Elif Tinaztepe: Cultural Resonance

What is it about libraries and cultural projects in general that could improve the design of commercial projects? And, vice versa, do commercial projects have something to teach cultural projects?

All of the above, because in the end it is about putting experience first. Dokk1, our library in Aarhus, was once quoted as a model for an office of the future by a German workplace journal. Dokk1 engages all the senses, providing spaces for collaboration and inspiration as well as for contemplation and focus. It also offers the ability to move between these different modes easily, opening up opportunities for discovery. There is a sense of community, an identity. Those are some of the same qualities we discuss when we design workplaces, educational facilities, or start-up spaces.

There are benefits on the other side as well. In our engagement with Fisketorvet, which was led by my colleague Nanna Wohlfeldt, we were tasked with transforming an existing shopping mall from an introverted consumer space to an extroverted experiential asset for the entire city. This had us thinking back to when commerce was not only a transactional activity, but a cultural exchange that gave life to communities. Our client’s first step was a solid business plan which was underpinned and supported by long-term design strategies. They used our design expertise early on to think out of the box and support their long-term development model. I think having a solid business plan supported by design strategies as a first step could be beneficial for some cultural projects. It would allow them to explore their options and build a solid foundation so that they can remain ambitious and actually realize the project.

When you are designing a project, what experience do you want to create for those who will use it and how do you achieve it? Does the spatial experience you’re going for change depending on the typology, client, location, etc.?

It changes from project to project but I suppose I am looking for something transformative in that particular context. I am interested in exploring spatial diversity and how that experience affects the way we feel, act, and engage. Designing from the inside out as well as the outside in. I use a lot of time imagining what it will be like walking in the shoes of the users, how they will move through and experience the space, the building, the city; how they will be able to impact it by inhabiting it. What they will see and hear and whether that experience will change over the course of a day, season, year. Will the building feel welcoming or are we looking for a sober monumentality? Or both?

There is a word in Danish called indlevelse which translates as empathy, but I have to admit I like the Danish version better because it involves an action: It is about “living in” someone else’s position, a combination of logical comprehension and total feeling. I hope the people who use our spaces feel uplifted, surprised, and sometimes even moved. I am interested in engaging all our senses, in creating spaces that unlock the possibility to work, play, and interact with each other and our contexts differently. I also strive to create a sense of shared ownership and a sense of possibility across differences, as well as a generosity of spirit that makes you want to come back again and again. We call it cultural resonance.

There are many phases to an architectural project, from concept to construction. Is there a part of the process you like best and, if so, why?

Everything. From setting the vision to realization—from the big picture to the shape of a door handle. Danish architectural practice has a long tradition of viewing design holistically, and I really believe in the strength of that attitude. Creating an overarching vision and letting it guide the design through all phases and scales is our strength. Switching between phases and scales keeps the mind sharp, too. I think every architect should give themselves the gift of seeing a project through to completion. I will never forget the moment when users walked into Dokk1 for the first time on opening day, seeing children running around barefoot, visitors owning the building within seconds. In the same breath, the moment you get a brief in your hands is a promise like no other.

Has architecture changed much over your career, both from the point of view of methodology as well as the central concerns of the profession? If there’s one thing you could change about the way you work now, what would it be?

We live in interesting times where we try, as a profession, to navigate change—climate, technology, the consequences of globalization… the list goes on. And while one could argue this has always been the case, interdependence makes it more complex. It can feel overwhelming. There is no longer a silver bullet or an overarching  “-ism” that strictly defines the rules of our profession. All solutions need to be anchored in context to be meaningful. I think instead of viewing this as a confused state of our practice, we should be encouraged by this richness and learn from each other’s experiences. Architecture is about creating a sense of agency, but it is also about beauty and emotions and solving problems. One does not exclude the other. On the contrary.

Process is an interesting question. We are always guided by our core values at SHL—this strong anchor allows us to have a “healthy skepticism” about everything else. Learning from mistakes and failures is a big part of it. With that we constantly refine and evolve our design methodology. This constant dynamism and not being afraid of change are perhaps the most defining characteristics of our studio’s DNA. We’re always trying to maintain a critical angle about the way we practice design and our contribution to the environment.