PERMEABLE SPECIES
Nous Avons Failli Commencer Sans Vous
Permeable Species is part of a larger research series that the BUREAU (Daniel Zamarbide, Carine Pimenta, Galliane Zamarbide) will develop over the years and that started in the Laval School of Architecture in Canada in 2023. Under the name Nous Avons Failli Commencer Sans Vous (we almost started without you) this research attempts to study the spatial conditions that may allow us to rethink, revisit and upgrade our relations to other species. We explore possibilities of cohabitation and experiment with non- conventional ways and tools to produce architectural and design pieces.
The studio Permeable Species is dedicated to designing co-habitational spaces where we include ourselves as humans, as bodies, as permeable beings within multiple and constitutional relations that form us and that we are part of. The studio does this by working in companionship and neighborhood relation with other species. Every student partners with a companion species and develop his.her own relation with them, designing as well the spaces for this relation.
We work with two research media: film and a manufactured object. One virtual, one physical. Both need craft, careful making. Both are thought as media to develop a story to be told, shown.
Projects in the studio are seen as stories, Speculative Fabulations (Donna Haraway) that tackle urgent realities. It is urgent to think of ourselves otherwise, as multiple and as part of a different world balance, more Gaian (Lovelock, Margulis). The spaces that we live in, practice, perform, activate, they need to be redefined in relation to the multiplicity of being. They have to open up, to be porous, permeable.
The conceptual frame of the studio is tied with a very tangible and material approach. In the studio ideas exist only when they reach a material form. The studio is fundamentally thought as a space for making, a workshop. Spontaneous intuition is favored in order to tackle as fast as possible how projects materialize. In this sense, the speculative aspect of the studio is filled up with material, technical and non-abstract pragmatism. Students and team are to work acknowledging very well how things are made and what things are made of. re to work acknowledging very well how things are madeand what things are made of.
ON DWELLING
with and within
Ethnology and anthropology rely on fieldwork, as does sociology. Architecture, whether focused on buildings or interiors, often supports life in overlooked ways. Life necessitates elemental structures that enable existence, with the house being the most recognized piece of architecture, where people engage in daily activities and gather in unity.
The growing concern about the separation of nature and culture, intensified by the climate crisis, challenges traditional hierarchies. From Philippe Descola’s Beyond Nature and Culture (2013) to Francesca Ferrando’s The Art of Being Posthuman (2023), many thinkers critique the dichotomy that alienates us from our true essence. We are part of our environment; we are “nature”. Architecture has historically contributed to this problem.
Architecture has historically focused on monumental and exceptional structure often reflecting domination rather than community. We believe that it is necessary to move beyond the mere “art of building.”
Recognizing that our bodies comprise non-human entities, such as viruses and bacteria, invites the need for new homes. As holobionts or “superorganisms”, we host diverse microorganisms essential to our being. This understanding leads us to consider life-support structures for our complex, interdependent communities.
What should these structures look like? Do they need to be sealed or isolated? Should we rethink the concepts of inside and outside? As we redefine our identity, we must also reconsider our relationships with other species. What homes can accommodate this diverse community? Dwelling is an active verb that embodies living. A house devoid of life is not truly a home.
Imagine a porous home—one that is not sealed, but open. In this speculative scenario, the boundaries between inside and outside blur, allowing life to flow differently than in our well-tempered environments. Many communities worldwide have thrived without double-glazed windows or central heating, adapting to their surroundings.
Architecture critic Reyner Banham explored this concept in The Architecture of the Well-Tempered Environment (1969). The second edition opens with a New Orleans song that echoes Buddy Bolden’s call to “open up that window, let the foul air out!” As a cornetist, Bolden understood the vital exchange of air, illustrating the relationship between interior and exterior.
Today, the need to let fresh air circulate is pressing. By breaking down the walls that confine us, we might enhance our health and broaden our collective imagination. Without defined walls, how do we understand the boundary between interior and exterior? Traditionally, the primitive hut was built for protection against nature. However, if we see nature as a companion rather than a threat, our definitions of hostility and protection may shift. This could further blur the lines between what we consider interior and exterior. How do we redefine the concept of interior? Beyond technical constraints, should we rethink it entirely? Like Bolden’s cornet, our homes could become instruments for air, allowing life to flow in and out.
ON PEDAGOGIES
of uncertainty
“For most of the twentieth century and at least a good fifth of the twenty-first, architecture schools around the work have promoted a dangerously dishonest ideology – that architecture degrees shloud be taught as if they were entirely vocational – focused exclusively on the production of buildings, and not a powerful pathway towards a plethora of other professional possibilities.
What makes this old ideology dangerous is that this protectionist, self-serving , and self-aggrandizing perspective poisons our pedagogies and our planet, its people, places, and other forms of life upon which our collective existence depends.” (Harriet Harriss and Roberta Marcaccio).
James Bridle’s Ways of Being addresses key issues surrounding Artificial Intelligence (AI), highlighting that its development is largely dominated by corporate multinationals with capitalistic goals. The concern lies not in the intelligence of machines, but in the specific “culture” from which they emerge. Bridle references early computer pioneers who prioritized adapting machines to uncertain situations, contrasting this with contemporary technologies that often seek definitive answers driven by commercial interests.
Pedagogical institutions should embrace uncertainty, fostering an educational approach that confronts rather than resolves questions. In our rapidly changing world, this is crucial; we navigate a fragile reality that can shift unexpectedly.
Adapting to unknown outputs requires exploring uncharted contexts. Recognizing our interspecies connections calls for perspectives that extend beyond human rationale. This raises the question of how to achieve this, with no clear answer. By experimenting and adopting diverse attitudes, we can develop new relationships with our subjects.
Francesca Ferrando suggests that addressing «how» can lead us closer to «what». Many have already developed alternative learning processes. Philippe Descola notes that the Achuar people interpret dreams with a shaman, linking dream experiences to relational issues in the physical realm.
The work of Beatriz Colomina on radical pedagogies in architectural education reminds us that becoming architects involves navigating varied paths shaped by historical contexts.
Today presents an opportunity for radical pedagogies in architecture, especially regarding new neighborhood relations and the blurring of interior and exterior. If uncertainty is our guiding principle, what foundations can we establish for a new architectural approach that acknowledges interspecies relationships?