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Depth of fields

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Wall of sensations Robert Ireland

The Atelier Bonnet or in praise of the “patient search” Frédéric Frank

“Inhabiting the structural frame”: buildings cast in exposed concrete Jean-Claude Girard

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Unity and complicity

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Inversion and Fold

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Sonik Fox

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005 Stretching and radiating

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Wrapping and interlocking

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Elsewhere and stitched

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Hollow and lift

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Building without stairs

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Cedar and fold

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Optimising – Living

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Founding intimacy Meetings with Mireille and Pierre Bonnet Bruno Marchand

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Guiding the Gaze by the hand Robert Ireland

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Atelier Bonnet Architectes

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Building – garden gallery

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Preface

From wristwatch to pavilion, from street furniture to infrastructure, from landscaping to housing complexes: the body of work designed and built by Pierre and Mireille Bonnet spans a wide range of themes and scales, considered in a spirit of interaction and complicity. As they state in the interview they granted me in this book—in which they reflect on their intimate preoccupations—this complicity enriches their thinking and their understanding of the world at large. While they are deeply attached to the context of Geneva and its architectural landscape, their work remains atypical. This is evident first of all in the way they work and in the sources and references that form the basis of their architectural imaginary. As Robert Ireland points out, in their office the architects have two walls facing each other, filled with images arranged without any apparent logic and which represent a “happy conjunction between architecture and image, space and narration, duration and sequence”. From these “walls of sensations”, which are at once disorganised and evocative, they construct a new gaze—their gaze—on reality, touching both on the intellect and the emotions. Central to the images fuelling their imaginations are the many sketchbooks they have filled with sketches, drawings and watercolours—some of which have been used to illustrate this volume. This material is fundamental to understanding their working methods: indeed, for architects, the drawing can be the open form and the matrix from which a project is developed, a research tool or simply a “freeze frame” of a fleeting and incisive vision experienced during a journey. Atypical also is their attitude to time: taking time to reflect on the questions raised by the project and to let them come to fruition. In this regard, Frédéric Frank invokes the Corbusian term of patient search, which not only implies a certain continuity and perseverance in the themes the architects set themselves, but also presupposes temporalities, sometimes extended ones, in the journey from project design to completion. Pierre and Mireille Bonnet thus grant themselves whatever time they consider essential to producing the quality to which they aspire. Atypical, finally, in the particular conditions involved in producing an exterior exposed concrete that is certainly no longer the same as the one our forebears knew, specifically in terms of its colour and texture. Indeed, the family construction company has built several of the office’s housing projects and as such has participated in constructive choices, in agreement with the architects. Jean-Claude Girard explores the particulars of this system of mutual enrichment in which the use of a given raw material is viewed not only as a construction tool but as a hypothesis for redefining the act of living. These analyses direct our gaze but do not exhaust the subject. “Depth of field”, “Stretched, folded, cast”, “Optimising, living”, “Weaving”, “Small scale” are the terms chosen to organise all the projects and works published in this book. These expressions, often evoked during lectures, are essential to understanding the spirit of the architects’ work. Indeed, for more than 20 years, Pierre and Mireille Bonnet have developed a poetic approach all of their own, in which an understanding of architectural fundamentals and a sensitivity to cultural and artistic phenomena combine with acuity. The ability to do thus resonates with a receptivity to all types of impressions and feelings—those “precise feelings” (as Adolf Loos put it) to which these drawings, photos and texts testify. Bruno Marchand Director of the Archigraphy Lémaniques collection

Wall of sensations

“What moves me then is neither produced by an impressive aspect nor pure geometry, but a thought made manifest. In this respect, yes, we must imagine that, like any work of art worthy of the name, photography thinks and makes us think.” 1 Walls lined with images

In the Atelier Bonnet, two walls of pictures face each other. They are very different in nature and hereafter we will more closely examine one of them, comprised only of photographs. These walls have a prominent presence in Mireille and Pierre Bonnet-Adam’s work space. The haphazard association of hundreds of images obeys a labile, mobile, ever-changing internal logic that is disconcerting for the viewer. The architects need merely reposition, substitute or add images whenever they appear, to intuitively forge new connections, but they may also remove images that are worn out or have served their time. The term “desire line” describes a type of path that is made naturally and anarchically by the users of parks, meadows and squares who refuse to adhere to imposed and designed routes. What we will henceforth refer to as the Atelier Bonnet’s “wall of sensations” invokes the wandering gaze of a moving body making its way among all these photographs so different one from another but whose coherence gradually emerges. “Desire lines” can be traced either through the images themselves or through the network of interstices that separate them. These interstices, as we shall see, are of some importance. The frieze

The “wall of sensations” brings to mind a frieze—even if the term is perhaps not entirely appropriate because the wall is not in itself an ornament—, this happy conjunction between architecture and image, space and narration, duration and sequence. The representational content of a frieze often runs over four walls of a piece of architecture, inside or outside, making it a legible surface and setting bodies in motion. A frieze is not always purely figurative or narrative: it can take the form of entangled vegetation, geometric rhythms, sequences of ornamental patterns, varying according to historical and geographical contexts. The characteristic of the frieze is that, although it functions horizontally, adjusting to the axis of our gaze, it is not a narrative in a temporal sense: there is neither beginning nor end. The gaze can settle upon any part of it randomly, intrigued by such and such a shape, colour or component, then detach itself from it and float off elsewhere. 1

Robert Ireland

Régis Durand, Le regard pensif. Lieux et objets de la photographie (Paris: Editions de la Différence, 1988), p. 11.

In his respect, the frieze recalls the concept of the myth as Claude Lévi-Strauss defined it: 2 a stratification of immemorial layers of converging narratives, featuring variations but no identifiable source. The myth does not have an absolute origin but remains permanent. This is undoubtedly its strength, explaining why we come back to it again and again. Lability

When reflecting on these questions, it would be remiss not to mention the great “psycho-historian” (as he described himself) Aby Warburg,3 who was probably the first to develop an interdisciplinary system of displaying knowledge and its images founded on “sensibility”. This is demonstrated in particular by his Mnemosyne Atlas consisting of wonderful velvet-covered panels on which Warburg pinned various reproductions. The anthracite cloth evokes the dark canvas of the night sky against which the stars appear: throughout history, these lights in the firmament have suggested networks, forms and connections to humankind, as well as mythological or symbolic figures. The methodology instigated by Warburg undermined a model of knowledge that up to then had presented itself as the embodiment of progress, established and immutable. The mobility of the chosen reproductions and the very system by which they are pinned serve to remind us that migration and contamination are always possible, always at work and, above all, never definitive. This Mnemosyne Atlas illustrates the creative force of Warburg’s concept of the “law of the good neighbour”, in which never imagined cohabitations exist in a dynamic that goes beyond pure dialectics. Let us pause for a moment to consider how productive this instrument is for the architects who work at the Atelier Bonnet and look at this “wall of sensations” day after day. For this collection (but can one speak of a collection when it is an open system, without set rules?) is constantly changing: through the addition, reposit ioning or removal of images, but even more so by the gazes brought to bear on it. There is no doubt that, at the right moment, otherwise inconspicuous photographs will emerge into view and recover their force because the architects’ latent thoughts will—unconsciously sometimes—come to settle on them, when they unexpect edly converge with their preoccupations, to draw out their essence. But even more importantly, these “imagethoughts” are crystallisations of the observations, intuitions and lived memories or events they denote.

forms endowed with narratives, or in any event figures that are easily summoned in the mind, man has the particular quality of being able to think in a way that is not only associative and deductive, but also more intuitive; a “savage” thinking. activate the interpretation that the matrix of the system enables and who use it according to their own circumstances and perceptions. In the lecture course he gave at the Collège de France between 1977 and 1978, subsequently published as Le Neutre,5 Roland Barthes evokes the highly intriguing system he used to organise his lectures, rightly regretting that it was not taken up more widely. It was based on a series of file cards (therefore the opposite of book-based narration in which pages are bound, or a linear lecture format), which Barthes then associated according to an arbitrary statistical rule. These thematic file cards 6 then triggered other forms, links, visions and ideas through the chance connections they generated (in the manner of Warburg’s “law of the good neighbour”). In the same period that Barthes was giving these lectures, Deleuze was arguing we should be looking not at things themselves but between them. Yet these interstices call attention to a question that has been overlooked. By drawing lines between the stars to create mythological 2

“A myth always pertains to past events (...) But the intrinsic value attributed to a myth comes from the fact that the events it relates, supposedly taking place at a specific point in time, also form a permanent structure. This structure relates simultaneously to the past, the present and the future.” Claude Lévi-Strauss, Anthropologie structurale, (Paris: Plon, 1974), p. 239. 3

In 1926, in his native Hamburg, Aby Warburg, an art historian specialised in the Florentine Renaissance, embarked on an ambitious new project for which he drew on his personal library of around 60,000 volumes and his collection of nearly 25,000 images. With the intention of creating an image-based comparative art history, Warburg elaborated a system of plates entitled Mnemosyne Atlas in which images from different cultural fields were combined. These plates, as well as the library were saved from Nazism by being moved to London, where they now are held at the Warburg Institute. 4

Summoning

Let us return now to what Warburg “opened up” for contemporary thinking. To simplify, I will refer to this as a “display”. The system is more an organisational principle than a grid, which distinguishes it from a structure. While the system can set out a series of coordinates, it remains open. Obvi ously, when considering the frieze, questions arise as to which direction it is read in since the classic sequence of the diegesis 4 is broken. Thus, it is the viewers who Robert Ireland

Series of details related by narrative discourse, as well as the structure of the narrative itself.

Roland Barthes, The Neutral, Lecture Course at the Collège de France, translated by Rosalind Krauss and Denis Hollier (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007). 5

An example of a sequence generated by these cards: “weariness / silence / tact / sleep / affirmation” (Class of 25 February).

Stances

The “wall of sensations” resonates with another work by Roland Barthes, La Chambre Claire, for the way in which it thematises —through photography 7—the concepts of studium and punctum. The frieze induces this double concept due to its formal properties. First of all the meaning of the studium as an “operative field”, as an undetermined “background” on which there is no particular focal point. It is the field of view, the fullness of scope, all that there is to see. Above all, it is the “atmosphere”, in the sense of the overall, panoptic perception of things. Barthes describes the studium as an “an average affect”, “the application to a thing, the taste for someone, a kind of general, hasty commitment, of course, but without particular acuity.” 8 Following Roland Barthes’ fertile train of thought, the studium can be understood as that which makes us aware of the photographer’s intentions, while transforming our relationship to the image: “Whatever it grants to vision and whatever its manner, a photograph is always invisible: it is not it that we see.” 9 Barthes contrasts the notions of studium and punctum—the latter breaking (or punctuating) the former: the punctum is the link or the point of subjective personal attachment 10 that the photograph brings to the fore. It is the catalyst for that to which photography refers to as a personal experience; the moment, the place and associated affects: a whole series of mini-narratives that for the most part escape the external viewer and are often random. The punctum is what pierces, but also what “points” or “grips”. Thus, the punctum can be understood as the entry point into a story, an instant or a subjective experience. The gaze caught in the studium will inevitably and very quickly—even if it is does not relate to experience—focus on the detail of an image: to take an example, a hand touching a wall. Why is that so? Is it possibly because the viewer rediscovers a sensation of contact that relates to his or her own experience?

their irresolution. They do not, strictly speaking, provide ideas, let alone solutions, but much more in fact: a suspension, a questioning. The “images-thoughts” of the frieze facilitate this singular space of enquiry that opens up new ways of seeing, doing and projecting. Images without captions

A particular feature of the “wall of sensations” is that is does not hold or impose keys to how it is read, references or legends, so much so that this absence nullifies any attempt to recognise and locate the origin of these photographs. As a result, a certain freedom is conferred on the viewer and the images are endowed with a form of universality in the sense that these “shots” are akin to research into the forms of reality. This so-called photographic “shot” can also be understood in the sense of the predator’s capture of its prey. What emerges from this large-scale juxtaposition are ideas and sensations, constructive, architectural, sculptural, but also poetic observations. Scaffoldings

Where photographs are concerned, it is important to address the complex issue of framing. In the midst of this profusion of pictures, a force emerges from the simple—yet simplicity is so dif ficult to achieve—and effective will to frame, to do away with the superfluous in order to express the essence of these photographs by “taking aim” at them as well as possible. In addition to the framing that takes place during the shot, the image is further tightened using a cutter and contracted to its essential point, to break with any imposed standard format. This contraction is reinforced by the relations of promiscuity or proxemia that exist between the images, whether they are touching each other or are a little separated. Proxemia is this natural distance, this bubble surrounding any living individual, a tacit boundary whose crossing threatens integrity, but whose porosity allows for exchange. So, while incisions are made into the out-offrame area due to the proximity of the images, a new 7

One of the two friezes of the Atelier Bonnet is composed only of photographs, while the second, more complex and heterogeneous, also includes drawings, notes, etc.

The thoughtfulness of pictures

Thoughtfulness, a term I borrow from a book by Régis Durand,11 raises the question of the irresolution of images: what do they mean? What purpose do they serve? While this collection of images is a source of inspiration for the architects working between the two walls, it is important not to misunderstand the somewhat distorted meaning of the word “project”, which, although constantly applied in the field of architecture, must be used in a different sense. Images can be a source of inspiration and a driving force behind an architectural project. However, one should not take away their power of immanence and Wall of sensations

Roland Barthes, Camera Lucida: reflections on photography, (New York: Hill and Wang, 1981), p. 26.

Ibidem, p. 6.

“The punctum then is a kind of subtle beyond, as if the image launched desire beyond what it permits us to see”. Ibidem, p. 59. 10

“Photography can be described as pensive insofar as it inspires me to think.”Régis Durand, op. cit., p. 10.

The Atelier Bonnet or in praise of the “patient search”

August 2018. The height of summer. A scorching day, the kind of which are now becoming commonplace in Geneva. A first meeting, on the ground floor of the former Sapos factory. 1 Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet receive me in a generously sized room. Large bay windows open onto a shady courtyard in the back where cars, scooters and bicycles slumber. A few trees have sprung up around the building, and press their foliage against the facade. The discussion quickly gets under way. We are not here to talk about a book project—that would only come later. We are here to talk about contemporary architecture in Geneva. More precisely, to talk about the loopholes and restrictions impeding the development of contemporary architecture in Geneva. Struck by the professional commitment of my interlocutors, a feeling gradually takes hold of me. It is still indefinable. The discussion progresses. It intensifies, densifies. The feeling resurfaces. It becomes clearer, it crystallises into a question. At the end of the 2010s, how many Swiss architects choose to take the time to reflect on their discipline and their role in society as Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet do? From reflection to construction

When the economic crisis that hit the Swiss construction sector hard in the 1990s subsided, many architectural firms experienced a sharp increase in their volume of work. After a period of scarcity, commissions came pouring in and the architectural scene was profoundly altered. These recent economic shifts, whose impact has not yet been fully measured, effectively transformed architectural production and its quality. This is one of the conclusions that can be drawn some fifteen years after this spectacular upturn, which has continued unabated despite the financial crisis that has shaken several Western economies since 2008. The generation of architects who entered practice between the late 1980s and the late 1990s, to which Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet belong, both having graduated in 1989 from the Ecole Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne, experienced highly contrasting working conditions, going from dearth to overabundance. A period of major economic difficulties—many architects of this generation switched to other professions—was followed by a period of strong growth. Each of these periods imposed specific constraints on professionally active architects: the projects of the 1990s, often thought out in great detail—but most of the time not built—were succeeded by much less elaborate projects, completed in record times. After more than fifteen years of this relentless production, which has left some architects nostalgic for a time when “architects still used to draw”, it is clear that several offices touted as the leading lights of Swiss architecture in the early 2000s have now lapsed into commercial output reminiscent of the architectural and real-estate excesses seen at the tail end of the post-war boom.

phenomenon also occurs: a virtual out-of-frame area induced this time by the phenomenon of neighbourhood and the new and often random relationships that are constructed between these photographs. The term construction is appropriate: the two friezes of the studio give rise to an architectural sensation as if these juxtaposed paper rectangles formed either the cross section of a building or the plan of a city district. This is evidenced by the rapid exercise of following the gaps between these rectangles, which seems to generate, if not a system, then at least a new order. Indeed, one of the cognitive processes that characterises the imagination is, as commonly expressed, to “construct” projects and plans. Robert Ireland

Building constructed in 1937 by Emile Bouffard for the SADED company, then enlarged by Pierre Braillard in 1946 for the SAPOS company (according to the architectural records of the Canton of Geneva). The Atelier Bonnet is located on the ground floor of Pierre Braillard’s extension.

Aby Warburg, Mnemosyne Atlas, 1926

Frédéric Frank

Atelier Bonnet who, when writing about the building on rue De-Candolle built by Léon Fulpius (1880-1881) in the recent publication of a study on Geneva’s urban ensembles, comment: “Built according late nineteenth century codes and in the momentum of the city’s extension to the ‘Fazy ring road’, this ensemble demonstrates that a quiet presence can emit a focused intensity, a central theme in contemporary debates on urban quality.” 3

2 3• 4 5 6• 7

“Patient search” is expressed through several aspects of the Atelier Bonnet’s production, equally in the objects produced and in the processes implemented to produce them. While the first term refers to the product of the architectural work, the second evokes a dimension that is often unfamiliar to those outside of architectural offices: the methods used to achieve this product. Before analysing in detail some of the projects built by the Atelier Bonnet, one must first consider the processes that preceded their existence. Evoking processes is another way, in this text, of postulating the need to take into account the time of reflection and the time of production as factors that influence architectural production. Making provision—or failing to make provision—for these two times, which receive little attention in architectural theory, can be just as decisive as a client’s budget or the legal framework in which an architectural object appears. All the more so

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Mireille Adam Bonnet, Pierre Bonnet, Bastions, Rue De-Candolle, Collection “Ensembles Urbains Genève”, Infolio, Gollion, 2019, p. 17.

Covering of the SBB train tracks, Saint-Jean, Geneva 2 14-unit apartment Building, Vésenaz 3 Résidence de la Rive, Onex 4 10-unit apartment building, Vésenaz 5 Family dwelling, Vandoeuvres 6 “Palmatifide”, Lausanne Jardins 7 Urban unit composed of 26 apartments, activities and depot, Corsier 8 District of 108 dwellings, Plateau de Vessy 9 “Belle Terre” district of 680 dwellings, activities and public spaces, A2 and B urban units, Communaux d'Ambilly, Thônex 10 Football stadium and changing rooms, Belle-Idée, Chêne-Bourg 11 6-unit apartment building with café, Pâquis district, Geneva 12 Public space and amenities, Chandieu school and childcare centre, Geneva

Patient search

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4-unit apartment building, Vésenaz Writer’s cabin, Maison de l’écriture, Montricher 6-unit apartment building with commercial spaces, Vésenaz 36-unit apartment building with chapel, Pâquis, Geneva 3-unit apartment building and commercial spaces, Vésenaz 48-unit apartment building and commercial spaces, Surville, Petit-Lancy 93-unit student residencce and commercial spaces, Champel, Geneva Football stadium changing rooms, Stade du Moulin, Dardagny Access courtyard for a workshop, Confignon “Cambium”, Lausanne Jardins 50-unit cooperative apartment building and workshops, Bienne

Elevation 18 Rue De-Candolle building

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Time as an ally

The use of the expression “patient search” is a reference to two texts by Le Corbusier: Ronchamp (les carnets de la recherche patiente (1957) and L’Atelier de la recherche patiente, (1960)—published in English as Creation is a Patient Search (1960). The expression is not employed here to invoke the ambitious and conclusive dimensions of the latter work but rather the interpenetration between the singular and the universal that it implies: “Rather than propose a theorisation of the relations between art and architecture, Le Corbusier articulates them from an autobiographical point of view, again in terms of the tension between singular expression and universality. The word recherche, which means both ‘search’ and ‘research’, suggests this ambivalence. There is nothing more personal than a search, especially when it is ‘patient’. But in the most commonly accepted use of the term ‘research’, found in the sciences, there is at the same time a claim to objectivity that is documented by means of a laboratory notebook. It is this notebook that Le Corbusier retrospectively undertakes to write in Creation is a Patient Search (1960).” Antoine Picon, “Le Corbusier, l’architecture, les arts et le problème de l’expression”, in Le Corbusier. L’atelier de la recherche patiente (un métier), Musée Soulages, Rodez, 2018, p. 13.

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Fortunately, several architectural firms have managed to avoid the pitfalls of this period of intense activity, notably by maintaining the rigour, intensity and precision of the research initiated during the 1990s in their current production. The Atelier Bonnet is representative in this respect for the manner in which it has dealt with the constraints imposed by each of these periods, exaggerated for effect in the above description of course. Pierre Bonnet had the opportunity to begin his career as an indepen dent architect with the construction of two projects awarded to him through competitions, one of which was to design a new public space by burying the train tracks running through the Saint-Jean district in Geneva (1992-2002). The commission, which addressed three very d ifferent scales—the infrastructure and its public space, the pavilion, and the street furniture—represented an exceptional achievement in the professional context of the 1990s. Later, when the economic situation improved, this project-based research activity remained central to the office founded in 2000 with Mireille Adam Bonnet. Reflections on the interrelationships between various scales or the insertion of elements on a human scale in large-sized projects resurfaced later, for example, in the construction of the Chandieu school (2011-2017) and its adjacent public spaces. The re-emergence of earlier ideas is evident in the office’s work, not for the purpose of producing architectural objects at a lower cost through copying and repetition—as practised by industry or certain firms currently active on the Swiss architectural scene—nor for stylistic or ideological reasons, as is common in architecture. Such re-emergence occurs in the context of systematic research both to deepen existing knowledge and generate new knowledge. This “patient search”,2 conducted independently, demonstrates a remarkable commitment to the profes sion. Instead of fixed and standardised solutions, the Atelier Bonnet prefers to develop themes already investigated and to redeploy them in new projects. This reading of the office’s production explains the consistency in the materials used, the typological and distributive preoccupations and the architectural style of the buildings produced. As a result of this methodology, there has been a constancy to the Atelier Bonnet’s production over the two decades in which it has been in practice. The vagaries of fashion have made little impression. While vertically offset windows, ornamental motifs or folded facades still seem to offer many architects sufficient proof that their buildings are part of the contemporary debate, the Atelier Bonnet continues to systematically question its own architectural obsessions. With hindsight, it is evident that this attitude towards architecture has generated a production of great coherence that is astonishingly resistant to time. “Patient search” seems to have produced buildings with a certain independence in relation to ebbs and flows. This theme is of particular interest to the two partners of the

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Ebb and flow

given that contemporary society is characterised by an acceleration,4 particularly in technological terms, that is having a strong impact on production processes. In this specific context, time management is an essential challenge, including for architects. Processes: programmatic questions and defending innovation

The first and most important aspect of Atelier Bonnet’s “patient search” pertains to the attitude adopted by its partners with regard to the frequently drawn-out process that occurs between project and finished building. Factors generally outside the architects’ control come into play during this process, however they do not seem to inspire the same fears in Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet as they do in many of their colleagues. Instead, a longer process is viewed by them as a means to further develop their research. Indeed, they may even negotiate extended deadlines to have the time they deem necessary to produce the desired quality. This is illustrated by three projects in particular. In the Rive medico-social centre in Onex (2000-2007), the office was involved in a complex design process, with programme and architectural project being developed concurrently. The lack of a defined programme, which would have been perceived as a risk by most architects, is seen here as an opportunity. The elaboration of the programme and then of the project was to last three years, from 2000 to 2003, during which frequent discussions were held with the client in order to develop a care structure for elderly people with Alzheimer’s. When this first phase was concluded and the project submitted to the authorities to obtain planning permission, Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet felt a lingering dissatisfaction.5 The succession of constraints they had to resolve while adapting to changes in the programme left them with the impression that the version of the project they had submitted was still missing something. It was during a trip to Iran that they managed to put their finger on what was bothering them. With a few pen strokes executed during a long bus trip, they expanded the collective courtyard, resized the patios attached to each unit and redistributed the patients’ rooms. As soon as they got back, they convinced the clients of the relevance of these changes and submitted an additional planning permission request. It is the latter version of the project that was constructed between 2005 and 2007. In the Plateau de Vessy residential district of Veyrier (2005-2013), the architects embarked on a process that was just as necessary for the architectural quality of the project, albeit less gratifying. At the time of the competition, won by the studio in 2005, the future inhabitants of the project were not yet known. They were identified later, as it was being developed, when it was decided that two of the three buildings would be composed exclusively of subsidised apartments. In the Canton of Geneva, specific regulations apply to this type of apartment as Frédéric Frank

“We can therefore define modern society as a ‘society of acceleration’ in the sense that it is characterised by an increase in the pace of life (or a decrease in time) despite impressive rates of technical acceleration.” Hartmut Rosa, Aliénation et accélération. Vers une théorie critique de la modernité tardive (2010), Paris, Editions La Découverte, 2012, p. 32.

Interview with Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet conducted by the author, Geneva, 15 November.

On related issues, see Pierre Bonnet’s article, “Ingrédients qualitatifs du logement”, Interface, no. 26, 2017, pp. 14–17.

well as a strict oversight of construction costs. The initial project, although it was unanimously approved by the client, now had to be revised, however without sacrificing the qualities that had singled it out during the competition. In particular, it had to integrate additional bedrooms in the same built surfaces. After an administrative delay lasting about one year—during which Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet continued to look for typological solutions to the conditions set out in the brief—the final project was elaborated without undermining the working hypotheses that had been put forward by the studio during the competition. Moreover, this project was to play an important role in easing social housing regulations in Geneva.6 In the Communaux d’Ambilly project, there is such an interlocking of scales of work and types of pro cedures that the term “process” takes on as full a scope as it can have in the early twenty-first century. On the basis of a master plan designed collectively by Arbane, Joan Busquets-BAUb and Weber+Brönnimann, a procedure to conduct parallel studies was initiated in 2008. Atelier Bonnet won the resulting commission and thus defined the relationship between the solids and the voids of the first two urban units in the centre of the future district. The relationship to the larger landscape and the fine spatial reading of certain large farms present in the Geneva countryside are two elements that inspired the partners in this work. Following the acceptance of the principles defined by politicians and local residents, the parallel study procedure was transposed into a neighbourhood plan in 2009. This transposition of a strong idea into a legal document as well as into specifications presented an opportunity to define the relationship between the public esplanades and the buildings but also to distribute the different categories of housing identified. Once the district plan was adopted by the Geneva Council of State in 2011, a procedure for selecting architectural firms was implemented in 2013 for the A2 and B urban units. Four offices were selected, including Atelier Bonnet, which was assigned one of the buildings in the A2 urban unit with its collective car park and public esplanades. The planning permission application followed in 2015 and was granted in 2018. The con struction of five buildings, comprising approximately 680 apartments along with commercial premises, is due to be delivered in 2022. The fact the project will have spanned a total of fourteen years from the urban planning competition to the final delivery is not perceived as a constraint by Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet.7 On the contrary, they view this nesting of the different procedures, in the manner of Russian dolls, as an opportunity to identify specific issues at each scale of the process. Thanks to the quality of the transitions from one procedure to the next they were able to agree with the other offices working in the A2 and B sections on three common principles for the implementation of the project: the horizontality of the facades; the unity of the materials, including the minerality of the facades Patient search

and the use of wood for the ground floors; and the porosity of the buildings, to provide fluid circulation between esplanades and gardens. Built objects: materiality, constructive details and movement

The second decisive contribution of the “patient search” conducted in the Atelier Bonnet lies in the constructive qualities of the buildings, most prominently in the research carried out on concrete, as highlighted by Jean-Claude Girard’s contribution in this volume. In this respect, “patient search” often becomes “patient construction”. Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet draw on their strengths: their collaboration with the family construction company and their frequent dual role as project managers and representatives for the clients. Thus, the construction period for their house in Vandœuvres (2003-2007) ended up being doubled to allow them to further develop their ideas while giving the workers time to cast the concrete, a delicate operation that required craftsmanship. This critical assessment carried out in situ suggests an investment in the production process more akin to that of the artisan or the sculptor than to that of the architect, showing a willingness to “get to grips” with the materials so to speak.8 The total mastery of constructive details and the choice of the Atelier Bonnet’s two partners to allocate enough time to projects to ensure the quality of the finished product are another important aspect of their approach to construction. This can be seen, for example in the catalogue of railings they have produced for their projects, or certain lighting fixtures and pieces of furniture designed by Pierre Bonnet. These details often respond to issues that go beyond simple regulatory constraints or deliberate aesthetic choices. The railings running along the facades of the Rue du Môle building in

Interview with Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet conducted by the author, op.cit.

In addition to the usual site visits, Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet lived on the plot for the duration of the work.

Geneva (2010-2014) illustrate this principle. In this project, the architects’ design was based on their reading of buildings constructed between the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, particularly in the Pâquis district in which the project is located. They were particularly interested in the presence of cast iron railings that provide both physical and visual protection between dwellings and the street space. They then set out to contextualise and reinterpret this reference by decreasing the density of the railings from the first to the sixth floor of the building. These constructive components—handrails, balustrades but also different kinds of concrete—establish a direct relationship with the users, to whom the architects are particularly attentive. As a case in point, one need look no further than the numerous benches that feature in several of their projects, both outside and inside. The Chandieu school is undoubtedly the studio’s most paradigmatic project in this respect. The seating divides into three families: seating that is immediately identifiable, such as the prismatic or cylindrical wooden benches placed near the school’s main staircase; seating that is identifiable at second glance because it is assimilated into multifunctional “furniture” such as the pavilions providing shade on the roof terrace that also serve as tables, benches or huts; seating that is identifiable only after a close reading of the building or through frequent use, such as the low wall facing the staircase leading to the building or the pedestal next to the inner staircase of the childcare centre. These points of contact between the user and the materiality of the building are one of the research themes dear to Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet, as expressed in many ways by the presence of concrete inside the apartments they design. The analysis of the built spaces highlights the particular attention that the two partners pay to circulation. In the public or semi-public programmes, this is reflected by their mastery of the diverse flows required by different users, as in the Rive medical-social centre where the three groups of users—care staff, patients and visitors—have radically different architectural experiences due to the manner in which they circulate. This attention is also expressed in the production of diversity, including in spatial sequences that tend to be repetitive, such as stairwells. In the Chandieu school, for example, the creation of a cascading staircase generates, between the classrooms, informal spaces whose proportions change on each floor. Moreover, this spatial arrangement constantly renews the perception of the three almost identical platforms holding the classrooms, with pupils appearing each time in another point of the building. The sectional work then enriches the ascent within the school, the flights opening onto single, double or triple heights. The succession of flights—revealing the depth of the space—as well as the presence of podiums near certain staircases evokes certain principles in the staging of movement inspired by the “rhythmic spaces”9 designed by Adolphe François Appia for the theatre, a reference the architects consciously invoke. Frédéric Frank

An architecture of resistance?

Through these different aspects, Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet conceive a precise and committed architecture, avoiding gratuitous and showy effects while expressing their professional, social, sensorial and even ethical concerns. The fact that this approach can be time-consuming and generate constraints is secondary in their view. Their work therefore takes on a particular significance that casts a new light 9

“Dalcroze invited me in the spring of 1909 to attend a production he had carefully prepared with new music, costumes, coloured lighting, etc. I left the performance saddened and I saw what I must do: I grabbed paper and pencils and feverishly designed two or three spaces each day for rhythmic movement. When I had produced about twenty of these designs, I sent them to Dalcroze (...). the style of the space for the movements of the body was now founded. All that remained was to experience it and to adapt it flexibly, without dogmatism, to the needs of each day. This meant some trial and error, and the staircase, so easily complicit with the body, became a sure guide.” Adolphe Appia, Expériences de théâtre et recherches personnelles, 1924, quoted in Richard C. Beacham et al., Adolphe Appia ou le renouveau de l’esthé tique théâtrale. Dessins et esquisses de décors, Lausanne, Editions Payot, 1992, p. 45.

on the question of the architect’s responsibility, in a way that seems to resonate with a recent quote by Arthur Lochmann: “This taste for quality craftmanship is therefore partly linked to the responsibility of the work. In broad sections of the professional world, this sense of care is becoming a thing of the past. The complexity of contemporary modes of production tends to dissipate individual action, so much so that it is increasingly difficult to feel individually responsible for anything in particular.” 10 By mobilising the tools they have at hand, the partners of Atelier Bonnet reaffirm the role of the architect in the field of construction professionals, which was profoundly restructured in the wake of the 1990s crisis that affected this sector in Switzerland. They have proven that total mastery of the work remains a guarantee of quality. In response to an acceleration in the means of production and a reduction in the time allotted to the architectural project, the buildings of Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet seem to assert, through their calm and serene presence,11 a most stimulating form of resistance.

Spring 2019. In the midday sun. The foliage of Beaulieu park is dense as we approach the Chandieu school. Children are playing near the steps leading into the building while a few parents are sitting on the street furniture designed by Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet. We are finishing a series of visits to the buildings constructed by the office. The architectural discipline and the role of the architect have remained constant themes of our discussions over the last few months. Architectural references have vied with theoretical and philosophical ones. In the midst of the jubilant abundance of these reflections shared with the two partners of the studio, two moments of clarity occur, as vivid as they are fleeting. They are prompted by two encounters, or rather two spontaneous conversations. The first, when a local resident we pass on the public esplanade of Chandieu hails us and then marvels at the new landscaping that now lets her get away from her cramped urban balcony to sit at a large public table under a generous arbour proposed and then created by the Atelier Bonnet.12 The second is with an artist, an elderly resident of the Rive medico-social centre, who, when shaking hands with Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet, pipes up in a flash of lucidity: “You’re the architects? A hard job but a but beautiful one... keep it up!”13 Inadvertently, these two encounters have helped answer the questions we have been mulling over. Patient search

Arthur Lochmann, La vie solide. La charpente comme éthique du faire, Paris, Editions Payot & Rivages, 2019, p. 162.

Producing an architecture that can impart a feeling of serenity in the user is one of the Atelier Bonnet’s objectives. The two partners are fond of quoting Luis Barragan’s acceptance speech at the 1980 Pritzker Prize award ceremony: “Serenity is the great and true antidote against anguish and fear, and today, more than ever, it is the architect’s duty to make of it a permanent guest in the home, no matter how sumptuous or how humble. Throughout my work I have always strived to achieve serenity, but one must be on guard not to destroy it by the use of an indiscriminate palette.” 12

Event that took place on 5 June, around 11am, under the arbour in the north-western part of the Beaulieu park, Geneva, in the company of Pierre Bonnet. 13

Event that took place on 13 April, around 6pm, at the Rive medico-social centre, Thônex, in the company of Pierre Bonnet and Mireille Adam Bonnet.

“Inhabiting the structural frame”: buildings cast in exposed concrete

Preamble

When Ray and Charles Eames proposed a conceptual diagram of the design process at the What is design? exhibition1 held in Paris in 1969, they emphasised the bonds unifying the protagonists of a project: the client, society as a whole and the design office. Each approaches the project with specific concerns, which overlap to define an area of convergence and shared interests and it is on this area that the project must focus in order to best meet everyone’s needs. The strength of this diagram is that it is not static, but open to change and thus to adding participants as long as it contributes to a “positive dialogue” capable of enriching the reflection on the project. The Atelier Bonnet has had opportunities to explore this “positive dialogue” in a series of projects whose creative process—from sketch to completion—has been broadened and enhanced by the participation of Pierre Bonnet’s brother, Christian, a contractor,2 from the earliest phases of this process. The family construction company not only built the projects, thanks to its expe rience it also contributed to the constructive choices. The constellation of actors thus formed, with everyone working to achieve balance in the built object, is an example of a mutually enriching approach. It has resulted in seven built projects3 primarily characterised by the use of external exposed concrete as a load-bearing structure and the emergence of a way of thinking in which concrete is no longer merely viewed as a requisite tool for the construction of the building but redefines the relationship between raw materials and the act of inhabiting. This raises an interesting question: did the construction company’s involvement from the start of the process favour the emergence of technical solutions that could respond to the architectural ambitions? Conversely, did the constructive experiences foster new architectural expressions? A milestone: apartment building in Vésenaz4 (2000-2006)

The first collective housing project the Atelier Bonnet worked on is located in Vésenaz, on the Thonon road between Geneva to Evian. It is set in a district plan designed by the Canton of Geneva5 in which plot 1

The exhibition featured the designers Joe Colombo, Charles Eames, Fritz Eichler, Verner Panton and Roger Tallon.

A set of family circumstances prompted the Bonnet brothers—Pierre, the architect, and Christian, the contractor—to start working together on various projects. The Bonnet company is now recognised for the quality of its exposed concrete by the Geneva architectural community.

Jean-Claude Girard

As follows: four buildings located in Vésenaz, one in the Pâquis district, a complex in Corsier and a family villa.

The projects are named in the same way as they appear on the Atelier Bonnet website.

boundaries were redrawn to allow for the construction of four buildings on three sides of a site. The Atelier Bonnet was responsible for a rectangular plot with a 45 m × 17 m buildable perimeter, located to the west, sheltered from direct exposure to the noise of the road and accessible via a peripheral pedestrian path. Thanks to the position of the site, slightly below the road and relatively removed from the other construc tions, it was possible to envisage a typology that sought to break with the proximity of the neighbourhood and offer the apartments diagonal views by systematically placing living rooms in the corners. The typical floor plan thus radiates from a centre occupied by a single stairwell that connects to four apartments per floor. These apartments stretch over nearly 25 metres, distributed along the party wall, with bedrooms located close to the entrances while the living areas occupy the corners to take advantage of views on two sides. The structural principle was simple in appearance on the face of it: slabs supported by a series of columns on the facade and, in the centre, by the party walls separating the apartments and forming the stairwell. In reality, it posed different constructive problems because the 8.5 m span of the slab exceeds what is generally accepted in housing. The solution was to adopt a 65-cm-high continuous band along the perimeter of the facade, cast at the same time as the slab in order to obtain a rigid edge. The inverted base effect thus prevents cracking and becomes the foundation for the prefabricated pillars. The 765 m² of each slab were cast in one pouring, without expansion joints, mobilising all the construction company’s resources. The finish of the concrete is the result of a meticulous process based on defining colours through the addition of pigments. In its projects, the Atelier Bonnet thus differentiates between cast and prefabricated concrete. The former have a brownish hue obtained by the addition of iron oxide pigments, which gives it a more tactile texture while revealing the imprint of the wood. This imprint is visible in particular thanks to a fine grading of 0-16 mm that adheres closely to the veins of the oiled type-2 formwork panels. The prefabricated concrete of the facade pillars6 is, conversely, an immaculate white obtained by the addition of titanium-based pigments.7 The dialogue and contrast of the concretes clearly express the construction process without showing the difficulty of its implementation. As coloured concrete is more expensive, it was decided to use it only in the visible parts, requiring the masons to pour two different concretes at the same time, which added further complexity to an already delicate operation. On the facade, the architects decided to avoid any additional components, in order to give visual priority to the concrete and endow the building with a monolithic character. A first plane is provided by the prefabricated load-bearing pillars and a second, recessed plane is defined by the metalwork components. The aluminium window technology—which involves railings, corbels, glazing and blind boxes—is designed as a unique infill Jean-Claude Girard

element unified by materiality and colour, which does not clash visually with the structural frame already in place. This is also reflected in the absence of window sills, which are replaced by a V-shaped concrete channel, moulded wet on wet in the concrete and which collects rainwater and drains it off with metal pipettes positioned before the strips were poured. Once again, the construc tion company’s dexterity was tested to the full,8 ensuring architectural, structural and constructive consistency through the development of specific details. This building can be viewed as the first milestone laid down in producing the series of aforementioned projects. In particular, it served to establish a number of architectural and constructive principles that were sub sequently reused with several variations. This continuity and its open-ended nature relied heavily on the collab orative approach with the family construction company, in which the development of the partial pigmentation of concretes and the search for new expressions of this material were central.

the interlocking of folded pieces of cast concrete, whose joints, clearly legible and precisely drawn, express the workmanship. Each room is composed of a wall and a slab whose dimension is limited by the 7 m³ volumetric capacity of the concrete-mixer trucks. While the construction may appear simple, it is in fact extremely complex. It required the organisation of the concrete work into very precise stages to allow for the simultaneous casting of the slabs and the base layers, which once again will guarantee constructive continuity and avoid the risk of cracking. Nonetheless, this constructive choice was to entail a much longer construction time than that required by conventional methodology, something which the parties involved accepted as a basic condition of their search for quality in this project. Once again, the research process stemmed from the relationship between the architects and the construction company, giving a virtuosic expression to their collab oration.9 For example, the question of the construction joint was explored in depth and became a real constructive issue. More than just a contingency resulting from the need to pour the concrete in stages, here, and in subsequent projects, the joint acquires the status of a structural and aesthetic component that has an influence on the scale of the house.10 The roof is one of the outstanding elements of this spatial and constructive

Expressing the stages: a single-family house (2003-2007)

While the construction of the first apartment building was ongoing in 2003, the office started work on a private villa located on a leafy plot on the left bank of Geneva. It is, to date, the only example of this kind of programme in the Atelier Bonnet’s built work. Once again it provided the architects the opportunity to explore the expressive possibilities of coloured concrete, this time using it to create visual and formal continuity with the external environment. The project also gave rise to experiments in colour that were to be revisited in later buildings. In the course of the experimentation process, several samples were produced, inspired by clothing, and the resulting tone, somewhere between earth and wood, became the signature “Atelier Bonnet” colour. The end result endowed the concrete with a tactile and poetic quality that goes beyond its structural vocation and has it enter the realm of sensuality. The house is primarily laid out on a single floor with one specific part emerging on two levels. A veritable haven of greenery, the landscape quality of the plot influences the composition of the plan, which, contrary to the simplicity of the rectangle for the first building, develops in a centripetal manner, with areas grouping together functions whose external reading is enigmatic, both in terms of the openings and the floors. An informal hall welcomes visitors, giving access to the private areas on one side and to the living room and dining room on the other in a continuous movement in which framed exterior views determine the organisation of the spaces. Constructively, the house can be read as 24

Inhabiting the structural frame

The district plan is located in a development zone earmarked for suburban densification through the construction of residential buildings in areas devoted to individual villas. In return, the Canton imposes strict controls on the financial plan in order to avoid real-estate speculation. 6

The stairwell components were also prefabricated as load-bearing beams.

This choice, initially an economic one, sparked a search for visual expressiveness.

For the Atelier Bonnet, the end result is better than the drawing. Interview with Mireille and Pierre Bonnet, Atelier Bonnet, Geneva, 12 June. 9

Civil engineer Claude Uldry, from the Ott and Uldry office, is also one of the protagonists of this success story. Always looking for solutions in line with the architects’ intentions, he succeeded in pushing the structural limits of concrete while guaranteeing its constructive durability. This collaboration also came about from previous associations during which a mutual understanding had developed. 10

The foreman René Tomasson describes this creative process as “scheming”, the reading of the stages being so complex that it is almost impossible to imagine and summarise. Moreover, the cutting process is carried out in model and elaborated in parallel to the construction process. Interview with Mireille and Pierre Bonnet, Atelier Bonnet, Geneva, 12 June.

complexity: not only does it use the structural resources of reinforced concrete, with the corner cantilever, it also embodies the concreting rule applied to the whole house, that is to say the expression of the joint reveals the pouring stages.11 Returning to the question of continuity, we can see that the Atelier Bonnet sets up internal-external relations, not only in plan, but also through the material, in particular the homogeneous treatment of the floor and walls. In fact, the colour of the exterior concrete is also applied to the horizontal surfaces, likewise in cast concrete, which stretches the spaces beyond the purely thermal limits. This question had already been explored in the main entrance of the first building in Vésenaz, where a system of ramps, stairs and concrete walls accompanies residents and visitors as soon as they leave the pedestrian access path. In the case of the house, this principle of homogeneity is taken up and developed not only at the level of the entrance forecourt, but also in the terrace space. The constructive qualities of reinforced concrete are again mobilised to enhance this continuity through the use of facade walls extending beyond the interior space and emphasising the necessary movements of the ground plane to bed the building properly. The low external walls do not function as added elements but, on the contrary, are considered as an extension of the house. These two projects served as a model for later projects that revisited the same principle of load-bearing, exterior exposed concrete. From 2012 to 2014, the Atelier Bonnet had three ongoing sites, in Vésenaz, Corsier, and the city centre, in the Pâquis district. This provided an opportunity to consolidate the architectural and constructive themes already present in the previous projects, but also to develop a very close collaboration with the metalwork company.12 Although located in very different environments, distributed between city centre, suburbs and countryside, these projects confirmed the adaptability of the themes developed up to that point.

bathrooms articulates the distribution and creates a precise division between private and public areas. Whereas up to this point exposed concrete had only been used for the outer walls and the common distri bution spaces, this project marked its first appearance inside apartments.15 Taking advantage of the static necessity of a load-bearing wall in the central core, which frees up a corner window, the architects decided to express its primary materiality and make it an element of the interior composition. Left in its rough state, it not only acquires a singular presence through the contrast it produces with the white walls of the interiors, but also visually connects with the walls of the facades, blurring the perception of a clear boundary between interior and exterior. This effect is reinforced by the extension of the facade walls, which become supporting walls and contribute to further emphasising the organic character of the building, by establishing a dialogue with the interior wall. At the constructive level, the edges of the slabs are visible horizontally through the construction joints but also vertically, marking, as in the house, the stages in which the concrete was cast. This produces a surface effect on the walls that gives a legibility to the formwork, while the windows seem to hang, like paintings, from the lower part of the slab. For Christian Bonnet, this was probably the simplest constructive solution16 because it set up the standard system for pouring the concrete between walls and slabs. Static complexity is nevertheless present, particularly in the balconies that cantilever over a window17 and in the distribution of loads around the large corner 11

Christian Bonnet stated that this was, by far, the most complex building he has ever made. Interview with Christian Bonnet, Bonnet company offices, Corsier, 13 June.

Connecting with the outdoors: building of 10 apartments and commercial units in Vésenaz (2001-2013)

Sited on a plot of land initially belonging to the villa zone but opened up for construction by the Canton of Geneva with the aim of densifying suburban areas,13 this building is part of a district plan that on this occasion the Atelier Bonnet had a hand in designing. The morphology of the building seeks to make the most of the position of the plot, which, to the front, connects with the road to Thonon, and, to the rear, with the rural past of Vésenaz. The plan, like that of the house just described, is based on wings radiating from a central point, which in this case is occupied by the stairwell. The apartments, three per floor,14 do not develop in one branch of the plan each but are arranged in an L-shape, thus accumulating three orientations, with the living and dining rooms visually connected through the window panes in the recessed corner. The central core of the Jean-Claude Girard

window. A closer look at the facades shows that the vertical joints are not only positioned for constructive reasons, but that the colour of the concrete changes at these points and introduces a contrast between two shades. The interior layout of the plan can be seen on the facade: the slightly darker parts, with a pigment dosage18 rate of 5 %, correspond to the communal areas of the apartments, and the brightest, tinted at 3 %, to the bedrooms. The architects managed to use the construc tive constraints to enrich the architectural statement, and the building, despite its typological complexity, can be read, at least in part, from the outside. In the stairwell, rough formwork concrete is used for all surfaces, both horizontal and vertical, and gives the distribution space a specific character, prompting the architects to speak of “inhabiting the structural frame”. Indeed, no surface treatment is applied to the steps cast in-situ, in a process that does not allow for the slightest error in execution and once again demonstrates the masons’ skill. The circulation follows a spiral movement from the ground floor to the top through a decomposition of the stairwell, whose configuration changes floor by floor, through a complex set of landings and double heights. This complexity does not stop inside but also extends to the public space the building influences by its presence. It is located next to a pre-existing cedar, a building constructed by the Bonnet brothers’ grandfather and, as we will see, opposite their most recent apartment building. The architects make use of this opportunity to create what Kenneth Frampton calls “an urban enclave”,19 i.e. an ensemble offering places to inhabit whose coherence can be based on tectonic quality, particularly in the details. The architects are already anticipating the final composition and are introducing elements of street furniture, which, although separate from the construction, are attached to it by their materiality and visual qualities. The stairwell opens onto the square and the cladding, as in the house, extends to the outside of the building, in the manner of a carpet to welcome visitors. The facades thicken to become benches and the overhangs of the entrances clearly indicate their purpose, while the rural past invites itself as far as the road by the extension of the garden sloping down to the level of the public plaza. The use of concrete imparts a great visual coherence to the whole by playing the role of tectonic binder, all the while guaranteeing a formal autonomy that detaches the enclave from its immediate environment. This principle of the ensemble will be repeated twice later, at Corsier and again at Vésenaz, demonstrating to what extent the use of concrete will accompany the architects in their desire to use the resources of a materiality,

The company run by Emmanuel Arons, with whom Atelier Bonnet continues to collaborate today.

See note 5.

With the exception of the ground floor, which holds one apartment and commercial units.

With the exception of two walls left in exposed concrete on the attic level of the first building.

The position of the joints at the lower and upper levels of the slab simplifies the placement of the formwork.

The soft brown-green iron oxide-based pigment is the same as the one used in the first building.

The maximum slenderness is reached from a static point of view and defines the maximum width of the window.

Kenneth Frampton, Modern Architecture. A Critical History, Thames & Hudson, 2006.

Inhabiting the structural frame

whatever the environment the buildings are inserted into, in order to create new identities for places. Embracing topography: ensemble of 26 residential units and activities in Corsier (2005-2015)

The next operation is located in Corsier-Village, after Vésenaz on the road from Thonon to Evian —in a location characterised by a more rural environment than in previous projects, with a north-facing slope offering views of the lake and the Jura mountain range. The programme is also more complex as it combines collective housing with the Bonnet company depot and mixed activity areas. The topography, in particular the hollow in the centre, is a direct legacy of the site’s past, which was by turns a landfill, a quarry, a factory, and the Bonnet company’s headquarters and depot. The distribution of volumes on the site was partly influenced by this factor, while also taking into account the views and orientations. Concrete was once again used to strengthen the connection to the site and homogenise the whole, drawing on the principles of visual and structural continuity. Generally speaking, the methods developed in previous projects were reused, whether in terms of the entrance stairs to the apartments, which emerge from the thresholds, the rigid 49-cm bands of concrete20 that mark the pouring stages or the walls of the facades that extend beyond the construction to disappear into the ground. Inside too, concrete is used in its rough state, in the stairwells and apartments, reviving to the theme of “inhabiting the structural frame”. However, the use of new construction possibilities can also be noted: the building, whose apartments overlook the lake, is marked by a double cantilever—on the Jura side for the loggias and on the courtyard side for the covered entrances areas and parking spaces— which extends over half of the building’s footprint. This is the first example of such an explicit use of a motif demonstrating the tensile strength of concrete21 and, moreover, one of the driving forces behind the expression of modern architecture.22 In response to the largely economic constraints of housing programmes, which steer choices towards a certain architectural and constructive restraint, the Atelier Bonnet has rarely made use of the figure of the cantilever. But in Corsier,23 the extension of the large concrete walls separating the apartments offered the possibility of suspending the slabs and creating a portico whose weight would cause a lifting effect on the opposite side. For Christian Bonnet, the constructive challenge came more from the superimposition of the floors, which are usually aligned but here are shifted upwards by 5 cm from the bottom to the top in order to do away with the gutters in front of the windows and to generate a drip edge for each floor. The formwork had to be adapted each time, requiring a complex set of braces. For the architects, the resulting image is that of a building that is growing, reinforced by the play of shadows cast on the courtyard facade. The Corsier complex Jean-Claude Girard

demonstrates the ability of a material to adapt. Here, in an environment that differs from the previous examples, the notion of “urban enclave” is transposed to an agricultural context. A large window: building of 6 apartments and 1 commercial unit in Geneva (2010-2015)

Concurrently with the two previous projects, the Bonnet studio was for the first time working on a building located in the city centre, on the Rue du Môle, in the Pâquis district of Geneva. The very narrow and deep plot was occupied by a house dating from 1846, whose three-storey outline bore witness to the district’s past. To the front, the entrance was marked by a small gate, while a gravel courtyard was nested to the rear, creating a breathing space in the density of the district. The characteristics of the house may seem detached from the apartment building that replaced it, as their respective forms differ strongly. However, the house served as a reference when defining the organisational principles in plan and on the facade of the new building. In both cases, stretching the site does not allow for a total exploitation of the surface and offers the possibility of creating a common exterior courtyard at the end of the plot, as if connected to the street by the distribution system. Typologically, each floor is occupied by a single apartment directly accessible by a lift.24 The construction materials are again a mixture of exposed concrete and plaster, the two folded walls that organise the typology being left in their rough state. While the architectural and constructive issues echoed some of those already encountered in previous projects, in this case, the challenge of the two facades was complexified by the heterogeneity of the neighbouring buildings, especially those in the street alignment. To resolve this issue, the architects again turned to the past and recognised the qualities of the openings in the old house, which, despite its modest scale, stood out from the adjacent buildings. The option was taken to open only one single window on each side, i.e. to the 20

The 49-cm height of the band corresponds to the measurement of the standard formwork panel, minus 1 cm.

With the exception, as noted above, of the balconies in the ten-apartment building.

Cyrille Simonnet, Le béton. Histoire d’un matériau, Marseille, Éditions Parenthèses, 2005.

The engineer Marcio Bichsel of Ingeni SA was in charge of the static calculation of this building while the other buildings were calculated by Ponti & Morel. 24

An easement makes it possible to use the stairwell of the adjoining building and thus save space on each floor of the new building.

street and the courtyard, while giving these windows a larger scale than the neighbouring openings as well as visual impact by removing any motifs that might compete with them. Thus, with the pouring of the concrete limited to two stages, a single joint is visible on the upper level of the slab. The resulting pattern is that of large stacked concrete frames going from one neighbouring building to another. The formal simplicity conceals the constructive complexity that the construction company had to resolve by using formwork that eliminated the lower joint and by pouring the facade before the slabs. On the visible side, the builders had to use the same formwork panels for all seven floors to guarantee a uniform colour at each pouring stage. The radical nature of this expressive choice to stand out from the built environment through a change of scale is placed in dialogue with the precision of the metalwork, especially the railings along the large sliding windows. The architects’ idea was to draw inspiration from the link between metal and minerality evident in the filigree ironwork combined with massive stone that characterises the nineteenth-century city. In the Rue du Môle, the 12 mm × 12 mm solid iron bars are designed as a filter between interior and exterior and their position on the same plane as the concrete wall gives them an almost textile-like character. For the architects, the quality of the result is the fruit of the collaboration fostered with the metalworking company, according to the same principles as developed with the builders. Concrete carpenters: 4- and 3-unit apartment buildings with commercial spaces in Vésenaz (2012-2016, 2015-2021)

This ensemble of two small buildings extends around a courtyard in a manner reminiscent of the past. The more private status of this courtyard space is restored, with balconies-loggias projecting over it. The overall composition is characterised by punctuations that create visual and physical transparency connecting to the immediate environment while leaving clearances where the balconies-loggias are housed: these become the dominant feature of the ensemble and change orientation according to their position. They are designed as outdoor living rooms in their own right and their importance is highlighted by the constructive choice adopted. On this project the joints are positioned on the lower level of the slab and on the rear wall, creating a stacking effect on the facade, like in the Rue du Môle project. Inhabiting the structural frame

They also link the balconies to the rest of the facade through a horizontal stretching effect that accentuates the slenderness of the band. Once again, the formal solution seems relatively simple and obvious, with the visual effect of the wall emphasising the wood texture of the formwork panels. Constructively, on the other hand, the installation of the formwork required fully-fledged carpentry25 on the part of the builders, so much so that the time needed to cast the concrete doubled the overall construction time. As the bands were poured before the slabs and without spacer rods, the formwork for the balcony slabs had to be adapted to the two pouring stages. In order to avoid any honeycombing appearing during the formwork removal, the panel clamps were carefully checked, and adjusted if necessary, the day before pouring.26 At present, only the building at the back of the courtyard has been completed. A second one is planned and will allow, on the one hand, to articulate the connection to the village and, on the other, to establish a dialogue with the building already constructed while punctuating the interior space of this new urban enclave with its presence. An organic grid: 6-unit apartment building with 1 commercial unit in Vésenaz (2015-2018)

The most recent built project completes the enclave of Vésenaz, fitting in alongside an earlier project by the Atelier and the grandfather’s building.27 Situated in the alignment of the street front on the Thonon road, the irregular geometry of the plot required a complex morphology, which was used to the advantage of the interior spaces of the apartments. In terms of language, the architects opted for a rational grid that encompassed the form and gave it unity despite the folds produced by the setting. The columns are thus placed on slabs folded on three sides and the filling was carried out using light wood and aluminium 25

The foremen’s father was a carpenter and, according to the masons, instructed them the basics of woodworking. Interview with the builders Alfonso Da Costa Silva and Manuel Costa Da Silva, Bonnet company depot, Corsier, 3 October. 26

Honeycombs occur due to water leakage during casting. Interview with Alfonso Da Costa Silva and Manuel Costa Da Silva, Bonnet depot, Corsier, 3 October. 27

Jean-Claude Girard

This is the 10-unit apartment building in Vésenaz.

components. Exposed concrete is once again used in the common areas of the stairwells and in the apartments, as well as for the street furniture in the outdoor spaces. As in the first building in Vésenaz, the architects adopted the language of the grid,28 however in this case the columns are cast in situ and not prefabricated, allowing for some formal flexibility, both in plan and in facade. The slope of the road is integrated into the project by the installation of height offsets, culminating in the balcony opening onto the cedar in the plaza, while the commercial unit is staggered in tiers. The grid is therefore deformed in plan and elevation to accompany the slope, but not in its depth, which is linked to the interiority of the apartments. To give an additional dimension to the facade, each component of the metalwork—apron walls, sills/guard rails, windows—is treated in such a way as to create a relief effect, accentuated by being set back from the grid. This work, once again, was carried out in close collaboration with the metalworker. It creates a play of shadows that establishes a dialogue between the concrete and the metal but also between the building and the position of the sun, endowing this building with an organic dimension that is reinforced by the interweaving of the materials. The concrete was to be poured into new formwork, thus raising the issue of the quality of the finish, which would become random. To mitigate this risk, the masons, on their own initiative,29 used the leftover concrete from the concrete-mixer trucks and spread it on the horizontally laid panels. This technique, they contend,30 draws out the resin and tempers panel defects, causing the wood to age prematurely and therefore ensuring uniformity of colour and finish.31 “Inhabiting the structural frame”

The examples listed above show how close collaboration with certain companies has fostered research whose tangible expression is the use of exposed concrete, not only for its static qualities but for its ability to generate spatial and constructive continuity. For Cyrille Simonnet, “modern architecture, having banished ornamentation, no longer has any medium to ‘express’ the constructive function other than its material, organised in such a way as to signify this essential alternation: bearing, borne.”32 In the present case, this mutual enrichment attributes a new status to exposed reinforced concrete. The goal is not to make a static demonstration but to endow concrete with the status of a material in its own right, capable of dialogue with the other components of the building but also with those of the site. For the architects, the masons they are used to working with are “concrete carpenters”33: the complexity involved in setting up the formwork requires a mastery that few craftsmen possess, meaning the architects can enter into constructive minutiae in a way that they could not expect to do with another company. In addition to their exceptional know-how, these companies have the ability to suggest techniques capable of opening up Inhabiting the structural frame

projects to different expressive perspectives. This collaboration has led to the development of new on-site techniques and the emergence of an architectural design that is no longer based on an aesthetic or ideological assumptions, but on a series of constructive details that evolve from one project to the next. The Atelier Bonnet took advantage of this unique opportunity to question the very nature of materials and give them a new sensorial status that they offer to inhabitants and passers-by. “Inhabiting the structural frame” is therefore not an intellectual posture but speaks above all of humankind’s relationship to the built environment.

The first apartment building also adopted this language, which is used and expressed differently here.

This method was discovered one day by Christian Bonnet during on a site and came about due to an initiative taken by the masons, who wished their work to be perfect. 30

Interview with masons Alfonso Da Costa Silva and Manuel Costa Da Silva, Bonnet depot, Corsier, 3 October.

To complete this technique, the masons do quality control on the concrete when the concrete mixer trucks arrive on the site. If the proportion of water is not deemed satisfactory, it is modified before casting. Interview with masons Alfonso Da Costa Silva and Manuel Costa Da Silva, Bonnet depot, Corsier, 3 October.

Cyrille Simonnet, op.cit., p. 176.

Interview with Mireille and Pierre Bonnet, Atelier Bonnet, Geneva, 12 June.

A family of projects that address the wider landscape, a design that emphasises the form of the void supported by the solid, beyond the object. Two themes run through the projects: first, the desire to establish a relationship with that which lies beyond the site, to capture the identity of the background landscape in the heart of the architectural system; second, the need to move from one point to another to perceive, to get one’s bearings and to understand. The search for movement in sequences is an integral part of thinking about space. The relationship to the distant horizon and the immediate context creates a set of scales capable of offering depths of field generated by the landscape identity of a given place. One of the major concerns is to invite or arouse curiosity in the user to explore interlacing outdoor and indoor spaces through multiple pathways.

Depth of fields

Ground effect 40 Covering of CFF train tracks, design of public spaces, community centre and covered market, Saint-Jean, Geneva 1992-2002 Depth of fields

82 Multiples and detours Football stadium and changing rooms, Belle-Idée site, Chêne-Bourg, Geneva 2005-2012

Protective and open 52 Résidence de la Rive, medico-social centre, Onex, Geneva 2000-2007 36

Fold and plan(e) 110 Football stadium and changing rooms, Belle-Idée site, Chêne-Bourg, Geneva 2009-2015 37

Inversion and Fold 166 “Belle-Terre” district, urban units A2 and B, public spaces, Les Communaux d’Ambilly, Thônex, Geneva 2008-2014 Unity and complicity 128 Public space and amenities, school, childcare centre and swimming pool, Chandieu, Geneva 2011-2017 Depth of fields

“Mont-Blanc—Salève” 174-unit apartment building, commercial premises, A2 car park, public esplanades 2014-2022

Sonik Fox 196 Redesign of football stadium and changing rooms, Stade du Moulin, Dardagny, Geneva 2017-2021 38

Ground effect

Covering of CFF train tracks, design of public spaces, community centre and covered market, Saint-Jean, Geneva 1992-2002

A continuous urban landscape extending over a 825 m × 25 m perimeter runs through the heart of two districts that formed historically along either side of a mid-nineteenth century railway line running below street level. This new urban space was created by building a deck to cover the tracks, thereby protecting against noise pollution. What morphologies does one apply to void and solid here? What dimensions does one imagine for human activity, superimposed on those of the railway line? What identity does one give to this particular and unprecedented space, built on an artificial ground? The project is characterised by the way in which it acknowledges the engineering structure built to cover the tracks, a raised platform that displays a palimpsest in relief. The design is based on the idea of a continuous, undulating promenade, differentiated from the vectorial movement of the trains. A series of spaces that narrow and widen in relation to both the immediate neighbourhood and the deeper landscape is organised in sequences of small alternating plazas. Within the city this makes for an atypical location whose identity contrasts with those of the districts it faces, Saint-Jean and Les Charmilles. The ground is designed, furnished and planted with trees, establishing an overall coherence and its own specific character. This surface holds the volumes of the activities determined by the master plan, developed on the basis of the winning project of the competition. In this complex project designed through the concept of the void, simultaneously on the small and large scale, the generous public space, which is exclusively pedestrian, is an opportunity to invent an “elsewhere” in the city. Depth of fields

In 1858, the railway line split the hill of Saint-Jean in two. The neighbourhood gradually formed alongside the track entrenched below the street level.

Depth of fields

Following the competition win, the impressive spectacle of the track overlay work took place in a convivial atmosphere in the heart of the district, with the beams being laid at night after the last trains had passed.

The premise: superimposing a sinuous, organic walkway over the rectilinear railway lines. The noise and the plunging view down to the tracks disappear, replaced by the vibration felt as the trains pass underneath.

Ground effect

Venice, visited shortly before the competition, curiously invited itself into the imaginary of the project: the continuous quays, the mini plazas and their solitary trees, the narrow passages.

The siting of the volumes was designed with certain visual associations in mind: objects floating on a river but also impressions of Hérens cows in motion during fights, their bodies either in close contact or set apart.

Imagined in sequences of small volumes, the new urban landscape breaks with the scale of the existing district to establish an identity all of its own. In keeping with the competition project master plan, the workshops and public amenities were designed by different architects on the basis

Depth of fields

On the day the competition entries were due, a drawing executed in one go, stretched, giving a suspended vision of the whole. During a transitional period when the platform was left bare, the footprints of the volumes were outlined on the ground to test the dimensions. As the economic crisis of the 1990s caused major

of a predefined charter. This adventurous project and intense urban experience spanned ten years between the vision set out in the competition in March 1992 and the completion of the urban plan and buildings in 2002.

Ground effect

uncertainty for the development of the public and private buildings on the project, a scenario to initiate the promenade was envisaged whereby the volumes would be materialised by clumps of bamboo. This concept returned spontaneously when the nursery school and brewery were taken out of the programme and replaced by a set of plant volumes.

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The colour blue is found in all the objects that can be touched, creating a visible identity in the depth of field.

Depth of fields

The theme of covered spaces is illustrated by the three galvanised steel pergolas in the bamboo garden as well as by the covered plaza with its wooden structure, which faces the Jura and the continuing train tracks. The local community centre is also incorporated in this structure.

The access sequence to the platform is organised around a constellation of objects composing an urban furniture range designed specifically for this project: a blue sofa under the shade of a golden false acacia, a candelabra, a guardrail, a rubbish bin.

Ground effect

The design of the ground is crucial: in keeping with the spirit of Geneva pavement, brushed concrete in a stretched format of 4.95 m x 0.66 m forms a visible grid throughout the platform.

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Depth of fields

Ground effect

Moving garden

urban games

covered plaza, community centre

Depth of fields

workshops

library

workshops

paddling pool

workshops

bamboo gardens

Urban amenities 1:2500 Elevation 1:500 Section, workshops

Section, bamboo garden 50

bamboo gardens

Ground effect

Protective and open

Résidence de la Rive, medico-social centre, Onex, Geneva 2000-2007

The story begins with a letter inviting architects to participate in a competition without a site or a defined programme, asking them to submit a written proposal formulating an architectural approach to Alzheimer’s. These initial reflections were to forge an attitude that permeated the entire multidisciplinary process that ensued. An intense relationship spanning seven years was fostered from the outset with the client’s representatives, a duo consisting of a project manager trained in philosophy and a doctor specialising in dementia. The institutional project and the architectural project were constructed and taken apart regularly and in parallel, in a process of constant reciprocal reflection. Initially, due to the uncertainty caused by the complexity of the subject, the project was based on an intuition, which turned out to be decisive: that of building a “large house capable of offering peace of mind”. In response to the project managers’ conviction that architecture can contribute to care, we designed a setting that is both protective and open. Thus, four houses, each with its own inner patio, form a hollowed-out ensemble conducive to intimacy and interiority, in the manner of a monastery. Every architectural detail was studied intensely in terms of the needs of the residents, the caregivers and the visiting families. Embedded in a harmonious natural setting, the project generated its own urban quality, with the act of strolling throughout the spaces weaving a link between landscape, nature and architecture. This project was to leave a very strong imprint on the way we reflect on the foundations of habitus in all our projects. Depth of fields

Depth of fields

Protective and open

Depth of fields

Protective and open

Depth of fields

Protective and open

Depth of fields

Protective and open

Depth of fields

Protective and open

Multiples and detours

District of 108 housing units, Plateau de Vessy, Veyrier, Geneva 2005-2012

The context of a competition without an existing district plan provided the opportunity for a morphological exploration of a site with striking topography: the horizontality of the Vessy plateau contrasting with the powerful presence of the Salève. In response to the open nature of the site, three large radiating volumes and three differentiated outdoor public spaces address near and distant horizons, independently of orientation. This morphological premise, induced by a search for a balance between solids and voids, produced an uncomfortable situation and opened up questions concerning the appropriate typological resolution. Which mode of distribution should be adopted for the apartments? What is the experience of the near and distant landscape in each sequence of a resident’s journey from the bus stop, the street or the car park to their apartment? The difficulty of dealing with very thick volumes (40 m x 40 m) is solved by hybridising the typology of the open courtyard building using the device of the guided and covered passageway. Thus, a plateau distributes to nine dwellings on each floor and opens onto the landscape through three large windows. The urban quality of the district is activated through the force of attraction exerted between the different bodies of the large houses in relation to each other and by the voids hollowed out in their volumes. The constellation of volumes cut out and assembled in the plateaus offers multiple and intersecting points of view, a way of perceiving urban and landscape qualities simultaneously. Depth of fields

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

Depth of fields

Multiples and detours

1:750 Depth of fields

1:750

Ground floor 100

Multiples and detours

Cross section Standard floor 101

In the research sketches executed for the competition, the concept of a “plateau” open to the landscape and repeated on each floor emerged in dialogue with the locality, the Plateau de Vessy. The constellation of the three cut-out volumes sets up clear views into the distance from each core.

Depth of fields

On the ground level as on the plateaus, everything is about criss-crossing circulation, with multiple pathways offering opportunities to switch routes or make detours. Although this neighbourhood is characterised by a form of repetitive housing, diversity is expressed on several levels, first and foremost by the decision to rethink the efficiency of the sequence leading from the resident’s car directly to their home.

102

Georges Perec, Espèces d'espaces, Paris, Editions Galilée, 1974

Multiples and detours

103

The natural light at the heart of the distribution plateaus extends into the apartments thanks to the permeability of the doors. These act as stainedglass windows, coloured lanterns for the exterior at night and for the interior during the day.

Depth of fields

104

Multiples and detours

By curious coincidence, the theme of perforation, which is implicit in the deformed circles, finds an echo in a notable local landscape feature, namely the caves carved by water erosion into the limestone of the Salève.

The tubular guardrail, inspired by a garden fence, connects with a fine, stainless steel handrail whose section and material are reproduced in the domestic space of apartments, namely in the kitchen and cupboard design.

105

505

370

350

455

350

505

370

1 840 176 20 130

145 11 126

314 314

185 166

92 92 11

109 90 8

314 314

205 186

92 92 11

116 90

15 15

92 11 92

448

147

CHAMBRE 1

CHAMBRE 3

CHAMBRE 1

SN: 13.12 m2

SN: 11.31 m2

SN: 13.12 m2

SN: 13.54 m2 SDB type 3

192 192 15

190

App. 5p SN : 82.3m2

242

199

545

435

132 132 11

262 240

192 192

448 406

CHAMBRE 1

SN: 41.69 m2

SN: 13.12 m2

186 205

H LOGGIA type 1

SN: 14.05 m2

SN: 6.13 m2

SN: 16.88 m2

SN: 13.16 m2

342

SN: 6.11 m2

11 11 92 92 90 109 8

350

314 314

11 92 92 15

20 15

370

SN: 13.12 m2

CHAMBRE 1

SN: 37.82 m2

70 116

259

186 205

192 192

240 262

132 11 132

406 448

1 130 390

147

LOGGIA type 1

SN: 6.51 m2

350

SDB type 3

170 116 116 221

182

LOGGIA type 2

B 16

174 16 132

SN: 9.33 m2

SN: 6.12 m2

545

CHAMBRE 1

1 840

166 185

SN: 15.31 m2

LOGGIA type 1

SN: 13.54 m2

SEJOUR - CUISINE - ENTREE

390

CHAMBRE 3

50 96

406 448

348

CHAMBRE 2

11 62 11 259 20 15

SN: 14.02 m2

SDB type 3

96 190 49

16 11

545 1 144

147 11 125 128 11 106

390

CHAMBRE 2

SN: 9.34 m2

CHAMBRE 4 147

20 15

CHAMBRE 3

SN: 11.31 m2

240 262

SDB type 6 SDB type 2 SDB type 8

SN: 39.49 m2

192 192

ENTREE

SEJOUR - CUISINE SN: 61.35 m2

370

222 222

SEJOUR - CUISINE

356

CHAMBRE 3

70 4

SN: 11.85 m2

92 11 92

132 11 132

130

CHAMBRE 4

92 11 92

602 513

1 070

160

App. 5p SN : 82.3m2

561

App. 6p SN : 102.3m2 13

App. 6p SN : 117.5m2

157

SDB type 7

SN: 18.14 m2

19 116

157

213

193

242 220 350

92 92 11

CHAMBRE 1

CHAMBRE 3 SN: 11.69 m2

560

SDB type 4

92 92 11

SN: 12.21 m2

182 160 11

350

WC 180

CHAMBRE 2

170

1 294

160

274

190

int.

App. 5p SN : 86.3m2

App. 4p SN : 67.2m2

int.

185 166

CHAMBRE 2

SN: 17.75 m2

350

CHAMBRE 1

370

SEJOUR - CUISINE -ENTREE 454

513

92 11 92

165

20 70 15 116

245 300

96 57

451

96 162

1 144

96 121 96

199

545

1 761

116 142 116 101 116

1345

116 37

467

190

18 intervalles

449

SN: 34.00

3 465

370

334 334

ENTREE

281

20 160

App. 5p SN : 86.3m2

1 294

SN: 12.21 m2

SEJOUR - CUISINE

SN: 6.51 m2

116

13 513

427

9 int.

LOGGIA type 2

170

495

116

145

11 132

170

213

193

SDB type 4

92 11 92

180

454

CHAMBRE 2

SN: 17.75 m2

109 90

350

CHAMBRE 1

110 16 70

132

96 121 96 57

116 37

1345 185 166

101 449

SN: 34.00 m2

364

SN: 11.69 m2

215

SN: 6.51 m2

SN: 37.82 m2 CHAMBRE 3

App. 4p SN : 67.2m2

ENTREE

116

SEJOUR - CUISINE

LOGGIA type 2

ENTREE

242

281

36 20 8 8 370

334 334

App. 4p SN : 67.4m2

SN: 13.08 m2

SN: 6.12 m2

116

CHAMBRE 2

SDB type 6

8 314 314

350

LOGGIA type 1

SEJOUR - CUISINE

SN: 41.69 m2

364 144

240 262

11 240

262

SDB type 3

ENTREE

145

192

15 11

SEJOUR - CUISINE

545

560

364 84

92 92 11

219

116 20 70 15

SN: 37.97 m2

205 186

370

ENTREE

SN: 13.16 m2

SEJOUR - CUISINE

CHAMBRE 1

314 314

CHAMBRE 2

SN: 14.05 m2

9620 50 15

545

192 192

262 240

390

CHAMBRE 2

545 1 130 132 132 11

132 11 132

390 448 406

147

SN: 6.12 m2

1 130

LOGGIA type 1

SN: 6.13 m2

50 96

406

LOGGIA type 1

406 448

364 403

334 334

166 185

92 11 92

220 242

92 11 92

106 9 126

312 312

126 11 146

92 11 92

130 20 176

2 200 362

370

350

630 350

350

370

680

630

680

1:200 Depth of fields

106

Multiples and detours

groups 1 and 3

Construction drawing, standard floor 107

505

370

350

455

350

370

2 190 132 11 132

165 11 146 8

314 314

125 106 11

92 92 11

242 220

92 92 11

185 166

314 314

105 86

132 11 132

176 11 130

328

20 1

SN: 17.37 m2

356

147 376 418

CHAMBRE 1 SN: 13.70 m2

346

51 85

244

240 262 11

63 8

11 92 92 20

630 15

370

11 130 176 11 132 132 1 127 1

356

372

350

SN: 6.14 m2

1 127 1

328

213

162

108 35

11 8

8 172 25 8

8 1 14

SN: 10.33 m2

CHAMBRE 2

SN: 15.56 m2

SN: 17.87 m2

348

316

3795

CHAMBRE 4

SN: 10.50 m2 LOGGIA type 2 SN: 6.51 m2

SN: 6.51 m2

127

LOGGIA type 2

SN: 6.51 m2

LOGGIA type 2 1

SN: 6.14 m2

1275 1

342

LOGGIA type 1

CHAMBRE 1

SN: 15.56 m2

147

CHAMBRE 1

20 342

406 448

349

330

342

372

521

CHAMBRE 2

348

453

1 1 20

304

328

453

521

SN: 13.70 m2 364

379

CHAMBRE 3

SDB type 2

SN: 35.58 m2

8 171

SDB type 2

SN: 35.58 m2

ENTREE

171

ENTREE

SEJOUR - CUISINE

SN: 65.69 m2

SDB type 9

8 905

SEJOUR - CUISINE

SEJOUR - CUISINE - ENTREE

5155

SN: 9.29 m2 280

2787

210 232

408

222 222

255 348

348

280

2 510

342 1

92 11 92

CHAMBRE 2

SN: 9.29 m2

350

92 11 92 11

220 242

1 20

521

15 625

244 1

CHAMBRE 1

418 376

3725

8 (niv.2,3,4)

310

51 85

408

SN: 17.37 m2

147

8 25 171

346

342

CHAMBRE 2

SDB type 5

346

SN: 17.77 m2

328

SEJOUR - CUISINE SN: 49.53 m2

22698

SN: 10.60 m2

CHAMBRE 1

1 8 99

1 178

342

CHAMBRE 3

11 515 262 240

SDB type 1

SDB type 5 8 98 236

App. 4p SN : 64.1m2

132 11 132

160

App. 6p SN : 130.1m2

App. 4p SN : 64.1m2

521

116 11 138

905

SDB type 7

162

213 96

116

284

51 85

310

SN: 17.37 m2 25

127 22

9620 50 15

160

CHAMBRE 2

350

CHAMBRE 3

166 1835

lles

LOGGIA type 1

312 312

SN: 13.70 m2

356

CHAMBRE 1

terva 92 11

698

86 1035

379

9 25

513 11

346

244

SDB type 1

206

92 92 11

515

25 905 8

19 in 240

ENTREE 380

SN: 10.60 m2

356

376

int.

3925 11

178

1 090

222 222

222

App. 5p SN : 98.3m2

160

178

1 222

240

162

App. 5p SN : 98.3m2

10 int.

SEJOUR - CUISINE - ENTREE

222 222

418

513

App. 5p SN : 98.3m2

162 160

11 92

147

222

342 244

698

380

262

all

1 376

v ter

346

132 11 132

SN: 49.53 m2

SDB type 1

379

App. 5p SN : 98.3m2

505

356 10

165 11 146 8

51 85

App. 5p SN : 98.3m2

SN: 49.53 m2

116 20 15 70

370

162

10 in

310

1275 1

51 85

178 162

8 160

905 8

178 513

SEJOUR - CUISINE - ENTREE

SN: 13.70

SDB type 5

8 314 314

350

SN: 6.14

698

49 16

CHAMBRE 1

LOGGIA type 1

342

372

SN: 10.60 m2

328

342

CHAMBRE 3

20 1 127 1

515

310

1 92 92 11 185 166

350 2 645

SN: 17.37 m2

SN: 10.60 m2

8 905

CHAMBRE 2

171

20 1

521

CHAMBRE 3

SN: 10.60 m2

251 88

310

25 1

162

342

SDB type 5

SN: 17.37 m2

CHAMBRE 3

698

243

680

96 8 8

CHAMBRE 2

242 220

372

SDB type 5 221

310

243

310

178

328

92 92 11

350

1 127 1

221

236

125 106 8

8 88

251

SN: 13.70 m2

CHAMBRE 1

SN: 6.14 m2

App. 5p SN : 98.3m2

SDB type 1

LOGGIA type 1

99 11

356 314 314

350

171

SN: 49.53 m2 25

178

ENTREE SDB type 1

92 92 11

244

11 515

SDB type 5

SN: 49.53 m2

262 240

3925 244

698

379

1 022 346 1

SDB type 1

ENTREE

20 10

127 15

SEJOUR - CUISINE

SEJOUR - CUISINE - ENTREE SN: 49.53 m2

SEJOUR - CUISINE

222 222

116 20 70 15 132 132 11 165 146 11

370

CHAMBRE 2

SN: 17.37 m2

1 15 127 1

328

CHAMBRE 2

380

SN: 13.70 m2

1 127 1 1

1 127 1

356

CHAMBRE 1

521

346

1 090

96 20 50 15

1 1

92 92 11

50 96

379

262 240

SN: 6.14 m2

372

515 1 090 222 222

LOGGIA type 1

380 418 376

379

147

372

418 376

380

SN: 6.14 m2

LOGGIA type 1

1 1275

147

116 20 70

20 15

70 116

16 11 132 132

11 146 8 165

314 314

106 11 125

92 11 92

150 169

334 334

166 185

92 11 92

90 8 109

334 334

166 185

92 11 92

160 11 182

92 11 92

166 185

334 334

80 99

11 92 92

11 130 172

3 600

545

495

370

108 15

Depth of fields

350

370

350

Multiples and detours

370

350

370

181:200 20

322

group225 21

Construction drawing, standard floor 109

Fold and plan(e)

Football stadium and changing rooms, Belle-Idée site, Chêne-Bourg, Geneva 2009-2015

In a sensitive site on the banks of the Seymaz River, how can a new football pitch and its associated buildings be designed to be compatible with the adjacent psychiatric hospital and cultivated fields? The concept of the project deals with the contradiction contained in the brief—which calls for a horizontal ground for the playing field to be set on a gently sloping site—by turning it into its topographical theme. The imaginary of the project is based on moving the land: flattening the football pitch will generate an embankment that maintains the maximum amount of material on the site; the fold created in the ground will distance and protect the hospital from the noise and visual impact of the sports activity. The changing room building is embedded in this protective fold, visible from the pitch and entrance side while being camouflaged on the side of the fields. The embankment against which the pitch is positioned also becomes a natural seating area for match spectators, as well as providing landscape views for daydreamers. The changing room building, which is incorporated into the land fold, is assimilated to the earth by its colour, in search for a form of discretion. Through this new relief stretched lengthwise along the contour line, an artificial landscape faces the open horizons of the site. Depth of fields

110

111

395

How does one construct and consolidate a place that will undergo a major evolution? The experience of competitions and speculative studies (or studies for future projects) enriches the architectural imaginary. Each project resets our conception of how people live and the spatial expression given to this conception. This chapter highlights an urban and/or typological issue: the balance between urban form and a mode of habitation, a balance that invokes ideality and reality, woven together in a distinctive combination. In such a perspective, the project is an opportunity to question habits and conventions, in particular by making slight shifts to a paradigm that certainly contributes to forming the identity of a place. The quality of the plan is key to the quality of a piece of architecture and how it fits into the urban fabric.

396

Weaving

397

This emblematic urban planning competition for the development of the Praille Acacias Vernets (PAV) sector, introduced a new paradigm of very high density into Geneva’s urban culture. The project brief was to resolve the contradiction between the demand for high density and a desire to keep the fabric as close as possible to the familiar dimensions of the urban grid of the surrounding nineteenth-century neighbourhoods. The urban equation was based on four small urban blocks alternating with three towers. Dimensions were a key factor: for the urban block, a housing depth of just 14 metres and

Weaving

a building height of 24 metres; for three towers reaching a maximum height of 50 metres. The size and shape of the trapezoidal public spaces are similar in scale to two historic plazas in the city, the Place de la Fusterie and the Place du Molard. The projected urban plan is based on underground water flows that connect to the Arve river, and the siting of the buildings is attentive to the importance of the “natural life” of the soil. This project summarises the sensitive balance and close interweaving the office seeks to achieve between urban nature and urban culture.

Les Vernets competition, Praille Acacias Vernets (PAV), Geneva 2013 High density in equilibrium

398

This urban planning test study stemmed from an awareness of the importance of preserving a micro urban fabric in the heart of a neighbourhood belonging to the Praille Acacias Vernets (PAV) sector that is undergoing a slow but significant transformation. What prospects could one give to this fragile pocket of city, made up of a few small houses and two small apartment buildings? Paradoxically, it turned out that these buildings of no great architectural value were in fact pioneers of the entire twentieth-century industrial development of the market garden plain of the Acacias triangle. The proposal was based first on maintaining the existing built fabric while imagining a programmatic scenario for each house and its garden according to complementary and interdependent themes: house-terroir, house-circular economy, house-workshop, house-temporary home, etc. Second, the availability of the site made it possible to envision an urban intensification driven by the idea of extending the

house theme through three new volumes inspired by the outline formed by the preserved ensemble. With designs derived from the spirit of the place, three large house-ateliers were composed by splitting the space in three to host a hybrid programme of craft and cultural activities, as well as a distinctive habitat. Two strips of buildings are thus upgraded along the Chemin de Ternier, then a third strip, in the form of an “urban forest”, is added to flank them, providing a filter of ecological value. In contrast to the large, generic urban developments in the environs, the project breathes new life into the area through a programmatic and morphological approach that appeals to the imagination, creating an inspiring and pioneering place of culture that is attuned to the city. This poetic approach to the consolidated fragment underscores a profound paradigm shift in the urbanistic vision, in which balance and intensification are the goal rather than densification.

Ternier sector study, Praille Acacias Vernets (PAV), Geneva 2019 Easy does it, making it work

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This cooperative student housing project completes an urban block on an emblematic site on the banks of the Rhône. The calm presence of the building is expressed through horizontality, following the direction of the water flow and contrasting with the vertical thrust of the poplars. Homogeneous in appearance, the building gradually reveals the variation of the programmatic design. To address the question of cohabitation between families,

Weaving

inhabitants of the clusters and students, the project proposes to make the programmes independent—in particular the student housing—while maintaining a complicity between them by means of the interior streets running parallel to the flow of the Rhône. Independence and complicity are materialised by a vertical and horizontal weaving of the circulation paths. This complex typological device seeks to foster exchanges and a lively social life in a highly compact building. Crossing and programmable arcades create an interface between urban life and the collective dynamics of a courtyard planted with trees.

rue des Falaises

“It’s not about describing people but what’s between them” Jean-Luc Godard

1:300 duplex typology 5-room/6-room

Section, internal street 1:1000 6th floor, 5th and 7th floors Ground floor

Competition for a 52-unit cooperative apartment building with commercial spaces, Les Saules, Geneva 2014 Tracking shot

400

A big house for creative minds, a place capable of initiatives that are impossible in the current normative context of housing: how does one design for changes in lifestyles over time? The typological premise is based on the idea that life is not linear and that needs change over time. The project is characterised by the search for a balance between private and shared life to be reconfigured according to residents’ aspirations. In a “cluster” spirit inherent to each apartment, the typologies are based

on large units that can be frag mented into various configurations in keeping with the evolution of expressed desires and initiatives, rather than small apartments with fixed forms. The project foresees the inclusion of a small workshop in each apartment, a space to invent, escape, make, etc. A way of offsetting the lack of ingredients found in conventional housing programmes. Due to its form and content, this large house becomes a driver of renewal in the urban block.

1:300 61/2 room cluster-type typology

1:1000

Cross section Top floor, standard floor and upper ground floor Ground floor

Competition for a 9- to 13-unit cooperative apartment building with commercial spaces, Chêne-Bourg village, Geneva 2017 Big hat

401

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What urban form can be found to acknowledge the singular position of this plot of land located on the threshold of two sites undergoing transformation, the plateau of the Eaux-Vives train station and the Rosemont craft district? A radiant cubic volume ad dresses the landscape facing the city and marks the entrance to the district. Around a corner plaza, open arcades and the entrances to apartment buildings weave a convivial urban context with the low volume of workshops inspired by the figure of the existing warehouse with its sawtooth roof. Housing units of two different statuses, respectively subsidised

Weaving

and market-rent, are superimposed and organised around a central courtyard distributing light. Thus, in a given form, the typological approach focuses on varying the dimensions specific to the two housing categories while endowing them with similar spatial qualities. The large apartments benefit from views on two sides. The most used convivial space, the kitchen, radiates on the corner of the building, while the living room is set back behind the protection of a loggia to provide privacy. Through its proportions and play on horizontality, the building functions as a landmark.

1:300 ZDLoc 5-room typology

1:1000

Section, entrance 4th to 7th floor: controlled-rent apartments (ZDloc) 2nd to 3rd: mixed housing (LUP/HM) Ground floor

Competition for a 48-unit apartment building with commercial spaces, Rosemont, Geneva 2018 Punctum

402

A number of ingredients combine and mutually enrich each other to create a stimulating cocktail in a wooded setting: an invitation to contribute to the energy and movement of this location. The challenge of this project was to create a micro-urban quality in a landscaped setting close to international organisations. The highly varied programme featured all the typical attributes of modern life: hotel, local shops, international restaurant, bar, fitness centre and housing catering for different social statuses. How could each distinct programme be articulated to form a unified whole radiating within a wooded setting? With the dynamics of the programme and its multiple activities in mind, the design sought to generate active and lively movement on the

ground floor through the flows circulating between street, plaza and garden. The project proposes a constellation of three connected volumes, with each component forging a specific relationship with the context. The hotel is visible on the urban crossroads, the subsidised housing acts as the interface between street and garden and the elevated volume of the market-rent housing—projected into the heart of the plot where it establishes a relationship with the wider landscape—is measured against the giant buildings of the extended site. The interplay of internal views between apartments is expressed through the divergent facets of the facades, which always benefit from an open angle and, consequently, multiple sightlines.

restaurant

1:300 ZDLoc 5-room typology

1:1000 4th to 6th floor Ground floor

Competition for an ensemble of 87 apartments, hotel and multiple commercial units, Le Grand-Saconnex, Geneva 2018 Moscow Mule

403

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How does one bring about a collective reinvention of each daily function? How does one intervene on a plot of land that is highly constrained by a cramped form, a steep slope and the presence of a tower built in the 1960s by the architect Max Schlup that casts a shadow over the centre of the site? A set of three volumes—vertical-high house (tower), elongated-folded house and horizontal-stretched house— gravitates around a centrality open to the landscape and gathers the residents together in a succession of interconnected terraced gardens. The dynamics of the paths differentiate the cooperative’s identity. The constellation of the three houses forms an ensemble linked by transversal passageways playing with the

Weaving

slope and views of the surrounding landscape while generating multiple walkable connections to the neighbouring district.Typologically, the building, which stretches for more than 100 metres along the railway track, is based on the idea of lifting and recessing in sequences, in a search for proportions that has resulted in a system of alternating and discontinuous passageways. The typology of the folded building takes up these ingredients by adapting them to the site’s steep slope. Thus, the collective way of life of the WOBE (wohnen besser) cooperative is visibly expressed and gives life to the place. The simultaneity of movements highlights the potential for connections between residents.

Competition for a 50-unit cooperative residential ensemble and workshops, Bienne, Berne 2019-2023 404

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“External cohabitation” while preserving the privacy of apartments and proposing terrace gardens to be shared to different degrees along with multiple paths for people to run into… or avoid each other.

MiniMax

“The strength and beauty of a system stem from the quality and number of its connections”, According to the principles of permaculture developed by Bill Mollison.

1:1500 Roof plan 1:600 Section, esplanade

405

cluster (8.5p)

D 1.5p

1.5p

2.5p

3.5p

1.5p

2.5p

3.5p

1.5p

2.5p

3.5p

2.5p

C 2.5p

2.5p

2.5p 4.5p

accès 2ème étage

passage couvert

chambre d'amis

buanderie

studio-atelier

accès piétons et vélos

studio-atelier

accès piétons et vélos

espace de travail extérieur

2.5p

buanderie

graphiste

web- réparation designer vélos

2.5p

studio-atelier

2.5p

accès piétons et vélos

espace de travail extérieur

buanderie

couturière

shiatsu co-working

espace de travail extérieur

sculpteur

architecte

yoga

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A A

place festive

Folded house A Ground floor: a high-ceilinged communal space for the cooperative B 1st floor: friends’ floor and communal laundry room

Weaving

Stretched house C 2nd and 3rd floors: collective terrace for the small apartments and private terrace for the families D 4th floor: unique floor, dedicated to the cluster, linked to the communal roof garden

1:600

4th floor 2nd and 3rd floors 1st floor Ground floor

406

A Cooperative car park, in-ground garden reserved for plants

MiniMax

B Lower ground floor: urban street feel, opening of activities to external quay, extension of working spaces C Upper ground floor: hybridisation of dwellings and workshops to be invented

D 1st and 2nd floors: Gallery-terraces, communal living room for 3 small apartments and family terraces. E Top floor: collective pavilion-terraces with full exposure to sunlight, fireplace, hives and roof vegetable gardens

Top floor: 1st and 2nd floors Upper ground floor 1:600 Lower ground floor Basement

407

409

In the practice of small-scale experimentation, the relationship between drawing and the hand of the craftsman or of the artist is direct and spontaneous. This scale is about the pleasure of assembling, of simple gestures, of touch, of good judgement, and of aesthetic research revisited for everyday uses. When one is attached to how details are crafted, it incites greater attention to the small scale in large-scale projects so as to make them into connected wholes.

410

Small scale

411

How does one reveal that a fertile soil lies dormant under the continuous asphalt of the city? Palmatifide, a giant herbarium, transposes images of Knowledge (taken from a botany manual), making them into oversized objects on which one can circulate and walk, but which can also be discovered from afar, from the viewpoint of the bridge and its surroundings. Thus, this project gives rise to two different perceptions; one, physical, through contact, the other, more abstract and distant, through the gaze. The objective here is not to “recreate” a garden—which would be a redundant exercise given the gardens that already exist in the city. Nonetheless, the concept of the garden, of a domesticated nature, remains strongly present through these simplified drawings of leaves with evocative names. The project is therefore a metonym of the garden: the cut-out shapes of the leaves, sometimes close to 4 m in size, represent the raw material on which plants can grow, liberated by the opening of the asphalt screed. This oversized succession of leaves is an “imprint” of a bookish, scientific world on another world, that of concrete. Epilogue of an ephemeral anti-garden: the project survived five years of pedestrian traffic, with passers-by growing accustomed to this discreet and singular presence under their feet, before it faded into in the memory of this prolonged moment.

Urban herbarium, ephemeral interventions, Lausanne Jardins 2003-2004

Small scale

Palmatifide

412

Palaver tree, under the beech tree; a place to be. Such is the paradox with which the urban park is confronted: on the one hand, it symbolises connection with nature, as a place of calm in which city dwellers may recharge their batteries; on the other, there have never been so many people in these urban parks, making them seem insufficient for the needs of the people who go there to find peace but run into a crowd. In this context, how does one intensify a sense of intimacy with trees? The haven of intimacy already initiated by the tree providing shade to strollers is reinforced by a circle of listening and discussion in the form of two protective rings encircling two copper beeches (one facing the CITY side, the other facing the LAKE side). Like bubbles, they create two exclusive spheres of intimacy around the tree, whose protective foliage covers them like an archaic shelter. The open ring of each site is made of stacked jute bags filled with topsoil. The interior is padded with rose madder-tinted cushions, creating a contrast and inviting people to sit. A programme of experiences and events is presented under the two beech trees throughout the summer: readings, classes, discussions, sound experiments and more.

Palaver tree, ephemeral interventions, Lausanne Jardins 2017-2019 Cambium

413

How does one accompany the automatic gestures of everyday life? The line of the sketch becomes material in the form of a continuous folded wire. An idea occurs: to replace the accessories found in a catalogue by objects you shaped yourself, inspired by a paper holder made of copper wire folded quickly, probably with the means at hand, into a vernacular construction. And so a small collection was born in a single stroke, using a folded, 3 mm steel wire, without any welding, and then chrome-plating the object: paper holder, soap dish, glass holder, toothbrush holder and light fixture.

Accessories 1992

Small scale

Lines

414

As the major public amenity at Chandieu drew near completion, a new challenge arose: how could one extend the spirit of the school and the childcare centre into the small scale, that of the children? The pavilion providing shade in the school playground and the play cabins proposed for the childcare centre initiated a collection on the theme of the “material line”. A 35 mm x 35 mm curved stainless steel tube structure, visible from the side, supports a series of solid wood slats. A family of outdoor furniture follows: shade pavilions, cabins, tablebenches for young and old, toy chest, back-to-back armchairs, as well as a planned revolving chair. The furniture has an identity specific to the break time ritual and an ergonomics that facilitates playful subversion in how it is used, the chair becoming a cabin, springboard or roundabout for example.

Seating Lines

2016, 2020 415

“It’s not the writing that’s happy, but the joy of existing that is contingent on writing, which is slightly different. This is highly paradoxical, highly enigmatic, because how is it that the gesture—so vain, so fictive, so narcissistic, so self-involved—of sitting down at a table in the morning and covering a certain number of blank pages can have this effect of benediction for the remainder of the day? How is the reality of things—our concerns, hunger, desire, love, sexuality, work—transfigured because of doing this in the morning, or because we were able to do it during the day? It’s very enigmatic. For me, in any Michel Foucault, case, this is one of the ways Speech Begins the obligation to write is manifested.” After Death Getting into the writing mindset… Withdrawing from the reality of the here and now to explore one’s inner landscape, or at least to open up to other horizons… This interpretation of the act of writing is translated into the materiality of the “treehouse”, a wooden nest wrapped in a metallic web that filters the reality of the majestic landscape to help the writer concentrate on his or her work. The interiority and intimacy of the cabin is counter-balanced by the need for the user to go outside into the open air to reach the resource areas of the building and the central library. In the context of the Maison de l’Ecriture, a highly expressive building designed by the architects Mangeat-Wahlen, our interpretation of the suspended cabin is, in contrast, very restrained: a white cube covered with an undulating textile mesh.

Writer’s cabin, Maison de l’Ecriture, Montricher, Vaud 2013-2017

Small scale

Writer – suspended existence

416

How does one create accessibility for a majestic vaulted cellar once used to store wine but now a carpentry workshop? In order to preserve the integrity of the house in its large garden, an open, hollowed-out staircase-courtyard connects to the basement while providing natural light. Windows are inserted in the old ventilation openings and a disused entrance. The coloured exposed concrete links with the facade of the house, with its exposed pebbles and natural stone window frames. The cubic volume embedded in the earth is topped by an oak guardrail resembling a garden fence. Thus, from a distance, the presence of the intervention is absorbed into familiar representations of country estates and their enclosed gardens.

Access courtyard for a workshop, Confignon, Geneva 2018-2019 Craftsman – under the surface

417

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Imagining a pavilion in a refined setting, on a gentle slope that touches the lake through a low wall and opens onto the Jura, a horizon with an ever-changing reflection, a kind of mirage. A plan conceived by observing a series of figures characterising Japanese tea pavilions: through a derivation of woven spatial configurations, it crystallises into a specific composition, developing centrifugally from an off-centre point that plays the role of climate regulator. The concept of this plan seeks to resolve the apparent contradiction of a space intended to be both continuous and defined by differentiated parts. The private, enclosed spaces are grafted as extensions of a core formed by the three square, juxtaposed living rooms. This succession of rooms offset in plan and section is bordered by a peripheral terrace sheltered by low, slender eaves. Like a hat, the roof is hollowed out to reveal the main interior rooms and perforated to bring light into the private rooms. This roof-volume is set on fine solid-wood pillars and mud brick walls; the pavilion’s theme is embodied in its four open corners. Thus, by assembling simple forms, a complicity forged with the setting is played out as an invitation to multiple appropriations.

s-Dor

140

113

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1:1000 Location 1:1000 Section, garden and horizon 1:300 Ground floor

Lakeside pavilion, Collonge-Bellerive, Geneva 2019-2022 418

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Longitudinal section

419

421

Founding intimacy

Conversations with Mireille and Pierre Bonnet

Bruno Marchand

I had two meetings with the architects in their studio, where our discussions took place in front of the “walls of sensations”. Mireille and Pierre first met while studying architecture at the École polytechnique fédérale de Lausanne (EPFL). Mireille had specialised in the sciences during her secondary school studies in Bienne. Pierre left secondary school at the very early age of 14 to enrol at the Haute École du paysage, d’ingénierie et d’architecture (HEPIA) in Geneva, a choice guided by his desire to draw. Both consider themselves to have been “makers” since their youth. Drawn more towards the sensorial than the intellectual, during her childhood Mireille created objects, worked with wool and clay, and came close to pursuing studies in ceramics. She was also interested in space, in particular its scenographic dimension, that of interior design. Pierre comes from a family background of builders, in which the architect is viewed with mistrust but which at the same time harbours an unspoken admiration for those who design. From very early on, he had quite a confident relationship with materials, notably through mechanics. He was also interested in the abstraction of modes of representation. When 11 years old, he spent a winter producing perspectives, drawing being for him a middle ground between “making” and the world of the architect, which was to gradually open up to him. From their studies at EPFL, they cite the teachings of Mario Bevilacqua, Eddy Quaglia, Vincent Mangeat, Luigi Snozzi and Eduardo Souto de Moura among others—“those teachers you still owe a small debt to”. They both connected with the “maker” spirit in Edith Bianchi’s drawing and composition class, which united them in a kind of artistic complicity. They also like to evoke the lectures at EPFL, “meetings” as they put it, and remember when Siza came to present his school in Porto, explaining the process that guided the project and sharing his doubts, an approach that took on a pedagogical value for them. After graduation, Mireille worked for six months as an assistant at Alin Décoppet and then went to Senegal to do a postgrad, focusing on African dance. She discovered another culture and other ways of working. Pierre joined her for a while for a “magnificent voyage of drawings”. When she returned to Geneva, she took dressmaking classes and enrolled in a small private fashion design school. Later, she taught draping and styling, while also designing clothes for private clients, including wedding dresses for women who didn’t like traditional styles. When starting his career, quite exceptionally, Pierre took part in four competitions in two years and won all of them. The first one was with his future partner Christian Bridel during his final year of studies. Doing a project for the Confederation immediately introduced him to practice without going through a phase of learning the ropes in an architectural office. He then won the competition to cover a section of SBB train tracks running from Saint-Jean to Geneva, this time in collaboration with two friends in Geneva, Pierre Bosson and Alain Vaucher. 800 metres of city: an exercise on how to work on the small scale within a large one. Studies, fashion design, and those competitions won and built were all decisive and contributed strongly to their training and thinking as architects. In 2000, it was the competition for the Résidence de la Rive that saw them join forces to create Atelier Bonnet Architectes in Geneva. In September 2001, a fire completely destroyed their office, located in a former joinery workshop at 5 Avenue Rosemont. In the aftermath, they found refuge just across the street, at number 6, rebuilding their practice there, where it continues to this day. Bruno Marchand, Pierre Bonnet, Mireille Adam

423

The Geneva context

Bruno Marchand

Pierre Bonnet Mireille Adam Bonnet

We approached the specificity of the Geneva context through the lens of housing, materialised in an initial project started in 2000 in Vésenaz. This project confronted us with a vast and profound typological, architectural, urban and landscape question: what can an architect contribute to housing in a context with few qualities, beset by constraints? But the housing question is also highly politicised, a struggle of interests between the property business, which wants freedom, and tenants’ advocacy groups, which are fighting to maintain moderate rents. Between these two positions, we find ourselves in a vulnerable situation, working on the project without wanting to be fully answerable to one or the other side, taking our cue from the rather virtuous attitude of the 1957 Dupont law, which responded to a pressing public need with the construction of the first housing estates on the outskirts of Geneva. Quality is fragile. Yet few people are capable of identifying what it is that constitutes quality. In the specific context of the development zone controlled by the state, housing has been reduced to quantitative aspects. The issue of quantity has overshadowed that of quality for more than ten years. Architects are bearers of the idea of desire, the desire to inhabit. Each of our housing projects has been a confrontation with this considerably standardised model. Between 2014 and 2016, along with a number of fellow practitioners and representatives of the property sector, Pierre was invited by the directors of the Cantonal Office of Housing and Land Planning to discuss ways in which to enhance quality in housing projects. For quality to exist, it must be possible to identify it and share it. The situation was fundamentally paradoxical: the architect who has understood and applies the rules is left “to work in peace”, whereas he or she produces a default, standard architecture with no added value. On the other hand, everything is made more difficult for the architect who is a bearer of values, who has things to say about housing. There was a need to find a way to encourage designers who add value to habitability as opposed to ones who are unwilling to overly commit themselves. Given the problematic nature of this equation there definitely was an openness towards possible change. But when it comes to architectural quality, it has to be said that everyone talks about it in their own way, whereas in

Scale model House II Peter Eisenmann, HEPIA 1982

Bruno Marchand, Pierre Bonnet, Mireille Adam

How can your practice be framed in the Geneva context?

424

Founding intimacy

fact, it eludes us. In the course of the discussion and in an effort to break away from the vagueness of the discourse, Pierre attempted to express the “ingredients of housing quality” through fifteen drawings 1 that demonstrated, with a set of equations, that not everything is equal. On the contrary, he argued, the differences specific to each situation should be emphasised. A quality assessment tool was subsequently developed and is now in the hands of the Architecture Commission and the Housing Office with a view to developing objective criteria to assess the qualitative dimension of standard housing. The situation has also become more balanced due to the competition system. Our projects have always resulted from a specific typological elaboration, as such drawing a plan is like writing a musical score. In this sense, typology is an art that speaks of all the degrees of domesticity and contributes to the city organism. BM

The housing question is certainly central to your relationship to the Geneva context, however it is not the only aspect. Could one say, for example, that in Geneva there is a form of identity you invoke in your work? A form of architectural tradition that connects to a broader cultural field? PB MAB

Can one really speak of a tradition? When we took the initiative of publishing the “Ensembles urbains Genève” collection through the Federation of Swiss Architects (FAS), we discovered urban ensembles of im pressive quality. This collective cultural act shares the value of the plan and the pleasure of discovering how a mode of living is designed over time. All these qualities are present, but do they constitute a common culture? Not necessarily, even if some of our colleagues have been inspired by Maurice Braillard’s buildings to design typologies that emph- asise deep distributive patterns around a large central hall. Our approach is not based on directly quoting a recognised cultural model. For each project we search for specific answers, in relation to values we consider relevant. A project is often a search that goes beyond just a commission. The Vessy apartments have a particular typology that nonetheless received a favourable response from the administrative services, who immediately expressed the wish to jointly find solutions out of curiosity for a new model. For example, the question of accessibility for the fire brigade was discussed the day after the competition. In proposing a change in the way vehicles approached the building, it was accepted that access could be provided from within the distribution plateaus, by analogy with a traditional access deck. This opened up the possibility of creating a high-quality exterior landscape design, where the fire-engine access routes are concealed and limited. As a result, the three buildings are surrounded by a generous buffer of vegetation at the foot of the facade. In the same logic, the authorities and the client responded positively to the complex economic and habitability issues 1

425

Drawings published in Interface no. 26 / Nov. 2017, Housing quality..

in order to incorporate an idea of transgressive nature into the project. We were surprised to see the extent to which this project was able to overcome the potential stumbling blocks of its typological premise, which challenges typical housing practices. A kind of contamination took place.

lives in one of these buildings, sent us a picture of his entrance hall in which children had invented an extraordinary game. Our great hope is that the use of the place will be subverted and take on another meaning. But it is not imposed, it’s not prescribed, the space is conceived as a stage left open to the residents’ imagination. We would tend to trust the suggestive: it is always possible to preserve this sensitivity, this vibration, for example by having a bench suggest that perhaps this is the spot where one can understand where one is, the place one lives in, etc. This may well be where architecture retains a poetic quality.

Designing

You sometimes invoke the notion of “founding intimacy”. What do you mean by this?

This interest in the discomfort of the blank page also shows our curiosity for subjects that have a form of complexity and uniqueness, an attitude that is reflected in the diversity of the programmes we have worked on. When we began working on a project for people with Alzheimer’s, we completely immersed ourselves in this sensitive subject, it was a new world for us. It’s the adventure of entering new fields that drives us and, in the case in question, the conditions were so extraordinary that we never wanted to participate in competitions for medical-social establishments again because we did not wish to, nor did we feel able to go through an experience of this kind again. The theme of housing is the only exception to this rule, due to our interest in typological experimentation. Our primary focus is on questioning: constantly questioning every architectural element and every architectural detail. Contrary to a good many of our colleagues, we have only done one school competition, for the Chandieu school complex, which we won. Our discovery of school programmes came late in the day as a result. After the competition, we started by drawing the classroom—just as Kahn defined “the room”. As we see it, the classroom is a workshop. It’s not a comfortable place, it’s a place that exudes a desire to make, an energy. The structure must therefore be apparent, stretching the length of the room. It’s not just a classroom, it’s much more than that. And this structural logic became the driving force for all the educational rooms in the project, right down to the pool space. In the case of housing, we are drawn to the question of going home, of arriving somewhere, of the address. For the resident, living in that place rather than another should be a source of pride. Hence the importance of the entrance halls, the stairwells and the landscaping around the building. On the “Plateau de Vessy”, the route leading residents from the bus stop to their home is unique, it’s not like equivalent routes in other neighbourhoods. The apartment must therefore be viewed as “an address”, which the architect must endow with sensorial qualities. Recently, like people watching from the outside, we noticed a birthday party taking place in the entrance hall of one of the small buildings constructed in Vésenaz. It was a wonderful moment. Afterwards, Jean-Claude Girard, who

PB MAB

“Founding intimacy” is the intimacy between two people, that is to say that we think to gether, we feel, we put questions, equations and problems on the table, and we begin to develop rough sketches and an imaginary. Each project has a story to tell, and what interests us is the desire to share that story, about that subject. It has to set it in motion though and it’s intimacy that makes that happen. We never consider a project as the only answer to a programme. It’s not just a matter of going through the menu and looking for a match with our tools and skills. The design process involves digression. For us, the important thing is focusing on the desire that may emerge from a subject, seeing then if it holds in the first stages of discussion and if, going beyond that, it still resists for a little while. If it doesn’t, then we stop there, pulling out of a com petition, for example. The essential thing is sensing an intention taking form, in other words, having something to say. In fact, the theme of a project will often emerge from the contradictory nature of the brief. We each have quite different skill sets and specific qualities. We therefore avoid imitating each other. It is important to leave room for inspiration. We enjoy pitching ideas to each other, and we need this “semi-external” viewpoint, because in reality it’s an “internal” one. We need to take turns backing each other. Each of us has his or her own world that is shared to create a story together. The small advances of the project tested through drawing come under immediate scrutiny during our discussions. When one of us has come up with something through a rather uncertain process, he or she can anticipate the reaction of the other; more often than not, we guess correctly, that’s part of the fun. But to make a project, you have to start by losing yourself, in order to deactivate any form of reflex, any form of prior knowledge; it’s therefore an art of losing oneself or of maintaining oneself in the condition of not knowing, until a conviction comes to the fore. It’s the art of asking: what do I need to do to avoid getting comfortable too quickly? Bruno Marchand, Pierre Bonnet, Mireille Adam

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Pictures, drawings

There is a very beautiful text by Robert Ireland in this volume about these images displayed on the walls of your studio, which he calls “walls of sensations”. Can you tell me about them? PB MAB

Robert approaches these “walls” from a cultural point of view, like an artist, but for us they’re something else again: all these images represent aesthetic shocks. These photos have always been taken very quickly, often when discovering a place for the first time. If we went back, we wouldn’t take the same picture. They testify to inspiring encounters and that’s why they are always in view for us. They activate an understanding of things, for one an understanding of the qualities that give a place its strength. Through these images, what interests us is that we are always facing realities that are a little beyond our reach and are a very indirect source of inspiration. We are never going to replicate them. It’s also about the need to experience the friction that occurs between things that don’t go together. These images have nothing to do with each other, they never asked to be side by side, but their proximity prompts an unexpected dialogue. It may be related to material, it may be related to form. In the presence of the hand or the halo on the Saints in Florence, we are very, very close. This one here is of Leonardo da Vinci’s hand; above it, we are in Sicily with a ring of trees, incredible! It gives off a kind of scent of the holiness of the urban space. And up here, these are daisies shot from below. These images are not closed and the fact of placing them close to each other makes them constantly interact with each other, in an infinite movement. For us, it’s extremely important to have them in view. BM

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Coming back to the question of “founding intimacy”: do you sometimes see different things in the same images?

PB MAB

Surprisingly, almost all the time. In Casamance, we had an intense and arduous experience. During a walking trip, we got lost at night in a forest; finally, by chance, we found a house where they took us in. The next day, we each wrote an account of our adventure: the accounts were not contradictory, but very different. Subjectivity is a richness to be combined. If there’s disa greement, you have to take everything you’re doing apart and piece it together again, and that’s how you work it out. Personal and profound resolutions result from dismantling and reassembling. Robert Ireland also talks about drawing, which usually plays a double role of revealing thinking and of representation. What is the role of drawing, the sketch, the rough outline for you?

drawing takes the place of the photo. Of course, the two complement each other, but a photo is never the place drawn and vice versa. Sketches are also often accompanied by comments and musings: drawing makes writing possible.

space makes us curious to a greater or lesser degree. This is probably linked to the fact that the sequences follow one another, by identity, but also by difference or contrast, and by variation. From very early on we appreciated the richness of plans that, while seemingly simple, generate movement. There is a clear filiation between our different projects on this theme. For the project in the Vessy district, we wanted everyone to have the possibility of getting to their apartment in several ways. There are no identical points of view, from one building to another, nor inside the housing distribution plateaus themselves. The staircase in the Chandieu school is the continuation of this experiment: the points of view are constantly changing according to the movements of the ob server. Yet, these multiplied effects come from relatively simple forms, a phenomenon we had already experienced in the development of the Saint-Jean project covering the train tracks. Our projects have both a landscape and an urban dimension. For example, we are always highly attentive to sequences that enable us to understand the built environment. We have been lucky to have been very frequently involved in designing public space in relation to buildings; it’s an opportunity to define the balance between nature and architecture for each context. In Vessy, for example, on the outskirts, we are not going to talk about a city that doesn’t exist. On the other hand, we want to instil an urban quality. And how can this urban quality appear? In the tension or attraction between the built bodies. And minerality helps us a lot to think “urban”. In this small neighbourhood, these built bodies talk to each other, they are connected. You could even see this project as a single building, depending on the level of abstraction you want to attribute to it.

Simple forms, complex sections

For us, it is more of a research than a representational tool. The hand thinks and translates thought. That’s how we discuss ideas, through the hand. Drawing is about searching. It is done in pen and is never amended. All our drawings, as is the case of the ones in the book, therefore show the direction we are going in but are never the end point. They are only experiments. It’s very liberating obviously because a drawing isn’t looking for a conclusion, it’s just an intermediate step. There are also observational drawings, executed while travelling, which establish the relationship between time, a place and an atmosphere. We do these drawings everywhere, while walking, on the bus, etc. Everything is possible, without any value judgement. Their value lies in capturing something, which we absorb into ourselves, that’s what’s important. This drawing of Isfahan is something we would have regretted not doing. It was too magnificent, too beautiful. The quick drawing, with its awkwardness, makes you participate intensely in the place where you are.

PB MAB

In the way you design architecture, you sometimes speak of “simple forms and complex sections”. What do you mean by this?

Indeed. In this drawing of Isfahan, we see the outline of a constructed landscape drawn as if backlit. Reality is thus immediately altered. This other drawing, depicting wind towers in Yazd, Iran, triggered an understanding of a spatial phenomenon: due to these multiple extrusions, the object constantly looks different in keeping with the movement of the observer. A sketch is also a way out of a dead end. When you get stuck, drawing is a way of getting back to essentials and prioritising problems, which is very useful. We use pen and ink. Ink is very fluid, very noble—with its deep black colour— and, ultimately, it eases the difficulty. When dealing with our heavy responsibilities and commitments, the nib—a very good word—makes things light and restores courage in the face of risk. Other drawings, such as our travel watercolours are more about seeking harmony. They are less drawings of understanding than of pleasure. For us, in this case, the

Simple forms participate in the search for an economy of means, a general economy where you have to be careful not to get lyrical too quickly. But as soon as these simple forms clash in a certain way, it generates complex registers. Above all, as it happens, when we work in section. As we see it, all the projects are a resonance of the ground. We try to understand the relief and how to make it active. Forms that are simple in plan allow for a very sophisticated manipulation in section. Our projects are very much based on this duality. In the case of the Rive medical-social establishment, the plot was on a slope and we were asked to produce a one-storey project all at the same level. This tension generated a section we would never have imagined due to the challenge of making four flat patios on a sloping plot without this conflict being felt in these same patios. Our training taught us to respect the nature of the plot, to understand the topography. This monastery-like residence, mirroring Le Corbusier’s Tourette convent somewhat, revealed the slope of the land by a horizontal line that allows the building to progressively reach the ground. At the beginning of the project, by inviting the client’s representatives to stay at La Tourette as a way of introducing them to our concerns as architects, we were able to better express the value we placed on the strength and acceptance of the site’s relief, which we would not exaggeratedly distort. At Chandieu, it was the perception of the very slight slope running the entire length of the site that enabled us to work in section. The childcare centre is spread out on two levels under the large horizontal band that in fact reveals the slope and holds the building together. This rather minute perception led us to develop the project as it is. We are deeply moved by simplicity when it generates a complex spatiality, as for example in the emotion we feel in response to Romanesque architecture. The section is also about the play of light and inciting movement. What interests us is the variety in the percep tion of spaces through movement, as we learned from the wind towers in Iran mentioned earlier. Our awareness of a

Quotation provided by Matthias Bräm, architect, 2008

In the Communaux d’Ambilly, when we discovered the term “urban unit”, we gave a great deal of thought to what we could say about these words. The “units” in this case correspond to perimeters acting as frames held together by a structuring element, a large avenue that also gave us plenty to ponder. We embarked on this competition project like students would, not only because we were a small team, but also because we tested the site’s potential with an open mind, proceeding by comparison and analogy. On the one hand, we visited towns planned in the 1960s around the outskirts of Geneva, and on the other, we compared the urban units with the arche typal morphologies of Geneva, Manhattan, Barcelona, Brasilia, and other cities. We even tested the fabric of Kairouan, a city we had just visited, with the subtle shift from street to plaza in mind. Each time we overlaid a model or an urban fabric on the footprint of the urban units, we tried to understand why it wasn’t right. Why that place was

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Don’t your travel drawings reflect a personal vision of reality? Louis Kahn’s drawings of the Acropolis are not the same as those of Le Corbusier. PB MAB

PB MAB

Did these same questions arise during the Communaux d’Ambilly project? In this case, it seems to me that you tried to find a model of rurality in a suburban area through a conceptual process of inverting the usual spatial patterns. Could you tell me about this project? PB MAB

scenario for us is to win a competition where everything is not defined, with a project that is not finished. A project entails a lot of requirements, some of which appear too early. Despite our ability to anticipate, it is vital to leave some leeway. We have therefore developed an approach we call “inductive research”, which works neither by quotation nor by analogy. We borrow relatively little from the outside because the project, as soon as its theme is set, will develop according to problems that appear progressively. In this sense, the choice of detail is made with a view to extending and/or intensifying the project intention, and sometimes even surprising it. It can come at any time and even very late, like the famous railing on the Rue du Môle building, which found its theme at the end of the construction process. At the beginning, we know that there’s an extremely important idea there to play with. Then you get to the end, and suddenly you understand what you’d like to do. And if by chance the realisation comes a little too late, we’re able to go back. It’s a very tense moment when, generally speaking, we have to be quite convincing.

not this place. It was a form of “Grand Tour” that ultimately served to better understand what is specific about this extraordinary place. In reality, we set out to understand the measurements and scale of these urban units defined in the district master plan. While doing that, we drew nearly sixty morphologies, which appear in the book, a kind of iteration of identical density, broad sweeps through the his tory of modern urban planning, executed instinctively and rapidly. This method stimulated us enormously and forced us to ask ourselves each time: why don’t we want to do this or why does this interest us? When we won the competition, we felt that the project had a very positive aura. Out of personal interest and curiosity, much later we looked at how we could extend our model to the adjacent urban units according to the principle of placing gardens on corners, all the while articulating very different morphological ingredients. With our project, working from a rather atypical form, we established a vocabulary of volumetric gradations that were taken up and interpreted on the adjacent units in order to try out other urban forms in the framework of later competitions. This is the kind of contamination that amuses us and which, in the meantime, has become widespread in many urban planning projects. Our project speaks about something great in this exceptional site. And we didn’t want an introverted fabric. The inner plaza is admittedly central, but it opens up to the landscape. On the other hand, it’s about playing with dimensions. When we visited Geneva’s large housing estates, we became aware that the scale of the buildings has gradually been reduced. In the 1980s, Geneva’s apartment blocks had an average length of 45 metres. We would have to find an intermediary scale, putting ourselves in an in-between position. How could we make the longest building possible today in this play of dimensions? In the end, the urban organism we produced is a hybrid of agricultural and urban imaginaries. It is indeed a form of inversion of the urban block, which could be likened to an agricultural unit—for more than 1,500 inhabitants—where life takes place in the heart of a mineral courtyard with domesticated gardens placed on the periphery, beyond the buildings.

Materials

Let’s now turn to materiality, an important point, as noted by Jean-Claude Girard in one of the texts in this volume, with particular reference to the production of reinforced concrete by the family company. I would like to hear you talk about this concrete, in your own words.

PB MAB

This comparative work, developed in depth, could be likened to a “patient search”. In this book, Frédéric Frank talks about this search in terms of temporality. How important is the time of research for you? PB MAB

Since the beginning of our studies and continuing into our practice as architects, we have had the impression of always being in countdown mode. How much time do we have left to establish this or that aspect of the subject? What Frédéric Frank points out is that even when we establish a subject, we are not necessarily satisfied, and we’ll have to come back to it. The ideal Bruno Marchand, Pierre Bonnet, Mireille Adam

of the precision of the formwork and the randomness of the atmospheric conditions in which the implementation takes place, which allows for roughness. It’s not about achieving the almost abstract marble concrete that other architects look for. In counterpoint, white prefabricated pillars, tinted with titanium oxide, say: “We come from a perfect world, where everything is cut and controlled”. The desired effect is the confrontation between the two modes of implementation, the meeting between the column and the base, a dialogue between two expressions of the same material. Compared to buildings that are wrapped in an insulating envelope for which a suitable cladding material must be found, we make rocks with pebbles. The building directly expresses its structure, it is very frank. There is a kind of resistance to the context. Surprisingly, this brought up an issue we hadn’t thought of: due to the warmth of the colour combined with the impression left by the wood grain, this concrete overcame an antagonism rooted in the collec tive imagination. There is a sensuality in this search for colour that developed very slowly, and it is very much based on that, which surprised us a lot. Although a dominant tint emerges, if you get very close, the concrete looks like the skin on a face, with subtle shades of colour bringing the surface to life. The type of formwork has a very big influence in the chemical reaction, just like those whisky barrels that used to be wine barrels that will then influence the taste of the whisky! The plasticity of concrete is also of great interest to us, especially in the case of forms that are both simple and complex. One of our references is a village in the south of France with an evocative name, “Murs” (Walls). All the houses are made of stone, which is very beautiful. Suddenly we realised: it’s all one wall! The same material unfolds continuously, successively becoming a cultivated garden wall, a domestic garden wall, a house.

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But in your work, there is not only concrete. You also use other materials, such as wood or metal. What do these materials mean to you?

First of all, there is an attraction to minerality. Like the Braillard buildings of the 1930s with their capacity for resistance, their solidity. Then there is an opportunity to make use of very favourable conditions, those of using the family masonry business. For us, concrete is not an object of fascination. We are interested in the concrete of the 1960s because it was often implemented with incredible frankness! But the question is not whether one appreciates this heroism of material or form, but rather how one appropriates it. For us, it’s a cast, fluid matter that becomes solid. There are so many associations in the imagination relating to matter changing state and the role of the mould. There’s also an interest in participating in the process that leads to that point. It’s not an industrial product, but a fundamentally manual, handcrafted product. The first building in Vésenaz already raised this question, which takes on a dual form and in which we considered concrete as earth. It is a reference to anchoring to the earth, to the ground. What interests us is the combination

These projects carried out in the family context in fact represent a constraint that we have turned into an opportunity. Furthermore, we use materials to find a balance with a context, a resonance with something. Our projects favour unity through materials, we seek to express the integrity of the materials without altering their character or appearance. In stairwells and apartments, we have even dispensed with applying a protective film on the rough concrete, and in this sense, we literally inhabit the structural frame. You have to be able to feel that the material is alive. It is not only about concrete, metalwork also plays a key role that undergoes a patient and fascinating evolution. The presence of metal introduces refinement, a rhythmic vibration and a physical contact related to domesticity. It finds its own expression in the development of each project.

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PB MAB

As for wood, it contributes to a form of warm nobility. In the case of the Chandieu school, for example, it plays a specific role for the pupils. Maple can be found in all situations where there is hand contact: the handrail, the horizontal sides of benches and all the furniture, like a gentle and benevolent friend accompanying the pupils. We are experimenting with wood construction and all that it conjures up in three ongoing projects, a way of deepening the furniture—building relationship.

Looking to the future

Let’s end our discussion by turning to the future. What are your current concerns and how do you see the future?

PB MAB

We are looking for alternatives, although without focusing on the current doxa. We try to be broad-minded in our view of societal and ecological change. Questioning our comfort level, or even how we might envisage a slight shift in habits linked to our lifestyles that can have multiple positive consequences. We are interested in these issues, but we are torn between observation, which allows us to maintain a certain distance before taking on a new problem, and the need to experiment. The current period lacks nuance and subtlety in the search for balance. Beyond the technological stakes involved in construction, it is first and foremost the relationship with the ground that represents a crucial issue in urban development. As such, our projects, particularly the Communaux d’Ambilly one, are closely linked to the presence of plants and evapotranspiration, which acts on climate regulation; and for this reason, we are very concerned to preserve and integrate open spaces as a fundamental resource. In light of a current trend where people want to see stronger responses to environmental issues and issues of “living together”, as pushed by cooperatives in particular, we are looking for an architectural imaginary accompanied by typological devices that is capable of engaging with and directly concerning residents, one that acts as considerately as possible as it were. When referring to these new trends, we can also evoke the question of mimicry or its anthropological dimension. Human behaviour has an incredible power to influence. Where architecture is concerned, perhaps that is what makes us love certain cities, certain forms and ways of building, which in fact constitute the culture of an era. And at the same time, we are careful to always cultivate a form of distance, to observe what is going on. Bruno Marchand, Pierre Bonnet, Mireille Adam

We can also call this fashion. And fashion is adopted more often out of an identity-related reflex than for the questions it raises. Why are we changing fashion in a broader sense? To appropriate a fashion, one should at least have understood its essence. Sometimes, we are still surprised to observe in our own context the extent to which individuals, in spite of themselves, ends up resembling each other, or another person taken as an example. It’s phenomenal, and rarely consciously admitted. There is something here that attracts our attention, a desire to identify and decipher the symptom, such as the preponderance of the environmental question, or the return of a form of ornamentation. Perhaps the antidote to this game of mimicry lies in the conviction that one can continue to work with the emotions one has as an architect. If we turn to history, this is exactly how Alberti put it in this little-known formula: “chance + experimentation + reason = beauty”. It may be that everything that forges a “connection” adds to the value of architecture... 432

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Guiding the Gaze by the hand

“(...) the question is in itself so difficult that it cannot be discussed, let alone resolved, because there is only one thing that is noble, which is its foundation, and that is drawing, and all the other reasons put together are weak in comparison.” 1 Paragone

In 1547, the Florentine humanist Benedetto Varchi undertook an “opinion poll” among high-profile artists, including Michelangelo and Jacopo da Pontormo. The question he put to them was whether painting or sculpture was the more noble of the arts. This was the Paragone, now considered a classic debate. Pontormo’s subtle answer implied that each discipline has its own, complementary qualities and that it would be a pity to impose a hierarchy among them. It was indeed a curious and factional dispute at a time when Buonarroti, da Vinci, Bramante, Brunelleschi et al. were concurrently practising these two disciplines, among others. Giorgio Vasari’s great chronicle, Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors and Architects—first published in 1550, shortly after the debate took place, but it had been in progress for several decades—also attests to this trend (and Vasari was himself a painter and architect). However, the very order in which his title lists the disciplines also implies a hierarchy. Returning to Pontormo’s response to Varchi, we can see that—in order to elegantly sidestep what he views as a sterile and partisan debate in which each participant merely defends his own discipline—he asserts his conviction that one should seek what unifies the arts rather than what separates them. Having stated his position, he then invokes the mother of all the arts: drawing. During the Renaissance and probably right up to the nineteenth century, drawing enjoyed a particular status for it how it related to the sphere of the intimate, serving as a preparation for more fully realised works, and above all as a tool of artistic investigation. Generally speaking, artists did not consider that drawing could be a finished product, hence the strange heuristics of its status, which only changed belatedly thanks to the renewed curiosity of art historians interested in better understanding artists’ processes. Nowadays, we are far from the practices of a Rodin writing out a shopping list for his assistant on the back of one of his watercolours… On discovering the innumerable boxes containing more than one hundred sketchbooks of drawings by Mireille and Pierre Bonnet, one can only wonder, first of all, about the quantity and content of the sketches, drafts, drawings and sometimes watercolours and washes concealed within, and, furthermore, about the fact that these notebooks are sealed. While they are considered as tools and are consulted, re-examined and often photocopied, as a means of mapping out the development of the project, they nevertheless have a special status: “unfinished” projects or ideas, ongoing processes, etc. 1

Jacopo da Pontormo, “Letter to Benedetto Varchi”, (18 February 1548), quoted in Benedetto Varchi, Vincenzo Borghini, Pittura E Scultura Nel Cinquecento, (ed. Paola Barocchi), Sillabe, 1998.

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The very diversity of these notebooks attests to this type of thinking: notes on a project, drawings made during a trip or more simply during a journey by public transport, or even annotations during a lecture; all this is included in the notebooks, the only order to which is their chronology. There is a powerful intimacy to the notebook and when confronted by the contemporary gaze—one that commands premium prices for da Vinci’s Codices— the question of its private nature remains insoluble. Indeed, how does one exhibit a notebook (whose pages cannot be leafed through) to the public if not by dis mantling it and exhibiting it both front and back? These display systems in which the separate sheets float in space, sandwiched in Plexiglas, are somewhat less than convincing. Decontextualising the logic of the notebook destroys its intimacy. Idea

Another essential concept in the Cinquecento, theorised by the Roman mannerist artist Federico Zuccari, is that of drawing as an intention. The latter speaks of disegno interno as idea, and disegno esterno as forma, emphasising the dual meaning of disegno (drawing) as both “design” and “intention”. It is not insignificant to note that in explaining his theory, Zuccari associates his definition of drawing with Neoplatonist thought and describes drawing as the sign of god within us (disegno: segno di dio in noi). Our contemporary perception easily allows us to follow this logic and accept this interpretation of “intention”. Indeed, drawing can be the open form of a project. It “essentialises” rather than materialises, in the sense that it gives a primary form (forma) to a thought (idea). In contrast to a rendering—where, to take the example of the Renaissance, an image is at least materialised if not entirely finished—drawing is an instantaneous process sometimes superimposing stages, with its alter ations (pentimenti), its accentuations and the con scious risk of mistake. The Latin word determinare means “to mark limits”. This determination, so to speak, is a utopian concept because it is primarily an imagined projec tion, a way of “drawing without the eyes” as when one closes them in order to clarify a thought or grasp an idea. Yet we know that only a part of it will be realised and constructed. Opportunity

“(…) I do not know yet, but I foresee that I will have known. In this antinomy lies all the ambiguity of free will: it is never proven after the fact that things could have turned out differently (...) otherwise, why had they not been foreseen?” 2 Closing one’s eyes means seizing the opportunity of an idea that presents itself, trying to discern it, and then to define it by the stroke of the pen. This search, which is never guaranteed to succeed, consists in making oneself receptive to the problems and focusing on the unique moment. This state of responsiveness sometimes takes the form of a game. Robert Ireland

Ancient Greek culture had a deity who represented fortune—Tyche—whose name could also be translated as chance. In the search for an idea, it is fundamental to be open to inspiring structures. Being able to an- notate in any situation implies a constant discipline in order to favour the “right moment”. In other words, it is a matter of making oneself receptive to problems and “guiding the gaze by the hand”, as Mireille and Pierre Bonnet put it. Mnemosyne

This collection of ideas, of transcribed sensations and observations, recorded page after page in the notebooks, constitutes an immediate memory of situations: an impression. The drawings contained in the innumerable notebooks of Mireille and Pierre Bonnet, even more so than photographs, make things interesting due to their intentionality. Taken as a whole, they are an inexhaustible resource that undergoes a “transformation” when transmitted into the project through the use of tracing paper rolls. These rolls are used not only to refine and clarify architectural intentions, but also to transmit concepts to the studio’s architectural team. A whole process of exploring variants and possibilities is elaborated on the basis of these rolls. The proposals are “rolled out” in the strict sense of the word, bringing to mind the “frieze” of photographs in their office. A thread—of thought—is then deployed on a medium that contrasts with the notebook, since the latter is composed of sequences, while the roll associates the stages in a chain. Tracing brings things into focus by reworking the sketches from the notebooks while generating an intensification and iteration of the ideas sketched out beforehand. Tracing, as an element of incorporation, becomes a continuous memory, an archive of the Bonnet studio’s work, a device to provide an overall vision that, in essence, sends us back in a loop to Aby Warburg’s Mnemosyne Atlas, as already referred to in the other text I contributed to this book. Indeed, the inventor of “the law of the good neighbour” had the intuition of associating the goddess of memory—Mnemosyne—with his own work of organising images. 2

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Vladimir Jankélévitch, Le Je-ne-sais-quoi et le Presque-rien, Tome 3, La volonté de vouloir, Paris, Editions du Seuil, 1980, p. 14.

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Atelier Bonnet Architectes

Pierre Bonnet

Born in Geneva, graduated from EIG in 1983 and EPFL in 1989 (M. Bevilacqua and E. Souto de Moura). Internships in Lugano (BKQ: Bernegger, Keller, Quaglia) and Rome (V. De Feo). Having won a competition while still a student, he set up as an independent architect in 1988, associ ated with Christian Bridel until 1995. In 1989, he worked for three months at the Jean-Jacques Oberson office in Geneva. Following a competition to cover the SBB train tracks in St-Jean, he partnered with Pierre Bosson and Alain Vaucher from 1991 to 2000. In 1995 he became a member of the FSA (Federation of Swiss Architects) and joined the committee of the Geneva branch, participating in 2005 in the organisation of the “Geneva 2020” competition on Geneva’s PAV sector. He has participated regularly on juries for architectural competitions since 1995, and was also a member of the Canton of Geneva’s urban planning commission from 2005 to 2011. In the field of teaching, he was an assistant to Prof. Patrick Berger at EPFL from 1995 to 2000, visiting professor at the HES in Geneva from 2007 to 2008 and then at EPFL in 2012 along with Mireille Adam Bonnet. He frequently contributes as an expert at various architecture schools: EPFL in Lausanne, Paris Belleville for Profs. Henri Bresler and Janine Gagliano, HEIA Fribourg, HEAA, IAUG and HEPIA in Geneva. In 2000 he founded Atelier Bonnet Architectes with Mireille Adam Bonnet. He became a member of the Werkbund SWB in 2009, was appointed to the board of the Braillard Architects Foundation in 2015, and since 2018 has been a member of the Cantonal Advisory Commission for Territorial Planning in the State of Geneva (CAT). In 2017 he launched the publication of the “Ensembles urbains” collection within the Geneva section of the FSA. Mireille Adam Bonnet

Born in Bienne, Mireille Adam-Bonnet obtained her degree in architecture from EPFL in 1989. Internships at Chavornay (Thibaud-Zingg), Lugano (Negrini)and Paris (Archistudio) in 1987 and 1988. After a period as a research assistant at EPFL with Prof. Alin Décoppet in 1989, she left to do a post-grad in development research in Thiès, Senegal from 1989 to 1990. Passionate about clothing design, she trained in fashion and graduated as a fashion designer from Coupe-Circuit in Geneva in 1992. She created custom-made clothes for private individuals from 1992 to 2000 while occasionally collaborating with Pierre Bonnet. From 1994 to 1997 she taught draping and fashion design at the Coupe-Circuit school. In 2000, she founded Atelier Bonnet Architectes with Pierre Bonnet and devoted herself to architecture. In 2008 she became a FSA member, joining the committee of the Geneva branch in 2012 and representing it as co-president from 2017 to 2019. Since 2008 she has worked as an expert for competition juries. She has been involved in teaching architecture in various ways: as a guest professor with Pierre Bonnet at EPFL in 2012, at HEPIA in 2013 within the framework of the FAS, then as an expert in undergraduate and graduate programmes. In 2017 she launched the publication of the “Ensembles urbains” collection within the Geneva section of the FSA. 438

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