As an architect, I work with images every day. They help me make design choices and select materials. But an image is more than just a visual tool— it is a spatial language, an actor. An image from a particular perspective can shape how we experience space and assign meaning to our surroundings. It is therefore important to understand how images actually work in order to create and use them effectively. This is not real. The Triangle of Image Formation The way an image is composed goes beyond aesthetics and the commercial aspect. It is a behavior-shaping dynamic interplay between perception, interpretation, and creation. Every image moves within a continuous tension between three elements: - Perception: what our eyes actually register. - The mental image: how we perceive and interpret it. - The counter-image: the way we recreate reality. Even a simple photo is not an objective representation of reality, but an interpretation, an extraction of a moment that can never fully capture the truth. In a world where we live in a digital metaverse via social media, we constantly experience this alienation. What we see is no longer a raw representation of reality, but a curated, filtered reconstruction of it. The (Un)conscious Deformation of Reality Just as the Renaissance painting technique sfumato softened contours and colors to create a suggestive, dreamy effect, modern digital editing distorts our perception of what is real. Humans are inherently imperfect, yet they strive for perfection. This tension is not new. Shakespeare already phrased it in Hamlet : “God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another.” Instagram filters and Photoshop make us believe in a perfect reality where imperfections are erased, where the 'authentic' increasingly becomes a construct. We recreate reality, hide rough edges, and shape a world to our desires. But is this an attempt to manipulate reality, or to recreate it? Here lies a fundamental difference between, for example, a collage and Photoshop: one is a conscious, artistic reinterpretation, while the other is sometimes a morally questionable attempt to construct an alternative truth. Topos: The Photo as Divine Art A good image makes the absent present. This concept aligns with the classical idea of topos : the shared space where art gains a near-divine power to make something palpable that does not yet physically exist. Architecture itself and art share this quality. They transform an abstract idea into a tangible experience. A drawing, a visualization, or a collage is not merely a representation of a future building; it is a promise, a glimpse into a world yet to be realized. Just as a painting is more than paint on canvas, an architectural representation is more than a technical illustration—it is a translation of vision and emotion. Creativity vs. Manipulation: An Ethical Question When is an image a creative interpretation, and when does it become deception? In architecture, this is a delicate issue. A render can make a space feel like a sunlit, harmonious environment, while the final building, due to regulations, budget, or practical considerations, might feel very different. The power and the danger of image formation lie in these manipulations. Image as Architectural Language As an architect, I use images not (only) to present designs but to tell stories, evoke moods, and give meaning to space. Image is a language in itself, a bridge in consciousness between the world as we know it and the world as we dream of it. And perhaps therein lies the true magic: in the tension between reality and imagination, between imperfection and our desire for perfection. What we see, what we think, and what we create form an endless dialogue—a game in which architecture is not just about building but primarily about giving meaning to our surroundings. ~Ar. K imberly Wouters This story is inspired by the book I recently read > certainly a MUST READ: "Instagrammable: What Art Tells Us about Social Media" van Koenraad Jonckheere (2024). > zeker een mustread ! The collage is a conjecture of architectural visualisations and images from a recent trip to the exposition at the MoMu Antwerpen: Maskerade, make-up & Ensor

When I first encountered the term "care architecture," it struck me as heavy, vague, and morally trendy. It seemed like the showpiece of post-pandemic exhibitions and lectures, where architects could bask in societal relevance. I didn't attend—not out of disinterest, but because it felt like a form of self-legitimization rather than genuine engagement. Today, I see it differently. Not because academic discourse suddenly became more convincing, but because care took on a face at the kitchen table. Parents wanting to share their home with their children or seeking a nearby place for their care-dependent daughter. No exhibition, no theory, but concrete life stories calling for proximity, autonomy, and space to live together without losing each other. "two stories, one home" From that moment, I understood: care doesn't belong in a separate architectural category. There is no such thing as care architecture; there is only architecture that cares—and architecture that doesn't. Every architect who assumes societal responsibility should design with care. Care as an Attitude For me, care in architecture isn't about wider doorways or accessible ramps—though these are essential. It's about an attitude: designing with attention to relationships, dependencies, vulnerability, and rhythm. Care begins and ends at home. Our way of living—how we build, organize, and distribute—lies at the root of many problems: loneliness, housing shortages, care crises. We've become accustomed to a housing model where each family has its own enclosed unit, far from family or community. Autonomy became an ideology but turned into isolation. There are alternatives. In other cultures, cohabitation is more naturally organized: multigenerational living, housing cooperatives, cohousing. Even closer to home, we know traditions of shared living: beguinages, monasteries. Perhaps it's time to dare to rethink that logic.  As Halewijn Lievens states: "Care is not only made invisible; one could argue that it is to some extent even rendered superfluous by organizing living in such a way that people are better able to care for themselves and their loved ones." Rethinking Living: A Practical Example A project from my own design practice illustrates this. A 1970s tent house with a split-level structure—at first glance unsuitable for care-dependent individuals with mobility issues faced by the current residents. There are simply too many level differences that almost guarantee inaccessibility to various spaces. But alongside these challenges lies potential: two driveways, a spacious garage at garden level, separate access. The solution is a transformation into a multi-family home, a contemporary kangaroo house where the daughter and her family occupy the higher split-level areas, and the parents have their own unit on the ground floor—formerly the garage, with a small extension and no level differences. The daughter faces southwest—the street side; the parents face the garden: the northeast side. Each has autonomy, but there's also a crucial extra: a shared intermediate space. Not a private space. Not a communal kitchen: a third place, a space nestled between the two, not fully appropriable, but also not noncommittal. A place for meeting without obligation. For proximity without suffocation. A space also used during family celebrations, or quietly on a random morning, or as access to the garden from the front of the house.* The Third Place as Gentle Strength This third place is not a corridor or technical interim solution. It's not a gadget from a handbook. It's the beating heart of caring architecture. A place that provides space for relational dynamics: space that moves with the need for proximity or distance. Sometimes that's an indoor room, as in the practical example; sometimes a garden path along a hedge with a bench under a tree near a care unit in the garden. These are spaces that don't prescribe but architecturally, this requires subtlety. Suggestions instead of rules. Structures supported by human interaction. There's only one rule I would dare to establish: these spaces must be work on a human scale. Architecture as Gentle Structure Caring architecture is not a typology or style. It's a way of working that starts from relationships. From listening to what's needed, in a specific place, with specific people. The third place is the externalization of that attitude. A fluid place, a gentle no-man's-land where care can emerge—without shame, without patronization, without a hero role for the architect. In times of aging populations, loneliness, and growing social isolation, there's a need for architecture that dares to care. Not by paternalistically directing, but by creating space. For meeting. For freedom of choice. For proximity and distance. A We don't design buildings. We design frameworks for living together. And if we do that well, even gentle structures can be strong. Care is not a burden. It's an opportunity. Care is not a typology. It's an attitude that makes architecture visible. Space that breathes. Space that fosters care. ~Ar. K imberly Wouters *The project is custom work and still a work in progress at the time of publishing this story.

As a child of the mining landscape of Beringen-Mijn, I have always been fascinated by the site 'Le Grand-Hornu.' This historic industrial mining complex in the Borinage, southwest of Mons, has been listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2012. What makes Le Grand-Hornu so special is not only the preservation of the historical mining buildings but also the forward-thinking vision of Henri De Gorge. His paternalistic approach to the work-life balance transformed the site into an early masterpiece of functional urban planning in the 19th century. Form is destroyed and rebuilt at Le Grand-Hornu De Gorge went beyond merely constructing workshops, offices, and his own residence. He designed an entire urban district, including a way of life for his workers, with the goal of binding them to the company. In the early 19th century, seasonal work in the mines was mainly done by farmers, which made it difficult for De Gorge to find permanent employees. To solve this problem, he created an almost utopian environment by addressing the living conditions of the people. Often, entire families slept in one room without any comfort or sanitary facilities. De Gorge built stone houses with advanced living comforts. Child labor from the age of 6 was almost a necessity in the nineteenth century. De Gorge built a boys' and girls' school and introduced mandatory education until the age of 12. The site also offered amenities such as a hospital, kiosk, ballroom, and park. Thus, De Gorge created an island of better living conditions that attracted people. The downside was that De Gorge kept strict control over his workers: he managed their lives in a dictatorial manner. His paternalistic vision manifested in a purposeful layout of these functions, with the housing arranged around the heart of the site with the workshop. When we analyze the urban layout, we see a clearly functional and formal whole in a modernist sense. The workshop itself is characterized by the cour centrale: an oval courtyard surrounded by the arcade workshops, the machine hall, and the engineers' building in neoclassical style. Everyone sees everything, everything is seen: panopticon style—a well-known concept for prisons. Am I drawing a parallel between a prison and the work zone of Le Grand Hornu? From a 21st-century Western perspective: yes. Of course, the necessary nuance must be made. De Gorge partially had the best intentions. Naively enough, I do believe he sincerely wished for social progress. Realistically, he was also driven by one of the greatest motivators of the industrialized world: money. Money makes the world go round. Efficiency and increasing productivity were surely high on the agenda, and according to tradition, he achieved this as well. NeoClassical style: shepard, scavenger or slave? The most significant testimony to his success is the castle he had built. Adjacent to the engineers' building is De Gorge's castle, while on the other side lies the cité with workers' housing. Again, a spatial translation of his paternalistic ideology with a strict hierarchy. His castle is quite opulent compared to the workers' houses. The brick houses, except for the corner houses, were all identical. The corner houses were intended for the supervisors—the porions—who oversaw both the mine and the neighborhood. Each house had its own sanitary facilities, with two rooms on the ground floor and three upstairs, and the residents shared a bakehouse per two dwellings. The rows of houses were separated by a 12-meter-wide avenue, inspired by the Haussmann plan. This wide street and the private sanitary facilities were innovative and seem to be the precursor to what later became the "air, light, and health" credo of modernism. The modernist seed is not only evident in the workers' houses. You can also recognize a form of pre-modernism in the workshops. The arcade workshops, for example, clearly refer to the classical architecture of the ancient Greeks and Romans, with the arches and classical structure. However, there is a modern twist that breaks with natural building forces: form is deliberately created here. Although the cour centrale formed by this arcade seems symmetrical at first glance, a closer look reveals the presence of four distinct quadrants. Is this authentic, or a reinterpretation? Here, form seems to be destroyed by the creation of objectification, making it a postmodern artifact avant la lettre. Although mining was essentially heavy and often dangerous physical labor, the use of the neoclassical style can also be seen as an attempt to elevate and glorify this work. By designing mining buildings as imposing, classical temples of industry, the work in the mines was almost elevated to a noble activity, fitting the grandeur of classical civilizations. The neoclassical style was also associated with the Enlightenment and the belief in the power of reason and progress. By designing mining buildings in this style, a connection was made between industrial progress (mining) and the rational, enlightened ideals that would form the basis for a better future. Coming full circle: that better future lay in the glorified work and modern stone houses on the other side of the site. Like all mining sites, Le Grand-Hornu closed. After decline and rescue by enthusiasts, Le Grand-Hornu now offers an interesting mix of archaeology, authentic neoclassical architecture, and hybrid contemporary architecture under the guise of adaptive reuse. This repurposing activates the site in a way that transcends the past and comes close to our humanity: culture. This is reflected in the CID (Center for Innovation and Design) and the MACS (Museum of Contemporary Art). Is culture the new revitalization effort to bind the working population to a capitalist model? Time will tell... But one thing is certain: history is cyclical. ~Ar. K imberly Wouters

Infrastructure is architecture on a broad spectrum. In this narrative, we go beyond the art of architectural physicality. Architecture is, after all, our everyday environment: how we experience and shape our lives. It encompasses the physical infrastructure – the buildings, roads, bridges, tunnels – and the mental structures that literally and figuratively sustain our world. In reality, infrastructure spans both aspects and is of fundamental importance to architecture, being symptomatic of the state of our society. Infrastructure is an incoherent collection of transcendent places, connecting us, moving us, and both shaping and reflecting our culture. Infrastructure represents places of arrival and future... Care to philosophise with me? When we look at a building, we see a physical manifestation of ideas, shaped by materials and organised into a structure that can be both functional and aesthetic. On a small scale, we see how life wraps around this structure. Visibly, a corporeal poem emerges: light dancingly marks the time of day before our eyes. It indicates when we can open and close our eyes. It provides a setting against which we can dance, shout, argue, laugh... The structure organises the time of the home, the building, the built life. A materialisation of the rhythm of life. We are exposed to a sensitivity to the delineated territory and the supra-physical relationships between us and the places we occupy or think we borrow the occupation of. On a larger scale, think of a bridge or a motorway, the focus shifts. Infrastructure evolves into an interaction between the seemingly permanent and the transcendent of the domestic scale. The domestic points A and B – by which I mean primary destinations such as your home, workplace, places of family and friends – are projected as static destinations. The permanent gains importance, while the transcendent infrastructure in between disappears as a void in our conscious perception. Yet it is the void that gains significance: it is the void that shapes the socio-economic and cultural connection points of our society. Take, for example, the first cast iron bridge in the world: the Iron Bridge over the River Severn in Shropshire, Great Britain. This bridge was a technical marvel of its time and heralded the industrial age of large iron and steel structures like the Eiffel Tower or the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris. Progress, with its accompanying optimism, had arrived. Without this bridge, or rather the symbolism behind this bridge, we might not recognise the world as we know it today. One moment it's here, the next it's gone. Just like the Orient Express gliding through a beautiful landscape. The void is metaphysical. The road is physically self-evident and mentally seemingly self-evident. A hundred years ago, taking a plane was almost unheard of. The view from a plane was invisible: birds don’t fly that high, and certainly not humans, until the miracle grew into mundane infrastructure. Now airports are (important) transit places. The arrival of your identity and entity into a (different?) society. An arrival. An arrival with a different socio-economic future. Air travel has made globalisation possible. A generic unification? Thankfully not. Airports as transit places. You feel the space: the space of the possibilities of being. The excitement of flying for the first time in billions of years on our blue planet. Furthermore, infrastructure is a stimulating springboard out of the mental impasse imposed by the social class system. A contradiction? Give it some social perspective. For my location, the best reference is: accessible social housing. For people in Croatia, in Dubrovnik, it’s the recently built bridge that connects the peninsula to the mainland. I let you do the critical thinking. In conclusion: destinations are linked by metaphysical voids that form the core of our emotional appropriation of the experience of space. The embodiment of the void is the dynamism of architecture on the broad spectrum. ~Ar. K imberly Wouters Epilogue The digital is a bridge. The Iron Bridge of today for the art of shaping our daily lives: we are squatters in this metaverse world, working with found objects to borrow spatial occupation. A nod to the Silosophy project in my academic portfolio.

The public library is the place where I came every Saturday as a child to choose stories. The whole week I spent in a fantasy world, looking forward to the next visit to the library. The library is also the place where I first used a computer, took shelter from the rain while waiting for the bus home, tasted buffalo worms and crickets, and attended a mocktail workshop. Not what you would expect, right? However, the library as a social center is not a new concept: Andrew Carnegie, an influential American industrialist of the late 19th and early 20th centuries and philanthropist, believed in the power of public libraries. Specifically, to provide educational opportunities to those who would otherwise not have the means to acquire certain knowledge. His contribution to the construction of numerous public libraries, especially in the United States of America, has significantly contributed to the overall level of literacy and education in the entire Western world. He broke boundaries by providing space for knowledge development not only for men but also for women and even children. This certainly translates into architecture as well. Most libraries were focused on practical space-efficient design and accessibility. Everyone, regardless of social class or age, was and still is welcome. Large reading rooms where the collection is not separated, rooms for educational programs with auditoriums, and frequently used community spaces for meetings of, for example, women's clubs, contribute to that public character. It creates space for community engagement. A critical note is that libraries were often only accessible after climbing a staircase. From the concept of 'thirteen steps of knowledge,' those who are truly ambitious and find value in the library would climb the stairs. Those for whom climbing the stairs was too much would not be deemed worthy of knowledge. While these stairs excluded people who wanted to access the library but were physically unable to climb the stairs, such as the elderly. Bittersweet philanthropy: only available to productive people who would contribute to society and could participate in the capitalist game that Carnegie's rags-to-riches story had depicted. Not everyone received the necessary funding from Carnegie. Communities had to complete an application (not a simple task in a time of widespread illiteracy) and submit their plans. The plans had to comply with a pamphlet that Carnegie and his partners had drafted between 1903 and 1911 after consulting with top librarians and architects. This pamphlet, "Notes on the Erection of Library Buildings," provided 5-6 scenarios for the planned layout of the library with recommendations based on the size of the building and the plot. The pamphlet also emphasized adaptability for future expansion along the northern facade, which had to remain as plain and windowless as possible. This turned out to be a wise calculation, as many libraries expanded over time along with their collections. To have a lasting impact, these libraries were often designed and constructed using sustainable materials and construction methods. "Notes on the Erection of Library Buildings" is still relevant today. Over the years, with the development of basic education and the rise of the internet, the focus has shifted from pure knowledge acquisition. The use of the library has evolved from pure education to a mixed-use with relaxation and interaction. Think, for example, of the regular visitor who comes every morning to read his newspaper, retirees looking for a chat in the coffee corner, and even the more organized book club... This shared experience leads to dialogue. By providing space for that dialogue, a library positions itself at the heart of our digital society as social infrastructure and a resilient center. In essence, libraries transcend their physical presence. They offer comfort, companionship, and a refuge from digital noise. Much needed in a society where loneliness is growing and people are increasingly becoming isolated in their own metaverse. A good example of a 'modern' library where attention has been paid to a central forum is the library of Beringen in Belgium. A library with a circular ground plan where a large void creates a central space for all kinds of activities. Around this void, on the ground floor, various functions such as a reading room, coffee corner, lending counters, but also a computer corner and children's corner are located. On the upper floors, shelves with adventures and intimate reading corners alternate. The recent expansion with the multipurpose hall, reading terrace, and initiatives such as workshops, plant library... truly make this library a vibrant heart of the community of Beringen. This investment was worth it, especially after the closure of local neighborhood libraries due to budget cuts. But that's a story for another time. In conclusion, the public library symbolizes a safe, open, and free public place where childhood memories meet adult needs. From the first encounters with stories to taking shelter from the rain and eating crickets, the library transcends its physical space to become a beacon of community involvement and knowledge dissemination. Inspired by visionary efforts of figures such as Andrew Carnegie, libraries have evolved into centers of social contact that dynamically respond to the changing needs of society. At the same time, principles of inclusivity and even sustainability remain part of their core identity. In the digital age, the library remains an essential antidote to growing loneliness, an oasis amidst the chaos of the virtual world. Through thoughtful design and innovative programming, libraries like those in Beringen embody the enduring relevance of these cultural institutions, as drivers of community cohesion and resilience. As we look back on the past and into the future, one thing remains clear: the library continues to shape our collective story, offering a refuge where analog and digital worlds come together. It is the place where the spirit of exploration and connection thrives. ~ K imberly Wouters, Architect. *Fearful Cricketnoises* Source on Carnegie's libraries: CAPPS,K., How Andrew Carnegie Built the Architecture of American Literacy , internet, 28 oktober 2014, (17 maart 2024), https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2014-10-28/how-andrew-carnegie-built-the-architecture-of-american-literacy . Link to the main public library of Beringen : Startpagina | Bibliotheek Beringen Fragments about and out of "Notes on the Erection of Library Buildings":

Art is intertwined with every aspect of our modern societies worldwide. It is a universal condition of being human, with a focus on approaching life. Architecture is a profession that guides and shapes the experience of daily life. In these times of multiple crises, can the integration of art offer a new perspective in the search for resilient design, encompassing ecological, economic, and social dimensions? Since the earliest cave paintings, art has been revolutionary. According to the architect Adolf Loos (1870-1933), art opens up new paths for humanity. He notes that, unlike architecture, art is a private matter and doesn't require justification. Is this why art is often superficially employed in our public spaces? It is easy and politically safe to objectively place a sculpture on every roundabout to meet a cultural agenda. For Belgium, I am referring to directive MOW/AWV/2013/8 by the Roads and Traffic Agency on May 8, 2013, which serves as a model for a concession agreement for the installation of artwork on a roundabout, the introduction is promising: "Flanders has a strong tradition in the field of art in public space. Our cities are visited, among other things, because of the public immovable art heritage located on streets and squares of large and small cities." This is true and why? The art heritage is the result of a long and sometimes tumultuous history. Art tells stories, symbolizes local heroes, and creates connections. That is what art does: based on spectator participation, it makes one reflect on an inherent message linked to the local context. It is meaningful because it evokes emotions. It is inherently reflective and transformative. Paradoxically, art, with its intimacy and private nature, assumes a public role when qualitatively framed within public space. The boundary between art and architecture as such is thus not as straightforward as conservative views suggest. Key elements in this perspective are spectator participation, the situational, and the activation of emotions and stories with aesthetics. If we continue reading the introduction of the directive, it states: "Also in shaping the public space of the 21st century, a conscious reflection on the artistic potential of new urban planning data such as the roundabout is necessary." Indeed, shaping the public space of the 21st century requires a conscious reflection on the artistic potential. But to claim that this pertains to new urban planning data and specifically roundabouts is challenging. Public space is, by my definition, space that can be used by everyone: streets, squares, gardens, public buildings such as town halls, cultural centers,... These are the places where you can encounter everyone at any given moment. These are the places where, from a sociological point of view, you can go, possibly sit down, and watch all passers-by and their activities. It is entertainment and related to everyone's intimate story and actions. A roundabout is infrastructure for cars and cyclists. It is an island physically separated from public space: a no man's land. To make this a focal point of artistic reflection on public space in the 21st century is particularly sad. Furthermore, because the text mainly focuses on the functional aspect "the artwork is listed as a possibility to make the roundabout 'less dangerous'." The text corrects itself with "But a functional starting point cannot be the only criterion when starting an artistic process. After all, the realization of a work of art should initially convey a cultural ambition. Therefore, from the perspective of local government, it is important to seek the necessity of furnishing the roundabout with artwork." In reality, this misses the mark. Art is context-specific, site-specific: artificially forcing art onto no man's land begs for meaningless objects that contribute nothing to the representation of public spaces in the 21st century or to current culture or contemporary trends that will be passed on to future generations. It demonstrates a lack of perspective and long-term vision. I certainly do not want to condemn every artwork on every roundabout as meaningless and empty, but merely question the mindset. Is the establishment of roundabout art truly representative of art in public space? Has there been consideration of the situational? Does the art create connections? Can the art ever become part of our valued heritage to connect future generations with stories about our lives now? To what extent is there spectator participation that goes beyond marking specific reference points on a road like name signs? This implementation of politically culture-washed art integration on roundabouts will certainly not offer us broader perspectives on the filling of public space and, by extension, sustainable architecture in general. Yet, art integration is not completely written off. Art is an oscillation, intimate, based on subjectivity, and dependent on the observer. Art viewed from user participation can facilitate integration with architecture to create hybrid situations suitable for our 21st-century society. Architecture, seen from Loos's perspective, can use artintegration as a critique of itself and create meaning in reflecting on the relationships that have emerged and our societal entity as a whole. It is a mirror that connects us with another side of our daily lives and opens us up to new opportunities. Art can detach us from the obsessive focus on limits, especially within the ecological debate, where what we are no longer allowed to do is a childish impediment to innovation. The key lies in integration: where user participation in art is mainly important for meaning-making after the work is formed, for architecture, it lies precisely in the design process before the final conception of the work. To create quality architecture from a sustainable long-term perspective and with a certain continuity, art must be integrated into the design process. Only then can the needs of users, residents, informal co-designers, be considered. Architecture must start from the people for whom it designs. A second condition and consequence when art integration is done right is the situational. By adjusting art to its environment and using aesthetics to increase perception, people become more aware of their surroundings. Increased awareness leads to adjusted behavior: living in accordance with the environment rather than imposing our own needs, resulting in an artificial and harmful context. Especially from an ecological perspective, this is important. Back to the roots of the treehouse. One of the lighthouse projects of the New European Bauhaus initiative for irresistible circularity in Herlev, Copenhagen focuses on the development of public spaces with an identity through art integration and storytelling. Madeleine Kate McGowan is the artistic leader of 'A Place of Being' at NXT and discusses this project in the Desire Academy podcast. A shelter in the form of a glass droplet is where the local gardener/concierge can be found. With this, they want to explore what we know: the old caretaker who takes care of the functionality of a building, now often disappeared due to the anonymous corporation/security company. This character is modernized and is responsible for taking care of and facilitating our relationship with public space and everything that entails. On the one hand, this is about establishing a relationship with the space itself, its materiality, textures, the genius loci itself, but also with all other life: the biotope. Various artists take on the role of caretaker and try to engage people with their works, performances, and processes through various workshops. Not only the end result counts, but also the process. Thanks to the architecture of the glass droplet as a studio, you can follow the artist's process at all times, including all failed attempts. A being of place where art integration and architecture strive for a sustainable future and an open attitude. Conclusion: In these times of multiple crises, can art integration offer a new perspective on the search for resilient design , encompassing ecological, economic, and social dimensions? Yes, provided there is critical local design starting from informality. As Jane Jacobs described it: Bottom-up design instead of top-down. We know it, we just need to put it into practice more, like the lighthouse project in Copenhagen. Quality projects often start with visionary designers, but to make this generally applicable, a restructuring of political vision is needed. Stop ticking paper boxes, look to the new reality. As for designers: open up new perspectives and take matters into your own hands. ~ K imberly Wouters , Architect. In written sequence Service order for the roundabout art: https://wegenenverkeer.be/sites/default/files/uploads/documenten/MOW-AWV-2013-8.pdf More information on "The Desire Academy- Towards an irresistable circular society" Desire ( irresistiblecircularsociety.eu ) The Desire Podcast and the adressed episode: PODCAST The Desire Academy - Desire ( irresistiblecircularsociety.eu ) References/ projects in the collage: Chapel of the Clarenhof in Hasselt by A2O architecten The droplet of the lighthouse project in Copenhagen (Desire Academy/ New European Bauhaus) Roundabout art in Maasmechelen Lapis Lazuli brick of Hans van Houwelingen in the troubleyn in reference to the Flemish Primitives Quote of the artwork by Alberto Garutti in the foyer of het Troubleyn (amor fati). Reference to the context of the site in Limburg (Maasmechelen), specifically the past of coalmines (R- Resilient design)

As an architect, you need to be a jack-of-all-trades. You should know the thermal properties of glass, which building subsidies the client is entitled to, but also how people like to sit in a chair, use their kitchen, and how far a whisper can travel. There are no definitive lists of architectural wisdom that dictate what knowledge makes you worthy of the title architect, although Michael David Sorkin (August 2, 1948 – March 26, 2020) made an admirable attempt. He was an American architectural and urban critic, designer, and educator, regarded as one of the most outspoken public intellectuals in architecture, a polemical voice in contemporary culture and the design of urban spaces at the turn of the twenty-first century. In his book "What Goes Up," Sorkin described 250 things an architect should know. I must admit that I certainly don’t know or haven’t experienced everything on this list. Nevertheless, it is enjoyable to occasionally go through this list and assess my knowledge and position in this regard. How well do you score on this list? 1.The feel of cool marble under bare feet. 2.How to live in a small room with five strangers for six months. 3.With the same strangers in a lifeboat for one week. 4.The modulus of rupture. 5.The distance a shout carries in the city. 6.The distance of a whisper. 7.Everything possible about Hatshepsut’s temple (try not to see it as “modernist” avant la lettre). 8.The number of people with rent subsidies in New York City. 9.In your town (include the rich). 10.The flowering season for azaleas. 11.The insulating properties of glass. 12.The history of its production and use. 13.And of its meaning. 14.How to lay bricks. 15.What Victor Hugo really meant by “this will kill that.” 16.The rate at which the seas are rising. 17.Building information modeling (BIM). 18.How to unclog a Rapidograph. 19.The Gini coefficient. 20.A comfortable tread-to-riser ratio for a six-year-old. 21.In a wheelchair. 22.The energy embodied in aluminum. 23.How to turn a corner. 24.How to design a corner. 25.How to sit in a corner. 26.How Antoni Gaudí modeled the Sagrada Família and calculated its structure. 27.The proportioning system for the Villa Rotonda. 28.The rate at which that carpet you specified off-gasses. 29.The relevant sections of the Code of Hammurabi. 30.The migratory patterns of warblers and other seasonal travelers. 31.The basics of mud construction. 32.The direction of prevailing winds. 33.Hydrology is destiny. 34.Jane Jacobs in and out. 35.Something about Feng Shui. 36.Something about Vastu Shilpa. 37.Elementary ergonomics. 38.The color wheel. 39.What the client wants. 40.What the client thinks it wants. 41.What the client needs. 42.What the client can afford. 43.What the planet can afford. 44.The theoretical bases for modernity and a great deal about its factions and inflections. 45.What post-Fordism means for the mode of production of building. 46.Another language. 47.What the brick really wants. 48.The difference between Winchester Cathedral and a bicycle shed. 49.What went wrong in Fatehpur Sikri. 50.What went wrong in Pruitt-Igoe. 51.What went wrong with the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. 52.Where the CCTV cameras are. 53.Why Mies really left Germany. 54.How people lived in Catal Huyuk. 55.The structural properties of tufa. 56.How to calculate the dimensions of brise-soleil. 57.The kilowatt costs of photovoltaic cells. 58.Vitruvius. 59.Walter Benjamin. 60.Marshall Berman. 61.The secrets of the success of Robert Moses. 62.How the dome on the Duomo in Florence was built. 63.The reciprocal influences of Chinese and Japanese building. 64.The cycle of the Ise Shrine. 65.Entasis. 66.The history of Soweto. 67.What it’s like to walk down Las Ramblas. 68.Backup. 69.The proper proportions of a gin martini. 70.Shear and moment. 71.Shakespeare, et cetera 72.How the crow flies. 73.The difference between a ghetto and a neighborhood. 74.How the pyramids were built. 75.Why. 76.The pleasures of the suburbs. 77.The horrors. 78.The quality of light passing through ice. 79.The meaninglessness of borders. 80.The reasons for their tenacity. 81.The creativity of the ecotone. 82.The need for freaks. 83.Accidents must happen. 84.It is possible to begin designing anywhere. 85.The smell of concrete after rain. 86.The angle of the sun at the equinox. 87.How to ride a bicycle. 88.The depth of the aquifer beneath you. 89.The slope of a handicapped ramp. 90.The wages of construction workers. 91.Perspective by hand. 92.Sentence structure. 93.The pleasure of a spritz at sunset at a table by the Grand Canal. 94.The thrill of the ride. 95.Where materials come from. 96.How to get lost. 97.The pattern of artificial light at night, seen from space. 98.What human differences are defensible in practice. 99.Creation is a patient search. 100.The debate between Otto Wagner and Camillo Sitte. 101.The reasons for the split between architecture and engineering. 102.Many ideas about what constitutes utopia. 103.The social and formal organization of the villages of the Dogon. 104.Brutalism, Bowellism and the Baroque. 105.How to dérive. 106.Woodshop safety. 107.A great deal about the Gothic. 108.The architectural impact of colonialism on the cities of North Africa. 109.A distaste for imperialism. 110.The history of Beijing. 111.Dutch domestic architecture in the seventeenth century. 112.Aristotle’s Politics. 113.His Poetics. 114.The basics of wattle and daub. 115.The origins of the balloon frame. 116.The rate at which copper acquires its patina. 117.The levels of particulates in the air of Tianjin. 118.The capacity of white pine trees to sequester carbon. 119.Where else to sink it. 120.The fire code. 121.The seismic code. 122.The health code. 123.The Romantics, throughout the arts and philosophy. 124.How to listen closely. 125.That there is a big danger in working in a single medium: the logjam you don’t even know you’re stuck in will be broken by a shift in representation. 126.The exquisite corpse. 127.Scissors, stone, paper. 128.Good Bordeaux. 129.Good beer. 130.How to escape a maze. 131.QWRTY. 132.Fear. 133.Finding your way around Prague, Fez, Shanghai, Johannesburg, Kyoto, Rio, Mexico City, Solo, Benares, Bangkok, Leningrad, Isfahan. 134.The proper way to behave with interns. 135.Maya, Revit, CATIA, whatever. 136.The history of big machines, including those that can fly. 137.How to calculate ecological footprints. 138.Three good lunch spots within walking distance. 139.The value of human life. 140.Who pays. 141.Who profits. 142.The Venturi effect. 143.How people pee. 144.What to refuse to do, even for the money. 145.The fine print in the contract. 146.A smattering of naval architecture. 147.The idea of too far. 148.The idea of too close. 149.Burial practices in a wide range of cultures. 150.The density needed to support a pharmacy. 151.The density needed to support a subway. 152.The effect of the design of your city on food miles for fresh produce. 153.Lewis Mumford and Patrick Geddes. 154.Capability Brown, André Le Nôtre, Frederick Law Olmsted, Muso Soseki, Ji Cheng, and Roberto Burle Marx. 155.Constructivism, in and out. 156.Sinan. 157.Squatter settlements via visits and conversations with residents. 158.The history and techniques of architectural representation across cultures. 159.Several other artistic media. 160.A bit of chemistry and physics. 161.Geodesics. 162.Geodetics. 163.Geomorphology. 164.Geography. 165.The law of the Andes. 166.Cappadocia firsthand. 167.The importance of the Amazon. 168.How to patch leaks. 169.What makes you happy. 170.The components of a comfortable environment for sleep. 171.The view from the Acropolis. 172.The way to Santa Fe. 173.The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. 174.Where to eat in Brooklyn. 175.Half as much as a London cabbie. 176.The Nolli Plan. 177.The Cerdà Plan. 178.The Haussmann Plan. 179.Slope analysis. 180.Darkroom procedures and Photoshop. 181.Dawn breaking after a bender. 182.Styles of genealogy and taxonomy. 183.Betty Friedan. 184.Guy Debord. 185.Ant Farm. 186.Archigram. 187.Club Med. 188.Crepuscule in Dharamshala. 189.Solid geometry. 190.Strengths of materials (if only intuitively). 191.Halong Bay. 192.What’s been accomplished in Medellín. 193.In Rio. 194.In Calcutta. 195.In Curitiba. 196.In Mumbai. 197.Who practices? (It is your duty to secure this space for all who want to.) 198.Why you think architecture does any good. 199.The depreciation cycle. 200.What rusts. 201.Good model-making techniques in wood and cardboard. 202.How to play a musical instrument. 203.Which way the wind blows. 204.The acoustical properties of trees and shrubs. 205.How to guard a house from floods. 206.The connection between the Suprematists and Zaha. 207.The connection between Oscar Niemeyer and Zaha. 208.Where north (or south) is. 209.How to give directions, efficiently and courteously. 210.Stadtluft macht frei. 211.Underneath the pavement the beach. 212.Underneath the beach the pavement. 213.The germ theory of disease. 214.The importance of vitamin D. 215.How close is too close. 216.The capacity of a bioswale to recharge the aquifer. 217.The draught of ferries. 218.Bicycle safety and etiquette. 219.The difference between gabions and riprap. 220.The acoustic performance of Boston’s Symphony Hall. 221.How to open the window. 222.The diameter of the earth. 223.The number of gallons of water used in a shower. 224.The distance at which you can recognize faces. 225.How and when to bribe public officials (for the greater good). 226.Concrete finishes. 227.Brick bonds. 228.The Housing Question by Friedrich Engels. 229.The prismatic charms of Greek island towns. 230.The energy potential of the wind. 231.The cooling potential of the wind, including the use of chimneys and the stack effect. 232.Paestum. 233.Straw-bale building technology. 234.Rachel Carson. 235.Freud. 236.The excellence of Michel de Klerk. 237.Of Alvar Aalto. 238.Of Lina Bo Bardi. 239.The non-pharmacological components of a good club. 240.Mesa Verde. 241.Chichen Itza. 242.Your neighbors. 243.The dimensions and proper orientation of sports fields. 244.The remediation capacity of wetlands. 245.The capacity of wetlands to attenuate storm surges. 246.How to cut a truly elegant section. 247.The depths of desire. 248.The heights of folly. 249.Low tide. 250.The Golden and other ratios. ~ Ar. K imberly Wouters

What makes an internship good? It's an opportunity to learn and grow—technically, personally, and entrepreneurially. However, the current system falls short in several areas. In the first part of the series "Horizons of Experience," I shared my experience about my internship abroad. In this second part, I hope to translate my testimony and insights into potential solutions for the frustrations that have arisen along the way regarding the internship system, with a focus on the international internship aspect. An internship reform is needed. From the organization, I've noticed a reluctance towards international internships. Under the belief that Belgian interns should complete their internships in Belgium to learn about the Belgian work field—logical—it is discouraged to spend part of the internship abroad. This feeling is reinforced during internship events and by the difficulties some of my colleagues have experienced when applying for their international internships. This attitude overlooks a wealth of qualities, knowledge, and perspectives that can enrich our Belgian architects and stimulate innovation. Moreover, this attitude is problematic because the new generation is encouraged to look beyond national borders and explore the international field, both from an academic perspective and by our professional role models. Architecture has indeed become an international endeavor. The discrepancy between the international encouragement and the organization's internship vision reduces the intern to a victim of a national struggle on the international field. Like canaries, we cross borders, representing our renowned Belgian architecture only to be exploited as modern slaves. The organization is not solely to blame here, but from its position, it could exert more authority to better protect our interns. The organization could take a leading role within Europe in proactively protecting its interns. This does not require a legal framework: a few preventive control mechanisms, such as a simple video call with the internship supervisor about the setup of the internship, would be a significant step forward. If any red flags arise, the organization can always discuss with the intern or refuse the internship on its own initiative. This measure could also be perfectly extended to our Belgian internships. Just because the organization has more leeway and control over the architectural profession within Belgium does not mean that all Belgian internship places are saints. The organization seems to be a cumbersome entity lacking innovative flow. We need an organization that thinks along with the real needs of our young generation of architects. After all, we are the future of our noble profession. I hope that I am wrong here and that the recent developments within the organization in response to the internship debate are not just silencers, but indeed the seeds of better professional conditions. By this, I mean the call to involve interns and architects under 30 in setting policies and thinking about necessary reforms. As a young intern with international experience, I propose a few easily implementable small solutions, knowing that we are in a larger shift and facing deeper problems (see further): The international internship should be equated with the Belgian internship within the internship committees. A neutral position should be taken: no discouragement and support for the ambitious architects who choose this path. In practice, this should translate into a few specific control mechanisms that offer similar protection to interns abroad as those in Belgium. One or more video calls at the start/during the internship. This way, the intern comes not only as an individual but as a representative of Belgian architects to learn and should be treated as such. This also provides support for the intern to have difficult conversations. Interns should not be babysat but also not put in a hopeless position due to their status. There should be a publicly accessible blacklist of non-qualitative internship places, both domestically and internationally. This is an absolute necessity. The obligation to complete the first 6 months of the internship at the same place must be adjusted. When you have just graduated, you are most vulnerable. The chance of ending up in a bad internship place is highest then. By imposing this term obligation, you penalize the intern who leaves the internship place earlier by losing the months already worked. Time is money, especially when your income depends on the number of approved internship months. Even if you are at a bad internship place, you still learn something about yourself and the profession of architecture. A possible alternative to avoid job-hopping is the obligation to work for 6 months at the same place at any time during the 2-year internship period. Are these months at the beginning? Fine, are they at the end of the 2 years, also fine! If the intern has not worked for 6 consecutive months at the same office after 2 years, the internship is extended until this is the case. A reform of the conditions for granting the Erasmus+ scholarship. Currently, you must take it fully within the year of graduation. This could be extended to the two years of our mandatory Belgian internship. This would give interns breathing space to first gain practical experience in their familiar Belgian environment and then, when they feel more confident as practicing architects, gain new perspectives abroad. Some of these reforms touch on the legislative framework of both Belgium and Europe. Certainly, the latter is beyond the organization's control. However, we can take a leading role, urge our national legislators to reform, and from that momentum, set the movement for more qualitative internships across Europe in motion. Time for change with the New European Bauhaus. Europe's fight against unpaid internships has just begun. On that note, I would like to briefly add something about the much-discussed topic: internship allowances. Although there is already an obligation to pay allowances—no matter how minimal the rates—interns are often willing to work below the rates or even without payment simply because they want to work at a particular office. Despite the commotion around this topic, there doesn't seem to be an immediate solution that the organization, as a control body and manager of internships, can implement. It's up to all of us to take matters into our own hands. There needs to be a shift in the construction culture. Firstly, through a focus on entrepreneurship. What is good entrepreneurship as an architect? How can I generate enough revenue to pay my interns a living wage? It is not impossible; there are offices that already do it. Professional organizations or universities could offer certain courses on entrepreneurship under the guise of lifelong learning, as well as integrate it into the current academic curriculum. This way, future interns can acquire the economic intelligence to refuse unpaid internships. How can you learn if you are mentally preoccupied with the lack of a living wage and therefore surviving? Secondly, responsibility should also be placed on clients, raising awareness among both private and public clients about the price tag of quality. And that is something the organization can contribute to. Thirdly, the race to the bottom in terms of finances has consequences for the quality of architecture. The last time I checked my construction law course, building was a matter of public order. Reduced quality of buildings is therefore a violation, making it a legal issue. Wake up lawmakers! Time for contemporary interpretations of outdated laws, progressive precedents, and new laws for new situations. To my fellow architects: we should not compete with each other based on price; our battleground should consist of creativity, passion, and craftsmanship. Or is that just my youthful naivety speaking? In conclusion: There is work to be done, both for myself and for our sector. I'm ready, are you? ~ Kimberly Wouters, Architect. More than words: On 24/05/2024, I officially submitted my candidacy to the Provincial Council of Limburg as an intern architect to contribute to developing a policy that provides more support and aligns better with the realities of the professional field.

This short story offers a glimpse into my experience as a Belgian intern abroad, a phase characterized by challenges, growth, and reflection. As a recent graduate, I was determined to broaden my horizons and explore different perspectives on the field of architecture. My previous foreign experience in Weimar, Germany, had already prepared me for the adjustments needed when working in a new cultural and professional environment, but nothing present at the beginning of this internship in my experience and environment could have prepared me for the complexity of my time in Portugal. In the second part, I reflect on what could be improved in the entire internship system because there is indeed a need for improvement. Why did I choose an internship abroad? My conviction is that exploring different perspectives is essential. How we work in Belgium is not necessarily the only or best way. An internship offers the opportunity to learn and experiment in the field. As an architect, I strive for a broad foundation, one that is flexible and varied. I don't want to be stuck in the practices that are common in Belgium, but rather be open to other methods and visions that can enrich my designs and keep my skills as an architect flexible and up-to-date. After two years of experience at a firm in Belgium, it seemed wise to me to explore what it means to be an architect abroad immediately after graduation. The Erasmus grant available within the first year after graduation was also a motivation. How did I choose my destination? Initially, my choice was intuitive and influenced by available opportunities. In hindsight, I realized that I was looking for a place where I could learn a lot. I was looking for a location and culture that was not exactly the same as my Belgian background but still within a Western framework, as I was still in the early stages of my internship and wanted to strengthen my foundation. I chose Portugal. Although it is a country with a more relaxed Southern European mentality, it still offered a certain degree of familiarity that resonated with my background. When choosing my internship placement, I consciously looked for a firm that matched my interests. Given my passion for public projects and heritage, as evidenced by my thesis, it was essential for me to find a firm focused on these areas. Therefore, I chose Rosmaninho+ Azevedo Arquitectos in Porto, Portugal. This firm specializes in heritage, public projects—albeit not on a large scale—and museum projects. With my background in art and scenography, this seemed like the perfect match for my interests and ambitions. Moreover, this experience provided me with an ideal start for my further internship in Belgium, where I hoped to join a firm working on larger public projects. The Experience In reality, the learning process turned out to be more complex and nuanced than expected. A first challenge was the language barrier. Although I was convinced that everything would be conducted in English after the initial job interview, this turned out not to be the case. This led to additional challenges when working with documents in a language I did not master and initially caused some frustration and extra fatigue. With the necessary flexibility and perseverance, however, I gradually learned a basis of 'architecture-Portuguese' to communicate more effectively. Communication is essential in any internship. As a foreign intern, you are largely on your own, with little to no support from professional organizations such as the architects' association. In my experience, there was no contact between the architects' association and my internship placement to guide or monitor my internship. As a foreign intern, this makes you extra vulnerable because you are the only one defending your interests, despite being forced into a lower status where control by a third party is implied but in fact lacking. An example of the consequences during my internship was my experience with site visits. Although I had emphasized their importance since the beginning, their frequency decreased after only 2 months. Eventually, halfway through the internship period, I initiated a conversation, expressed my concerns. This led to a temporary solution, but I remained vulnerable to the situation and increasingly faced my challenges alone, both literally and figuratively. The internship certainly offered valuable learning moments. Although I did not gain all the technical knowledge I had expected, I grew as an architect. The internship helped me develop my own identity as an architect and taught me how to have difficult conversations and better understand what I needed to grow. In terms of entrepreneurship, often an overlooked topic, I have learned about a new model that has given me certain perspectives. I have seen how to deal differently with clients in a small-scale firm, engage in poorly paid competitions with their consequences, and have interns. The latter is in the form of modern exploitation by not remunerating interns and the moral justification that there is an Erasmus+ grant that would make it all right. In reality, we know that this grant barely covers the rent. That this situation is related to the competition culture and a certain type of client seems undisputed. Just as it is the architect's choice to collaborate with this type of client and engage in these competitions for a certain reputation rather than a correct compensation. What makes an internship good? In my opinion, during the best internship, you get the following three things: Financial compensation that allows the intern to exercise their profession in all dignity in accordance with Belgian law. In other words, sufficient fees so that the intern can lead an independent life and is not refused by utility companies to sign a contract because of a 'too low salary' when they want to live alone. Knowledge to eventually be able to perform the profession of architect completely independently. This includes technical, legal, social, and economic knowledge. An internship by definition is for learning, experimenting, and pushing the boundaries of the field within a safe and semi-controlled environment. An intern is not there to make visualizations or models day in and day out. Do you, as an internship supervisor, want to drive the next generation of architects off the stage with a Bore-out? The underdog: recognition for the work done. Nothing suppresses passion and ambition like ignoring the brain behind the design. Nothing stimulates a person like recognition and appreciation for the work done. Mentioning the name to a client, under images on a website, during a meeting with stakeholders, ... Appreciation is important. We are all human, not robots. As a senior architect and owner of a firm, you are proud to see your name/brand everywhere, but claiming work that is not yours fearfully harms more than just your reputation when it comes out. Of course, this is not a one-sided story; as an internship supervisor, you should also get something in return. Internship is not charity. As an intern, you give back by creating qualitative designs, taking initiative, bringing passion and innovation. In conclusion, I can say that I have had a eventful first semester of my internship abroad. I cannot unequivocally say that it was a good internship, but also not that it was a bad internship. It was a rewarding internship in ways other than the paper pushers ticking off the boxes. An internship is an opportunity to learn and grow, both technically, as a person, as an entrepreneur, but the current system falls short in several ways. The architects' association is there to protect the client. By representing the interests of interns and ensuring a safe and supportive environment for professional growth, they create an environment where quality architects emerge. It is clear that reforms are needed to better guide interns and protect them from exploitation in the field. But the association is certainly not the only factor in this chess game. In the second part of this series, I will share my concerns and, from my position as an intern architect, propose some possible solutions to improve the situation of the new generation of architects. ~ Kimberly Wouters, Architect. Info: My foreign internship lasted for 6 months from November 16, 2023, to April 16, 2024. I was employed at the firm Rosmaninho+ Azevedo Arquitectos in Porto, Portugal.

"All good architecture must lie to tell the truth": a philosophy by William J.R. Curtis inspired by the work of Álvaro Siza. From the interpretative challenges of Piscinas das Marés to the paradoxical nature of Siza's drawings, the rupture with carefully chosen historical conventions is legible. This text provides a representation of the dynamic evolution in architectural thinking. It unravels the symbiotic interplay of context, drawings, and tectonics in the broader contemporary architecture, starting from the work of Siza. When we look at Siza's work, each project departs from the context. Subsequently, this context flows into a specific architectural promenade that negotiates places that include and exclude. It is a balanced arrangement of continuity and still moments, framed by panoramas. Space becomes a play of emotions. Siza drew inspiration from the architect Adolf Loos for this approach, particularly Loos' mastery in guiding the eyes and mental space. Loos' Villa Müller in Prague is an excellent example where the context is spatially related to the promenade on different levels. The start of every architectural project is still difficult. There is no quality to be found in imitation so architecture can only transform the existing. It is difficult because it inherently holds the confrontation with your own extistential reality and thus implies the act of interpretation of the/ architect's context and a translation for the beholder of the project. The result is therefore determined by subjective interpretation. For example in the case of Piscinas das Marés in Matosinhos, Portugal by Álvaro Siza the interpretation renders an artificiality to grasp -or frame - the natural ocean which is always beyond reach. The design stools on a horizontal discourse between the horizon and the edge of the pool. It is a balancing act of what is nature and what is artificial by contrast pointing out the causality between these two actors. Proof of this interpretative transformation being a condition without which a project cannot be considered as qualitative can be found in the ensueing of unforseen and enriching sensorial qualities. As for the example of Piscinas das Marés one could consider the harmony between the the waves of the pool and the waves of the ocean, as well as the specific acoustical setting due to the configuration between symmetric geometry and the organic rockformation as prime proof. It is in my belief that these qualities, these enriching sensorial aspects are symptoms and in retrospect- conditions of a qualitative project. Here the second part of the architectural system comes into play: the drawing. The whole of drawings entails the archeology of a project. The first drawings contain the raw ideas and interpretations of the architect. They are an opportunity to test different ideas and concepts. Then the drawings evolve to develop elements not immediately visible yet determining for the creation of space: the building nodes. The detail invades the space and adds a dynamic to the project. However, the drawing is not always a straightforward documentation of architecture. Siza initially interpreted the drawings of Villa Müller as chaotic. It was only after a visit that Siza established the connection between the drawing, the context, and the tectonics. It was the realization of paper architecture that affirmed its own existence. The drawing hereby captures to- at the same time mediate between the interpretation and the tectonics of the architecture. "All good architecture has to lie to tell the truth" ~ William J.R. Curtis Loos championed practicality and the aesthetic allure of natural elements in his designs, eschewing unnecessary embellishments and a pure approach to tectonics. Adherence to the inherent strength and qualities of materials was paramount; wood shouldn't be coerced to bend, nor should concrete be compelled to mimic tension. It has been to my understanding that Siza agreed with these notions during his dialogue with Kenneth Frampton at Serralves, Porto on 20/11/2023. Yet, Siza's built works seemingly present a paradox. While he drafts in harmony with these principles, his drawings are liberated from material constraints. Siza aspires to achieve specific effects, stemming from his subjective interpretation of the context. Often, this pursuit necessitates using materials that diverge from the building's fundamental purpose. Take, for instance, the Center of Contemporary Art in Santiago de Compostela, where concrete appears to 'float' and masquerades as steel merely to spatially signal the promenade. This paradoxal approach to his dogma of creating architecture where the construction is seemingly effortless results in a increased importance for the drawings itself within the play of artful construction. This is in my opinion where Siza differentiates himself from his inspiration of Loos. He exceeds the preset limits by Loos and evolves his practice towards a process with a more primordial role for the archeology of the project to open up hightened levels of sensorial architecture. However it was only after attending a recent lecture by Kenneth Frampton at Casa da Arquitectura on the work of the Architect Paulo Mendes da Rocha I had a deeper understanding of these concepts of Loos and Siza's transference. Da Rocha's work formed a bridge, more specifically his project 'Casa Masetti'. Da Rocha inserts the tectonics of the openings as a determining factor to the actualization of the concepts by having very fine lightweight spring loaded windows to create this outward movement resulting in a playful dialectic between the heavy concrete structure, the lush garden en the light steel. In contrast with Siza, Da Rocha shows the tectonics to generate qualities. He uses the devil in the details to give the architecture a certain panache. Siza also holds the building detail in high regard but for him the key lies in not revealing the nodes to generate 'quiet spaces' whilst maintainting plastic energy. Essentially, the synthesis of context, drawings, and tectonics defines a dynamic triangle of architectural excellence, resulting in a built environment that operates on a deeper sensory level. Álvaro Siza's achievements follow a dialogue inspired by, among others, Adolf Loos, but fundamentally departing from the (interpretation of the) context. It highlights a paradox in which adherence to principles coexists with liberated exploration. Siza's deviation from conventional material constraints emphasizes the crucial role of drawings in the intricate construction process and a shift away from traditional architectural norms. This argument finds its evidence and complexity in the work of contemporaries such as Mendes Da Rocha, where the importance of tectonics takes precedence over the drawing. The interplay among the trio of elements primarily underscores a dynamic evolution in contemporary architectural discourse. To be continued. ~ Kimberly Wouters, Architect. A compilation of thought after attending the following lectures: Thouhts in space: Long-term lessons of Álvaro Siza By William J.R. Curtis on 15th of November 2023 at the Fondation Serralves in Porto, Portugal. Conferência de Kenneth Frampton sobre Mendes da Rocha para 6º aniversário da Casa da Arquitectura- Centro Português de Arquitectura on 18th of November 2023 at Casa da Arquitectura in Matosinhos, Portugal. Cycle of talks Naked Architecture: an evening with Kenneth Frampton and Àlvaro Siza on 20th of November at the Fondation Serralves in Porto, Portugal.