Baukultur: bridging context and practice

PV: Baukultur is a concept developed at the Davos Declaration in 2018 which seeks a holistic approach to the planning and realisation of the built environment. Our work investigates its significance through a broader context (built, social and cultural) not just as a theoretical endeavour but as something deeply practical. It’s about what gets built, and this is strongly felt in larger cities like Zurich, Lausanne and Basel, but also in smaller Alpine villages.

Here in Ticino, we find ourselves somewhat in the middle. Our region is becoming more urban, with places like Lugano growing into small cities, but at the same time, much of the area remains a collection of villages connected by sprawl. Our urban identity is relatively young compared to Zurich, which has a longer history as a city, and this difference is tangible.

CB: Many emerging practices lean more toward experimentation. It’s not universal, but there’s a tendency to explore new approaches and dive deeper into specific themes. For example, in our case, we’ve been focusing on reuse—not only refurbishing buildings- to maintain as much as possible but also giving a second life to elements we cannot use by making them available for others. This trend is growing across Switzerland, and we want to increase this more in Ticino.

PV: Energy efficiency is another significant focus for Swiss architects. There’s a growing emphasis on reducing energy consumption and operating costs. This initially started with mandates for better building insulation, which was a critical first step toward ecological awareness. Then there’s energy production: from fossil fuels to renewable energy. Now, the focus has expanded to tackle material waste, particularly from demolitions, and to explore ways to minimise waste overall. The use of natural materials is becoming more common, though it's still not mandated by law. Architects are increasingly choosing sustainable options, like wood instead of PVC, even if it costs a bit more upfront. These choices reflect a longer-term perspective—thinking about the lifecycle of materials and their ease of recycling 30 years down the line. There’s also an emphasis on sourcing materials locally, such as using stone from within a 200-300 kilometre radius instead of importing it from distant locations. 

CB: We’re seeing clients increasingly asking architects for sustainable solutions. They’re seeking proposals that address environmental concerns. This shift shows that sustainability is no longer just a visionary goal from architects but a demand from society.

PV: Sustainability is also gaining complexity. It’s not just about materials or waste but extends to social dimensions. For example, in Zurich, only 0.1% of apartments are vacant—essentially none—and the prices are constantly increasing. This makes it incredibly difficult for people with average incomes to live in the city. I think it’s essential to keep the middle class in the city; this is part of social sustainability. Additionally, we need to focus on density—building more efficiently to reduce the energy and infrastructure demands of sprawling developments in remote areas. Rationalising our use of resources is essential as we move forward.

At the same time, when we talk about green architecture, I feel a bit hesitant because, honestly, what does that mean? The act of building isn’t inherently ‘green’. Whether it’s restoration, renovation, or new construction, it always impacts the environment. It’s unrealistic to claim zero environmental impact—it's a chimaera. Sure, you can calculate impact reduction or aim for net zero over 20 or 30 years, but the act of building itself has consequences. 

Balancing theory and practice

PV: Camilla and I met at ETH Zurich while studying. Initially, I intended to stay there. I had just graduated and was looking for work when Camilla's father, who also had an architecture office, offered me a temporary opportunity in Lugano. It turned out to be a great experience. The collaboration was productive, and we worked on many diverse projects.

Meanwhile, Camilla remained in Zurich and found a position in a renowned office. Later, I went to Chile to work with Pezo von Ellrichshausen, and during that time Camilla decided to return to Ticino. After I came back from Chile, she, her father and I collaborated for a few years. 

In 2020 Camilla and I decided to start our own office and try to develop our own methodology. We debated whether to establish it in Zurich or Lugano, but we already had a few projects here so we decided to stay.

CB: Our practice focuses primarily on private clients. We work closely with them from the initial idea to project completion. Each project is tailored to the client’s needs, how they live and what they envision. We synthesise their wishes with our architectural knowledge to create meaningful designs. It’s about striking a balance—surprising them with our ideas while being inspired by their input. For example, we renovated a ‘rustico’ (a traditional stone building) for a couple. They had an incredible amount of books—about 15,000—that had to find place in the project. One of the two, a musician, also wanted a space for his Steinway piano. We designed a room as a library and music chamber that suited his needs, paying attention to acoustics and ambience. After moving in, he told us it was the first time in 30 years he could play his piano without additional insulation, thanks to the room's design. It was a wonderful compliment. 

PV: The theoretical side of architecture is our primary focus. We often ask ourselves: What is architecture? What do we want to achieve when we build something? This answer changes with every project because the goals and context are never the same. But at the same time, to reach these theoretical goals, we work every day on building sites. There’s this constant duality—on one side, addressing real-world issues like construction details, contracts, and logistics, and on the other, keeping the bigger picture in mind. It’s crucial not to lose sight of that balance during the process. Both parts need to work together.

Vernacular values

CB: Something else very important for us is respecting the context. We don’t feel the urge to show off or create projects that are shocking. Instead, we always aim to strike a balance: a strong idea and a good project that integrates meaningfully into its environment.

For example, in Castalla, the Rustico project in Sala Capriasca, the site was in a rural area with existing stone buildings. These buildings had been renovated in the 1990s by the client’s father, but the renovation altered the volumes so that they lost their history and meaning. Our first step was to remove the newer additions and restore the original figure. The ‘genius loci’ here was vital. These four buildings had a rural history, but now they’re a home. We wanted to create a dialogue between these two moments for the buildings, so that anyone could read and understand the life of these structures.

PV: Another key aspect was reuse. The materials from the removed additions were repurposed for the new walls, ensuring minimal waste. We also focused on sustainability, like installing a rainwater collection tank to irrigate the garden. Otherwise, that water would have been wasted—or, conversely, watering the garden could have been seen as wasteful. By incorporating the tank, the system became more circular.

CB: At the same time, we wanted to retain the rural character of the buildings. We rebuilt the roofs using traditional ‘coppi’ tiles, adhering to historical techniques. These days, roofs are often made with prefabricated panels shaped like waves, where tiles are just decorative. But we insisted on the authentic method, even though it was challenging to find craftsmen willing and able to do it.

This was an example of vernacular architecture where the materials, like stone and coppi tiles, had intrinsic value. We reused as much as possible, even sorting through broken tiles to salvage what we could. In another renovation—a 1960s house, Casa al bosco—we faced a different challenge. The house had undergone some updates in the early 2000s, like new windows, doors, a stove, and a kitchen, but its layout and façade weren’t functional and everything was built badly. There were major issues like water infiltration and humidity. We had to fix these technical problems while redesigning the architecture, which meant many elements couldn’t be reused. For example, the windows were too small and poorly positioned, so we couldn’t integrate them into the new design. Instead of discarding them, we sold these elements—windows, doors, the kitchen, the stove—to people who could use them. At the time, there wasn’t a specialised platform for second-hand building materials, so we handled it ourselves. It was time-consuming, but for us, it was important to ensure these items were reused elsewhere instead of being wasted.

PV: Now, such platforms are becoming more common, even in our region. Ticino is a bit isolated from the rest of Switzerland. This makes it harder to use these platforms effectively. If you're in the same city, transporting ten windows is manageable. But if you need to cross the Alps with them, it’s much more complicated. You’d need to organise proper transport, which adds logistical challenges.

Lessons from client collaboration

PV: The outcome of each project surprises us. Often the client brings ideas that challenge us to find the right solution. We have a set of values that guide us, but the specifics of a project—the program, the site—can unexpectedly strengthen the entire concept.

CB: It’s not so much about a single moment; it’s more about the approach. For us, it is important to work for and with the client during the entire process. I remember one of our first projects—a couple with a small plot outside Lugano. They had a clear idea of what they wanted: an L-shaped house. But the plot was too small for their idea to work. We tested their concept, saw its limitations, and then developed something entirely different—a house designed like a telescope, focused on one direction, light and landscape. The design started with smaller spaces that gradually opened up, creating an enfilade effect leading to the porch and living room. The first time the client saw the design, he turned red and didn’t talk anymore. We thought, That’s it. It’s over, they will go somewhere else.

PV: He wasn’t even looking at us any more, just staring at the project on the table.

CB: But we kept explaining the idea, and eventually, after a long silence, he said, ‘I think I like it, but I need to think about it.’ They left in shock. Later, though, they came to love it. The house was built, and now they’re really happy with it.

PV: In the end, our idea became their idea. That’s our job as architects: to turn the client’s desires into something that works in all aspects and enriches its context, something they didn’t initially imagine but that aligns with their vision in the end.