role in the future. Unlike shopping malls, which aim to commit visitors to consumption, a new type of building could emerge where people can simply be together. In such spaces, people can spend the day together in spatial comfort and participate in urban life, regardless of whether one lives in a small shared apartment or in social housing on the outskirts of the city. If cities or municipalities offered people more protected spaces where they could spend time during the day, our resources and spaces would be distributed more fairly.

Yes, because we are observing a decline in retail everywhere, city centers are becoming less attractive, and people are wondering where one can actually meet other than in the digital realm. Such a building type could enrich social and interpersonal interaction. It may have also appealed to the jury that we take up a stance toward the immediate urban space. Every city is happy to have a large university because young people generate a kind of urbanity that one can only wish for in some places. We have always argued that the university must continue to provide a reason for people to go to the campus and not simply stay at home and study digitally.

That certainly plays a major role. It rarely takes opulent interventions to do something well. In my opinion, there is a certain beauty in a structure that is so light that you can't believe it stays up. It has an element of magic, and you start to wonder how it works and how it's made. From that, you interpret abilities, which in turn are perceived as something special. At the same time, using these “delicate” construction methods automatically reduces the amount of material used. This attitude also comes from my art projects: Often, we have to finance and build a lot ourselves. So, if we reduce the amount of material, it's more cost-effective and easier to implement.

This attitude has proven to be sensible in recent years; it can also be a kind of survival mode for architecture. I've always been fascinated by constructive design, I don't design perforated façades, and I don't like building with concrete. I see building elements as parts of a construction kit, and when something can be put together and constructed from many individual things, I really enjoy it.

Let me give you an example of this from the Marrakesh project: We had to wrap 150 km of rope around the structure within two weeks. With five people on the team, that was 30 km of rope per person. So, the first question was how much each person could walk in a day. We started, tested, and eventually increased the distance between the ropes to speed up. We carried small spools, and we continuously optimized all processes. What is ultimately created is always a result of the resources available. You automatically start to design according to the circumstances.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure whether this has already been sufficiently implemented. I also know many departments that still do their design assignments in a very old-school way. When I teach, I try to be as experimental as possible, introduce new questions, and inspire students to find their own way.

Sometimes, however, it seems to me that the discipline of architecture and also teaching, out of a sense of duty to the environment, focuses so much on sustainability issues that spatial qualities, design, and the question of what happens in these spaces become secondary. A discourse on materials arises, which I see more in the engineering sector than in architecture. From my point of view, maximum sustainability in architecture should be a given, and there should be more talk about design again.

I view the spectrum of architecture somewhere between art and service. If you position yourself too much at one extreme, it is not helpful. For example, if you have been in the service sector for a long time, you should set yourself new tasks and sharpen your interest so that things remain exciting and you can contribute to the current discourse. Those who always react remain mere executors.

So far, I have been fortunate that I usually did not have to work on several projects in parallel. Every time a project was completed, I could start a new one. Honestly, last year we only did three competitions and won all three, which is somehow absurd. After Braunschweig, we did Tel Aviv, then a competition for a bridge in Bavaria, and just recently we won the competition for a large university building. Each project had its own theme; and topics that we could only touch on in the previous project are developed in greater detail in the next design, newly applied, and possibly also addressed in the next art project. For me, there is actually no difference between these projects, whether in the context of art or architecture; it's always about space, material, and structure.

Thank you very much for the conversation and have a good time in Barcelona, where you will receive the Mies van der Rohe Award on May 14.