A journey that led to Switzerland

VK: I've also noticed in the past few years while researching the architectural market in general, that many new and emerging practices are sprouting up. There seems to be a unique environment in this country, which I believe is closely tied to the democratic nature of Switzerland, where anyone can start something relatively easily. 

Many people are moving to Switzerland from abroad, and I believe many of these newcomers are the ones establishing practices here. I, too, am part of this wave of architects. Born and raised in Bulgaria, I completed my first master’s degree at the University of Sofia. After working for a couple of years in Bulgaria, I established my practice there. At that time, it was more of a concept where friends collaborated on temporary projects and small interventions. Our work was quite isolated and limited to the country, and we wanted to broaden our perspectives, which led us to study abroad.

My partner and I completed our second master's degrees in Italy, in Milan and Naples. This opened the door to professional experiences in various European countries, including Italy, Malta, Germany, and France, with our most recent stop being Switzerland. Travelling between these countries was crucial for understanding the diverse approaches to architecture. We often assume that European countries share similar practices, but once you start working in a certain country, you realise how different architectural methods can be.

Switzerland has always fascinated us. It's an interesting crossroads in Europe, both open and closed in certain ways. However, I can't say we knew much about the country before arriving. I'm grateful for the knowledge we gained during our professional and academic years in other contexts, as it allows us to reflect on and compare architectural practices here. In our time in Switzerland, we've met many wonderful people and encountered intriguing projects. This experience felt like a turning point, where we realised we could contribute to our understanding of architecture. Here, we've seen that not only the younger generation but also well-established practices are forward-thinking, challenging the status quo, and stepping into the future with climate considerations, reuse, the use of local materials, and green architecture. And these experiences made us want to create something of our own.

Diverse roads that led to the same place

VK: Establishing a practice hasn’t been a linear process, and I don't believe it has to be. I prefer my practice to focus on flexibility rather than strict rules. It may seem a bit chaotic from the outside, but the diverse backgrounds and experiences I've gained during my practice and studies have helped me understand how I want to work and how I don't want my practice to be. We've encountered many projects in various phases, and now we’ve reached a certain point.  While we appreciate great renderings, we don't think that's the main focus.We've worked extensively with BIM-oriented software and 3D printing, but now we consciously want to take a step back. We’re currently creating scale models by hand and using a lot of photography. We spend about half our time on research projects, which connects to my studies in Naples. This slow architecture approach, which is very analogue, is essential to our practice.

Relying heavily on renderings narrows our possibilities. We only know a few studios we’d like to collaborate with due to the overwhelming noise in architectural visualisations. Only a handful understand what we want, and that aligns with our research, photography, and the subjects we incorporate into our architectural practice. It’s analogue and a bit old-school, but this is how we understand architecture and how we want to create it. I’m not sure how it will work for every project, as not all may be suitable for this approach. However, with many years of experience in BIM coordination and complex solutions, along with digital fabrication, we’d like to slow things down and return to a more hands-on approach. We prioritise speaking, reading, and writing, and we hope to be involved in teaching at some point. These are the aspects we truly value and believe will enhance our architecture.

Blending life and work

VK: We always refer to ourselves as a team—my professional partner, who is also my life partner. People often assume we have similar backgrounds and experiences, but in reality, our paths have been quite different. Ultimately, we share a deep affinity for the same things and strive for the same results. There’s no doubt about that. While we have a shared vision, we bring different tools to the table, which makes our collaboration both interesting and enriching.

My partner is an engineer, and I started as a structural engineer. Over the years, we’ve followed each other’s experiences, but we’ve never worked together in the same office. Together, we create a cohesive project without the need to switch roles; each of us can take on tasks traditionally associated with the other.

Of course, being a couple adds complexity, especially in blending personal and professional lives. It's sometimes challenging to draw a line between the two, but I think this integration is beneficial. If you can make your professional life fulfilling enough that it doesn't negatively impact your personal life, then you're on the right path.

A fresh chapter

VK: We used to have a practice, well, more of a concept—kind of open workshops where lots of people worked together. We completed several interesting projects, but we wanted to start fresh because it had been over ten years, and we realised we were completely different people. While perhaps not much has changed personally, as architects, we have definitely transformed. All those years of experience, projects, places, and people we’ve met have shaped us, and I believe they've changed us for the better. We wanted to build on our experience without discarding it. We aren’t afraid to say that we’re starting now. We may refer to some past projects, but overall, we want a fresh start because if we had the chance to work on those projects now, we would approach them differently.

The first step is often about establishing an online presence, but for us, we want to take things slowly. This is in line with our idea of how architecture happens, and we want to carefully consider how we present ourselves and where we position ourselves. We don’t want to scream from the rooftops—though that might be important in today’s digital world—we prefer to take another path, for better or worse, with all its positives and negatives.

We have been developing the visual identity of our office over the past few months. Throughout this process, we've explored numerous examples to help clarify what we want to showcase, collaborating with graphic designers and photographers—always with a focus on the handmade. We often work with small studios—some emerging like us, others more established—but we particularly enjoy engaging with younger, independent artists. It took us time to understand why we wanted to work with these people. Are they good enough for us, and are we good enough for them? Alignment is crucial. If we can’t find common ground, there’s no point in collaborating. So it’s not just about finding designers online and saying, ‘I like this one, let’s work together.’ It’s a process.

For instance, working on our visual identity before even starting on the website has led us to reflect deeply on our projects, experiences, and backgrounds—to rethink how we organise, catalogue, and archive our work—questions we had never asked ourselves before. Now, we have the time to address them, and we’re grateful for that. Although this process may take longer than usual, we understand its importance and want to take these initial steps slowly before becoming fully public.

That said, we’re working on a few projects, too, right now. We have two interior design commissions that we’re really enjoying. We think interior design is a natural extension of architecture, and it deeply interests us. In addition, we have two other projects—one completed, which was a competition in Rome, and the other ongoing—focused on temporary installations for festivals. We are fascinated by ephemeral architecture and have had several experiences in this area in the past, some of which gained recognition in Bulgaria. This is how we initially got started, and we remain keen on creating temporary interventions that pose questions beyond just visual appeal.

Recently, we also completed two major competitions: one small and one large. The first was for a school in Switzerland, where we aimed to work with local materials and innovative techniques to create something beautiful. The second competition was for a museum in Finland, which we found to be a very interesting experience. 

Balancing local and global perspectives

VK: On one hand, we kind of see ourselves as a local practice, particularly in how we engage with local architecture, construction techniques, materials, and vernacular architecture. This has always fascinated us, whether we were in Malta, Italy, or now in Switzerland. For instance, working on a competition here has prompted us to start thinking like a local practice.

However, we can’t forget the experience we’ve gained elsewhere. It’s highly relevant and valuable. Being here, we understand the importance of being conscious about our actions and positioning. The context in Switzerland, especially in Basel, is quite different from other places, and this diversity in vernacular practices is something we want to preserve in the coming decades.

On the other hand, despite our involvement in competitions in Switzerland and abroad, we must also acknowledge that we are still foreigners in the country. Three years out of the 40 of our lives is not a long time, after all. We have always viewed Basel as a melting pot, situated at the crossroads of Switzerland, France, and Germany, and as a hub in the heart of Europe. The city is well-connected and has a diverse international community, which blurs the borders.

For example, parts of the train station are French, the airport is located in France but somehow serves Switzerland, and another train station in Basel is actually German. These unique characteristics make the city incredibly international, despite being relatively small. We want to maintain our background, and this curiosity that brought us here will continue to drive us forward.