SØREN PHILMANN
PHOTOGRAPHY HAMPUS BERNDTSON & LIZETTE MIKKELSEN
INTERVIEW MARIEKE MERTS
PIHLMANN STANDS IN THE CENTRE OF A SELF-RECYCLED BUILDING, A PHYSICAL TESTAMENT TO HIS OWN PRACTICES AND BELIEFS. ON A ZOOM CALL THAT IS AS ENLIGHTENING AS HIS WORK, WE DISCUSS THE CONCEPT OF MAKING AND DISCOVERY, UNDOING AND REINVENTING, AND QUESTIONING HOW, AND WHERE, WE PLACE VALUE.
So, I wanted to start the interview by asking about what drew you to architecture in the first place. I was recently in Connecticut at Philip Johnson’s Glass House, and a friend of mine who works in architecture messaged me to say this was the building that made them realise at eleven years old that they wanted to be an architect. But what was it for you? What drew you to this practice?
I’ve been asked this question many times, but I don’t think there is an easy answer to it. I always enjoyed just building stuff. Even back in kindergarten, making small cardboard elements, or doing my own terrace or stuff like that. Just to build things, have things in my hands. I find that very relaxing. But at the same time, I also enjoy the academic life rather than being on a construction site. So, I think architecture is, in many ways, the perfect balance.
And was your journey into architecture very linear? Or did you ever branch out into different practices?
It was very linear. But there was a point at the end of my bachelor’s degree, beginning of a master’s, where I was starting to do. I was starting to paint, and was pursuing that for a shorter period of time. And I also got some of my paintings exhibited, and I had my own show. One thing that I’m very fascinated by is the idea of what or why I do things I do. Like trying to establish my own methodology.
What is it that I’m interested in? I’m really interested in trying to describe that, and I don’t know why it’s so interesting to me to do that, because it’s literally just a recipe. I don’t necessarily need the recipe because I’m doing it already, but for me, it’s a way to live, to solidify. And I think, in the very short time when I was doing paintings, it was also a way to enhance my own methodology. To be more precise, because you are kind of set free from all the limitations in architecture, and I could work with the same ideas quicker and with a direct output.
What are your biggest limitations within architecture, would you say? Is there anything within the practice that’s a big limitation? Or as a person?
Limitations imposed by yourself, or the most important limitation of all, is that you don’t do anything as an architect. You don’t build, you know? If you’re an artist, you are actually the one making the painting. I feel that maybe it’s a bit of the same frustration as a film director, you’re not the guy filming, you’re not the one acting, you’re not doing. You’re yelling and writing stuff down, not really doing anything. And I think it’s the same with architecture, that I tend to convince myself that I’m building. I like to think of what I do as I’m building, but I’m not doing, I’m not building anything. I’m barely drawing anything anymore, like I’m just talking.32 33
I never considered that the architect can look at your finished structure at the end of the day, but they didn’t physically contribute to it. I find that disconnect so interesting.
I think, and I also see there’s a tendency generally in architecture, and at least in Denmark, that people want to get back to the basics. They are so interested in the craftsmanship, they’re interested in materials. They want to understand the logic behind things. Why do we build the way that we do? It seems like more and more people at the architecture school here are taking a year off just to study to become, for example, a carpenter, and finding very physical ways to engage with materials.
How beautiful, what a resistance to AI. So, the theme for this issue is transition, which can be applied to our personal and professional lives. Are you currently in a state of transition? Or how do you see the state of architecture right now, is the industry transitioning? Do you think we’re going backwards or forward?
Oh, we’re definitely transitioning. Yeah, 100%. I think like there’s really a paradigm shift in architecture right now. First of all, it’s an acknowledgement, which shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone, but it does come as a shock for many that we are building in a way that is horrible on so many levels. The way that we treat existing resources and architecture, the way that we cultivate and use new resources, our end goals, everything is just incredibly wrong, in my opinion.
One of the things that I see as a common reason for why we are here right now is that we have not been aware of energy consumption at all. There’s also been a tendency that what we consider as being luxurious, or what we consider as being comfortable, is on many levels, being driven by fossil fuels.
It’s all about reducing the amount of friction in architecture. So get rid of all thresholds. Get rid of all the different climate zones. Get rid of all the things that are different, just to get one homogeneous surface, even on floors, walls, ceilings, the exact same humidity, exactly the same temperature, no matter what time of the year.
So all the normal changes, like vernacular building topologies, have already always been adapted to. As I see it, it’s probably some of the most beautiful building topologies, because they are simple. They are direct consequences of what kind of resources were available at a current place and current time, and they are put together and assembled in a way that takes the climate context into consideration to make shelter. And of course, the building topologies develop differently all around the world. For many reasons - good reasons - I think what we are constantly looking for in a globalised world is a universal product that can be applied everywhere in the world, no matter the differences in climate context, no matter the differences in materials that are available, because you can just ship in the materials we want.
Concrete is the perfect example. We managed to develop this recipe, which is highly efficient. It can withstand all kinds of climates. You can even build with it underwater. It works everywhere. And the reason why it is so fantastic and so horrible at the same time is that you don’t need any understanding of a local community, of a local climate context at all, to build a company. You can just build with it, and it will work, and it will stand. But if you build in Denmark, for instance, compared to the traditional wood, compared with Norway, which is slightly more North, then we have a higher amount of humidity here in Denmark, meaning that there’s a high risk of mould. And you can see that in how we are treating the wood compared to how they built in Norway, which is just a couple of kilometres away. And you think about those smaller distances, how much it changes the way that we build with some of the same resources, then that fine feeling where we respond to a certain setting is completely off the table. And it seems that everybody who is also researching is now looking for a substance, a substitute for concrete. They want to find another universal, generic component that they can scatter all around the world and build everything out of it. Easy, simple, so that you don’t have to understand something. I think that’s the biggest issue.
That’s really interesting, I’ve never thought about concrete in this way. But touching also on the future and how we develop things, what has been the most exciting innovation that you’ve seen recently, in terms of architecture? Something that made you think “wow, this could really contribute to something better”.
I think the change in people’s understanding of what is valuable is so important. But I think if I should point out, like one specific thing, that I was working with when we did the (Venice) Biennale contribution, was that researchers, engineers, mostly in university, are developing ways to use scanning methods. To look into existing concrete structures and thereby extract information about the material capacities. At least in a Danish society, if you have something that already exists, for example a building from the 50s, then it’s very difficult to use it again, because you have to meet the standards of today’s building regulations. And if you don’t have the actual information about that, then you will have to just consider it as waste, which is the reason why people are then tearing down buildings. This is, of course, super stupid, because if you have something that was the standard since the 60s and works perfectly, then we should keep it.
We have this distinction, it’s very black and white: if you are suddenly protecting a building, then everybody’s like, don’t touch it. Even if it’s from the 1700s and has a way higher risk that some of the load-bearing structures, or is way more fragile. But then everybody argues that we have to protect it, and we shouldn’t do anything new to it. We should just repair it as it was back in the 1700s. But if you do that with a more modern structure, which is more robust and heavier, there are way more resources that go into it. People say we can’t calculate it. Let’s throw it out. And what they do is that they develop methods to scan and extract information, and can say almost exactly what the material properties are like. What is the tensile strength of a concrete component? What is the tension strength? The compression strength? So by that, we actually have the amount of information that we need in order to keep it.
And then what is inspiring you at the moment? Like, what have you come across recently that has really inspired you and is driving you?
If you look at architecture traditionally, it has always been about going out in nature. A traditional understanding of nature, harvesting materials, processing them, building something with them. Then, there is a direct link between the final result and the resources that were present. We’ve been doing that for thousands of years, and now we’ve built so much all around the world. And most of the things that we’re building today, are being built in areas where there are already buildings. At least in most Western countries, we haven’t really understood what we have. We’re not really good at reusing things of value, existing things. It’s easier just to tear down, start over again.38 39
And what I’m interested in is to take that big jump from still looking at it very linear way, going out in nature, processing things, using it in the construction industry, and just going to look at the existing buildings and see: how could you create almost an internal loop of materials that are just staying within the buildings already? Suddenly, something that originally was dug up as clay and burned becomes a brick, becomes a pavement, becomes an arch, and then it can stay and function for thousands of years. But just being reprocessed, reused in different ways. If architecture managed to do that step, that would be the biggest response to this.
Like an anthropocentric world that we are in right now in architecture, that we are literally accepting: well, it doesn’t make sense to go out and just take new resources anymore. Let’s do it with the things we have. And I think a completely different and way more interesting kind of architecture will come out of it, because suddenly you have to deal with not just the material qualities, but also their former past - small traces from its former use, so suddenly it becomes way more complex.
And I feel like that whole ethos you just described can be applied to so many things within society these days. Our relationship with clothing, for example, and our constant need for newness. I can really see how that could apply to many cultures as well. I could see it working in Africa. I could see it working in so many different societies and industries. In many African societies, they’re way better at it.
Yes, it’s something that I always find inspiring when I go home to South Africa, the amount of creativity and innovation and output vs the availability of resources. I often think about how limitation affects, and even pushes, creativity.
Creatives are often looking for their own limitations, like setting up constraints in order for them to thrive. It’s not a question of limiting ourselves. It’s a question of ourselves. It’s a question of finding other ways of giving value to things.
Yes, absolutely. That’s such a beautiful sentiment, which, again, can be applied to so many different relationships and aspects of society.
Absolutely.