Architects, designers and the housing crisis

First of all, I am aware of the privilege that enables me to attribute the role of designer to myself in the first place. It is from this place of humility and self-awareness that I tried to approach my view of the world as correctly as possible back then. I use the word ‘correct’ here deliberately, because I was trying to pursue certain moral values ​​based on my gut feeling, without having found an overarching term for them.

For the past three years, I have worked as an interior designer for an architectural firm. This period in the field awakened my desire to be able to design with a societal vision in mind. While I could still dream beautifully about utopian ideals during my interior design studies, I was confronted with the harsh reality in the workplace. Working for a profit-oriented company, I soon realized that moral values ​​can be reduced to a sham. Beautiful words about sustainable design vanish like snow in the sun when money needs to be in the account at the end of the month.

"In practice, the market for the average interior architect is really the upper class of society."

In practice, the target market for the average interior architect is truly the upper class of society. These clients, often with a high socio-economic status, knock on the door with commissions such as renovating a seaside apartment or adding an outdoor kitchen to an already spacious home. Every time I was sketching out a kitchen unit in Italian marble, I felt my sense of purpose—and with it, the reason why I became a designer in the first place—draining away. I decided to quit my job and go back to studying to rediscover my purpose in the profession.

At the same time, I wasn't sitting still as a person. Partly due to renewed interest in my partial Indonesian heritage, I began to delve into our colonial past and the role we played in it as Europeans through our imperialism. Not long after, I was called ‘woke’ for the first time at a wedding. At the time, I couldn't quite grasp the full meaning of this word myself. Thanks to taking the Human and Society course, I gained the tools to better articulate my thoughts. The conservation of the Djenné Mosque in Mali according to World Heritage standards, discussed by anthropologist Trevor H.J. Marchand, aligned perfectly with this phenomenon of Western lack of cultural relativism. It painfully exposes how we, as the West, still use ourselves as the benchmark when it comes to comparing ourselves to other places in the world.

Another phenomenon that fascinates me within the industry is that of the ‘starchitect’. This is someone whose fame and appropriation of created architecture goes so far that it becomes idolized. Whereas the Greeks still viewed intellectual property, and art in particular, as the property of the people, and defined its creators merely as the instrument through which beauty arrived on earth, we have seen a change since the Renaissance, in which created things are attributed to the individual.

"We often attribute a building to an architect. What does this say about the importance we attach to the construction workers, users, visitors, and passers-by on the street?"

This personal ego boost detracts from all the other actors who played a part in creating a specific context. This is very visible within architecture. We often attribute a building to an architect. What does this say about the importance we attach to the construction workers, users, visitors, and passers-by on the street? Everyone has a relationship with the building, yet apparently, we do not consider these others important enough.

Anthropologist Stewart Allen, with his case study in India, provided clear insight into how the construction of Barefoot College came about with the help of local people and a hired young architect. Here, the role of architect was not assigned to a single person. This contributed to refining my own viewpoint when it comes to Vernacular architecture.

Finally, I have since gained an idea of ​​what kind of interior architect I want to be. I want to approach architecture in a holistic way and, through my projects, contribute to improving the quality of life for people at the bottom of the social ladder. In the coming decades, thanks to neoliberal housing policy, gentrification, and a free market economy in which speculators could run rampant like cowboys in the Wild West, we will be saddled with a housing crisis.

There is a need for more social housing. When it comes to housing for people with a lower socio-economic status, the idea of ​​hiring an interior architect is often an unattainable luxury. However, a significant improvement in quality can be achieved very quickly with simple and thoughtful interventions, such as playing with ceiling heights and natural light. People in the lower class also have a right to livable homes, and I would feel honored to be able to play a role in that.

A case study in Berlin regarding the so-called ‘Plattenbauten’ - prefabricated apartment blocks from the GDR era - discussed by anthropologist Melanie van der Hoorn, made me realize that it is possible to allow contemporary users to appropriate socialist housing in a pleasant way. One turns a space into one’s own place, and ultimately, we all want our own nice, livable place.

At the beginning of this story, I was looking for the right term for my view of the world. I know it now. I am a postmodern interior architect.

Come all to the housing protest in Westerpark this coming Sunday, September 12. 2:00 PM. Amsterdam.