Portugal beyond the borders of Portugal

Interview with Marco Maia

As a verbal illustration for the exhibition, we present a short interview with the initiator of the event in Prague, Portuguese architect Marco Maia. Like the buildings he will talk about, he is currently settled outside his country – he has been working for a year at the Prague office of Jiran Kohout architects. Before that, however, he successfully completed, as is customary in Portugal, a six-year architectural study followed by a mandatory seventh year of practice – a requirement for membership in the local chamber of architects.

Portuguese architecture was last presented in Germany in 1997 with a large exhibition at the Frankfurt Deutsches Architekturmuseum. The current exhibition, which has been transferred to Prague, was initiated by the president of the country, Silva, who among other things said: "Portuguese architecture today enjoys an exceptional global reputation. In Portugal and abroad, Portuguese architects have managed to combine their talent with creativity, producing their best work and thus strengthening their own identity in their work. It is a point of pride for Portugal that on every continent we can find a building bearing a Portuguese signature."
Can we say that Portuguese architecture enjoys state support?
In recent years, we have indeed felt the support. One could say that the country's leadership understands architecture as a kind of icon. They recognize that our presence in the world should not be anchored solely in football. I may be biased, but I believe architecture is the best way to show internationally who we are and how to bring our identity closer to others.
I see mainly two impulses for the current recognition of the distinctiveness of Portuguese architecture: first, Expo 1998, which took place in Lisbon and was very successful, and then the European Football Championship hosted in 2004, thanks to which 11 modern stadiums were built. The buildings were publicized and became icons. I mean, for example, the football stadium in the northern Portuguese city of Braga by Souto de Moura. Subsequently, I believe that city councils in smaller towns began to think similarly. At least in Portugal or Spain, you can feel this tendency. The architect is considered an important and necessary partner whose help can improve both the social and economic situation of the city...

Is architecture becoming a topic for political party programs, for example?
It does not represent a part of the programs, but rather our mentality.
We do not have an official national architecture policy. Firstly, it depends on architectural schools, and the second crucial thing is the mentioned mentality: the fact that politicians in the last ten to fifteen years have been recognizing that with the help of good architecture, they can show citizens that they are doing good things for them.

Can you compare the situation in the Czech Republic with yours after a year spent here?
In Portugal, municipalities have been aware for several years of how important it is for cities to organize architectural competitions and derive ideas from them... Whereas here in the Czech Republic, competitions are often held, a winner is determined, but ultimately the project is not built according to their design. The main difference lies in the fact that in Portugal competitions represent a path to a realized project. To a building, to the modification of public space...

Is organizing an architectural competition mandatory for municipalities in Portugal?
It depends on the value of the contract. The rules are currently changing. However, until recently, it was the case that a project worth less than one hundred thousand euros could be awarded directly without a competition. Whereas for projects costing more, a competition must be held. After all, it is about the citizens' money. How would the city administration justify choosing one architect?
Once young creators win a competition, they gain contacts and can also set up their office. However, if you win a competition but ultimately do not construct the project, no one knows you. In the Czech Republic, it is much harder for a good architect to establish and assert themselves in the market.

Is it possible to capture the specifics of Portuguese architecture? Can one still recognize that it is “Portuguese”?
One can. In a way, yes.

Could you attempt to do so?
If we look at this Siza model, it is made of wood. However, the building itself is concrete, white. Southern countries very often work with light and shadow – and this contrast is best highlighted on white surfaces. I would say that the first connecting element is the color white.
On the displayed models, you will also notice that for most authors, volume, working with volumetry – specifically the relationship of volume and opening, modernist windows – is important. Furthermore, we do not often use glass façades or large glazed surfaces.
Most objects are also characterized by a strong relationship to the site.

Can you concretize this rather abstract motif on any of the displayed exhibits?
Let's look at the previously mentioned Siza project for the Ibere Camargo Foundation in Porto Alegre, Brazil. It essentially becomes part of the hill at its base. Sure, it is a white icon. However, it is fully integrated into its surroundings. The shaping creates a kind of allusion to contour lines. This comes from Siza's drawings. It is typical for Siza to go to the site and sketch directly there. His project is to some extent already determined by the initial drawing.
Similarly, the second Siza project on display: a multifunctional pavilion for the mountainous region of Anyang in South Korea, which was drawn and built within an extraordinarily short period of one and a half years. The overall concept again originated from the initial sketch; however, it is obvious that it was followed by diligent work – especially on models. The model is perhaps another strong aspect of the Portuguese approach to creation. An architect can create anywhere from twenty to thirty models for one building.

Really?
Two years ago, Jiran and Kohout were in Portugal, and we visited Siza's office together. Even for them, the number of models was surprising. At that time, Siza was working on a project for a museum in Sao Paulo.

So the models are created directly in the office...
They represent an important part of the creative process. They are certainly not intended solely for presentation before the client.
The sketch shows the idea, the feelings, but in projects, we verify the scale, proportions... It is not possible to work solely with 3D simulations on a computer; only with the help of a real physical model can you control your work. Visualization cannot convey the feeling of space. You can also see the effects of light, cast shadows on the model...
By the way, when I visited North Africa, I had the feeling that I was walking in places where Siza had worked. White volumes, sun, shadows, small windows that let air in but not heat. It was one of the moments that made me think about the nature of Portuguese architecture. It is essentially to a large extent Mediterranean.

Can this skimming in situ be generalized to the typically Portuguese approach?
It is typical primarily of the so-called “Porto school”, where there is a long tradition, of at least three generations emphasizing the importance of drawing in a specific location and at a certain moment. As Ana Tostoes aptly writes in the catalog: “Each drawing should capture with the greatest accuracy the given moment of the fleeting image, in all its variations.” This sensitivity was first brought to Porto by Fernando Távora, Álvaro Siza's teacher, who was also Souto de Moura's teacher. Távora already sketched often on his trips with students. The teaching process has therefore been continuous for about eighty years.

Does this mean that the continuity was not disrupted even by the change in the political system?
No. However, politics influenced the architecture that later became known as regime architecture. Creators were summoned to participate in transforming the environment and finding the solutions and forms that the regime demanded. They actively participated in changes both during and after the regime.
It is an interesting topic. I myself wrote a thesis on architecture related to the regime between the First and Second World Wars and the Portuguese colonial war in the sixties and first half of the seventies. I also lectured on this topic at the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague.

Are the mentioned characteristics such as color, volume work, windows, or relationship to the site so generally supported that you can truly recognize a "Portuguese" building?
Most of the time, yes. (laughs) Occasionally, I am asked at Jiran and Kohout: How would you do this in Portugal?

And do your solutions really differ from, say, “Czech” ones?
Most of the time, yes. (laughs)

???
Perhaps it is again about the teaching method. CTU has the word “technical” in its name, and I have a feeling that the technical aspect focused on function and organization prevails in the approach here. We certainly incorporate these values into the project as well, but the sketches created at the very beginning of the work focus on the concept, on the main idea of the project. We thus work with two layers: conceptual, which does not suppress emotions, and the other, more rational, following certain rules.
This is evident in many works, for example, the project for the residence of the Portuguese embassy in Brazil by Vilela & Gorodona. The floor plans here follow a certain rule; there is a visible constant, continually repeating dimension, but when you look more closely at the building, you discover a certain playfulness in it. So we respect the structure and technique, but we add something more... that comes from the very beginning, from the feelings.
But when I say this, another sentence from Ana Tostoes' text comes to mind, which I highlighted in the catalog: “Critique is accepted as one of the modern conditions. This means that it raises doubts not as evidence of weakness, but as a building block for any further intellectual and moral activity.”

Are you suggesting that you do not see much of an emotional layer in Czech architecture?
Yes. The functionalist legacy, the focus on spatial organization here is very strong. However, it is interesting to observe this approach, and I am of course fortunate to work in a good office.

What does the outlined Portuguese approach stem from?
I am not sure. But I remember what Zdeněk Zavřel said at the opening of the exhibition. He talked about our limits. He reminded that on one hand, we are surrounded by Europe, which is relatively far away, and on the other, only by the ocean. It is this boundary that dissolves into infinity that gives us a sense of freedom, of being unbound.
Examples can include projects in Angola: residential complex by Barberini Arquitectos or a hotel by Atelier do Corvo. Angolan Luanda is today becoming somewhat of Africa's Dubai – the construction boom here is enormous. And because the economic crisis hit Portugal five years ago, and we also have certain ties to the country from colonial times, Angola is becoming one of the many places where young architects go to work.

Aren't these departures a form of cultural colonization? After all, the Portuguese have centuries of experience with overseas travel...
You are right, in a way, yes. For example, we have already been to East Timor and are now returning to the country with a church project by Pedro Reis.

What does it feel like?
Blurred. Our economy has not been in the best shape in recent years, and young people are often forced to leave the country... On the other hand, there is a feeling that if we have a problem, we can solve it. An attitude perhaps stemming from that open horizon that the coast offers. A sense of adventure: “Let’s see what’s happening on the other side of the Atlantic!”

Thank you for the interview.