Architect

I’ve not designed that much for companies, preferring homes, schools and kindergartens. But Namahn is atypical, for what they do and the culture within the company. People stay a long time here and this culture pleased me. There was a feeling of trust between us from the outset, and this is why we’ve continued so long together. Also, it’s never been a question of image or making a statement, nor was there a master plan.

Our ideas grew organically, as new questions like Joannes’ growing passion for photography and dance arrived or new people like the composer Walter Hus. As these things added themselves, it was a question of how they could be connected to the building. Today there are so many different spaces: factory space, office space, and home space. But when we started, none of these were designated. Joannes, the company, the building and I myself have evolved together. We’ve never had only one goal to achieve.

Joannes always said, let’s enjoy the space! Let’s confront people with the space and challenge them. Since 1995, I’ve been working more and more on the idea of public space as an interface between people, across cultures, not belonging to any group, on and how people use public space. Namahn may be a private space, but within these limitations we’ve agreed to introduce a percentage of public space. People can always close the door, but they can also leave it open to others.

Normally I’d be on site, working alongside the workers, finding solutions. With Namahn, I’ve been off site most of the time because I’ve moved to France. So, based on my drawings, my colleagues Francis and Wannes have followed up the project very carefully for me. When you design, you have an image in your head and normally you see it evolve and take shape. With Namahn, I had the image in my head, and then I was presented with the finished result. Very strange!

This is the warm heart of the building and a great example of how ideas grew over time with Namahn: when they first bought the building, I’d never even thought of it. It was while I was looking for a way to heat the mountain refuge I’m making in France that I discovered Ianto Evans, who developed different types of rocket mass heaters. Evans worked for the UN in refugee camps and he claimed that you have to be able to make a stove for $50. He also argued that if you have heat, you should be able to cook on it and sit on it.

We used his principles to develop something in between a kitchen and a stove. It’s the ideal solution for a space that’s too big to heat: it retains the heat for a long time, exactly where you want it. It’s also an economical and ecological way of heating, offering 90% fuel efficiency compared to 10% of an open fire, for example.

We opened up this long space and allowed a lot of light to enter in from above. Under the skylights, a classic modular office ceiling was added where we left gaps that can be opened or closed to control how much light gets in. It’s also an effective and inexpensive acoustical solution. The wall panels are moveable white doors that can be written on as well as concealing what's stored behind them.

For me, they are doors that lead nowhere: they challenge the concept of a design studio as a place where people come to work on ‘projects’, projections of how things will be in the future. The white furniture can be used for sitting on, lying on or standing at. Everything seems flexible, a lot of things can be moved but still the doors will lead nowhere. I also added red and green mirrors at each end of the room. Looking into them simultaneously offers us a glimpse of a three-dimensional but completely inaccessible infinity.