My project brings together the methods of hacking and an intersectional feminist perspective on the city. Hacking is a term that originally emerged from a subculture who shared to enjoy the intellectual challenge to overcome the limitations of software computer systems. It is a process of problem solving which is characterised by experimentation, creativity and openness. For my research I traced well known hacks from the digital world and translated these into similar spatial tactics for an urban method by mapping out what they have in common. With this approach, I propose four different methods for urban hacking: spreading, camouflage, interception and overload. I introduce these methods as tools for spatial emancipation to work towards a more inclusive city.

An Intersectional feminist perspective on the city is the understanding of how overlapping identities, including race, class, ethnicity, religion and sexual orientation, impact the way people experience the city. First and foremost, it must be recognized that all genders should feel at home in the public realm. Therefore, in urban design, inclusive choices have to be made and I am interested in how these choices contribute to more inclusive cities. Our urban surroundings are not neutral; cities and neighbourhoods have been shaped by patriarchal values and contribute with their physical form to perpetuate and reproduce these values. This is exactly the issue which ‘feminist hacking’ tackles.

My project focuses on the use of public space between genders in the age from 12-18. Multiple studies have shown that non-male children aged nine and above, play less in public spaces than their male peers. Through a workshop toolkit I try to empower young citizens that are discriminated based on gender to co-create their built environment. Rather than just accepting public space as it is, they challenge it and become aware that they can influence their surroundings themselves. The feminist part is not about the object that will be created, but the action of coming together as a group and about creating awareness of claiming space in public.

How can a sense of nostalgia be used as a spatial design strategy and an encounter for value exchange? My research started off with talks with my Chinese friends studying and living in the Netherlands, and in other European countries. We shared and discussed our experiences and expectations on the concept of ‘community’: a place where people live who are considered a unit because of their common interests. Collecting our nostalgia from the community life at the university dormitories of our previous education in China, became my research tool in order to peek in their urgent desire to seek for their ideal community.

Through these talks, I propose my method of working: regarding our nostalgia as a design resource to sketch out new community scenarios. To further experiment on this idea, I introduced a fictional community as a participatory game for my friends, allowing them, although with different desires for an ideal community, to participate in my imagination for a collective community scenario. I imagine and invent seven roles, respectively representing seven different desires exposed in the talks with my friends. These seven roles would continuously shape this community according to their desires. In my role as an observer, under the pseudonym ‘Observo’, I consider it is my task distilling others’ desires into values that present potential for the development of the community and creating encounters for the value exchange.

Through the practice of this working method, I attempt to present the continuous development of a community in a conceived realm. I consider this project as a conjunction of reality and imagination, absorbing thoughts on the sense of community and hopefully offering a manual on how to contribute to your ideal community.

It has no colour, shape, smell, taste nor form -- it's practically imperceivable. Still, it's everywhere around us ‑- electricity. Is it possible to unreveal the process behind the electricity switch for the user, by making the user witness the electricity production? How to make the phenomena of electricity more sensible?

The goal of my project is to narrate the hidden layers behind the history of electricity. Electricity went through a lot of development in the past 150 years. I want to pinpoint some key inventions in the history of electricity to highlight their experimental character and impact on society.

Through my research, I recognized four key categories in the history of electricity: Nature|Movement|Communication|Torture. Some experiments from these categories I scale up and transform these into spatial designs with the aim to reach a heightened state of energy awareness. These designs are interrelated and together they form a "Passage of Electricity." The location of this passage is at Maasvlakte in Rotterdam, since this is the largest centre of power production and innovation in the Netherlands.

I want the visitor of the Maasvlakte to be able to have a sensory experience of electricity in an immersive and meditative setting.

In investigating the tasks and opportunities of the public space, I find special interest in their meaning to display a city's plurality to offer us a chance for the encounter of otherness. Public spaces contribute to the tolerance and solidarity of their users, they enable integration and strengthen our society, if they are provided in an accessible and safe way — if they are usable by everybody. Most of the public spaces in Northern European cities are dedicated to transit. But in their midst, we can find spaces whose lack of infrastructure makes moments of encounter or dwelling difficult — if not impossible. These places I call the No Purpose Cities within our city.

I want to introduce you to my method of working, the discipline of the modelling architect, who works right on site, in one-to-one, testing their work in its immediate effect. A discipline to appreciate these spaces and to turn them into stages of experience and encounter. By experimenting with the affordances of the city, I collect the ingredients to sketch out the different realities of the No Purpose City.

I claim continuous change as a necessity for a successful public sphere. I argue that statically designed spaces cannot live up to the needs of a constantly changing, fluid society. Through collaborations, I introduce a variety of activities, cultural experiences, and spatial change. What I offer authorities in their aim for successful public spaces is not one single solution. It's a continuous exploration process, in which some modelled spaces might stay for an hour while others prove to last for years. The variety of activities is key. The choice for the activities is site specific and follows what's present or missing in each location individually. The modelling architect offers spatial context, taking an agile role in the fabric of urban development processes.

‘Borders of Encounter’ is a quest for belonging in the city I live, and to understand how public spaces can act as social spaces for the habitants of a neighbourhood. For me, they should be the first focus when we aim at ‘belonging’: by being open and accessible to all, they become places where we are exposed to ‘others’, allowing us to see and hear from different positions, revealing our differences.

In my research I explored the reality of The Hague. Since its very foundation the city has been marked by segregation. Within this urban fragmentation, I explored the concept of ‘border’ as the area where the interaction within different communities increases. I identified the neighbourhood - Regentessekwartier - as ‘border’; in its diversity, it is characterised by many local activities ‘for and by local residents'. Yet, they mostly happen in the private rather than in the public space, arousing a sense of unapproachable.

My exploration of Regentesselaan, which crosses the neighbourhood from north to south, where I live exactly in the middle, gave the base for defining the spatial elements that would allow or deny me to encounter with ‘others’. I identified three categories: “points of entry” considers elements that invite or reject someone from entering; “points of moving” describes elements that allow movement, physically or visually, or deny it; “points of staying” relates to elements that allow me to remain.

With this research, which allowed me to become an expert, I set the tools needed for initiating a conversation with the residents of my neighbourhood, in order to turn the public space in the neglected area between the car roads on Regentesselaan, into a border of encounter. By connecting dots between the social layer and the spatial layer, I initiate a series of design proposals of possible local interventions constructed of temporary elements.

My practice explores new processes towards knowing and calming spaces. It seeks to expand cooperation and introduce different research methods in working with asylum seekers that would bring new contents in their everyday life. It speculates on the domestic environment that may emerge through processes of listening, tracing and drawing together with those living on the front line of precariousness. Within this trajectory, I created a participatory practice through which refugees can have the spatial agency to be host as an empowerment tool while living in temporary structures far from home.

The Art of Invitation is the workshop I designed and introduced in different asylum seeker centres across The Netherlands. The aim is to start a conversation with any medium refugees feel like expressing themselves, to reflect on which space inside the centre they could claim by being a host. There is a moment, during the workshop, when these reflections are transformed into actions and participants are empowered by being hosts.

The vision of Hospitality that my project shows, aims to reconsider the notion of privately owned and publicly owned space. My design continues in that direction developing a proposal for municipalities, recognizing that the current policy regulations lack an understanding from the refugee’s perspective and miss the necessity of creating collective spaces. I propose a new chapter called To be a host in a hosting country constituting new fundamental criteria for the planning of refugee centres.

My proposal comes to life not only with a new wording but also with illustrations that show how the architectural drawing is no longer exclusively about spatial configurations, but includes traces and objects of everyday use and patterns. The hope is that The Art of Invitation will constitute a base for the allocation of refugee centres with the presence of a collective space.

This project follows on my research titled ‘’Earth-Bound’’ that started from investigating vernacular architecture of the past and their building methods. Specific to vernacular architecture is the strong relationship with the ground and the use of traditional materials and resources from the area. This analysis led me to the remarkable landscape close to Maastricht, the ENCI- Quarry where for years the excavation of marl took place to produce cement. Now the mining has stopped, the factory has closed its doors and left a unique, powerful but unusual landscape with remains that tell a story of manipulation.

How can the spatial damage to the old quarry be reduced and reused for new values that will introduce a unique response to environmental metamorphoses? This question led me to the narrative on the relationship with the extracted territory and the leftover industrial spaces. Mining is an ongoing process; it shifts the meaning of the ground from time to time and challenges the fact that industries are created in a fixed moment while the ground is constantly undergoing transformations. Besides, these former industry landscapes often end up in the cycle of transitioning into a cultural and touristic landscape. How can I as a designer intervene in this process of transition?


My spatial interventions aim to represent the idea of this healing process of the landscape towards the scarred mining geography. A series of interventions highlight the ground that was taken away in order to spark the visitor’s imagination and invite them to explore their immediate surroundings. This path and journey intend to give time to reflect on how we interact with the ground, its form, and resources.

This project disputes the idea of time and temporality in a transitioning industry landscape and longs to form an example and inspiration to address on how we can build more adaptable spaces with a strong relationship with the ground.

Aesthetic experiences, designed for the eye of the beholder, are still the most appreciated value of architecture. This situation reinforces our dependency and dominance on the visual sense while the other senses like touch, tend to get a backseat. As the use of digital experiences in the built and domestic environment increases, we are becoming progressively unfamiliar with materiality. This trend, amplified by the current COVID pandemic, has intensified these shortcomings, and has resulted in an architectural design practice in which the influence of tactility is at risk.

This "Sensory Deprivation" became the driving force in my research: how can this forgotten materiality within architecture regain ground and be given renewed attention through tactile stimulation? During my research I analyzed my material collection to orientate myself on the tactile qualities of materials. This collection contributed to my research methodology to explore ‘tactility by encounter’ whereby touch can generate detailed and durable memories. These so-called tactile memories of materials and textures ensure that each time a person enters a space containing certain materials, it is easier to orientate themselves and feel comfortable because the excited sensation is already familiar.

As a spatial designer, I feel the urge to encourage the emphasis on a conscious material selection in architecture. In this way extra sensory layers like comfort, support, caring, intimacy can be provoked as well as contrary sensations causing for instance discomfort, repulsion and cautiousness. Through this exploration of materials and textures, I aim to contribute to a stronger sensorially fulfilling experience by the user and to bring back “sense enhancing moments” in our built environment.

‘Her Practice’ is an interdisciplinary design project aiming to tell her story; to bring things to the front; to establish a new design practice following an intersectional feminist approach. This practice focuses on the “dialogue” that should be carefully cultivated when the designer and user come together, before and during the design process. This practice simultaneously aims to create future domesticities which not only satisfy and facilitate the user but that also shape social behavioral patterns.

The proposal takes the public through an interactive route which tells this story, my quest, and finally empowers other individuals leading them to read, to listen, to understand, to experience, even to identify themselves with my autobiographical story. Through my grandmother’s kitchen I question the gender performativity and patriarchal structures working as common ground which allows the users to embrace their own truths as they compare facts, objects, spatial paths or behaviors with their own domestic environments.

‘Her Practice’ is telling her story also in order to encourage other individuals to tell their own. When the designers know, understand and consider the real needs of the users, listening and accepting their own “truths”, then they can achieve a resilient design that respects the users, meets their needs and finally inspires them.

Through this practice I see myself as a critical practitioner rather than an expert, believing that everyone can be potential expert based on their own lived experience. Thus, I invite other users to explore, discuss and develop together this practice exercising on my grandmother’s house through the alternation of scale, spatial qualities and domestic rituals. This collective process drives us to exchange thoughts and common visions for a new design paradigm which reflect more equal and inclusive worlds using a feminist approach.

My project questions the normative aesthetics and standardisation of our built environment. Nowadays, this is still dictated by the Vitruvian scale on ideal measures and proportions for the human body. This culture of standardisation intensified by the introduction of the first Modernist architecture manuals such as 'Neufert - Architect's Data' (1936), with the objective of enabling a rapid and systematic design of spaces. As such, these manuals solely promote a norm of standard living and efficiency of everyday activities, neglecting the intrinsic values that spatial design can offer like bringing people together and to build social bonds with others.

While organizing, experimenting and analysing multiple dining workshops, I traced several of these values I would like to embrace that foster emotional connections and relationships between the meal participants. Of these, the greatest one I found was in actions of interdependency: situations where two or more people are dependent on each other. During these hilarious moments of shared discomfort, to my surprise new ways of communication, interaction, imagination, playfulness and care for each other occurred. I meticulously described these experiments for my research as a basis for my proposal for a new dining scenario, with the ultimate goal to connect people through design.

‘Dining with Interdependency’ is therefore a new dining scenario. By focusing on the ritual of food, with a system of tubes and suspended objects, I aim to disrupt everyday rituals and ingrained habits while preparing food, cooking, sharing and eating, promoting connection among people through the act of interdependency.

Ubiquitous Modularity reconsiders conditioned working spaces by rethinking existing resources and concepts. Instead of renting an office or studio and having office furniture, my project approaches a dematerialization of the workspace.

UM is appreciating the sustainable use of materials and tools suggesting a synergy approach for a better environmental and economical solution.

In the past few years, a significant amount of FabLabs and public workshops emerged, offering, guided instructions, tools and, devices if needed both for professionals and DIY bastler hobbyists. One just needs to pay a membership fee each month.

In this particular way, I started to investigate fluidity and flexibility as an important aspect of the creative process by traveling as an inspirational source. The radically of being constantly on move, cutting and assembling in a public workshop in Berlin, looking after new interesting materials at the supplier store in Eindhoven, and working on your idea in landmark square fronting the Vatican. Transportation becomes more dominant as an office. Everything will be short term additionally, Interactions increase. Dynamism, the functionality of structures within urbanites resulting eliminate possession of stable premises shaping a new form of nomadicity, designing a modular network between locations, expertises and designers.

čičak is a metaphor about a journey of immersing yourself fully in sensorial realm.

It’s an invitation to awaken what is already within ourselves and dive inward to explore the hidden treasures. Senses are our way to connect, communicate, discover. The only thing left to do is to start walking. After that everything unfolds naturally.

Through questioning existing conventions and listening to our inner voice we can realize what we really desire - to feel alive and balanced.

What if the new public workspace isn’t a workspace at all? What if it’s a journey of feelings?

čičak is calling you to be curious, to move in different ways, to experiment, to feel with your full existence, to share it with the world, to listen to your intuition, to be sensitive. Embrace change and the inputs from outside as a motivation.

The design comes from inspiration experienced through travel and natural discoveries. The textile structure symbolizes a second skin with more functions and purposes. Archive, performative tool, shelter, layer for interactions,reminder for balance. The aim is to experiment with the shape and find possible interactions and their meanings. Notebook “map of senses” is the moment of awareness in a creative form. Through the design of elements, the traveler is encouraged to freely move through space, time and feelings. To just flow, be present, interact with others,collect experiences and archive haptic memories. It is a performative act through which we start a dialog and discover new connections.

The journey never ends. We carry ourselves and leave traces.

Paper is an inexpensive and simple material to try out new techniques, experiment, make mistakes and let your imagination run wild. Behind every finished project are ideas on paper. You can play without the pressure of achieving a perfect result and with the freedom to build something at a different pace, shaping and applying new ideas, decisions and considerations.

My approach was to reduce my public workspace to a pack of 500 sheets of white paper and using it in several public interventions. Within the confines of my paper-based public workshop, I have gained freedom; I could take the paper wherever I wanted in any situation and at any time. I had the freedom to choose the size of my public workshop; depending on the day, I took at least one sheet of paper or more. The purity of white sheets in a public setting creates a contrast that immediately draws my attention to the space surrounding me and the people and actions that inhabit it. The blank sheets drive the process of understanding my surroundings and gathering these impressions.

I decided to present it as a useful product that promises a solution for an alternative outdoor work experience. My manifesto also promotes the product, which contains 500x blank sheets of paper. The documentation of my public interventions is projected onto a single sheet of A4 paper.

I want to work in a public space, but I get distracted. I see a lot of movement and I feel like I’m being watched. Especially the movements I can hardly perceive, from the corners of my eyes and behind my back, distract me. It makes me nervous. I can’t concentrate.

My workspace surrounds me, covering my back and sides. It is open to the top and front, so sunlight can enter, and I can orient myself while observing the environment. Even encounters from the front are possible. I feel sheltered by the shape of my workspace.

Being in the public means to be seen by people. I design my appearance, which I can use to my advantage. I can hide myself by being super visual. My workspace attracts attention by its material. It looks beautiful and interacts with its surroundings. People become curios about the golden object, not about me and my work. The whole workspace is made of only one material: rescue blankets. Heating and deformation have given them their shape and stability. Thanks to the flexibility and light weight of the blankets I can role it up and leave for a new place, whenever I want to.

My workspace keeps me warm and safe. It reflects its surroundings in a beautiful, golden way. I benefit from the inspiration of the public space and can fully focus on the work I do.

A work space without traditional furniture sounds futuristic. It raises questions of what users really need for their work, especially in public space. Possibilities come out as technology boosts working efficiency, eliminating geographical and facilities limitations. The following series of illustrations contains the questions and challenges of how technologies enter our lives in future. In order to determine the future scenarios, it is essential to look at both past and present issues. By interweaving the daily problems and future inventions, the stories arouse readers’ ecos and invite them to take a glimpse of the future work life.

Thinking about the long term futures is no longer the patent of futurologists. As there is a saying from William Gibson, “The future is already here – it’s just not very evenly distributed.” Starting from our daily work life, we predict the weather, the schedule, the dating partner, the holiday destination, etc. These are all tangible and accessible futures. I believe everyone can be their own future inventor, classifying their own perspective and value judgement.

After months of isolation, try to create your safe space in public. What do you need to be able to be productive? How are you able to focus on your work? What is needed to make you feel safe and comfortable?

Columns provide a certain kind of shelter and support, mentally and physically. Their base provides support for your back when you lean against them and offers you shade and protection. Like the eye of a storm, the column provides a safe anchor for you to focus on your work and the world around you fades away. Around that anchor, the biggest work desk evolves around you: the floor.

Roman and greek columns were divided and built on the base of human proportions. Nevertheless, the focus stayed on the capital, leaving function behind and simply focussing on the aesthetics. Turning the column upside-down, one is able to use the stylistic extension and expand it to an object with a function: supporting your back while sitting on the floor.

Combining the task of the base - connecting floor and wall/column - with an ergonomic, dynamic and abstract approach evolves into a family of new column bases, giving a social and inviting dimension to the architectural element you usually just pass by. Plaster imprints of the spine in different positions were taken onto a variety of materials in order to create different sitting opportunities, enabling you to work more comfortable, embraced and protected by the imprint of your own body.

We see the urban cities. Experience them and interact with them in different ways depending on the space and how we see the world. A public space with benches can become a skatepark for skateboarders. A fountain can become a pool for kids. Colored tiles on the ground can become small islands you can stand or jump on because the rest of the world is experienced as lava. Our imagination creates our worlds. It makes us able to use the public spaces differently than how developers of public spaces intended it to be used.

Nevertheless public spaces are crowded with people. People walking, talking, biking and driving distract you from actually seeing how public spaces can be used. It can feel overwhelming and make it challenging to stay focused and getting inspired while working in a public space because of all the movement you are surrounded by.

The Urban Observatory is an object that can inspire your work. By sitting and working high up you are able to observe how people interact differently in different spaces. It’s a flexible chair that can be attached to your bike, as well as to spaces you feel inspired by. Easily attachable hooks make it possible to use fences, normally used to gain distance horizontally as a workspace base. Placing The Urban Observatory in the heights creates a vertical distance from the overwhelming movement that is happening on the ground level and allows you to get a calmer and more controlled overview of your surroundings.

I investigated the subject of writing as a medium to define my working space. I went back to the roots of my working method, where everything begins. It is the way I build my personal space, the way I process myself. My emotions, my memories. It is my method to visualize, to process different events and my way of communicating with others.

I write to organize my thoughts and to process my research and my intentions. Isn’t the mental space as valuable as a physical space, or even more? Isn’t it the space where everything comes from and without which nothing would exist?

I create different rooms that are not physical, but as real as concrete spaces. From an intimate process, a text that stays on a piece of paper, I investigated how to make it public. By involving other people in my process, I organized collective writings that can be read publicly. I have used textiles as a tool for the beginning of a research that aims to create a wearable text. A wearable piece, so that once worn, everyone can access it.

Ephemeral Territory deals with the act of claiming and marking personal territory within public space and how the passage of time influences my work(-space).

I have this natural desire for territory. To claim a space as my own and to create a space, specifically for me and all my belongings. While this provides me with a certain amount of comfort and safety, I simultaneously seek discomfort. This I experience by working under time pressure in open spaces, fully exposed to being observed by others. Here, in this balancing act of comfort and discomfort, I thrive.

I discovered that the ideal size for this personal territory is based on the length of my arm span. To mark this space and to keep others from stepping on and into it, I need to create a visual boundary line between the public and myself. I decided to work with foam bubbles. Due to their fragility, once they’re stepped on, they break. I can also constantly modify the consistency and appearance of these bubbles, remaining free to adapt the exact shape of my space. Bubbles are ephemeral: slowly popping until they completely dissolve. I make use of this impermanence to visualise and track the passage of time.

The moment I begin the meditative act of spreading the foam around myself, I tip off the hourglass. As the foam disappears, so does the time I get to call this piece of public space my own: Ephemeral territory.

When working in public areas, the needs for a proper working place always change. In an unfamiliar place, feeling safe becomes the main point. However, in a quiet and blocked place, the feeling of isolation becomes a new matter. On the other hand, in a crowded place, the feeling of being observed becomes a disturbing point.

Depending on the feeling to the external stimulus, we change the level of our sensitivity and perspective. In this project, this changeable attitude to different circumstances was reflected as a changeable working place.

Inspired by animals who can change their skin for being hidden or noticeable, the surface of the space becomes adjustable and flexible. These color-changing animals basically adjust the density of skin cells to change the color. Chameleon has nano scaled crystals on the skin. Arranging crystals differently, they adjust the reflection of light and make different colors.

The interactions between the external circumstance and our sensual reaction are translated into the reaction of the changeable surface of the workplace. When more connection is needed, a working place can be open to reveal inside. In the opposite status, it becomes shrank and close to hide inside.

A City Adaptor is a project providing space for migration fishes to path through the urban settings. Although Salmon is the main fish for this project, other fishes can also benefit from it. By providing a curvy path inside the straight canals, there is a suitable corridor for fish to travel up or downstream beside ships and boats on the canal. There are also different stations among the canal designated and designed for fishes to have a bigger space for resting and continuing the journey.

The idea is to improve existing structures by adding the adaptor in order to minimize the costs and quick realization of adjusting plus sharing the river for both human activities and fish.

By locating some of the stations inside cities on the riverside we adopt our urban setting for fishes and supporting wildlife inside humans horizon. There are a few other steps that need to be done before implementing a City Adaptor such as, cleaning the River or Canal, preventing urban and industrial sewage and contamination from being released into the water, implanting more trees on the river/canal side, and controlling strictly sport fishing.

City Adaptor will also provide space for other non-humans and each will be a small ecosystem for itself.

Birds are one of the most common animals we see every day and also extremely important for the whole ecosystem. Humans mostly love them, but we don't see them as equal inhabitants of the city which results in deprivation of their needs and many survival issues. In this project I wanted to face one of their biggest problems - deforestation and urbanisation - which causes loss of suitable habitat. Connected with that, noise pollution is one huge problem that is mostly not known and it impacts their communication, which is important for everyday life and survival.

“Encountering change“ is a speculative project that proposes an inclusive holistic landscape for multispecies expression. The inspiration for the design came from how birds build their nests, change their natural environment and interact in the space as well as how their habitat is designed by nature itself - fractals units. The project is an open source design where humans are encouraged to make the units by themselves and create a shared habitat. Units - which are made out of loam “clay, sand & straw” - you can stack and create variety of shapes and usage scenarios - everyday activities, shelter, food, water and nesting habitat. Loam consists out of local natural materials that are available for birds as well as humans and it's a great sound absorbing material that can help to reduce noise in their habitat. With time the habitat changes - birds can adapt the shape to their needs as well as natural conditions will bring moss and lichen which are bird nesting materials. Growing plants together with other elements are creating an urban jungle habitat and inviting a variety of species - birds, bees, insects and more. For experimentation, the chosen location was my balcony with a view on gardens of neighbours with a lot of bird species who I could encounter every day.

ex-Ex is a virtual, mobile library for experiencing and archiving extinction stories. Have you heard about the dissapearence of the Lake Pedder earthworm or the last member of the unique 'Bo tribe on India's Andaman Islands?

If not yet, look out for colourful cobblestones on the streets. Behind each colour and stone is a story to collect. Open your phone's camera, scan, and save it to your library. In the ex-Ex app, you'll also find a map of your city that shows you where to find extinction stories and gives an if you happen to be near an extinction story.

According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), about 800 extinctions have been documented in the last 400 years. By knowing about the species that have disappeared (or miracolously rediscovered), they can be anchored in our collective memory and become substantial again.

Imagine you live in a city and wake up in the middle of the night. You get up and take a look out of the window. You see busy streets, but there are no humans. The mammals you are watching are raccoons, running and climbing around on their search for food. In the evening they come out of their shelter which are spread in the city, on big trees, on top of roofs, and inside the facades. They check the organic trash cans which have small openings for them to enter and cross streets using bridges that are installed for them to avoid accidents. When the morning rises they go back into their shelter to sleep, leaving the city to the humans.

The city for human and raccoon is a design proposal that is based on the fact that cities are not only a habitat for human but also for a rising number of other species, who adapted to the new environment. In many cases, such as the raccoon, humans spend a lot of energy and money to keep them away. But these animals and evolution keep on adapting to the new challenges. Therefore I propose to rather use this energy to create a city where we can coexist with the raccoon in an accepting manner. When we include the needs of the animals from the first moment, a new way of inclusive city design evolves. Out of this a more healthy and sustainable, nature and human based city, results.

Sloths, the animals which smile constantly on their face, are most commonly used for selfies or direct contact activities with visitors in zoos. The heartbreaking truth is - they keep smiling even when they are experiencing pain, stress, or anxiety. This project aims to address the spacing mechanism between humans and sloths, by creating a new encounter in both forest and urban. As sloths usually hang upside down in the canopy part of the rainforest, I designed an organic climbing structure which intersects with the trees. By exploring the rainforest with a sloth perspective, directly having contact with the sloth no longer matters. Visitors can enjoy the connection with sloths in the same enclosure.

On the other hand, sloths often attempt to navigate the disturbed areas in urban areas since deforestation nibbles their habitat away. It takes sloths an extremely long time to cross the highway with climbing power lines and half of them died because of electrocution. This is obviously our responsibility to reconnect their scattered habitats. With research of sloth’s habit and materials, the urban eco-bridge is made from rope. Structure is formed by simple knot techniques which allows sloths crossing the bridge with their long arms. By connecting the design concept with local villagers, bridges can be produced by their own craftsmanship. After the implementation of eco-bridges on highways, I believe both drivers and tourists’ awareness of how to handle sloth encounters can be improved. Let’s rebuild our relationship with sloths.

Talking trees//Torenstraat is a speculative approach on imagi- ning a tree centered city in which humans and trees can co-exist equally. Like at most other places in urban environments, trees at Torens- traat are forced in our environment and don’t get provided the space they need. Meanwhile there is a huge network of inter- vening roots and mycelium working underground, expanding much further and being more alive than we would have ever thought. Within our covered and compacted ground though, it doesn’t function properly anymore. The roots have a hard time to find nutrients, water or each other.

Talking trees//Torenstraat proposes a spatial concept in which humans - not trees limit their spatial usage. Though speculative mapping of the root systems, evolving water intake and commu- nication areas, a new distribution of space evolved.

Small floating Islands and paths on stilts made from permeable grid shape the new human environment. Paths and platforms are only existing where they are necessary, turning the currently existing pattern of spatial usage around down. Without asphalt covering the square, nature can expand free- ly. New, nutritious layers of humus can evolve, offspring can finally sprout next to their mother-trees and water can reach the roots tips - at the right places. Implemented mycelium and indigenous plants enrich the ground with nutrients, making the whole community stronger. A watering system for dry seasons gets implemented, saving accumulating water from the roofs in a cistern and guiding it to the right places when needed. The fountain system educates people on where the trees need water the most and can be transferred onto other locations.To make the trees complex communication system tangible for humans, two islands of communication are positioned right on top of the hidden ones underground.

The zoo is a capitalistic concept we humans attend to for seeing wild animals. It is a park displaying wild animals in enclosures or cages. The concept allowes humans to be educated about the animals by seeing how they act and behave inside their habitats. Looking at wild animals can be pleasing and fun for the visitors but its capitalistic approach can be challenging for the well-being of the animal.

An example is the Meerkat. A popular zoo animal, taken out of its original environment from the Kalahari desert, to be displayed in a recreated enclosure. Research has proven that meerkats are vulnerable to stress. Placing them in a to small enclosure, in small groups, being exposed in front of a high amount of visitors results in high level of stress. Which makes the captivation of the meerkat in the zoo challenging. The more visitors, the better it is for the zoo, but the worse it is for the meerkat. Which is why we need to rethink the zoo. Animals who suffers from the zoo’ capitalistic approach should not be taken out of their environment for the purpose of being displayed in front of humans. How can a zoo without animals still educate visitors?

The Zoolitude park aims to solve this. Combining the words Zoo with solitude. Solitude is defined as «uninhabitated place», in this case, uninhabited by animals. The concept aims to put its visitors into the mind of another species to emphasize how animals lives and what their needs are to survive in the wild. Through these experiences, the visitors can develop an empathic connection and an educational understanding of the animal without them being harmed. A healthy environment for both human and animal.

HOW CAN A ZOOLITUDE PARK EDUCATE ITS VISITORS ABOUT MEERKAT?

I believe us humans long for touch - to find the comfort, warmth and safety of a loving embrace. The kangaroo pouch is a space that offers this to the joey. What if we as humans could experience such a pouch ourselves? „Pouched“ seeks to be an answer to this question.

Inspired by qualities of the kangaroo pouch and based on shared needs between joey and human, the pouch was deconstructed and now comes together in a new, human-scale shape. The space was created by abstracting and translating, what I found to be core characteristics of the pouch into a new spatial form.

The shape is organic, flexible and moldable, allowing for the pouch to grow and shrink again. When it’s empty it blends in with the surrounding, when it’s filled, it is in constant movement, clearly indicating its occupation to the outside. On the inside, feelings of warmth and embrace are achieved through soft materials with diverse sensory qualities. Various filling materials, shaped like organs, add depth and make the space come alive. This in-between stage, this place of growth, is a bridge into the outside world. Which is why „Pouched“ is positioned at the intersection of in-, and out- side, between structural elements, such as columns or facades.

Through the deconstruction and recontextualisation, the pouch becomes more than just a space to experience warmth and comfort. It opens up new conversations and becomes a tool for many different purposes and contexts.

Animals in the city
Over the past hundreds of years, humans have been constantly estranged from wild animals.
When we think about primitive ages, humans were a part of the middle of the food chain.
With the development of science and society, however, now humans become at the top of the food chain and rarely encounter alive animals in the cities.
Excepting some domesticated animals, there is no chance to encounter wild animals in daily life, and between human and wild animals, borderline is becoming more and more clear.

Current relationship between humans and animals. Although humans don’t encounter wild animals in real life, they are still curious about those unfamiliar creatures. To get acquainted with wild animals, as Jennifer Wolch mentioned in her article titled ‘Zoopolis’, humans try searching on the internet, reading books, or visiting the ‘zoo’.

In the digital area, specifically, numerous images and videos of animals are easily accessed with just a few clicks. Films, animations, documentaries deliver the information about animals. In this current urban society, people usually meet animals through 'media' or some other interpreted contents by humans.

On media, the information is usually translated in human's logic, language and morals. With humans' standpoints, animals sometimes are judged as wrong or more worthy. This prejudice and favoritism show the humans' attitude to animals: anthropocentricism.

On this context, the concept of zoo is extended from physical captivity to the concept as consumed images of animals in human-centric media. This filtered information and prejudiced perspectives on the nature distort humans' angles about whole nature including human itself.

From this viewpoint, this project will reconsider the angle that humans see wild animals through. Inviting ‘penguins’ as the main topic, which is popular in media but live most far away from human’s daily life, this project will re-diagnose the relationship between humans and animals formed by ‘media. In this process, a new attitudes to animals for ‘renatured cities,’ insisted by Jennifer Wolch, will be proposed.

Energy is a complex and abstract topic not only for designers but almost for everyone else except for those who deal with energy on different levels. For our pioneer community village at Pampus, providing energy is necessary. Key facts such as sustainability and site-specific energy harnessing stations took main roles in creating initial ideas.

The energy on board is divided into two parts, the first one is a personal waist energy gear with a wind turbine helmet and, the second part includes various modular energy harvesting stations. Primary depicts the intentions of having awareness towards the possible energy around us and made by our body movements. Harnessing wind and solar energy besides magnetic and mechanical stress is made by our body's movements and heat. How much energy do we produce by ourselves meanwhile walking, working, or doing sport? this waist jacket describes the possibility of being energy independent or a utopian human power plant idea.

Latter, depending on the potential of each area, in this case, Pampus, different smaller-scale power plants are designed to produce energy by Solar Panels, wind turbines, and geothermal power plants for domestic or small-scale usage besides, energy transforming stations. A key element of these objects is their movability of them. They can be moved to different areas during different times of the year.

The main goal of Energy on board shares the idea of modularity and accessibility for everyone by increasing our awareness of our energy consumption. It also presents the idea of decentralization of energy suppliers and removing go-betweens, supporting more direct usage of energy, cutting unnecessary transforming costs, and debarring extra consuming and wasting of energy.

The sound installation offers a place to listen to the acoustics of soil ecosystems. The intensity of the acoustics is directly related to the biodiversity of the soil and the composition of the living organisms in the soil. The processes that create fertile soils can take centuries. But the world is ploughing up this resource at an alarming rate. Erosion, compaction, nutrient imbalance, pollution, acidification, waterlogging, loss of soil biodiversity and increasing salinisation have adversely affected soil worldwide and its soil's ability to nourish plants and thus grow crops. The soil is falling silent and we have not even begun to listen. What does the soil sound like on Almere Pampus? The pioneers take on the role of composers and use various soil microphones to compose a piece of music that can be heard in the sound hall. Depending on how the pioneers sound the floor the ground in Almere Pampus, this will also be reflected in the acoustics.

The Seasonal house adapts to our specific seasonal needs. The change of temperature, daylight and weather conditions effect plants, wildlife and also us humans in behaviour and activeness. Most houses are fixed in structure, shape and function as they are optimized for winter. But what about the other seasons we experience in the Northern Hampshire? The seasonal house with its flexible structure is inspired by half-timbered houses. The movable functions enable to adaption to the different climatical situations we experience. While everything comes together under the roof in winter, in the warmer month of the year it opens up and the objects of our daily routines, like kitchen, bed and shower can flexibly be moved into the different areas of the garden. Our radius of activity grows naturally and so the whole garden becomes the house. Reusing, recycling and learning from nature are the core ideas of permaculture. The elements of the house melt into the gardens circular systems. One example are the straw walls which keep the house warm in winter, turn into flower beds in summer and become nitrous soil for the field after composting. With the seasonal house the borders between inside and outside vanish. Thereby we are more aware of seasons and our dependency on climate and nature, again. Moreover we can follow our intuitive behaviours as the house adapts to our personal seasonal needs.

As a local material supplier in our pioneer village, I felt the scarcity of resources in Almere Pampus during my site visit. It is an undeveloped area with lots of potential if we get prepared to set up our living. Thus, a scheduled timeline is designed - starting with building live-work warehouse, growing and harvesting, communal life and open to public in the final stage. During the research stage of the project, I started to investigare the raw materials and manufacturing process of the daily products, such as cutlery, trousers, bricks, etc. By understanding the types of raw materials, a growing plan is suggested according to the four seasons. Growing local materials can create a sense of belonging to our villagers. The collective planting and constructing works could bring villagers closer.

The live-work warehouse will be the place that villagers meet together before they start building their own plot. There will be communal space and temporary living space. A small mushroom farm is included because the warehouse will mainly produce and promote using mycelium as building materials. Mycelium is a a biodegradable fungal material, which can applied on a wide variety of aspect likes products, building, or clothing. It is light, fire-resistant, and keeps growing. Though the model testings with mycelium, I discovered the beauty and possibilities of mycelium in different form. To provoke the attention on this biodegradable material in the village, a mycelium facade panel with Almere Pampus pattern is designed. It is time to strat applying sustainable materials together for our next genertation.

to us, you are endless
we are so wrong
we take you for granted
and after being with you, we sometimes forget that we interacted with each other

our relationship is difficult
we need you, but you don’t need us
yet, we force you to be there for us all the time

without paying attention
to you when you are there running, seemingly endlessly

we push you in shape
tell you where and when to flow for us

we want absolute control and endless amounts but we don’t want to spend time with you
the cycle we created for you takes place without us while we are the ones benefitting from it

what if we disrupt the cycle we created?
what if we fill the evolving gap with ourselves?
what are the consequences of replacing object through subject?

anonymity becomes intimacy
isolation becomes connection
subconsciousness becomes consciousness
indifference becomes care

we walk with each other we walk with the water
handle with care
on the value of water

Handle with care brings you closer to the element keeping you alive. It is a mixture of garment, accessory and object, enabling you to carry your daily amount of water from a collective source to your home. The structure is portable in endless ways, guaranteeing maximum flexibility. The transparent, flexible material makes you feel the waters movement while you walk, bringing you closer to the element. In this speculative approach, the ancient ritual of fetching water comes back in a contemporary way, making the now anonymous interaction with water intimate and collective again. This way, a subconscious habit changes into a daily ritual.

Together with 15 students, we are going to develop a self-sufficient eco-village in Pampus, Almere. Each and everyone have been provided a role that serves a function for the development of the new land. I was chosen as the physical healthcarer in the village. As a physical healthcare I value the physical and psychological health of the habitants and I believe their well-being is important for growing a community. My motivation for my role as sa physical healthcare derived from how children are able to grow a healthy community through play inside the playgroound. Their motivation to play is how they are able to be establish new friendships and from there grow a physical and socially healthy community inside the playground. Normally a playground is designed for children but seeing the social and physical benefits they extract from play made me curious to how we can establish a play- culture inside the village for the development of a healthy community.

Which is what my project is about. Playfulnest is the infrastructure surrounding the local source of water in Pampus. The concept aims to challenge visitors creative mindsets on how to use our infrastructure in a playful way, alone or together. Using the infrastructural inspiration from a maze and adding a landscape of basic geometric shapes both encourage and challenge the way we can take advantage of the affordances elements provides in our immediate surroundings in order to reach the water supplier in the center . The infrastructure can create an enjoyable and unexpected journey for the visitors and encourage them to play. Not knowing where you are, how long it will take you from A to B and with who you will meet. This can help fostering unexpected meeting points for the habitants in which they can develop friendships deriving from a physical active play culture. Meaning that the friendships one can develop through play, can create a socially and physically healthy community for all the people living inside the village. Resulting in a healthy environment for the individual and the community.

Food and the environment are to be considered in reciprocal relation. Designing the space of the food, the plate, the table, the room where you eat, and the gestures of eating is relevant to bringing people together. Food ceremonial should be celebrated daily instead of spending one’s meals in front of a telephone or television. Eating is a moment of meeting, and therefore dedicated to the conversation: you get to know others and tell each other. The aspect of communication and gestures linked to food is therefore fundamental for socializing. Cooking and eating are part of entertainment and company dynamics. Therefore how we design the space and the utensils related to food, also determines how we will move around the table, the kitchen counter, and how we interact with diners. Our body and our movements are not separated from food. Comm.on tabel aims to become a daily ritual, a common language within a shared kitchen. With comm.ontable, I aim to offer a way of bringing all the functions related to food preparation together in a single building system such as the table, eliminating spatially the division between who is cooking and who is eating. The aim of bringing people together is to generate a relation, if not physical at least social, a common table where to share tools and furnitures, to cook and eat together, to talk and tell a story. A shared spatial experience.

Crying is a release. When you cry, your tears literally release stress hormones.

Therefore crying can be a very healthy processing tool. Unfortunately it still is very stigmatised, something we hide and keep to ourselves, when in fact it should be embraced and used as a counselling tool to connect.

„Garden of Tears“ questions the role of feeling, emotions and vulnerability in urban public spaces and rethinks what it would look like if we carved out real space for them. It aims to change the perception of crying as being something merely negative but encourages people to embrace it and invites to experience the positive effects of it through space.

In the „Garden of tears“ a path leads through three different zones that are based on the three tear types the body produces. Each of their unique functions (nourishing, purifying and releasing) has been translated into a spatial experience and ritual. Creating specific places for the community to go to for reflection, processing and feeling.

In their materiality and shape each of the three zones (tear chapel, tear pool and tear path) take inspiration from elements of sacral and public space architecture, as well as the eye anatomy.

Together they compose a beautiful reflective path in the village that leads right through the heart of the village, highlighting the importance of taking time to feel, while becoming a tool that deeply connects people to each other.

People are connected in this common oven area by sharing the warm energy that flows beneath the floor and also from the baking area to the upper parts of the ovens. Each oven has a different multifunction that allows people to share the fire from the oven creating glue moments between people and supporting small bonding moments that can be the foundation for better neighboring.

Inspired by the baking process; bubbles and glued textures from the fermentation process, solidified phase (formulation) in the oven, in the common oven design, I interpreted 'the warmth' as the glue to make the forms of the community and tiny links between different individuals. Like how general warmth helps the fermentation process and how enough fire makes the bread structure and stable during the baking process, I expect people to melt into each other and relationships to mature through brewing, baking, cooking, sharing food and recipes, chatting, drying laundries, and steaming together in the common

What is going on?
Knowing one's strengths and weaknesses gives you a better understanding of yourself and how you best operate. This knowledge is widely known and practiced but why does it not apply to our understanding of food and medicine? Why don't we truly start seeing food as medicine, and not just as a derivative? We as a society have relied a lot on what is told to us by professionals. Their knowledge and dedication to their craft are what have given them an understanding of what is good for us as a society. Or is that what we have been told and led to believe? Big pharma and big businesses have twisted the arm of those whose job it was to protect us. And have made it seem like having basic knowledge of our own bodies, food, or medicine seems like a task best left to professionals.

Troubles I feel like that should not be the case anymore. For the past 50 years so much has changed when it comes to food and medicine. Our knowledge has expanded. Now in the year 2022, we have become even more aware of the importance of nutrient- dense foods, and clean foods (as few pesticides as possible). and less high mono-fat foods (sorry french fries) But when it comes to grain and medicine things get a little more complicated. With grain or food in general, quick, fast, and cheap have become what we rely on. Loss of quality is a consequence we accept too easily. While for conventional medicine we rely on stores and hospitals, we forget there are also ways to treat simple things like a belly- or headache. The general decline of knowledge about plants, as well as the disappearance of traditional practices involving these plants, can be blamed on a number of factors. Including the loss of biological resources, and an increasingly globalized society. A lack of cultural support and a desire for modernization in medical practice also have contributed a great deal.

Vision No, it has to stop. I have seen enough, as the farmer for the new Pampus project for Almere. I am willing to look beyond today to find a solution. Herbal medicinal plants have been used in the past. Some of our most used medicines have roots in these practices, for example, paracetamol and morphine. Or the mixture of honey and lemon. A simple concoction is passed down generations. Can we take back control when it comes to medicine? I want everybody to become more involved with what it means to heal oneself. While also gaining knowledge over herbs and nutrition. So they themselves can start healing small ailments without a doctor's help.

The ever-increasing global demand for food and raw materials requires us to embrace fundamentally new tactics and solutions. As an architect, there is a lot that can be done in that field. My design will incorporate the ability to harvest medicinal plants that make Pampus an additional source in the herbal field. This will be done by creating a space where we can learn how to grow and harvest special herbs and learn how to make simple medicinal mixtures. A great learning source for adults and especially children. The curiosity of a child would be nurtured, with learning and testing fields in and around the building. Planting, growing harvesting, testing, and creating are all within reach. The building is knitted into the fabric of the landscape, it makes visitors feel free to challenge themself with various projects within a safe environment. Imagine collecting flowers and small plants that work in turn to make us more healthy. Imagine instead of going to the pharmacy for even the smallest ailments, you enter the Pampus garden to harvest or brew the 'solution'. The building with its ability to interact with nature becomes the perfect place for this experiment.

Having some knowledge in the botanical medical field would mean freedom. Not only for inhabitants of the isolated Pampus project. But it could become the building blocks for creating a stronger society. People are getting more advance in their day-to-day lives. Becoming more self-reliant. Having individual knowledge for healing and repairing our own bodies should be part of that.

Read the Manifesto

BETWEEN FACE AND REFLECTION
Water; transparent, flowing, uncomplicated, life and tranquility. No color, no smell, no taste; neutral. The pure and natural liquid. A lake, in the middle of the forest, the sound of birds and crickets, a slightly undulating movement in the water with the glare of the sun. A moment of joy, of delight and awareness of every natural element around you.
In this place there is no noise from the city traffic, no horns and no ticking of a pedestrian traffic light. Here, at the moment of the sunset. The sunset, the moment of the day when you know that your working day is over and that you can relax for a while before the sun rises again the next day. The sunset, the colors in the sky that change every minute, the colors that are different in the east than in the west. The colors that make you realize for a moment that whatever you do, the sun still rises every day and sets at the end. Every day again.


As the waterfarmer in the pioneers village Almere-Pampus, I believe in the importance of a place where you can put your mind to rest for a moment. There are no boundaries between the building and nature while you’re walking through the pavilion. You’re caught up in the moment and forget all your worries for a while. In here, you can experience water on three levels; above, on and under water. You can walk on a platform path on water, you can walk under water through a tunnel, and you can walk up the roof to go fishing.

This is the way to provide an important, inexhaustible food source in the Pampus community. I want to prevent the product from first having to travel to and from the other side of the world to be packaged. The fish remains fresh, remains locally produced and consumed and is not packaged in plastic, but in a piece of recycled paper.

I desire that Pampus will be an example for new places emerging, where there is not only taken from nature, but also given back.

De mens ís natuur

De natuur op onze planeet is van zichzelf circulair: zij is een oneindigheid van bouwstoffen, afbreuk en hergebruik. Het ene organisme leeft, gaat dood en is weer voedsel voor het andere. Wij als mens hebben iets te veel zelfgenoegzaamheid ontwikkeld waardoor we zijn gaan denken dat we boven deze cyclus staan. De vele producten en grondstoffen die wij gebruiken in ons dagelijkse leven komen op de afvalberg en worden weggestopt of verbrand. Deze gedachte zorgt voor talloze problemen die nu op aarde ontstaan: te hoge CO2 en daarmee opwarming van de aarde, te veel stikstof in de lucht wat de groei van planten verstoord. Dit resulteert in het uitsterven van ecosystemen, groepen insecten en diersoorten. En dat terwijl we alles aan de natuur te danken hebben. Als mensheid moeten we werken met grondstoffen die we kunnen hergebruiken, want als wij het ecosysteem in de steek laten, laat zij het ons ook.

Onze commune op Almere Pampus dient als doel een voorbeeld te zijn hoe je als groep samen werkt in harmonie met de natuur. We leveren elkaar producten, energie, voedsel, water en bouwmateriaal. En we leveren elkaar afvalstoffen, die weer als bouwstoffen fungeren voor de ander. Zo creëren we samen een circulaire economie. In mijn rol stel ik een houtwerkplaats beschikbaar aan de commune en beheer ik een opslag voor materialen. Mijn focus ligt daarin in het kennisdelen van houtbouw.

Hout is een materiaal dat thuishoort in een circulaire economie: het neemt in het groeiproces meer CO2 op dan dat het kost om te bewerken. Dat komt doordat de opgenomen CO2 opgeslagen blijft in het hout wanneer het voor productie gebruikt wordt. Het benadrukken van hout als hoogwaardig bouwmateriaal moet er voor zorgen dat de boom een belangrijkere positie gaat innemen in ons landschap. Productiebossen moeten worden opgeschaald om zo een systeem te creëren waarmee we snel en toekomstbestendig kunnen bouwen. Zo nemen we CO2 uit de lucht en slaan we het op in onze woningen. Reden genoeg om over te stappen op hout, alleen lijkt die overstap in Nederland niet heel vlot te gaan.

Als men aan woningbouw denkt, denkt men aan baksteen. Huizen zijn lange tijd vooral in baksteen gebouwd. Echter hebben de meeste huizen tegenwoordig slechts een bakstenen buitengevel maar zijn constructief met beton in elkaar gezet. Beton is standaard geworden om mee te bouwen: het kan prefab aangeleverd worden en er kan dus in hoog tempo mee gebouwd worden. Het is goedkoop en sterk. Helaas is het probleem met beton dat het tijdens het productieproces een hoge CO2 uitstoot heeft, iets waar we gezien de klimaatcrisis vanaf willen.

Een ander nadeel van beton is dat je het niet meer kan recyclen: de chemische reactie die beton als eindproduct heeft, kan niet ontleed worden. Zo kan je het materiaal niet meer hergebruiken voor dezelfde doeleinden. Wel wordt het gebruikt voor versteviging van een ondergrond. Dit noemen we downcycling, omdat de initiële waarde van de grondstoffen meer waard zijn dan wanneer het als betongravel wordt gebruikt. Beton is daarmee een materiaal dat geen plek heeft in een circulaire economie, het is een eindstation.

Een fabel heerst dat hout niet sterk genoeg zou zijn voor hoogbouw. Echter, ten tijde van het VOC tijdperk werden de grote schepen allemaal van hout gemaakt die stuk voor stuk oceanen over staken. De zandvlaktes van de Veluwe waren tot de zeventiende eeuw grote bossen waar gretig gebruik van werd gemaakt. In die tijd was opnieuw aanplanten van bomen nog geen vanzelfsprekendheid. Grondstoffen in die tijd leken nog oneindig. De bossen slonken en door ontwikkelingen tijdens de industriële revolutie werd er steeds vaker voor andere materialen gekozen zoals staal en beton. Door innovaties kon er veel sneller gebouwd worden met deze materialen. In de afgelopen dertig jaar zijn door robotisering ook innovaties voor houtbouw ontwikkeld waardoor we er de druk- en trekkracht van beton mee kunnen evenaren en we er zelfs nóg sneller mee kunnen bouwen. Hout staat in de startblokken om de wereld te veroveren.

Wanneer ik vertel over bouwen met hout krijg ik vaak een bedenkelijk gezicht; hout lijkt een bouwmateriaal uit het verleden. Het onbegrip voor hout is een hardnekkig verschijnsel. Ontwikkelaars moffelen hun angst om geld te verliezen weg door te zeggen dat het “vast duurder is” en zich er bewust niet over willen informeren. Er heerst angst voor het onbekende omdat er nog maar weinig aannemers zijn met serieuze houtbouw-kennis. Wanneer angst voor het onbekende heerst zal het moeilijk zijn om mensen te overtuigen. Iemand zal de stap moeten nemen en het voorbeeld moeten geven. Wij als pioniers zetten daarom deze moedige stap om te laten zien dat hout bij de toekomst hoort. Circulair is het nieuwe high-tech.