A hub for architects

LB: I see two main reasons behind the growing number of architects in Switzerland. The last major crisis in architecture jobs was in the 1990s. Since then, there has been a steady flow of work, with high levels of competition. During the 2008 financial crisis, many of us expected job opportunities and new building developments to decline significantly, but that didn’t happen. Another reason is that Switzerland is particularly attractive to architects due to its system of open calls. These allow all graduates to participate in competitions, potentially win, and start their own practice by overseeing a construction project. This openness is actually one of the key reasons we chose to work here ourselves.

CJ: In other countries, you need to start a firm, gain references, build a body of proof. But in Switzerland, open competitions allow you to just get started with your ideas.

LB: I also feel that there is greater public recognition for architects and architecture in Switzerland compared to other countries. I believe that public competitions encourage interaction between architects and the broader public, helping non-architects understand the value that architecture brings to society—how it shapes our youth, influences our lives, contributes to our well-being, culture, and our relationship with the environment. This exchange fosters a shared understanding, and people come to appreciate the importance of architecture. Competitions in Switzerland also seem to function more effectively than in other countries, largely because juries mainly consist of professionals. 

The range of competitions in Switzerland is so broad that many architecture firms become involved in their organisation. In doing so, they act as mediators between the client and the architects, selecting architects based on the client’s needs and fostering meaningful conversations between both parties. Switzerland is a country where people from diverse cultural backgrounds have a strong understanding of negotiation. Rather than dismissing others' perspectives, there is a tendency to meet in the middle and find common ground. And also politically, anyone can offer up an idea about a political decision and obtain a certain number of signatures and have this voted into law. It's a very democratic system.

Building the practice

LB: We studied together in Lyon before going on an exchange to Lausanne, where the university was more focused on contemporary architecture and innovation. The variety of courses and workshops available made it much more engaging for us than staying in Lyon. So, we decided to remain in Lausanne. As students, we collaborated on many projects across different courses, and even then, we had a strong sense that we would eventually work together professionally.

CJ: After graduating, we started working at the same office in Geneva. I stayed for four years, but eventually, I felt a strong urge to design architecture on my own. I’m not sure why, but I was really drawn to the idea of getting involved in local architecture. We were motivated by the desire to stay here and immerse ourselves in Swiss culture to build our future, despite having no personal connections here.

LB: To pursue a master's in architecture at Lausanne, you need to complete a year of practical experience in a studio first. After our Erasmus exchange, we couldn’t directly enter the master's programme; we had to complete that year of practice before applying. Since we weren’t sure if we would be accepted at EPFL, we decided to return to Lyon to gain that experience. We thought it was the best option, even if it meant completing our diploma there. During this time, Christophe was doing his practical training in Clément Vergély’s office.

CJ: I met Clément during that time, and we established a strong bond. We kept in touch and when I decided to start my practice in Lausanne, he offered to help me. I partnered with him and gained more resources. The next year, I won our first open competition alongside our first employee. Lorraine joined us quickly afterwards.

LB: The only viable path forward for us was through competitions, so that’s what we focused on. Additionally, we followed a common route for young architects here by becoming assistants at EPFL. In this structure, there are teachers, students, and intermediary assistants who help with logistics and facilitate communication between students and faculty. This setup is very interesting, as it offers architects a great opportunity: while starting our own practice, we could secure job stability for 40% of the time by assisting a teacher at EPFL.

Bringing together materiality and sensitivity

LB: In Switzerland, there is a strong connection between theory and practice. This relationship is particularly evident when assisting a teacher, as it highlights the parallel between academic work and real-world application. For us, this experience was invaluable; we worked on competitions while analysing the approaches of others, which proved to be incredibly enriching. It was a nurturing role that significantly fed into our own practice. We were fortunate to work under Professor Bruno Marchand, who also entrusted us with some urban study projects, which was a tremendous help since we hadn’t yet won many competitions. At that time, we were very focused on typology—specifically, how to create structures that address specific needs. We explored the infinite variations of housing designs. However, our focus has shifted somewhat recently; we have begun to delve deeper into materiality. Initially, we didn’t consider this aspect much. Our approach was more aligned with the practices we learned in architecture school: starting with a programme, organising it in a spatial structure, and then asking ourselves how to construct it, which materials to use. 

CJ: We aim to explore new ideas through competitions by focusing on natural materials and local know-how. Given contemporary issues surrounding sustainability, we find this approach particularly relevant. Innovative materials like earth and other natural fibres require more experimentation than standardised products. This allows us to reconnect with the physicality of materials and reconsider the ways of creating atmospheres. For us, architecture is about exploring how materials can shape and structure spaces. 

LB: We had the opportunity to delve deeper into our interest in new materials through a competition organised by the city of Lausanne for a Maison de Quartier (community centre). They aimed to create an exemplary building that incorporated experimental and innovative materials, such as bio-sourced or geo-sourced materials. As we were in a park, it felt natural to work with wood, earth, and natural fibres. For the first time, we considered materials from the very beginning, and their possibilities contributed to shaping the building. The structure is composed of rammed earth, wood, and chaux-chanvre, an insulating mixture combining lime and hemp fibre. 

The first conclusion we reached was that working with this material requires significantly more time. Even when comparing wood to concrete, the process is more time-consuming due to the need for joint and detail work, which essentially doesn’t exist with concrete. You must figure out how to assemble and connect components, as there are constraints associated with the material's directional properties. Unlike concrete, which is powerful due to its efficiency—both in construction and conceptualisation—working with materials like rammed earth necessitates careful consideration of every detail.

CJ: This approach brings a new level of sensitivity. In this project, earth exists inside the building, regulating the climate and atmosphere. This is a departure for us, as concrete is an inert material that doesn’t respond to temperature changes. In contrast, earth is dynamic, influenced by factors such as humidity and temperature. This shift transforms the architectural expression and the physical properties of the building. These aspects are crucial for the future of architecture; it’s not just about durability but also about comfort. Visitors naturally want to touch the surfaces, fostering a new connection with nature.

LB: Comfort stems from the kindness of the material. This kindness comes from a substance that people recognise from their surroundings, transformed into a structure. This is why we are often captivated by vernacular architecture when we travel and encounter specific types of construction in new places. We appreciate the harmony and nuance; these walls possess familiar qualities and take on beautiful colours. They feel warm and improve acoustics due to their textured surfaces, which absorb sound. Today, we tend to believe that comfort is making the least amount of effort technology will allow us to make, and we forget the physical and symbolic qualities of materials. Irregular materials can evoke a sense of resilience—small imperfections are not a concern, unlike stains on a pristine white wall. 

However, I don’t believe earth will replace concrete; it lacks the efficiency required for certain applications. Moreover, relying on a single material isn’t ideal. Our goal is to diversify our material sources, selecting the strongest and most efficient materials for each situation. In this project, we’ve combined various materials, with concrete still being necessary for the basement, as it remains the most viable technique for that context. The challenge with concrete is its ubiquitous use across all types of buildings. We are gradually learning to identify where it is strictly necessary and where it can be replaced by other materials.

An open learning process

LB: It's increasingly rare to find a firm run by a single person; most are collaborative ventures. This shift reflects the growing complexity of the field and a desire to pool expertise. We particularly enjoy working with a landscape architect or a building physicist and love engaging with craftsmen to explore materials. Visiting workshops to understand the construction process adds immense value to our work. Building with earth is a traditional and empirical practice. It isn’t based on objective sciences, and only a few possess the knowledge required to calculate its properties effectively. Unlike digital engineering models, working with rammed earth requires hands-on experience. Experienced practitioners can advise, saying, ‘Based on my experience, we should approach it this way.’ In contrast to today's scientific methods, using earth from the site involves continual adaptation. If the material doesn’t hold up, adjustments must be made. This process is guided by observation and an understanding of what isn’t functioning correctly. Unfortunately, many have lost touch with this intuitive approach to building.

CJ: Winning a competition is fascinating, but the real journey begins afterwards, as you adapt your project based on insights gained from working with experts who have learned to use the material through direct experimentation on-site. We are particularly interested in the adaptation process. A decade ago, it was common to win and construct exactly what was initially proposed. However, we now find that this adaptive approach ultimately leads to better outcomes.