Crossroads of contexts

BN: Nantes, situated on France’s west coast, boasts a dynamic economic and social landscape. With numerous industries in the surrounding countryside and a sizable metropolitan area, we can engage with its vibrant energy while maintaining a strong connection to the rural environment. Also, there is a well-established school of architecture and there are a lot of practices who decide to stay and establish themselves in this region. This creates a good, competitive environment where we push each other to improve. 

SC: The relationship between rural and urban areas was always a key topic when we were studying. Architecture school is deeply connected to the region and its development, considering both the metropolitan area and the surrounding countryside.

BN: As younger and more experienced architects, we have had the opportunity to work in both contexts. We've observed that many municipalities in the countryside often have smaller projects, but despite their scale, they are interesting due to the way they are approached. These projects offer great opportunities for young architects to engage in real interventions—sometimes small, sometimes larger—allowing them to build their portfolios and test new programs. 

The national government provides funding to help municipalities finance their projects. This creates a kind of bottom-up approach, where cities and towns can express their specific needs—whether it's a new workspace, a school extension, or a building renovation. They receive funding and can reflect on these questions themselves, often through a selective competition process. When we enter a competition the selection usually follows what we call an ‘adapted procedure’. The municipality shortlists three to five architects, based on references and administrative files, and we submit an offer—not a design, but a proposal on how we would work with the client, how we understand the context, and our financial proposal. There is often a discussion with the municipality before a final decision is made. The design process begins only after an architect is selected.

SC: This way, municipalities define their own programmes, which is quite interesting for architects because we respond to the area’s real needs rather than following a top-down state directive. This local approach can be very relevant, as it allows users to play an important role in the development of the project. It tends to be a bottom-up process, as municipalities recognise they cannot determine everything on their own and must involve city residents, schoolchildren, and others who are consulted during the design process.

BN: In France, the competition system is quite complex and diverse. On the positive side, we have a phase where we can exchange ideas, discuss the project, and determine if we align with the municipality’s vision. On the downside, financial proposals play a major role in the final decision, which makes things challenging. Even if we have a great conversation and alignment on the project, cost can be the deciding factor.

SC: If your proposal is deemed too expensive, you’re out of the running quickly. And the selection criteria can be rigid—most of the time you’re only allowed to present three to five references, which must match the same program type, budget, and be no older than three years. This makes it difficult for young architects, as they may not yet have projects that fit these exact requirements. 

BN: If you haven't built before, you won’t get the opportunity to build now. That’s why it can be easier for young architects to start with smaller, unconventional projects in rural areas. 

A practice with a regional approach

BN: In 2019, I began this practice with three partners. We had already been working together in this space before deciding to merge and create a structured entity. Initially, it was just a group of friends collaborating, and we decided to give it a name that represented this collective effort. The name is a kind of joke. ‘Claas’ is a brand of agricultural materials in Holland, which refers to our practice in the countryside and its rural aspects. At the same time, ‘Claas’ also refers to Holland, a country known for its great architects, whom we admire. So, for us, the name synthesises rurality and high-quality architecture. The structure of the practice has evolved over time. All my partners left, so I continued the practice alone, and later, Stéphanie, who had been working in this space, joined me in the adventure. It remains a collaborative effort, emphasising teamwork rather than individuals.

My former partners and I initially worked on small projects, such as houses, farms, and small equipment structures. We operated both in metropolitan areas and rural settings, always prioritising a bioclimatic approach and wood construction. This focus shaped our way of designing, considering not only how buildings are constructed but also how people live in them and how they evolve over time. A turning point came when sustainability discussions expanded beyond natural materials to include the social dimension—how citizens could actively participate in the process. Simultaneously, cities like Nantes began reconsidering the need for more sustainable urban development. This shift allowed us to work with larger public and private clients while maintaining our core approach of engaging with inhabitants and integrating sustainability into our projects. Initially, these larger projects were mostly in metropolitan areas, where sustainability concerns were more pressing. However, after a period of urban expansion, we found ourselves returning to smaller rural projects. Gradually, we extended our reach beyond Nantes, working in places like Brest, La Rochelle, and, occasionally, even Paris.

SC: We’ve expanded our range while remaining on the West Coast. We still prioritise travel by train and bicycle whenever possible, considering environmental impact and logistical complexity. While we sometimes explore more far opportunities, such as projects in other regions of France, we remain focused on manageable distances and sustainable practices.

Designing with, not for people

BN: We strive to avoid specialising in a single type of architecture. Instead, we explore diverse programs to challenge our perspectives and remain engaged with contemporary societal issues. One key question is participatory processes: how can people gain agency in shaping their cities? We also emphasise refurbishment as a crucial design strategy. Instead of always constructing new buildings, we look at how existing structures can be adapted and reused.

SC: Participatory projects remain central to our practice, but we constantly apply these methods to different programs and territories. This keeps our work dynamic and allows us to continually reassess our role in shaping the built environment.

BN: Our engagement with participatory processes began organically. Initially, we worked on small housing projects, sometimes for individual families or small groups wanting to build collectively. 

SC: At first, it was just about seizing opportunities to engage in dialogue with clients.

BN: We’ve explored ways to involve people in site selection, building orientation, material choices, and lifestyle considerations. Gradually, this approach has expanded, leading to larger participatory projects. Eventually, metropolitan authorities recognised the value of participatory design, and we began working on publicly funded projects. Over time, we moved from projects for 3–4 families to buildings with 10–20 households, then 60 flats, and beyond. Through this, we realised that participatory design isn’t just about individual homes—it shapes entire neighbourhoods and city life. Many residents are deeply invested in civic engagement and community building, which strengthens our design approach.

SC: Through experience, we’ve refined our methods for communicating with future inhabitants. We organise presentations to explain our past work and the rationale behind material choices, helping build a shared vocabulary. This ensures productive dialogue rather than a one-sided imposition of architectural ideas.

BN: It’s also about transparency—helping residents understand technical constraints, cost implications, and design decisions. We educate them on how to achieve sustainable buildings affordably. Having a clear vision is essential to guiding this collaborative process effectively. We're currently designing a 60-unit housing project, entirely developed through participatory processes. This is significant because private investors are withdrawing from the housing market, making alternative models more crucial. It demonstrates that large-scale participatory housing is possible, even in metropolitan contexts. This project is an opportunity to refine our methods—especially in explaining each step clearly. We’re even developing new tools, almost like games, to help people engage with the design process. The scale is larger, but the core principles remain the same: designing with people rather than for them.

SC: At this scale, we must also rethink common spaces—how different areas function at various scales, from individual stairwells to shared courtyards and broader neighbourhood interactions. I don’t think we’ve ever designed housing, for example, with a common kitchen but no kitchens in the flats. So, we’ve needed to think about the in-between spaces—how you can pass in front of someone without disturbing them, while still encouraging encounters. That’s the challenge of this kind of housing. If you choose to live in one of these buildings, it usually means you share this desire to live together in some way.

BN: We try to break the anonymity of living in a large housing complex. Often, when you rent a flat in a big building, you don’t know your neighbours. Here, you know your neighbours before you even move in. That’s a really interesting approach—how we build the neighbourhood before we build the building. It’s quite different.

The productive landscape

BN: Another central focus in our research is urban food production: how can cities integrate agriculture to create truly productive landscapes? Historically, urban areas included small farms producing vegetables and dairy. As cities expanded, these farms were abandoned, and agriculture was pushed out. Today, as urban growth continues, the focus remains on housing and infrastructure—schools, markets, and sports facilities—without much thought given to food production. For us, this raises important questions: Can we integrate productive landscapes into cities rather than just creating parks? Could we design spaces where vegetables are grown, milk is produced, and seasonal cycles gain importance? These projects have an educational component, reconnecting people with natural rhythms.

SC: Some of our projects focus on actual food production, while others prioritise education. For instance, in Symbiose project, a renovation and elevation of a residential building, we designed a greenhouse on a rooftop, making agricultural production highly visible. In another case, we refurbished an old farm to support urban agriculture, blending the existing structure into the city’s fabric.

BN: It’s fascinating that we’re preserving historic farm buildings, sometimes in the city centre, surrounded by modern housing. In a way, these farms were the first step of urban planning. This theme is gaining traction, with municipalities and state entities becoming increasingly involved. While still a small movement, there’s growing interest in food security and economic resilience through urban agriculture.

SC: Cities recognise the educational and health benefits of these projects, as well as their economic potential. It’s also about future-proofing—ensuring local food production remains viable in urban areas.