The five pillars of Réseaux

LC: Réseaux Paysage et Urbanisme is a firm based in Montreuil, consisting of a small team of eight, including architects, urbanists, landscape architects, and designers. "Réseaux" means "networks," reflecting my experience across architecture, urbanism, and landscape offices since finishing school. The firm is structured around five main themes that define our approach and positioning.

The first is the "Réseaux" of natures, which implies understanding and analysing all visible and invisible forms of nature, both human and non-human. Every site we work on is a living entity. The second is a network of scales, which means addressing the relationship between different scales, from a garden to an entire valley or seashore, and ensuring they communicate with one another. When you live in a garden, you also live within a larger territory. The third is the network of towns and infrastructures, which is central to our work. In places like Nice and Marne-la-Vallée, we focus on rethinking infrastructure, making it adaptable rather than rigid and non-negotiable. Then, there’s the network of materiality. For us, this means exploring how to connect the ground to the sky by working with soils, construction methods, and vegetation layers—not just trees, but the entire ecosystem of nature and sociability. And finally, there’s the network of stakeholders. This pillar implies engaging with politicians, technical services, clients, and the public, primarily through public commissions, to ensure decisions are based on objective criteria rather than personal judgment.

Between mediation and actions

LC: Our office is a perfect example of an open-minded way of thinking. We work with architects, urbanists, designers, and other landscape architects. For most of the urban-scale projects we lead, we also collaborate with experts in mobility, geology, and ecology—fields we can't analyse as precisely on our own. Sometimes we work with programmatic visionaries. Ultimately, I often feel that our role is to synthesise all this intelligence, weave it into a coherent narrative, and define a common direction.

One of the most complex layers in large-scale projects is the social one. Take, for instance, one of our recent projects, the Var Plain, which will be developed between 2024 and 2028 in the Var Valley (Nice). The project covers an area as large as Nice’s city centre but consists of a buffer territory that serves the city. This creates a dynamic of interdependence—one area provides while the other benefits. Working at this scale is challenging. The Var Plain is a formidable territory of contrasts, and its singular character must be protected in order to guide its development. The land belongs to multiple entities—the city, the department, the region, and, in our case, the state as our client. Our role is both as moderators and analysts—identifying dysfunctions and assessing whether the management strategies of the past 15 years have been effective. Political decisions often set the framework—for example, the Winter Olympics will take place in this valley. We take such confirmed actions as starting points, integrating smaller projects into a larger vision.

Another key aspect is defining where to build. As landscape architects, we don’t dictate what must be built; instead, we define the conditions for construction. We ensure that all interconnected factors—soil, mobility, local habits, political direction, financial constraints, and natural ecosystems—are taken into account. It’s about balancing contradictions rather than imposing a rigid doctrine. Cities aren’t just built with buildings. They are shaped by wind, sunlight, nature, mobility, inhabitants, and even birds. 

One of our projects took a "negative space" approach—rather than designing what should be built, we studied what should remain untouched. By analysing wind patterns, biodiversity corridors, and transportation flows, we aimed to create a city that is more adaptive and resilient. A city isn’t just a collection of designated activity zones—it’s a complex system of interactions. For example, we work on risk awareness: many threats, like those from the ground, rivers, and climate, are invisible. Recognising these risks helps shape the city’s form and function.

As I mentioned at the beginning, Réseaux works at multiple scales, and we always have to take into account our five-pillar approach when we approach a new project. We must take all elements into account and find a balance among them. Our work spans large-scale urban studies, operational urban planning, and smaller, more experimental projects, requiring collaboration with different experts. For instance, we do collaborate with architects on garden designs, but if we limit ourselves to planting trees, we’re just tree planters—any architect can place trees in AutoCAD. Our role is about defining context. Instead of merely selecting plants, we establish landscape narratives—mountain gardens, river gardens—ensuring that the design fits within a broader ecological and cultural framework. This creates a meaningful dialogue between architects and landscape architects, enriching the overall project. As landscape architects, we act as facilitators, creating the conditions for different people and expertise to meet and collaborate.

Key concepts for Réseaux 

LC: I imagine our approach as a cloud of interrelated networks forming patterns and revealing underlying structures. These patterns act as a language, combining different key elements.

One of the most fundamental elements is geography—it connects soil, the visible and invisible, and justifies how we inhabit and move through spaces. Geography is directly linked to landscape and the rhizome, a root system that spreads underground and nourishes surrounding vegetation. These three concepts—geography, landscape, and ground—are deeply intertwined. Another essential concept is the prototype. Experimentation is crucial because it bridges vision and action. When we develop large-scale strategies, we pair them with experimental prototypes—smaller, real-world interventions that test our ambitions. These tangible projects validate our ideas before they’re applied on a larger scale. Prototyping also ties into our laboratory approach—an ongoing cycle of testing, learning, and refining. We work closely with geologists and soil experts to develop methods for adaptability, nature integration, and topographical responses. Seasonality is another key factor. With my background in botany, I deeply value the changing nature of landscapes. When we work, we emphasise four-season representations, ensuring that spaces evolve dynamically over time. 

Ultimately, our practice is built on these interconnected networks—geography, landscape, experimentation, adaptability, and seasonality—creating a fluid, responsive approach to urban and landscape design.

Adapting and evolving

LC: Over the past five years, I’ve focused on building a diverse portfolio—working across different project scales, from gardens to urban and landscape design. This year, we reached an important milestone by defining spaces for architects to work within. I’d like to continue developing this balance, strengthening my expertise in urban landscape design.

Even though I am an urbanist, I don’t claim to have mastered all the skills the role demands. As a landscape architect, I work with the ‘white spaces’ on the map—the undefined areas. By collaborating with urbanists, architects, and designers, I’m constantly learning new approaches. Over the next few years, I aim to refine this balance between disciplines, expanding our work in urban and landscape contexts while maintaining a strong focus on experimental projects. Small- to mid-scale projects (2,000 m² to a few hectares) are particularly valuable, as they allow us to test ideas in practice. Right now, we have two major projects: a 16-hectare infrastructure-to-urban-avenue conversion, a €25M project—unusual for us, but a fantastic opportunity. On the other hand, we’re working on a €1M project in the south of Paris, focusing on movement and soil continuity, which directly applies lessons learned from larger projects.

A key challenge is convincing clients to invest in what they don’t immediately see—long-term sustainability over short-term visual impact. We prioritise soil longevity and structural integrity rather than expensive furniture or dramatic lighting. Architects often discuss soil and water, but the real question is: how do we implement these ideas effectively? That’s the pressing challenge. I appreciate how these conversations are becoming more public, pushing us all to rethink our practices. This is why I value experimental projects—not just large studies that take six to nine years with uncertain outcomes, but tangible interventions that reinforce our expertise, credibility, and ability to solve technical challenges. Looking back, I see how much I’ve evolved since following my first project 12 years ago. 

A project we designed seven years ago in Bègles (near Bordeaux) was completed in 2024, and if I were to do it again today, I’d take a more organic, adaptable approach. There are no fixed solutions, but we must hold onto core principles—like structured soil systems—while remaining flexible. For example, in one project, only 25% of the surface is mineral, but beneath it, 15% is conductive soil, ensuring long-term resilience. These are the kinds of choices we need to communicate to clients.

In Bègles, the original brief called for accommodating multiple uses, but the site conditions weren’t ideal. The design answered the brief, but material consumption at the end of the project wasn’t optimised. That’s why flexibility is key. We have to anticipate how urban conditions will change over 10 or more years. Things evolve quickly—five years ago, cutting down trees in a project wasn’t an issue; today, it’s unacceptable. I see this as an organic approach—cities, like living organisms, must be able to evolve on their own. Our role is to create public spaces that enable this transformation. With increasingly tight budgets, we have to find creative, flexible solutions that work across different scales—not just gardens but entire urban systems. We absorb vast amounts of information, synthesise it, and extract projects from it. It’s a great responsibility.