3. Building on the Built
Research Platform
London - UK
‘A spot of light empties shadow details of a blind window’
As a brief introduction, could you talk us through Building on the Built and how it started, please? Where did the idea come from?
Jonthan Tuckey We were working together at the time, so we were in the same room a lot more. A client had a space in King’s Cross and we saw an opportunity to hold an exhibition there, to gather the elements we were discussing in the studio and put them in one place. Whilst discussing the form of the exhibition, it was suggested our work should form the backdrop to it and that there should be a series of talks alongside the show. That is all it was ever intended to be but we were taken aback by how much we enjoyed it. We found the conversations to be incredibly fruitful. The format morphed in quite a haphazard, accidental way into the Building on the Built platform you see today.
Peter Youthed I think the platform has a lot to do with the space Jonathan’s office inhabits, an old public house. When we moved there, we felt like the building could house an alternative program, to involve exhibitions, or an auditorium. We always had a desire to invite people into the office, but we also wanted the office to step out into the world - the public house offered the ideal vehicle for this. It is a beautiful space.
JT Absolutely. There was an awareness around taking over a public house. Although it had been vacant for a considerable amount of time, we were extremely attentive to the fact that we were removing a public amenity. As a practice, we were desperate to get out of our third floor office so the prospect of having a shopfront became particularly exciting. I think the exhibition had been the year before, so the conversations were still fresh in our minds. The public house offered an extension for those conversations to continue. It felt natural.
As if the platform was created through a dialogue between yourselves, as architects, and an existing building, in this case an old public house. That correlation feels incredibly significant and quite poetic.
I find it interesting that so few architectural practices choose to have a public face. It feels somewhat strange when you consider the work we undertake and its impact on the public. The idea of preserving the public function of the pub, creating a dialogue between the old and the new feels critical, to preserve that identity. Was there any literature that was particularly pivotal in the formation of Building on the Built?
PY The author and academic, Fred Scott, was definitely influential. I had heard him speak whilst at university and Jonathan had taught with him. Scott was invited as the keynote speaker at the first talk and his book, On Altering Architecture (Routledge, 2008), as well as his thinking, have always been influential to the series.
The title for the project came from an essay by Victor Lopez-Cotelo, in issue 176 of Arquitectura Viva, called Memory Builds: Building on the Built (Arquitectura Viva, 2015). It is a lovely introductory essay about working with an existing condition. We did ask Victor if we could use the title and he kindly agreed. We have always found great pleasure in mixing things together, which I think is how we both practice; finding elements that fit, seemingly different elements that can produce interesting outcomes. The platform is conducted in that spirit.
JT Very much so. Lopez-Cotelo’s essay ended up titling the exhibition, and then the project. I think we put on Victor and Fred at the same time as part of the original exhibition. Looking back on it, I am so glad that we took the opportunity to speak to people in the latter stages of their careers, to ask them to talk about their work. They were special moments.
How do you use the Building on the Built archive yourselves? You used to work together, so in part, the collection must have been born out of you discussing references for projects. Is it something you refer to often? Does a dialogue form around certain projects that you would like to publish?
JT I think the platform is more digital than both Pete and I would like, but unfortunately, we are busy. Pete is responsible for publishing work, but I feel like when the platform works best, there is a sense of dialogue involved. That can be as simple as understanding Pete’s view on the project. This could even be through the website because we haven’t actually had time to talk ourselves about a specific reference. The platform acts as the dialogue between us. It works effectively as a collective and collaborative endeavour.
PY Now living in Poland, I have little opportunity to ‘drop-in’ to the Studio, but BotB has allowed us to stay in touch, to continue the conversations we were having whilst I worked at JTD. In fact, I now find myself having conversations with a much wider range of practices who are publishing through the platform.
A hidden network of conversation and information assembling around the platform. How are you working with books personally? What is the process like?
JT In the Studio, books surround us, akin to a halo around the perimeter of the room. They have recently been organised chromatically, but are in constant transition between shelf and desk. Shared references are vital to the way we work, both written and visual, which includes drawings, photographs, and so on. We do obviously find references online as well but we find it more intuitive when using books. With the varied nature of the library, a journey of accidental discovery is useful for exploring ideas. It never feels too far away.
PY The physical format of the office is formed on the philosophy of the practice. Models, books, samples, regulatory bibles, they all combine to compose the studio culture. I have fond memories of being introduced to references through Jonathan’s library, finding out ways in which other architects had solved specific problems. At the beginning of a project, we would often take down an array of books and spend time with them, before the production of information and approaching deadlines loomed. It provided a wonderful moment at the beginning of a project where you could investigate what you wanted to achieve. Books formed a critical part of that process.
JT With books littered around the office, the library becomes a shared experience. When you are working towards a common goal, sharing references and information that you’ve discovered together is incredibly rewarding.
As are the conversations encompassing that process; to have to say why you do, or do not, like something. Dialogue helps you articulate the references you are looking at, to try and frame them within your own project.
PY Exactly. It is a similar process with a physical model. A computer screen is singular; the image belongs on that screen, which makes it difficult to dive into. Whereas a book, or a physical model, is a communal object. You have a degree of ownership over it.
There is also the voice of the author present in the book. I was reading your interview with Patrick Lynch this morning, where he presents Dalibor Vesely’s quote, “Oh, you think that you are alone reading a book? I don’t think so.” I truly believe that. The voice of the author exists within those pages. It is the same with a physical model, the author has a presence within any ensuing conversation. In many ways, it is similar to the city, or a building, or material culture. It is analogous, and as a result, very easy to slip from one end to the other.
That collective memory is interesting; the process in which you develop ideas through conversations and references as a shared resource. You have both spoken fondly about working together in the office and the role literature played in that. It shows the power books hold, alongside physical models, drawing, and so on, to influence how urban practitioners work. Pete, you spoke about the early stages of a project and this period of research and reading. It feels prevalent to talk about time here, particularly slowness. Jonathan, I know you have also discussed in previous interviews the positive outcomes of a slower process of building.
JT I think any excuse to slow down is a valid one. Be it, making a model, a long site visit, or a chapter of a book. I don’t think it is true of everyone, but I am definitely a slow processor. I find that experience takes time. Anything that can be done within that period of realisation, is valuable. A book is perfect in that regard. Text is a compelling way to allow your brain time to consider everything in its own totality, rather than formulating an immediate proposal. Similarly, writing is of equal value within this process, particularly when trying to organise thoughts.
PY A lot of the work I undertake for the website is sorting through text, often from someone whose first language is not English, and regularly for a project I am largely unaware of. To edit the text, I have to understand the project from the material provided; to really understand the critical parts of the project. That takes time and feels, in many ways, similar to the design process. A conversation about the creative imagination. If you didn’t believe the creative imagination to be involved and shared, then you would not have books and models around you to discuss with other people. It would be a singular endeavour. For us, it is not the work of ‘a genius’, but instead the creative imagination that fills the room. Books help to bring voices to the table, people like Ruskin, Ledoux and Alberti. People who have long since passed, but are still speaking to us...
This draws a parallel to the work you are undertaking with existing buildings; an inherent relationship between old and new. Ideas, or questions, posed in the past, perhaps by someone that has died, are fascinating to think about when reflecting on the dialogue involved within the creative imagination.
For me, this dialogue between old and new is paramount to the work we undertake in the climate emergency, both in terms of building and dialogue. What role do you see platforms like BotB having as we move forward? The implications of archives such as this...
JT It is interesting to see the topic of existing buildings being foregrounded in mainstream architectural discourse. 22 years ago, when I first set up JTD, you could walk into the RIBA Bookshop and not expect to find anything on the subject. It always celebrated the ‘new’. There were a few texts here or there (New Building in Old Settings by Friedrich Kurrent (Die Neue Sammlung, State Museum for Applied Arts, 1978); Adaptations by Philippe Robert (Princeton Architectural Press, 1989); Domus 1990 Restauro: Un’ Antologia Critica (Domus, 1990)), but very few building projects were documented. If BotB is a good, reliable and curated space for projects referring to existing buildings, where excellence and difference are showcased, then I think that can only be a good thing. To help inspire people to develop and build on. I definitely think if we can inspire people of the value and energy in this type of work, to highlight the enormous creative endeavour involved, then people will always want to engage with it. It is not regulation that will save us, but the desire of urban practitioners to want to do it, to do it better. That is my approach.
PY Working with existing buildings was in the DNA from the beginning; sharing work that we believed to be excellent. Since Jonathan set up JTD, the media landscape has altered drastically. A good example of that is Witherford Watson Mann winning the Stirling Prize in 2013. A critical moment. A lot more universities are now focusing on reuse. I don’t know if we have had a direct role in that but it feels positive to have contributed in some way.
I think this conversation feeds directly into a discussion about how we communicate the climate emergency. Within the profession, I think it is critical that interesting architecture is connected to sustainability, that sits directly within the discourse, pushing it forward. For many years, it felt like there was a specific style of ‘eco-building’, or at least that was the way it was largely perceived. As you have suggested, holistic practice has to be informed by ideas of sustainability, as well as ideas on architecture.
JT Fred Scott’s book, On Altering Architecture, which Pete mentioned earlier, was paramount in that regard. It recognised that there wasn’t an established discourse around this kind of thinking. There may have been some good examples, but there was no established theory of architectural reuse. Scott writes from a number of parallel theories and different approaches. For me, and I think anyone that has read it, the work should be considered in the ways Scott sets out. It should certainly sit alongside other theoretical discourse on what Scott describes as ‘pure architecture’. For practitioners and students wanting to go out into the world with that intention, it was refreshing; to think about existing buildings as a starting point; how they should be approached, measured and considered. Incredibly inspiring.
How was the book received at the time? It obviously had a profound impact on you both, but it feels like that was not widespread across the profession.
JT I think Fred was a quiet revolutionary. It didn’t make enormous waves at the time, but has had a lasting impact. I remember his frustration at not being able to get the Architects’ Journal to write a review about it. In many ways, it feels more relevant now than when it was published 10 years ago, or at least, more needed now. In that sense, I think Scott’s legacy is secure, but I don’t think it gained a lot of traction when it was first published. Pete, do you come across people using it as a tool to teach with?
PY Not here, no. However, it does remind me how consumed we have become by BotB and this idea of adaptive reuse; you end up thinking that is the focal point of the profession. When you look up, you realise that, broadly speaking, it isn’t the landscape you are looking at. In Warsaw, the idea of working on an adaptive reuse project is an exotic speciality, whereas for Jonathan and I, it is an everyday reality, and topic of conversation. Newness and iconic buildings are still prevalent. Take ‘The Line’ project in Saudi Arabia, for example. It can be easy to forget about.
It is interesting to question how the profession is going to adapt. If you are at university now, your professional reality is going to be working with existing buildings. Again, for me, this idea feeds into slowness. The process of recording what is already there; which can take a significant amount of time, but ultimately, can provide a richness that a new building cannot create, or at least, would take some time to form.
JT Existing buildings are incredibly frustrating. They are often the wrong shape, there are always walls, or columns, where you don’t want them. Particularly at the beginning, you can find yourself becoming agitated. Yet, I think it is healthy to have to navigate and wrestle with a building that ultimately, is quite permanent. It requires a degree of skill and compromise. I think that is what is so enticing about them. But if you do have the option to demolish a building and build a new one, it is clearly an easier endeavour.
PY Yes, but parts of the process can also be fast, cutting out part of a floor plate, for example. The building is already built, so certain architectural transformations can happen relatively quickly; your creative imagination working with the found condition. But as Jonathan says, it can be very laborious on site and you can encounter all kinds of problems when stripping-out.
Biba Dow and Alun Jones recently did a talk entitled ‘Working With’. For me, that term seems more relevant than building on the built, because it encompasses landscape, programme, and so on. It makes you question, why would you not work with? Patrick Lynch often talks about civic architecture, but he presents it as rhetorical device, really. What architecture is not civic? Why would you make architecture that is not civic? It is the same rhetoric we hope to instil with BotB. Why would you not want to build on the built? To layer history, culture, stories...We want to place the impetus on those who are choosing not to, to tell us why they think it is necessary to demolish and start again. For us, it is palpably desirable to work with something.
Are there any notable references from the platform? That have had a discernible impact on the way in which you practise?
JT There are a number of books that have either travelled with us along the process, or been discovered during it. This book is by the Dutch writer, Wim Denslagen, Architectural Restoration in Western Europe: Controversy and Continuity (Architectura & Natura Press, 1994), which we came to know of through someone attending one of our lectures.
On the BotB platform, we often see a separation of old and new, in line with Ruskin’s theory on working with existing buildings. Denslagen opposes this, showing similarities to the writing of Violet-le-Duc, where there is a reinvention of history in the new addition. He discusses work which reimagines what the building could be, but in a manner where it is somewhat difficult to decipher the differences between old and new. Although text heavy, this is presented before and after photographs. It is often hard to distinguish the area of adaptation! For us, this text is interesting, as it allows us to step outside of a lot of the work we see on BotB, or as a counterpoint to local councils, who often push for a Ruskinian theory of separating old and new.
Another point of discussion often forms around weathering; the effect of age on buildings. So, rather than human led interventions, the act of time and palimpsest on an existing structure. This leads me onto Mohsen Mostafavi and David Leatherbarrow’s book, On Weathering: The Life of Buildings in Time (The MIT Press, 1993).
It is fascinating to think about a book publishing ideas around the narrative of restoration work, almost in a fictional sense. Telling alternative stories around the reimagining of an existing building, to create a new relationship is an incredibly compelling idea. It is quite fantastical.
JT Pete and I have talked about this before, but it does not feel like a coincidence that we both arrived in architecture after other vocational training; Pete via philosophy and film, with me coming from anthropology. When you make that analogy about buildings as story, as narrative, for me, that feels like the circle completed. I find it quite difficult to not see buildings like that. When I am first introduced to a project, I spend a lot of time looking for the building’s story; a story that will help me anchor myself in the project. I am careful with this process. A progression, alteration or adaptation of a building is a natural, chronological narrative to work with, rather than say, a building that has not been changed since 1929.
PY It is interesting that you mention the fantastical. I was thinking this morning about books and in particular, Lord of the Rings (George Allen & Unwin, 1961) by J.R.R. Tolkien and Dune (Chilton Book Company, 1965) by Frank Herbert, as well as authors such as C.S. Lewis and Ursula K. Le Guin. My child is now 6 and we are beginning to both share a retreat into these types of fantastical worlds. For me, there is something utopian about that, as well as projective. In a similar way to making buildings, whereby you have to envisage a better situation, using what you have and know. We have not spoken much about fiction, but I think it always formed a backdrop to discussions in the office. You do not have to step too far to the side to see architecture as one element of a deeper culture.
Architecture is inherently emotional, yet it is not a topic often dealt with in architectural literature; how buildings make you feel. The process of creating buildings, but also existing in them. Hopefully, this is an element of the culture that will expand as we continue to work on existing buildings with stories and dialogue becoming more prevalent. Fiction is a fascinating tool for promoting empathy and humility. There is definitely a disconnect at the moment between architects and end users.
PY I think there is something changing in the projective utopian aspects of architecture. You can look at culture more generally and also see this. We are having to entertain the idea that there is an end in sight, in a way that we have not had to before. Architecture, and particularly adaptive reuse, is about communing with people. It is about connecting people with previous generations. Humanity is becoming wrapped up in that, not just in a carbon sense, but also in the mass of cultural identity. Of being and being with others who came before.
There is a collective agency to think about who and what has come before you. Why have certain buildings been retained, but not others? Buildings that have been both loved and unloved...
PY It is noteworthy that you mention both loved and unloved buildings. Jonathan was alluding to the idea of the awkward existing building earlier, which is interesting when one thinks about culture being in jeopardy. How, if so, any piece of culture becomes important. I was recently talking with a student about a fantastic piece of writing by Irénée Scalbert called The Architect as Bricoleur (Actar, 2011), published in Candide no. 4. In this, Scalbert discusses Robinson Crusoe, a comparison to the role of an architect today, being stranded on an island with limited resources. With his ship having been wrecked, anything he finds is inherently part of his culture. Those scraps become incredibly valuable when you are in that situation. I think this idea of culture might begin a process of us looking at buildings in a different way. Rather than it being an issue that we work with an existing concrete frame that has a number of awkward geometries, we begin to look upon it as wreckage; as all we have. In many ways, I think that is what architecture was about before the 19th century. ‘Working with’ was not unusual. If you look at Split, or Rome, they are examples of architects working with existing buildings. They weren’t suffering as a result, but reconfiguring and adding additional layers. They were creating architecture. I think students at the moment have that future. They are not going to be modernist heroes, doing what Scott termed ‘pure architecture’, but rather they will be creating collaborative, mongrel architecture. We have to get over the negative connotations of that.
All photography by Tim Lucas unless otherwise stated.