An office off the beaten path

JS: Here in Kollbrunn, we're really in the countryside of Switzerland, in the Töss valley. It's a small, rural area. The complex where my practice is located includes 40 different professions. There are carpenters, car mechanics, stone carvers, and I’m probably the only architect here. In fact, there aren’t many architects in the valley at all, especially outside the towns. It's rare to be an architect in the countryside because many large companies build without architects or only with their own draughtsmen.

I grew up in the countryside, in a few villages along the river, but I moved to Winterthur for school and to live in the town. I always wanted to return to the countryside, though. I saw a lot of buildings here that were either poorly designed or constructed without architects. I knew there were opportunities for me to make a change, especially because the local mindset tends to focus on building the maximum for the lowest cost possible. I’ve always believed that buildings should serve more than just the owner—they should be for the public, for the community. The birth of my first child and the lack of quality in architecture was the initial motivation for coming back.

My father was a carpenter, so building was always part of my background, alongside craftsmanship. I even did an apprenticeship as a car mechanic, though I never worked in that field—it was just a childhood dream. In Switzerland, it's possible to become an architect without attending a university like ETH Zurich. I started with an apprenticeship, then did the matura, which provides you the qualification for further study and then I applied to the Fachhochschule ZHAW (Zurich University of Applied Sciences). They accepted me, and I completed my bachelor's degree over three years. Before that, I worked in an architectural office for a year to gain some practical experience. So, my path to architecture wasn’t the typical one. I didn’t go from high school to university to an office. Instead, I came from a craftsmanship background into architecture.

I see myself as an architect with a strong connection to craftsmanship. Working with my hands and building models are really important to me. I believe in learning from craftsmanship—listening closely to how things are built—and not just coming from school with the mindset that I can design something and others should build it. For me, it starts with sketching, drawing, and then moves to construction. I don't focus much on theoretical aspects but approach it more from a practical, hands-on perspective, almost like a craftsman. However, I know I'm not a craftsman, but I work alongside them.

It's important to bring this mechanical thinking to architecture. From my background in car mechanics, I understand how things fit together, and from my father, I learned how wood works and how to build with it. Before starting the design process, I aim to know that all the pieces will fit together, ensuring functionality, not just aesthetics. I want the craftsmen I work with to see that I respect their expertise and that I understand how things work. When I sit down with a carpenter or metalworker, I want them to feel that I value their craft, and that I can learn from them—not the other way around. They might learn from me in terms of aesthetics and architecture as culture, but I learn the craft from them.

Subtle changes, lasting impact

JS: A big part of my goal is to promote building as a cultural act, particularly for public spaces. In my village, most houses are protected, but there’s an opportunity to show the government that we can make subtle changes. The way people live has changed dramatically over the last twenty years, but these old houses are protected, and you can't touch them initially. However, when you have the right plans and ideas, you can challenge this ‘no-touch’ mentality. So, my idea as an architect in the countryside is to collaborate with the government to update these old buildings while maintaining their character. At the same time, I want to show people that building with an architect is worthwhile.

I rent the house I live in from my father, and we want to subtly change the house, but initially, they said we couldn't because it's protected. However, by showing the government that younger people want to live in the countryside, and how they have different needs, they understand that if those needs aren't met, people will move to the city, leaving villages empty. The government wants to attract young people to come back, so we're working together to find a compromise. If they see that the result makes people happy—both clients and house owners—it benefits everyone, and more people will stay in the area. This is what I love about my profession: showing people the passion that exists for these old houses and how we can breathe new life into them, not by tearing them down, but by transforming them into something that fits the modern world. 

It's a matter of gently guiding them in the right direction, always in a subtle way. The government needs to be approached carefully, but when done right, you can work together to find solutions.

Adapting to context

JS: I mostly work with private clients—house owners. However, I also worked on a project for a large company that owns a hotel and castle. The competition I won was for a restaurant in the area of the castle garden, which is also protected. The government approved the plan to build a new restaurant in that space. The competition was an invited one, with six or seven architectural teams. They wanted a young office, and I was lucky to be invited. I never thought I would win, especially given that some big offices from Zurich were involved. 

The competition was very strict because everything was protected. We worked with a landscape architect from St. Gallen, and together we created a master plan to bring the whole area back to its original state, reflecting the vision of the founder from 200 years ago, with a large tree-lined avenue and a subtle design. The restaurant itself is like a barn that blends in with the landscape. It steps back from the grand castle, keeping the focus on the castle rather than the restaurant. The structure is built into the hillside, with a light wooden frame, a simple roof, and pillars. All the kitchen and technical areas are hidden inside the hill, so they’re not visible from the outside, nor when you’re in the castle garden. The client, a mix of public and private entities, wanted the design to step back and allow the castle to remain the focal point, rather than the restaurant. This approach—considering what’s around, which trees are important, and understanding the local context—might be why I won the competition. 

Also, in this valley, there’s a gardening centre run by a family for over 110 years that plants and sells flowers. They’ve been growing their business and now want to expand into building. They gave me the opportunity to design something for them. Their dream is to create a public café and new large greenhouses for trees, which can also be used for events, and my project shows them how they can achieve that. The building is designed to be flexible, with adaptable spaces across its floors. The ground floor will house the garden centre with its greenhouses, a café, and a flower shop. The upper floors could be used for offices or apartments. This is important because the garden centre is located on a public bike path along the river, so it’s easily accessible for cyclists who can stop for coffee or a meal. The area on the other side is great for living, as it’s sunny and right by the river, making it an attractive place to live. 

The site for this project currently has some old greenhouses, and my idea is to preserve their memory by incorporating them into the design. We’ll remove these old greenhouses and repurpose their structure for the apartments on the third floor, creating a winter garden. The glass panels from the old greenhouses will be reused, rather than discarded. I see value in repurposing materials and structures in new ways. The greenhouse structure is simple, with screws that make it easy to disassemble and reassemble. This approach is important to me because it’s about using what’s already built and finding ways to repurpose it.

An approach tooted in arte povera

JS: One of the themes I addressed in my master thesis was the idea of returning to low-tech solutions, not in a simplistic way, but in a thoughtful, simple manner. Modern homes are increasingly digital, with touchscreens and automated systems, but these often cause frustration when something goes wrong—like when water touches a screen and it stops working. My goal was to think about how we could go back to basics, empowering people to be in control of their own homes. For example, why use expensive mechanical ventilation when you can simply open a window? It’s about simplicity and giving people the ability to manage their own space, without relying on specialists for every little change.

In my research, I explored these ideas in the context of an old, protected monastery. The challenge was to adapt new ways of living into this historic space. One of the key themes was ‘arte povera’—the idea of using simple, low-budget materials and methods. This was reflected in my project, which aimed to transform the space into something functional and accessible without losing its historical value. Another theme was exploring new ways of living in the countryside. This wasn’t about the traditional family home with multiple rooms, but rather a more communal, flexible approach to living, where spaces are shared and used differently. The main focus was ‘vivere povera’—how to live simply and meaningfully in a modern, low-tech way, while still respecting the environment and the resources available.

The project involved transforming the monastery cloister, which now has six or seven different owners, each owning a small part. My idea was to bring the owners together as a group—not investors, but as a collective—so they can work together to transform the old monastery into a communal living space. Historically, monks lived there, but now different people live in the building. My vision is to create a new way of living, where the seven owners are not separated, but instead share a community living space. This would address issues like ownership disputes over gardens and doors, making it easier to collaborate. The older house owners offer a form of housing for young people who do not want to live together traditionally and are supported by the young people in everyday life in return. This interdependence, along with the favourable construction and preservation of the existing structure, characterised my entire master's thesis and is still very much part of my work today.