I think the term Home can only be defined as an object, perhaps as matter &mdashMartin Heidegger talks about these issues when he asks when something is 'matter' and when something is 'thing'. The difference between subject and object disappears in the concept of Home. It is another world. It would be beautiful if the house lived with you and you lived with it; that would be home. I am working on such a case [Caminada shows us a design in progress for houses with multi-purpose spaces and different climatic zones]. I live or work with the house, for example, by regulating the indoor climate &mdashclosing a window or a door at night&mdash and in that way, I interact with the house. Hence the idea of different climatic zones inside the house &mdashnot having the same temperature everywhere&mdash because dealing with these kinds of circumstances is what makes you enjoy them. Making the house turn into home.

Vrin is my land, although my homeland could easily have been somewhere else. But perhaps Vrin is my land because I am in close contact with its people, or I am part of what happens there. I can talk to my neighbour, so he becomes my sounding board, an important concept for us1 which is different from the echo. With an echo, you shout something and that sound bounces back, unchanged. With resonance, on the other hand, you have the feeling that what you project is processed and returns transformed. Resonance implies having-something-to-do-with-someone. When the same thing happens with the house &mdashwhen it becomes an interlocutor who also participates with you&mdash the house ceases to be merely matter, a mute object. It is no longer a simple thing, like a beautiful object. Because the concept of Home goes beyond that: it is thing and it is person, as if it were a chemical dissolution. This interaction intrigues me, in relation to the landscape as well, a context in which Bruno Latour speaks of the 'quasi-object' and the 'quasi-subject'. Home is a very special place.

Identity

Identity/Unmistakability. The Vrin identity: continuity. Type. Topos. Differences.

Identity is lasting. Something that is highly valuable can lead to identity. And it can be created. But how does identity come about? I never wanted to build anything extraordinary in Vrin. I have experienced the place; I have lived in and observed it. I know it. It has incredible power, like memories. Unlike places that are heavily influenced by tourism, hardly anything has happened here. Vriners have always lived like this in their day-to-day lives, in the here and now, although people have always wanted to go beyond this and aspire to a better world. I adopted that attitude as well. I told myself that I wanted an ongoing development of this place, and that anything that diverges from this aspiration, or doesn’t match it, detracts from the strength of the place. Vrin is not identical to anything else. Being the same as something else cancels out the possibility of serving as a model. A model is always the same as itself. A model is the opposite of Type. Types vary, they change. Similar types of houses can be found all over the Alpine region, for example, but each type can be distinguished from the others by the way it adapts to the conditions that influence its place &mdashthe way the wind blows, for example, or how it varies according to the climate&mdash and that is the Topos. Actually, topos means 'doing the right thing for the place'. Type is the notion of an ideal; it’s what has worked for a long time. The central corridor with rooms on either side, for example, is a recurrent type of Alpine house, in both stone and timber. Houses are either built of stone, timber or other materials, which is a response to the climate and the natural features, in all of which people also play an important role. So if in a certain place certain things have traditionally been used in a very special way, that circumstance has marked the place; it has identified it culturally. That is what is really beautiful: the interrelation between nature and culture, the prevention of its breakdown. I believe that identity is a force, and that it is perceptible as such. That’s why identity and difference are such close concepts. You could say that there is no identity without difference, nor difference without identity. Identity is also renewal. Identity is about working on values.

Repetition

The power of repetition. The meaning of repetition. Learning through repetition.

We learn most when we repeat our work in the same way. If you do one thing today and something else tomorrow, you won’t notice what has changed. It’s about noticing the changes, tracking them. If you have been working continuously on something for more than 30 years, you notice every tiny change. Someone looking in from the outside won’t notice those changes. They will tend to only see the surface, not the substance. That’s why I always tell my students to go out into the world, but to try to understand why something is the way it is. Because the reason won’t be about a question of taste. In my opinion, once you have managed to grasp and understand something, you lose interest in copying it. The issue suddenly becomes an ethical or moral one. To lead people to the point where they at least try to understand is a big achievement. It’s also very important to pay attention. Anyone who is really good at one thing will also be able to master the Other. When you have arrived at an understanding of one kind of building, it will also be easier to understand other, different ones. It is about affinities: although some things may seem totally different, in many respects they are also the same.

Change

Yesterday evening, we went for a walk in Vrin and we asked ourselves whether it would be feasible to renew the treatment of the wood in your Stiva da Morts with linseed oil, casein and lime.

I am interested in the way materials age, but also the importance of their choice and the observation of their changes. I am fascinated by all of that. The beauty of ageing through the action of the wind, the sun and the rain, but also the importance of care. All those factors have to do with the sense of value. I often wonder when we should renew a facade. We all appreciate people who take care of their appearance. It’s a sign of appreciation for their own body, and the same goes for architecture. Ageing has to do with topography, construction and materials, but also coincidences, things that happen, emotions and transformations.

Attitude / Inspiration

Inspiration by comparison. The satisfaction of dealing with other subjects and their utility in architecture.

Interdisciplinarity, an important issue some years ago, involves making up for gaps in one’s knowledge. So today’s architecture should be social as well, of course! But I am much more interested in the issue of transdisciplinarity, of trying to respect the different disciplines in their own right, and working on creativity from them. That is the role of architecture, the social realm and art. Of course the study of other disciplines can make a valuable contribution to architecture &mdashwhat is art, what is a good film, etc.&mdash but I think that we should work with the tools of architecture as such. The mission of architecture is to build, and building is the task of the architect. Along with the aesthetic dimension, building means detecting today’s problems and discussing them, as in the case of climate change, for example. Now we have to make every effort to reduce CO2 emissions, so I ask myself, “What can architecture do to contribute to this debate from its own particular realm?” I am firmly convinced that we will not be able to arrive at an acceptable solution with technology alone. Technology should be regarded as a complement. It is important to get new concepts across to people, that they can use to detect the qualities of change. In that way, they will be perceived as added value, not as something that requires relinquishment. The architectural response to climate change should, first and foremost, be through spatial solutions.

Philosophy

Philosophy and references.

Philosophical issues interest me on hindsight. First I have an idea about a house I want to build, and then I read Heidegger, Kant and others. That reading influences the way I think, and it has repercussions on my work. When I get involved in something, I am interested in what I can draw from Art but also Art in itself, of course, . Although philosophers and artists usually can’t provide a specific answer for what I’m looking for, they do give me something. The use of extrinsic references is somewhat similar: I try to understand them, not take them literally. Again, I insist, if you understand something, you lose interest in copying it. Those references can come from many sources: from history, from buildings, from biological forms, from art, from anywhere. In a powerful project, the references you choose blend together, and they disappear from view.

Freedom

Degrees of freedom.

The feeling of freedom is only manifested at certain moments. Freedom also needs limits; it requires different degrees. There is a difference between limited and unlimited freedom. At some point you have to understand that you are only free up to a certain point, that there is no such thing as absolute freedom. If you have a family, good friends and things you value &mdashnature&mdash you also have responsibilities, because you are only free in a limited way. When you live in a place with people you care about, you are never really free. If you want freedom to emerge, you have to set certain limits &mdashpeople are unable to act without limits&mdash but too many rules only lead to what is pre-defined. We have to leave room for novelty, and make it possible, predictable and even unpredictable. This is what I imagine when I think about democracy. My impression is that previously in Vrin, I had much more freedom; shall we say, more of a free hand than I do now. Here, twenty years ago, I could still do a lot of things, there was a lot of movement, people expected something of me and I tried to live up to their expectations. Now, everybody seems to be comfortable, saturated, they are a bit satiated. And maybe I also get on people’s nerves a little bit here. I have to put up with it. So do they.

Independence, autonomy.

If I want to be in a relationship with someone, to discuss something with someone, they have to have their own identity, perhaps their own will as well, and so should I, otherwise no relationship will emerge. A relationship requires autonomy and independence. Similarly, a context that leaves its mark has to be based on autonomy. Architecture doesn’t emerge from an autonomy that is restricted to itself, but from the autonomy of the place, fed by diverse sources, i.e., from the autonomy provided by the local context, its conditions, and also by outside influences. Autonomy and proximity are what, create the free space in a certain place that is necessary for an architecture of resonance to emerge.

The unexpected

Tolerate what was not envisaged from the outset. It’s not a question of failure but a break with perfection: transpositions. Like the order of the pillars in Pontresina, for example. Displacements... Is that where the magic is?

I think that 'break' is what makes everything tolerable. Absolute perfection is hard to endure. It can be hard to live with someone who knows how to do everything well. I find the subtleties of imperfection extremely important. Of course you have to be careful not to produce too much imperfection, because you can easily go to the opposite extreme and spoil the work. Again, you need certain rules, and to ask yourself how much imperfection would be tolerable. In any case, when the unexpected 'vibrates', things come to life and they create an atmosphere of their own. Perhaps it is a question of ambiguities, of a different legibility. But there are also mighty designs in which clarity has a decisive effect. Projects designed for something very special, which can only be justified in that way, as in the case of churches. But there are also spaces without a specific purpose, like the bioclimatic house I designed for that experimental housing project in Valendas, which has a large space at the front where the lack of defined uses is interesting. Making room for the unexpected implies attaching value to 'suspense'. I think it is very important to maintain that in the house. When something is taken for granted, the suspense is lost. When everything is designed with algorithms, when everything is justified mathematically and everything is conceived on the basis of pure logic, there is no room for chance, for the unexpected or events, which are very important for me. It would be a magnificent challenge to build houses that always facilitate this tension; houses that make room for the unexpected.

Coincidences

How do coincidences appear?

In a way, I always take it for granted that something is going to happen, and that you have to be open to coincidence. Chance doesn’t happen by chance! You can push it; maybe it depends on composition, scenography, the way you handle the project. You have to allow for all those possibilities. For example, during the renovations to the Hotel in Hergiswald, which was built on very old foundations, a wall collapsed and suddenly a bit more space became available. That space suddenly became a small room. My partner wanted to restore its original orthogonal shape, but I said to him, 'Look at the effect that this small notch has on the room! Because, unexpectedly, the room was no longer 'so orthogonal'. It no longer had such a clear geometry, and it had gained a hint of ambiguity. That intrusion gave the room something poetic, perhaps even erotic. It had somehow made it more interesting as a counterpoint, it projected the sensation that the space was starting to communicate with you. That’s what I mean when I talk about 'coincidences'.

Doubt

Creation emerges from doubt.

It’s amazing how important it is to doubt, but it shouldn’t lead to despair. The great Alberto Giacometti always doubted, but he was strong enough to keep going. Apparently he used to tear up everything into pieces and start again. He worked his figures so much that they fell apart in his hands. He once said, 'I’m really close this time'. I think that’s great. As an architect, when you can say, 'Well, I might almost be there', you are showing the value of doubt. I think we need to doubt in order to take the first step; but I also think that to go further, you have to doubt what you’ve done. Doubting can be a bad thing at night, but then in the morning, it works again. And so you arrive at a kind of balance. But doubting also means observing and thinking. I find that when you always keep your eyes open, when you look and notice something which might seem unimportant but you have a feeling that it might be significant, you are quite possibly on the right track. If you go too far, if you become arrogant and say, 'I’m sure this is going to be 100% right', the risk of failure increases. Sometimes, though, not having doubts can also lead you to a magnificent achievement. Looking back at the history of the world, we can also find people who simply went their own way, unhesitatingly, who also managed to do excellent things.

Stumbling blocks in the design process

Colliding with an obstacle and being able to stay on track without a sense of renunciation.

That happens all the time. And that’s why I like to have people by my side, even if they get on my nerves a bit sometimes... we have to take obstacles and difficulties in our stride. Like when we try to solve difficult environmental problems, which on the other hand, can also suggest new ideas. It’s a question of finding solutions without having to compromise, because compromise solutions are the worst. With compromises I always have the feeling that I am giving up 'the best' for the sake of mollification. But the truth is that when you have a discussion about something, new solutions can emerge. And that is when, having arrived at a consensus, that you say to yourself, 'OK, I didn’t know that, I had no idea, but this is the best solution'. And in that case, what emerges is a more like a new option than a compromise solution.

Reading

Searching for stimuli.

I read several books at the same time. What I read is always related to my work, even when the texts are philosophical, sociological or historical. That is my idea of trans-disciplinarity. When I make reading the focal point of my work, of course it is because it has to do with me, with my work. In any case, I don’t read anything that doesn’t move me forward: I’m just not interested. I find texts on art interesting, and also some subjects that might seem more foreign in disciplinary terms. There is a little book by Heidegger, Gelassenheit2 (Serenity), which I think is quite beautiful. Another text of his, Der Feldweg (The Country Road),3 is also very good. Both books are quite precious for me.

Writing

Writing as designing.

I think writing is very important. It is a design tool. When I can’t make progress with drawing, I have to start writing. Then some issues seem to be clearer.

Writing is comparable to designing: they are both mental tools that you use to frame your ideas.

Time

Dealing with the unexpected requires a lot of work and time. Time is a luxury. 

Gion Caminada was born in Vrin, Switzerland, in 1957. After working as an apprentice carpenter in Vrin, he attended a school of applied arts in Zurich and an art school in Florence prior to completing his postgraduate studies in architecture at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology (ETH) in Zurich. He has had his own architectural practice in Vrin since 1986. In 1998 he was appointed Assistant Professor at the ETH Zurich, where he was Associate Professor of Architecture and Design from 2008 to 2020. Since 2020 he has been a Full Professor of Architecture and Design at ETH Zurich.

Robert M. Veneri (Bolzano 1962), from a multilingual family of architects and writers, studied architecture in Innsbruck and Venice. Alongside his professional activity, he has been teaching in Venice, Innsbruck, Bolzano and Liechtenstein. Currently he is senior lecturer at the Faculty of Architecture in Innsbruck, where he teaches analysis of architectural space (Raumgestaltung) and architectural design.