From crisis to opportunities

CG: When we opened our office, it was during the economic crisis triggered by the subprime mortgage collapse. It was probably the worst time to start an architecture firm, especially as young architects working on public projects. The generation before us was still operating within the traditional public domain, focusing on public issues and competitions. But with the emergence of refurbishment projects, especially in areas previously overlooked by architecture—such as suburban and rural regions near France—the perspective of young architects in Paris started to shift.

We set up our office with small public commissions, not competitions. These ordinary projects, sometimes in unattractive or neglected territories, enabled us to work on designs that were modest but fully integrated into their economic, social and heritage context. Our approach was based on collaboration, working with clients in a way that allowed us to shape the projects with skills and tools that ultimately guided our working methodology. 

This change in our attitude also reflected a broader shift in the architectural paradigm, particularly for our generation in France. A few generations before us, architecture was more focused on spatial and decorative aspects—symbolic, even iconic. The generation immediately before ours leaned towards simplification, returning to architectural fundamentals, often with an emphasis on reduction rather than addition—both in material and theoretical terms. But our generation is facing a ‘poly-crisis’, where multiple challenges—economic, environmental, and social—demand new approaches. We must rethink energy consumption, cost control, and broader societal impacts. The way architecture was conceived and built in the past is no longer viable. These concerns became central to our office in Paris, which has grown significantly because of them.

The weight of architecture

NL: Our first project was actually a demolition. We were tasked with tearing down a massive villa owned by a Sheikh from the Emirates near Disneyland Paris. It was too big to be sold and completely unusable. The land had to be divided and resold. For us, this felt like a violent act, and it made us question our practice.

CG: That first project felt kind of like a loss. But it also taught us something important: architecture implies a certain violence—not just conceptually but physically. Managing materials, moving them from one place to another—architecture is ultimately tied to production systems and economic structures. Before this, we had thought of economics in architecture as just value engineering, a tool to meet a client's budget. But we came to understand that it's much more than that. The real question became: how can we integrate architecture into a process that considers not just materials but the entire production chain? This opened up a whole new way of thinking about our work.

Over the years, working on projects of different sizes shaped our decision to focus on public projects. We never set out to create a ‘fashionable’ firm or specialise in a specific type of project. Instead, we were drawn to the public realm because of its broad societal impact. This principle has remained central to our office ever since.

Architecture is becoming increasingly specialised, but we took the opposite approach—we believe architects should engage with everything to truly address society as a whole. After this first demolition project, we worked mainly on public projects. Our first real commission was a small restaurant and coffee shop in a rural town outside Paris. This project introduced a new way of working, where public projects weren’t just theoretical exercises. We collaborated directly with local officials and residents, developing a methodology that remains at the core of our practice.

Architecture as a result of economic systems

CG: Before we could even talk about architecture, we had to understand how the economy functioned within our projects. This clarity allowed us to communicate better with our clients. It took us a few years to fully grasp how architecture has been influenced by financial systems. Since the 1980s, architecture has become increasingly tied to financial markets, treated as a product with speculative value rather than a social good. This shift had profound consequences. In the past, architecture offices were multidisciplinary, including not just architects but engineers, cost surveyors, and urban planners. The profession was about integrating different expertise into a cohesive whole. But over time, many of these roles were stripped away, leaving architects focused primarily on conceptual design—abstract ideas rather than tangible, built realities.

This disconnect has been a loss rather than a gain. Architecture is deeply embedded in economic systems because buildings are created with materials that exist within supply chains and production networks. If architects fail to understand this, they can't truly engage with the forces shaping the built environment. We see economy not as an engineering concern or a constraint, but as an inherent part of architecture itself. This perspective isn’t new—architects from Alberti and Palladio to Lacaton & Vassal have explored it in different ways. In our research, we’re working on reframing architectural history through the lens of economy, because today, economic language may be the only truly universal language in architecture.

The Zero Economic scenario

CG: We are not a firm defined by a specific building type, scale, or aesthetic language. Instead, we focus on process and methodology. Our starting point is always the economic context rather than formal or phenomenological concerns. Before we even begin designing, we analyse the economic landscape of a site—a process we call the ‘zero economic scenario’. This helps us frame a project within its economic conditions before a single line is drawn. From there, our work is guided by four key principles: the strict minimum, constructive systems, strategy, and materiality. These elements form the structure of our projects, not in terms of stylistic choices but as fundamental design drivers. 

NL: Our first step is to examine all contextual elements—political, economic, and social—to ensure the project aligns with real needs. The zero economic scenario helps us compare programmatic goals with budget constraints, because for us, economy is not an outcome but the foundation of a project. Our office was founded to create an architecture that has social and environmental impact, and this remains at the heart of our work.

CG: Once we define the strict minimum—whether in financial terms, spatial conditions, or programmatic needs—the other principles fall into place. Construction logic is particularly important to us. We don't have a predetermined preference for materials like wood, stone, or concrete. Instead, material choices emerge from an economic inquiry into the local production and supply chain. It’s not just about sustainability, but about understanding the realities of material sourcing and the broader economic structures that shape architecture. We also consider the long-term durability of buildings. In France, insurance policies often dictate a building’s lifespan to be just ten years, but we believe architecture should last far beyond that. Refurbishment has become a major issue, especially in Paris, where space for new construction is extremely limited. This means shifting our perspective—seeing architecture not as a continuous flow of new materials, but as an existing stock of square meters that can be reactivated. This mindset is crucial in today’s context.

NL: We don’t define our work by scale but by methodology. We focus on public and social projects, working on schools, social housing, and urban strategies. It’s not about fitting into a category, but about using architecture as a tool for collective benefit. That’s why we started our office—to create architecture for everyone.

Social consciousness in mind

CG: The question of the social project has always been central to our thinking. From the beginning of our office until now, the social aspect has shaped our approach to projects—not just in terms of program but in a broader sense. Architecture isn’t just about materials; it’s also about movement—how people move from one place to another and how urban strategies can have a profound impact, sometimes even a violent one. Architecture and urbanism are fundamentally about care—care for people, for existing buildings, and for the social fabric they shape.

In the past, public buildings from the 18th and 19th centuries were designed with extraordinary skill and ambition. Today, the process of constructing a museum or a school has become almost trivial. This shift is significant because it levels the playing field in terms of architectural practice. We are interested in how the ordinary is not just an aesthetic concern, but also a reflection of societal evolution. The social question remains a priority in our work. For example, we have designed a day shelter for the unhouse people near La Défense, as well as social housing that helps former homeless individuals reintegrate into society. These types of projects address parts of society that are often overlooked in architectural discourse. However, we do not define our work as social architecture in the sense of participatory or collaborative design. While architecture involves interaction with many people, in the end, we are responsible for making critical design decisions. Architecture cannot be diluted by too many voices, nor can it exist as an isolated theoretical exercise.

Our role is to negotiate between different constraints like a chameleon. In this process, the economy becomes a crucial tool—perhaps the only universally intelligible language in architecture. Understanding this allows us to create meaningful projects that respond to societal needs. Beyond our architectural practice, we also commit to social responsibility. For example, we donate 1% of our annual income to associations focused on the social economy. Architecture can always be improved, but it will never be 100% in harmony with societal and environmental demands. We recognise this and try to contribute in any way we can.

The city, a constantly evolving field

CG: At any given time, we manage around 20 projects, from schematic design and feasibility studies to construction. Around 80–90% of our work is public projects, with only a small percentage being private commissions. Currently, we are building two primary schools, four social collective housing projects, and a cultural centre. We are also working on two sports complex, a public space intervention in Montparnasse, and four large-scale urban strategy projects ranging from one to sixty hectares, all focused on social housing.

In both France and Italy, we have worked on social housing developments that, after 15 years, become critical social challenges. The French cité model illustrates this issue—how housing projects evolve and how they shape learning, work, and social integration. We believe it is essential to rethink urban planning to accommodate diverse programs and prevent social isolation. Additionally, we are working on a refurbishment project that transforms a parking facility into a logistics hub for first-kilometre transport.

Our projects operate within a defined territory. Paris, for example, functions as a bioregion with consistent economic and legal structures. Understanding these dynamics is crucial to our approach. Our work often takes place in suburban areas that lack a clear identity. These spaces are unstable and undefined, and for us, understanding their territorial dynamics is essential. We do not see cities as purely profitable entities; Rather, we view them as complex systems where different scales interact. Working at the intersection of these scales enables us to conceive architecture not as a finished product but as an evolving process.