Markus Miessen at his home office in Prenzlauer Berg, Berlin.
I think your multidisciplinary way of working has a fresh approach to architecture and urbanism. Do you have a blueprint for design?
It’s a very difficult question to answer because it’s so generic, and at the same time design is usually something very specific. It can be something big, something small, something physical or non-physical, it can be a policy, something on paper; it can even be a timetable or an event. There are also two paradigms of work: one of them is a self-initiated process and the other is a project commissioned by someone from the outside.
However, looking at the latter paradigm my doctrine is that whenever someone approaches you with a brief or with their own question, the most productive way to deal with it is to ask yourself this question in a more critical way.
Also, when you design, you shouldn’t have a preset format for answering your question. I mean, if someone approaches me with a brief for a building, it might as well be that after some serious testing of ideas the most favourable solution turns out not a physical one. Let me refer to Cedric Price who once said that an unhappy couple might be better advised to get a divorce rather than build a dream house.
“If someone approaches me with a brief for a building, the most favourable solution might turn out not a physical one.”
You operate somewhere in between design and research touching both the academic field and the field of popular culture in your work. What makes you take up certain projects?
Ok, to add to what I just said, there are actually three different kinds of projects: one is the self-initiated kind, the other is the commissioned kind and the third one is something purely economy-related. So, the last one is obviously the most boring and the first one is the most interesting.
With nOffice we do mostly commissioned architectural or urban projects and Studio Miessen is about research, teaching, writing, curating and so on. My problem is that with nOffice we’re a little bit idealistic and we don’t do things for the money. And with Studio Miessen almost all the work apart from the teaching and writing is independent research, which no one obviously pays for. So, most of the projects I do are based more or less on personal interest, me being a curious kind of guy.
One way to maintain my lifestyle is to take up economy-related projects on the side – teach or do some commercial writing for magazines. And in the best case these projects become an extension of my practice. Like when I was teaching at the Berlage Insitute, we did a student project in Brazil where nOffice happened to be building a library. The student project resulted in a thorough exploration of the social context of building in Brazil – something that would never have been possible within the framework of the commissioned project itself.
“Most of my projects are based on personal interest, me being a curious kind of guy.”
What motivates you to work on independent projects around and about architecture?
To my mind, architecture in its traditional sense almost makes you stop doing things. It’s a praxis of delay, which means that whatever you do it will take forever. It’s never on time, it’s usually more expensive than you thought, and there are always fights. There’s this great myth around architecture, e.g. in Germany they have made surveys on what’s the most respected job and for some reason architects always end up in top three after doctors and lawyers whilst I would say it’s a really bad job: you’re being used politically, you work crazy hours and the pay is bad. Of course I’m interested in architecture but at the same time I’m not so sure about the sustainability of the industry, and I guess that’s what motivates me to do something out of the ordinary.
You have said that you are most interested in the political work of spatial practitioners – “projects, where authorships start to blur”. Can you give me an example of a project like this?
In 2007 I was invited to do a pavilion at the Lyon Biennial with a brief to communicate the most interesting architectural and spatial practices in the first decade of the 21st century. Instead of composing a list of what’s hot I decided to do something more topical and think about Europe at that moment. This was right after the constitutional referendum had failed and I wanted to explore why this might have happened – why people mistrusted Europe and didn’t see potential in it. My hypothesis was that if they didn’t understand Europe as a space they couldn’t trust it as an institution either.
The project was called The Violence of Participation. We invited a hundred artists, architects, curators, writers, cultural producers, politicians, etc. worldwide to send us an A4 visualization of their spatial perception of Europe. Then we designed a big round table, which is typically seen as a space for mediation or negotiation but turned it into something opposite by placing vertical fins on it, making it a space of exclusion with several booth-like sections. The table was displayed in Lyon together with the hundred visualizations that were corrupted by people sitting in the booths, drawing their own perceptions of Europe on top of them.
The Violence of Participation, the exhibition. Photo by Markus Miessen.
The Violence of Participation, the book. Photo by Markus Miessen.
What new do you think a designer can bring into political discourse?
It’s certainly not an exclusive quality that an architect or a designer has, but more an outsider-perspective with curiosity and healthy intellect that makes the discourse more fruitful. I think outsiders are often more productive in terms of interesting thinking than insiders. It’s all about approaching a topic with certain naivety, from the perspective of an amateur. The questions you ask are genuine because you aren’t looking for a consensus but an answer. I actually write about the subject in my new book, Cross-Bench Praxis (out Nov, 2009). The book reflects on a conflictual mode of participation through looking at cross-bench politicians in the British parliamentary system – the people with no ties to the political parties at play.
“I think outsiders are often more productive in terms of interesting thinking than insiders.”
At the moment, you’re working on a new book, doing your PhD for the Centre for Research Architecture at Goldsmiths in London and running nOffice. How do you find time for doing all this, and do you see your professional life take over your private life?
Private life is a very difficult term. I’m totally happy about what I’m doing and sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m working because I’m just doing what interests me. But then there’s also a very different level of private life. For instance the time I spend with my girlfriend. She comes from a totally different background in terms of working so with her it’s easy to make a distinction between work and non-work. It’s almost like we have this natural mode of switching off together. For example, I do most of my work at home in the library, which is located next to the living room where my girlfriend usually spends her time when she comes home from work. This might sound funny but the moment I leave my “work world” to enter the living room it’s like a complete break. All the pressure drops in the living room. My girlfriend also leads a very structured life going to the office at nine in the morning and coming back at eight, and she only works from Monday to Friday. Now, I’ve started to structure my life according to her – with the exception that I always start my days at 5.30 in the morning.
That’s early! It reminds me of a project of yours with Hans-Ulrich Obrist, the Brutally Early Club. Can you tell me about that?
When I was living in London we worked on a couple of projects with Hans-Ulrich, but the problem was that neither Hans nor me had enough time to arrange proper meetings to discuss things during the days. So we decided to do it super early. We would meet at a café at 6am, spend three hours talking and getting things done. This event was soon given the name Brutally Early Club and we started to invite other people to join, using it as a platform to meet people who would for instance be in London for only one night. And we started doing it in other cities, too.
You work very internationally with projects in Brazil, the US, Europe, and the Middle East. However, your office is based in Berlin. What does it mean to have an office here? Does the city have an effect on your thinking and doing?
Well, there are different realities: one is the financial reality, the other has to do with infrastructure and services, and the third one is time. In terms of financial decision making Berlin is pretty straightforward simply because it’s cheap. The infrastructure is also pretty efficient, and this has to do with time as well. Compared to e.g. London, my former home city, where you waste a lot of time in travelling to places, even going to the airport only takes 15 minutes here. London also puts this certain pressure on you all the time. Here, this pressure doesn’t exist. Of course you can look at it in a skeptical way saying that if there’s no pressure, people just hang out, which obviously happens a lot, too. But if you’re very committed to your energy and don’t lose it, Berlin becomes very productive. The lack of pressure, both social and financial, gives you freedom to think in new directions – and play the cross-bench practitioner, if you will.