Constructing change

DE: Our office has been around for about eight years since we founded it. Over this time, we've witnessed continuous growth. This growth is largely driven by the abundant opportunities in Mexico compared to other countries. Here, you can start building right after finishing school or even while still studying. We began working on projects during our schooling, participating in competitions and working on small-scale projects. This early exposure isn't common in other places where you typically need to gain experience and certifications over several years before starting. In Mexico, young architects have a wealth of opportunities to dive into practical work rather than just theoretical learning. 

IC: There is a mix of factors that are contributing to this rapid growth. Geographical location is a significant one, it embodies the region's will, energy, and enthusiasm. Moreover, a robust economic and political tie with North America, particularly the US and Canada, has resulted in financial investments, especially noticeable in the tourism sector over the past five years. Looking further back, Mexico has a rich history of modernism, which is evident in the construction of large-scale social housing projects. Here, such projects rapidly materialised, reflecting a unique embrace of informality, which isn't necessarily negative but rather a sense of comfort. This blend of political, economic, and material influences presents challenges and abundant opportunities, particularly in the realms of design and architecture.

DE: This is a constant topic of discussion in our office. Essentially, we're a firm sought out by clients to construct houses, small developments, and apartments. However, we're always mindful of our actions. In Mexico there's a continuous cycle of construction. Yet, we must approach projects with caution, considering their implications. Often, clients come to us with grandiose ideas that may not align with the area's needs or context. As young architects, it's crucial to question whether these requests are truly necessary. Many of our clients are not local; they come from the US, Canada, or Europe. We take the time to understand and translate their desires, ensuring we respect Mexico's environment, ethics, and other factors. This responsibility is integral to our practice.

Dreaming of autonomy

IC: Our journey began much like many other practices do. We were a close-knit group of friends in university, collaborating on school projects and fueled by energy and curiosity. Diego's prior experience in a firm sparked our interest, prompting each of us to explore different opportunities in various firms around the area. Eventually, we found ourselves imagining what it would be like if our after-hours collaboration became our main endeavour. The motivation behind this shift reflects a generational desire for autonomy and work-life balance. Personally, I sought a more flexible framework, considering the prevalent unpaid internships in Mexico and the lack of work-life balance in many offices. We have always reflected a lot on that. “What would it be like if we started our own practice? What would our working hours look like?”. We wondered what it would be like. “Could we travel back and forth between countries? What conditions would collaborators have?” This curiosity drove us. Eventually, opportunities emerged, like a client in San Miguel de Allende who requested numerous project quotes, sparking our excitement. Though initially overwhelming, this experience reaffirmed our belief that our designs were valued. 

DE: At some point, we, as Ilse mentioned, were already immersed in various emerging firms, pouring our energy into projects day in and day out. Yet, we reached a juncture where we grew weary of dedicating our efforts solely to someone else's vision. The youthful drive to excel in every task we undertook persisted, but we recognised the need to channel that energy into our own endeavours. Fueled by this collective sentiment, we made the decision to embark on our own journey.

A curatorial launchpad

IC: Our debut paid project was an installation for a museum at Archivo, collaborating with Mario Ballesteros, who is now a remarkable curator with a myriad of intriguing projects underway. It was one of our initial significant opportunities, as Mario generously offered us a chance during a meeting in his office. He outlined his three-year exhibition program, setting the stage for our involvement.

DE: The space where the exhibitions on architecture and design took place had previously hosted an open call titled "Work in Progress", where individuals were invited to showcase what they had on their desks. At the time, we didn't have much to show, just a few previous projects that didn't quite fit the bill. So, we decided to create models and mock-ups specifically for the exhibition, though we didn't disclose this fact initially. To our surprise, our submission was selected from a pool that included many well-known names in the industry. It was unexpected to see ourselves among admired figures in the field. From that exhibition, the opportunity for the next one arose, forming part of a three-year program. 

IC: I cherish that moment because it was the first time someone took our work seriously enough to compensate us for it. This validation energised us to continue pursuing paid opportunities. Although we still do occasionally undertake favours.

Rooftop revelations

DE: There was one project we developed in Sayulita that marked another pivotal chapter for our office. Following that experience, we found ourselves drawn to rooftop renovations and the transformation of under-used spaces into various structures like small apartments or pergolas. These projects provided opportunities for experimentation with materials, as clients were more open to unconventional ideas. It allowed us to push boundaries and explore new possibilities, shaping our approach to design and creativity. In Mexico City, we found ourselves with requests for rooftop interventions. While it was exciting, we also yearned for the opportunity to work on larger projects like houses or apartment renovations. Word of mouth spread, and soon, we became known as the go-to team for rooftop designs among our friends and acquaintances. Then, one of our partners visited Sayulita, sparking our venture into designing vacation homes. This new chapter saw us applying our expertise to a different setting, crafting unique getaways. As we reflect on our journey, we've decided to make Mexico City our base. It's where we call home and, in many ways, a perfect place to deepen our practice and explore our identity. However, we remain committed to the freedom of moving back and forth as opportunities arise.

IC: Mexico, and probably elsewhere too, people start noticing when you're involved in various ventures. So, for an architect, it can feel somewhat glamorous, like pursuing different dreams. But it's not as straightforward as it sounds, right? Especially in Mexico, breaking into public projects is tough. It's not just about competing; it's about connections, resources, and funding yourself. 

When you chat with someone focused on restaurants or perhaps schools, they often express a desire to work in vacation homes instead. It's like a constant exchange of ideas and projects. We're big on collaborations, too. We're always open to inviting others to join us in our endeavours. It's all about sharing experiences and knowledge, you know? I think that's precisely why we engage in many ephemeral projects or installations and things of that nature. You might call it a "palate cleanser" of sorts. While these projects may not always be the most profitable or stable economically, they serve a vital purpose. They stimulate different ways of thinking, encourage reflection, and inject a sense of enjoyment into our team. Our collaborators must have varied tasks to work on so they don't feel like they're just part of a production line. These projects allow us to shift gears, ponder different concepts, and discuss matters beyond the usual scope.

Building a sense of trust

IC: We've been reorganising our office dynamics lately. It's pretty straightforward, really. There are three of us as partners, and each of us has a stronger connection with certain clients or commissions. Sometimes, it's just a matter of timing or personal connections that lead to one of us being the main point of contact for a particular project. So, in a sense, we have our own clients with whom we primarily communicate. Being the main point of contact doesn't automatically mean you're the head of that project. It just means you handle the communication aspect. But here's the thing: we've established a rule that the partner with the client relationship gets the final say on design decisions. We've found it strikes a good balance between pursuing our own creative interests and maintaining strong client relationships. We've realised that there's much to be gained from listening to and being flexible with our client's needs. It's not just about pushing our own agendas. By being more attuned to what they want, we've found it can lead to more fruitful collaborations and less friction. So, while the partner with the client relationship has the ultimate decision-making power on design, it's always a collaborative effort among us partners. We hash things out together to find the best possible solution.

DE: It's also important to note that our office has just entered its eighth year. What's significant about that is that we've been spread out across different cities for nearly half of that time. Our journey started with all of us together, but then life took us in different directions. Some came, some went, and then others joined. Over the past three years, for instance, Ilse and I have been based in Madrid and Copenhagen, while Regina has been in Oaxaca, and Juan Luis was in Vancouver. At one point, our office comprised four partners plus six team members living in various places like Madrid, Berlin, Mexico City, and Zacatecas. As you can imagine, we rarely had that idealised moment of everyone gathered around a drawing table. 

IC: It's like each of us has our own moment to delve into our respective tasks and ideas, and then we come together to synthesise and discuss. Over time, this dynamic has really fostered a strong sense of trust among us, not just between the partners but also with our team members. There's a mutual understanding of where we're headed, allowing us to integrate our contributions seamlessly. It's almost like these units that converge and then diverge again, but always in sync with the overall vision and direction of Palma.

Revisiting local craftsmanship

DE: Over the past eight years, our approach to work has evolved through various phases. There have been times when we were fixated on Portuguese and Japanese architecture, admiring the cleanliness and precision or delving into the intricate details of German design. Then, inevitably, we'd return to Mexico, realising that some of those details might not be as relevant here. I'm not referring to renowned architects per se, although we admire certain figures in the field.

I think that with each passing day, especially after living outside of Mexico for some time and returning, we notice more craftsmanship around us. It's in the details of things you find at local markets or traditional stores, not the modern, gentrified ones. You start to truly appreciate its effortlessness, like when you visit an old bakery with its simple yet beautiful displays. We're learning to embrace this laid-back approach more, finding inspiration in the ephemeral aspects of our projects and exhibitions. We're integrating this ethos into our permanent residential projects, experimenting with materials, techniques, and design principles.

 IC: It's really intriguing to explore how this evolution is unfolding. Just recently, we had a discussion that ties into what you're mentioning about creating houses where things come to life. We were brainstorming ideas like incorporating a movable tent or implementing actions that activate spaces, maybe even something as bold as a large chimney. These action-based gestures are fascinating to consider. What's truly remarkable in Mexico is the willingness of artisans to collaborate on such projects. You can approach a blacksmith with a simple idea, and they're open to exploring it with you, offering suggestions and solutions. It's a level of flexibility and creativity that you don't often find elsewhere. In places like Madrid, for example, the process is much more rigid, you provide a drawing, get a quote, and that's it. It's a whole different ballgame. Curiosity is key in these contexts. The process of learning, reflecting on concepts or theories, and then applying them in practice is a fascinating cycle. It's interesting to see how ideas, like those in modernism, are not just academic but are actively being implemented. We often find that by the time we're reading about these concepts, they're already in motion, others have experimented with and constructed them. This realisation keeps us on our toes, aware that the field is continuously evolving and that we are, in a sense, always catching up with ongoing developments. In part, it is what makes the practice of architecture so intriguing.

Designing an architectural dynamism

DE: We've been involved in numerous projects in Sayulita, many of which are houses left empty for much of the year. Despite the challenges, we approach each with optimism and perhaps a hint of naivety, asking ourselves, "How can we change this?" One example is NICO, a large rental house with six rooms. We collaborated with Hybrid Architecture from Seattle to design a flexible concrete grid structure. While it's currently a residential space, we envision it adapting to future needs, perhaps transforming into a restaurant or club as the town evolves. I know "flexible" is an overused term in architecture, but it truly encapsulates the essence of what we aim to achieve. When I say "flexible", I cringe a bit; I hate to resort to clichés in architecture. But in our approach, we strive for a kind of adaptability. We use concrete, which is sturdy but not overly permanent, not set in stone, so to speak. We can't predict what will happen in 20 years. 20 years ago, no one imagined what this place would become. Take, for instance, our project Chiripa, where the owner wanted a house. We proposed adding two small towers, each with a footprint of about 50 square meters. After some persuasion, we settled on the idea of individual suites within the towers, each with its own bathroom and two common areas. The beauty of this setup is its versatility. The owner can use the entire space for her family when they visit from the States, with both towers occupied, or she can stay in one and rent out the other as a whole or to different individuals. This approach adds a dynamic element to the typical vacation home scenario, where it sits empty for most of the year. We're now exploring ways to extend this concept further, aiming to benefit the local community by providing rental spaces for Mexicans or residents who struggle to find housing. While we're still in the process and haven't reached our goal yet, we hope to showcase projects in the near future that demonstrate our commitment to this cause. It's about creating more accessible housing options through affordable apartments or other means.

IC: It's more of an idealistic notion, but many of our clients face a similar situation with their seasonal homes. They use them for a few months and then leave them empty for the rest of the year. Coincidentally, during the off-season, there's a need for housing for local workers, such as builders. So we proposed a concept: “What if, alongside their main house, they also built two simple units downstairs that could be rented out at an affordable price?” It's a practical solution that could help sustain the town's economy and prevent it from declining when the seasonal residents are away. We're working to convince them of the benefits of such an approach, not just for the community but also for their own investment. We've had discussions about adjusting our fees for clients who are willing to participate in community-building initiatives. It's our way of adapting and contributing to the town where we're building luxury homes. "Adapt" is definitely the word I prefer.

Over time, we've come to prioritise designs that are feasible within the given context. It's a common experience for architects to pitch numerous projects, only for a fraction to move forward due to budget constraints. We've learned the value of realism and practicality, actively seeking projects where we can make a tangible impact within the available budget. It's about setting realistic expectations from the start and ensuring our designs align with them, even if it means compromising some of our more extravagant ideas. We are leaning more towards subtlety and simplicity in our projects. It's about making things actually happen, avoiding the frustration of lengthy processes that end up going nowhere. Understanding the context and geography plays a crucial role. We know the local builders, materials, and their limitations, like the impact of the rainy season in Sayulita on foundation work. While being upfront about these realities might intimidate some clients, we're committed to transparency. We want to ensure that projects move forward smoothly and successfully. Even if it means simplifying the design, the satisfaction of seeing a project come to fruition is what drives us.