Crafting vision beyond repetition

GE: When we look at architecture, creation, and construction, not just in Mexico but globally, we often see a critique of the system. Many things are built simply because they have to be, following mainstream trends without much thought. That's why I prefer to call much of the construction not architecture but scenography. When I arrived here and saw what was being built, I noticed a lot of repetition. These structures lack context, concept, and innovation; they're just mimicking each other. 

I arrived in Baja California Sur about 17 years ago and thought about what I could do here that would evoke the essence of architecture in Baja California Sur. Although I'm not originally from here, I wondered what my vision and input could be. Over time, this contemplation evolved into a very important thought to me: What is the purpose behind what I'm doing? Whether it's interviews, building, or any other endeavour, what truly moves you? Ultimately, regardless of whether you're practising architecture or anything else, you must treat your work as an integral part of your life. If you lack passion, you're wasting everything: your time, resources, and creativity. You must find ways to integrate everything you have into what you're doing. Passion leads to purpose, and whatever we do should extend beyond the immediate task. With this mindset, we discovered that using earth where resources are scarce, was part of the answer. 

From desert to lush oasis

GE: Baja California Sur is a region that I'm really passionate about. I fell in love with it immediately. Originally from Mexico City, I moved here in 2007. It's been 17 years now, and I find it fascinating. I would describe it as having a Mediterranean feel, the closest we can get to that in Mexico, with its unique climate and lifestyle. Although it's not physically an island, Baja California Sur feels like one due to its distinct way of life. Surrounded by the ocean on three sides, it enjoys a beautiful tropical climate that's dry rather than overly humid. Summers can be humid and hot, but the rest of the year typically offers pleasant weather. Geographically, the region's proximity to the US and Canada, especially the West Coast, has spurred development and economic opportunities. The context has had its ups and downs since I've been here, but the last four to five years, particularly post-COVID, have seen a significant boom. However, I foresee long-term challenges arising from this rapid development. One of the first things that attracted me to Baja was its emptiness and solitude. It remains the least populated state in Mexico. Outside of Los Cabos and La Paz, the state is still largely open and uninhabited, offering beautiful, vast spaces. All these factors make Baja California Sur, and Los Cabos specifically, a very iconic spot for tourists. It attracts a certain economic demographic, leading to the development of second or third residences for many visitors. 

It's an interesting time now, with rapid growth leading to increased density and bringing numerous challenges related to infrastructure, mobility, waste management, and, most importantly, water. Being in the desert, water is a major concern for all of us. Although Baja California Sur is classified as a desert, it is incredibly productive. From a biological and botanical perspective, it can be considered a jungle. When tropical storms occur, the dry, grey landscape and mountains transform into a vibrant green. The soil here is remarkably fertile; just a few drops of water can make everything bloom. It's a fascinating and unique aspect of the region.

Designing with nature

GE: I visited Baja California Sur only once before deciding to move here with my wife. She was already familiar with the area, working remotely from Mexico City on various projects. I had just returned from studying in Barcelona, and she suggested we move to Los Cabos. I didn't know much about Los Cabos at the time; I just had some vague images and ideas. But when we visited, I saw the potential. Although I didn't have a clear plan or idea of what I was going to do, I felt drawn to the place and thought it would be a good place to develop my life. I knew I didn't want to live in a city, and at that time, Los Cabos was far from being one. Now, it's becoming more urban, but back then, it wasn't a city. As an architect and creator, one of my visions is to focus on development that looks backwards to a more natural, resilient way of living rather than everyone moving to and growing cities. I believe in moving towards the countryside, the mountains, or similar areas. This vision isn't just for me but resonates with many of our clients as well, aiming for a more basic and sustainable way of living through resilient architecture. We have also integrated permaculture into our vision and projects. While our projects are not extreme examples of permaculture, we believe in the principles of regenerative design. This systematic approach to design should be our present reality, not just a future aspiration. It's about developing a different vision, one that emphasises sustainability and thoughtful design.

Mapping a new order

GE: When I first arrived my initial reaction was to approach the situation with the European mindset I had developed, which emphasised thorough investigation and the use of resources available at Barcelona's city hall. However, in Baja California Sur, I found that such resources were non-existent. There were no comprehensive regulations or normative guidelines in place. The city is still debating an urban plan called the 2040 Urban Planning Normatives. In more rural areas outside the urban fabric of Los Cabos, the lack of regulation is even more pronounced. There's little oversight on what's happening in the mountains, protected areas, and other regions. My first venture here, which I took on as a volunteer project, was to address this lack of regulation. I, along with some friends, created a collective we call CAPALab to tackle these issues and help develop a more structured approach to urban and rural planning in the region.

CAPALab derives its name from Los Cabos ("CA") and La Paz ("PA"), as we saw these areas as part of a single, biologically interconnected bio-region. Our approach was rooted in understanding the local biology and geology, which we believe is crucial for architects and designers to make informed decisions about where and why to move anything you find in this place. We began by mapping and diagramming the region to gain a clearer understanding before proposing solutions, avoiding the ego-driven approach of claiming to have all the answers. At that time, Los Cabos did not have many architectural competitions, and such opportunities are rare in Mexico overall. Therefore, like many architectural firms starting out, we began with small projects for friends. In 2007, just before the global financial crisis, the economy was booming, and there was a shortage of architects, providing us with numerous opportunities. We kept ourselves busy with both research and small projects. However, within a year and a half, the economic downturn of 2008 hit, changing our trajectory. The wave of the economic crisis reached us, resulting in the loss of most of our commissions and forcing us to rethink our approach and adapt to the new circumstances.

Desert inspiration

GE: Interestingly, the first rammed earth building I saw was not here but in Switzerland during a trip. It was Peter Zumthor's chapel, a project that deeply fascinated me. Zumthor's work left a lasting impression, and upon returning, I delved into researching rammed earth architecture further. Besides Peter Zumthor, one of the architects who influenced me was Rick Joy, an American known for his work in Arizona, where the landscape bears similarities to this region. He gained renown for his use of rammed earth construction. The connection between Zumthor's chapel and Rick Joy's approach sparked my interest and influenced my architectural vision here in Baja California Sur. I began researching Rick Joy's work and became increasingly fascinated by earth materials, particularly rammed earth, which I hadn't explored before. This led me to discover a practitioner named David Easton in Northern California, near Napa Valley. Through connections and friends in Northern California, north of San Francisco, I had the opportunity to attend a three-day workshop on rammed-earth construction. It covered the basics, framework, mixing techniques, and application. Armed with this newfound knowledge, I returned with the confidence to experiment using local materials available here. Through practical research and experimentation, I started combining materials and techniques. While I can't claim absolute certainty, I strongly believe that we have some of the best quality materials suitable for rammed earth construction here in Baja California Sur. 

The sand and minerals found here in Baja California Sur are truly remarkable. Through testing and sampling, especially with rammed earth, I discovered the incredible potential of the local materials. As an architect, it made perfect sense to me to focus on using materials indigenous to Baja. This led to a fundamental question: What can I create here using what is locally available? Unlike designing with wood in a forest setting, where materials are abundant, Baja lacks large trees and an established industry for conventional building materials. While cement and cinderblock dominate the local construction scene, I was determined to challenge this norm by advocating for architecture sourced from Baja's natural resources. Of course, this approach isn't entirely exclusive: I don't claim it to be. However, it represents the core philosophy of Taller fabriKG, our architectural firm, which is to prioritise local materials and vernacular techniques. We draw inspiration from vernacular architecture, observing how traditional techniques like using vara or palo de arco (a local stick similar to bamboo) have been employed over generations. Preserving and innovating upon these traditional practices is deeply important to me. It ensures that our architecture not only respects the local environment but also reflects the cultural heritage and sustainability principles inherent in vernacular construction.

Missions to rammed earth

GE: Baja California Sur was built around missions established by Franciscans and other Spanish missionaries sent to the region to establish these outposts. Similar to California with San Diego, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, Baja California and Baja California Sur also have a series of missions along the peninsula. These missions introduced olives, dates, oranges, and other citrus fruits to the region. They initially built many structures using stones found locally and later began using adobe bricks. However, adobe construction faced challenges in this region due to the soil composition. Unlike regions with clay-rich soil like Morelos or Oaxaca, Baja California has sandy soils that erode easily and lack quality clay. Many older buildings made of adobe still stand but show signs of deterioration due to these soil conditions. In exploring alternatives, we discovered rammed earth construction, which requires less clay and more sand, about 10% clay and 50% sand, compared to the opposite ratio needed for adobe. This natural material choice emerged as the practical answer, aligning with the local conditions rather than imposing a foreign technique. Rammed earth also proved advantageous for its thermal properties, creating thick walls that provide natural insulation against the intense sun. When combined with passive solar design principles, which consider factors like sun exposure, wind patterns, and orientation, rammed earth architecture not only respects traditional wisdom but also enhances sustainability in contemporary applications. It's a return to fundamental architectural principles that focus on functionality and environmental harmony rather than purely aesthetic concerns.

Against the grain

GE: We were determined to go against the current and uphold our philosophy and vision for the building. Eventually, we connected with like-minded individuals who shared our vision. During the period from 2009 to 2010, we faced challenges due to the local economy and the general lack of work. Despite these hurdles, we persevered, and by 2011, we completed our first building using rammed earth. Finding a courageous client who believed in our vision was pivotal. I explained to them the principles behind this type of construction, even though the building itself is not visibly rammed earth; it is plastered with lime, giving it a pristine white appearance. However, at its core, it is a rammed-earth structure. This project was essentially a thesis for me—an exercise in simplicity and budgeting. Despite the misconception that rammed earth is expensive, we demonstrated that it could be done within budget constraints. The design focused on simplicity, featuring three separate volumes arranged around a courtyard with vaulted roofs. These roofs were inspired by ancient techniques using vaulted structures with catenary arches, which minimise material use while maximising strength.

We embarked on a project that wasn't a grand architectural statement but rather a simple, on-budget endeavour, a building with a brick vaulted roof supported by rammed earth walls. Despite its unassuming appearance to passersby, the results were remarkable. Inside, you immediately feel the coolness and freshness that rammed earth brings, showcasing its architectural qualities: comfort, sustainability, and minimal environmental impact. This project served as a pivotal moment for us. By demonstrating the effectiveness of rammed earth in a practical setting, we opened a Pandora's box of possibilities. Once built, we could tangibly show its benefits and qualities to others—how it enhances living spaces and offers sustainable solutions. With connections to the West Coast, where similar thinking is prevalent, we found resonance. Many were seeking what we offered, something different from the mainstream options dominating the area. I believe we were among the first to introduce rammed earth construction to Los Cabos. It's a source of pride that our initial efforts have since inspired a trend. For instance, Acre, a public restaurant and resort we built with rammed earth, played a crucial role in popularising the technique. Its success demonstrated that rammed earth could be both practical and aesthetically pleasing, influencing subsequent developments, even internationally in places like Chile.

Acre truly brought rammed earth into the spotlight in Los Cabos, and I take great pride in that. It's had a significant impact, not necessarily because it's our most aesthetically impressive work, but because it introduced many people to rammed earth for the first time. Seeing a massive rammed earth wall at a restaurant prompted curiosity and inquiries from people who were unfamiliar with the material. They would ask, "What is that?" Some even mistook it for a finish rather than recognising it as a structural element. For me, this is where our work has made a meaningful difference by influencing perceptions and encouraging wider adoption of environmentally friendly architectural practices.

Local charm versus global trends

There are talented designers all across Mexico whom I deeply admire, whether in Mexico City, Guadalajara, or elsewhere. However, what I've observed, without singling anyone out specifically, is that some projects designed outside of Los Cabos and brought here often lack an understanding of the local context. (geografy, climat conditions, biology, etc) This is quite common in our globalised architectural practice. Like many architects, I've also worked on international projects, such as one in Saudi Arabia a few years back. A client there admired our renderings and wanted that aesthetic for his desert environment—a starkly different context. Similarly, I've seen other architects attempt to replicate their designs from elsewhere in Los Cabos. Before our project, Acre, there were other architects involved with the developers in the area. I was brought in after a major hurricane, Odile, hit in September 2014. The developers, who had initially engaged architects from Mexico City, invited me to work on the restaurant, my first project with them. Reviewing what had been started before, I noted a beautiful project but felt it didn't fully grasp the essence of the place. The rooms seemed enclosed and disconnected from the outdoors, which is one of the unique charms of Baja—being able to enjoy the open air and climate. While these architects likely visited the site, the design didn't fully leverage what Baja California or Los Cabos has to offer. I'm not suggesting this applies to everyone, but it's a common challenge. Many projects here, from grand residences to others, sometimes miss capturing the essence of the local environment and lifestyle. So, for me, this is a key starting point for any project—a conversation about how we can protect ourselves from the environment, harnessing the sun's advantages. It's crucial to be deeply grounded in these elements from the outset. This is where I see a divergence from best practices in some architectural approaches.

It's clear that many of our clients seek us out because they appreciate our work with rammed earth and understand its benefits. They see our projects and appreciate the spaces we create, the comfortable temperatures, and the overall feeling our architecture evokes. For us, the starting point is always the landscape. Whether it's visiting Acre or envisioning our other projects, the landscape is pivotal. I strive to integrate our designs harmoniously with the natural surroundings, ensuring our buildings complement and respect the existing environment. Enric Miralles has been a significant influence on me. While studying in Barcelona, I had the opportunity to intern at his workshop, EMBT, under Benedetta Tagliabue. Miralles' approach to architecture, particularly in how he merges forms with the landscape, has deeply resonated with me. His early works like the Igualada Cemetery and the Scottish Parliament, are especially inspiring in how they blend seamlessly into their contexts.

Beyond the basics

GE: I believe our architecture and vision have evolved to address more complex issues, particularly in terms of environmental responsibility. Building with earth isn't just about being "green" but being mindful of our environmental impact. By using earth, we reduce emissions and minimise our reliance on cement, a major polluter. Of course, we still use concrete for foundations and roof slabs, but we integrate these materials thoughtfully alongside earth. Over the years, we've delved into permaculture, regenerative design, and integral water systems, which I find crucial. Water, in all its forms and uses, is pivotal. It's not just about adapting to our arid surroundings but about a global imperative. I foresee water becoming a significant global issue, which is evident in geopolitics, where control over water resources is strategic. Locally, it's about using water intelligently in building, capturing rainwater, and reusing it effectively. It's about integrating these practices into our architectural and living systems, where even our earth walls "breathe" with water. For me, this approach, reproduce, reuse, and reduce, is not just a philosophy but a necessity to promote sustainable architectural practices globally.