Rising population, expanding opportunities

SH: Switzerland has been growing in population, especially over the past 20 years. In Zurich, for example, we see a lot of construction projects, particularly for schools. The city is building more schools and expanding existing ones to accommodate the increasing number of inhabitants. Zurich’s population is at an all-time high, so there’s a need for more housing, sports facilities, and public infrastructure. This demand naturally leads to more architectural projects—and someone has to carry out all that work.

Switzerland also has a long tradition of what I’d call ‘knowledge migration’. For a long time, innovative and progressive individuals have come here to create, invent, and contribute. It’s part of the cultural fabric. I’m part of that trend myself—I’m not Swiss by birth. I came here after studying in Germany, stayed, and eventually became a Swiss citizen. So yes, this influx of new perspectives often enhances existing ideas or introduces fresh ones. It’s a tradition in Switzerland, partly because it’s a small country with strong agricultural roots in some areas. There’s always been a need to look outward and bring in external intelligence and perspectives.

HZ: I think Switzerland is in the fortunate position of having more demand for work than there are people to fulfil it, including in architecture. In recent years, the building boom has made it relatively easy to find skilled professionals. This need for outside talent, combined with Switzerland's attractiveness—such as good earning potential—draws many people to come here to study or work.

Designing modestly, growing gradually

HZ: I started working as a self-employed architect right after finishing my studies. I began with competitions because I always had the idea of doing my own thing. From the start, I aimed to build my own path, though it was often challenging—sometimes successful, but often not. I managed to keep going by collaborating with a university colleague, although that partnership eventually ended. I then worked independently and pursued further studies in the history and theory of architecture in Zurich, where I met Sebastian.

During those studies, we had weekly seminars focused on theory, which was a refreshing balance to the practical work in my office. At that time, my projects were often small and not particularly exciting, so the academic side became an interesting field for me. It was also fortunate that I met Sebastian, as I never intended to have my own office alone. I was always looking for someone to share ideas and collaborate with.

SH: While studying together, we quickly realised we shared similar interests. For example, during a semester trip to London, we decided to focus on brutalist buildings from the 1960s and 70s and collaborated to create our own itinerary. We did the same in Copenhagen and Malmö, exploring northern modernists like Kay Fisker, Klas Anshelm, and Sigurd Lewerentz. Through seminars and books, we also discovered a shared interest in vernacular architecture and the as-built movement. These shared layers of interest created a strong foundation for collaboration.

Around that time, I became unemployed, and Hannes had a lot of work in his office. I started freelancing for him, and we also began entering competitions together. Eventually, we secured small commissions, such as building conversions and refurbishments.

HZ: As Sebastian mentioned, our shared interests were evident even before we officially worked together. We’ve always been drawn to simple, unpretentious architecture—not the glossy, high-profile projects often seen in magazines. Instead, we focused on overlooked aspects of architecture, like vernacular designs and simple industrial or fabrication buildings.

In 2013, we officially founded our office after receiving a significant commission—a single-family house in Valais. For us, this was a step up from smaller projects like apartment renovations. From the beginning, our clients were not wealthy; we’ve never designed a villa, for example. Instead, we’ve always worked with low-budget projects. That single-family house in the Valais region was our first major commission. It was a modest project on inherited land that wasn’t particularly attractive for development, but the client still wanted to build something. We worked within their limited budget to create the best possible result.

From there, our practice evolved gradually. In the ‘first phase’, we took on more projects in Bern, where I live, while Sebastian remained in Zurich. This led to us having offices in both cities. The projects in Bern often had extremely tight budgets, which aligned with both our goals and the clients’ needs. These projects focused on doing only what was absolutely necessary, which shaped our approach to design.

SH: Our work started to gain attention. Being recognised for that expertise led to a four-year contract with the city of Zurich as contract architects. That was the start of what you might call our ‘second phase’, during which we handled numerous city commissions in the fields of refurbishment, renovation, and heritage-listed buildings.

This contract also gave us the financial stability to grow our office, allowing us to hire employees and operate on a more professional level. In the earlier phase, it was just the two of us, sometimes with an intern. By the end of this second phase, we had moved to a larger scale, which laid the groundwork for the office as it is today.

Elevating Everyday Spaces

SH: The city of Zurich is expanding rapidly, generating a high volume of commissions. For larger projects, the city uses open or selective competition tenders. However, smaller projects—those with budgets of up to two or two and a half million Swiss francs—are managed differently. Due to the administrative burden of tendering each small project individually, the city consolidates them into a four-year framework contract. Through this system, the city maintains a pool of 10 to 12 contract offices, typically a mix of young and small practices. Every three years, the city rotates some of these contracts by issuing new tenders, ensuring fresh ideas and diversity among the selected offices. This approach benefits smaller and emerging firms, providing a pathway to gain experience in public commissions. By involving different offices with diverse approaches, the city maintains a high standard for these smaller projects, not just for the larger, more prestigious commissions.

Despite being contracted by the city, we retained a lot of independence in how we developed each project. Of course, there were budgets and program requirements to follow, and we worked under the guidance of a municipal project manager. However, the actual design and problem-solving were left largely to us, giving us creative freedom.

HZ: If the city managed these projects in-house, the results might lean toward standardisation—every restroom would look the same, and they’d use the same materials everywhere. By outsourcing to independent offices, even small projects feel unique and aren’t pulled from a catalogue. 

SH: For example, we’ve designed two wardrobe buildings for municipal tennis clubs and reorganised the city’s central bus terminal, adding a new building to the site. We also converted a former wardrobe building into a small café and kiosk serving a nearby park. We refurbished the city’s women’s river bath, a 150-year-old structure, and worked on an art space in the former atelier of Hermann Haller, formerly one of the most prominent sculptors in German-speaking Switzerland. On a smaller scale, we renovated roofs for school buildings, showcasing the breadth of work within this budget range.

Finding order in constraints

HZ: My interest has always leaned more toward simple, low-budget houses than extravagant villas. This perspective was central even when we started with private commissions on very limited budgets. These constraints pushed us to find creative solutions, which I think has been invaluable. Now, working for the city, we often face similar limitations. While the budgets aren’t quite as tight as those private projects, they are still modest, and the city is focused on keeping costs as low as possible. Most of the city projects we’ve worked on aren’t representative or grand buildings—they’re infrastructure projects, like toilets or refurbished old structures. These projects aren’t about showcasing architecture but addressing practical needs. When working with the municipality, the process is a bit different from private clients. There are more rules to follow, and the designs are often intended for long-term use. Private clients might be more flexible, even accepting something that lasts only 15 years, but municipal projects demand more durability and forethought.

SH: Working with limited budgets has taught us to think carefully about what we do and act with precision. When you’re constrained like that, you have to reflect deeply and question every decision. It’s not about adding more but about deciding what can be left out. This mindset has become a central theme for us and still informs how we approach projects today.

HZ: Another important aspect is structural order: this is something we always seek in architecture. Even in simple interventions, we strive to establish an order. Much of our work involves dealing with existing buildings, either through transformation or renewal. For us, the goal is always to create something that integrates seamlessly with what’s already there. It’s not about adding something entirely new or unrelated but creating a unity between the old and the new. We want the result to feel like it has always belonged, as though it was meant to be there from the start. There’s a German word, selbstverständlich, that captures this idea—something self-evident, coherent, and fitting. Whether it’s a new design or a renewal, the architecture should feel timeless, as if it had been part of the building all along.

An attentive way of working

HZ: What’s most important is reflecting on how we work together as a team in the office—evaluating our roles, the existing dynamics, and whether things need to be adjusted or changed. While reflecting on the work itself happens day-to-day through design and ongoing processes, this is more about the social aspect of working together. It’s always valuable to see where we stand, where we want to go, and what we might want to change.

SH: Since we’re naturally sceptical people, we tend to question a lot—ourselves, what we do, and what others expect from us. Retreats help us focus that questioning and scepticism productively. We take stock of where we are, decide where we want to go and figure out how to move forward from our current position. Without this, it’s easy to get stuck in production mode, losing track of whether you’re heading in the right direction.

HZ: We’ve noticed that as we’ve taken on more projects and employees, our roles have shifted. In the beginning, when it was just the two of us, we worked on the same projects. But now, with employees and multiple projects, we realised there wasn’t enough time to communicate properly with our team or maintain a clear overview of what’s happening in the office. That was stressful and something we wanted to change. Now, our focus has shifted. Instead of working on individual projects ourselves, our role is to oversee everything, ensuring we’re providing input where it’s needed most.

SH: It’s about guiding everything in the direction we want and ensuring that nothing is overlooked just because we didn’t have the time or attention to address it.