Senses as Scale: Accessing “le territoire”

“It is neither balcony cultivation nor green roofs that will save the planet, but rather courage and multi-centrality between villages” – Anna Chavepayre

French-Swedish architect Anna Chavepayre and her family live in the French village of Labastide-Villefranche, situated between Biarritz and Pau. Due to the prevailing centralization of France, Anna sees it as a matter of course to invest in the smaller villages and link them together in a network to foster sustainability. Her office, Collectif Encore, receives commissions both from the private and the public sector and has garnered positive responses from local residents. Ever since Anna won the Swedish architectural award “Kasper Salin priset” in 2018, the attention around her office and its work has grown to international levels.

Interview by Anna-Maria Pershagen

You have stated that instead of the city, it is rather the village or a network of villages where we can actually foster sustainability. Can you tell us what you mean by that?

Anna Chavepayre: It may not fit everywhere, but here in the French countryside, with all the tiny villages, a polycentric solution may be the best to achieve sustainability. In this context a polycentric solution can be compared to a mid-sized town. When we moved here many years ago, there were many others who did so as well. We knew it would be difficult and that we would have to work hard, but we were convinced that this is where we can create a sustainable society. We believed this could be achieved by linking several villages together. And then grow vegetables and tomatoes in between. I tend to say that our village is the center of the region. It takes us 45 minutes of travel time to reach cities like Biarritz or Pau. Our office is situated here in Labastide-Villefranche, with a satellite in Bordeaux. We have ongoing projects throughout the whole region and its small villages, as well as in Bilbao, Bordeaux, Toulouse, Biarritz and Pau.

On your website, you describe the integration of different scales, ranging from landscape to settlement to architecture, from a territory to an individual object. How do you accomplish this in your work?

Anna Chavepayre: As I see it, breathing is an activity that is closest to the human scale, and this connects further to the countryside and the old houses that allow for natural ventilation. Here, we don’t require mechanical ventilation or air conditioning. They are fantastic, these old stone houses, enabling natural ventilation throughout the entire year. This scale translates into air and freedom. Therefore, talking about scale means talking about space and time. When talking about scale, we can look at the village again and the small scale it displays. Living and working in a small village means that we can literally eat what grows outside the door. The tomatoes here take up very little space on earth. They don’t require a single square meter of asphalt. Compared to a person who lives in the city and the tomato that person eats, this situation here results in a completely different ecological footprint. Referring to scale, we could also talk about tools. The fact that we currently work with 3D-models and computers in an extensive manner also means that we don’t work at an actual, real-life scale. As a result, we lose the capacity to work at different scales and integrate them. For example, when we work at a large scale, a scale where you can see the whole area, you prioritize what is most important, such as vehicular transport. When we work at a different scale, on the other hand, such as on-site, we don’t lose sight of the details. Yet, I think switching between these scales and integrating them remains a challenge.

In your view, what presently shapes the identity of place and what challenges the historic value of identity?

Anna Chavepayre: The term identity can also refer to something that is identical. It is nothing specific, in a manner of speaking. You need to consider this, because it also leads to problems. When you talk about the identity of the Basque country, “the Basque identity”, then it becomes difficult. One consequence is over-simplification. Compare this to making laws or even formulating architectural rules, how to build properly and so on. In the case of architectural identity, we could say: if it has been in existence since the 19th century, it’s identical. Each village out here, within the area where you can hear the church bell ring, they had their own language, their own architecture, their own laws, everything, and it shows. Every village has its own identity. When you live here, in Bearn, life is completely different than in any other village. But the term identity implies that it is the same for everyone, village by village by village. Even every house has its own identity. Every house has its own, absolutely specific, special place. And that is simply not taken into account. So in a way, this cultural identity means that you don’t do justice to each specific situation. Instead of trying to control everything, why not give some freedom, so that you can do something good on-site?

How does Collectif Encore address this challenge?

Anna Chavepayre: Sometimes I can’t stand it, and I take risks. But the health and lives of people are most important. Having to adhere to the rules that apply is an ongoing challenge. We work in a very specific manner, we do our analysis on-site. It takes a while, but in the end we gain both time and money – because we don’t simply tear down or remove anything. Instead, we use the qualities that exist on-site, or the problems as they present themselves and start to work with them. It isn’t possible to build and make an analysis if we don’t have our feet on the ground. This is where we have to start. We have to be on-site. And you have to be there for quite some time, to really understand the situation. You need to become acquainted with the reasons for why you are doing things there. There must be enthusiasm, your house must be dreamed into reality, otherwise it will actually be nothing. If you don’t dream, wish, want and get excited about what you are going to do, if you don’t have that commitment, then you shouldn’t build anything, simply said.

How do you engage with politicians and local residents, and what interests, processes and co-benefits are in play?

Anna Chavepayre: Those actors who respond really well, politicians, municipalities, ministries, they are just like us. They are ambitious and want to create living places, le territoire. They think it is important to know what we spend the money on. They are sensible people, and everyone tends to agree with what we propose. But people are so interested in building and don’t dare to object. If we dare to say no, then others will follow. Many people have responded to what we say and what we talk about or articles we publish. Even if a project goes slowly, we do what we do with a certain degree of self-confidence – which inspires other people to believe that it is possible to do something different! In this regard, our work inspires hope in people.

Are there other lessons learned concerning which methods work best and which don’t?

Anna Chavepayre: One enters the French landscape through the market place. This is where you meet and talk. My husband Julien loves to cook. So, he went to the market places and talked to the farmers who sold their produce there. And they are the ones who have the key to our landscape, to le territoire. Establishing genuine contacts and getting to know people is important in order to understand the landscape. We made many new friends, and politicians and ministries began to get in touch and communicated their interest in cooperation.

In the context of certain private initiatives, crowdfunding has worked well, for example in the case of a restaurant in Sauterre de Bearn that we renovated. People enjoy going there very much these days. The whole village went from feeling like a ghost town to feeling alive again, and everyone felt included in the process. One of the most important lessons also concerns ecological sustainability. When we work on a project, we sometimes create a large building that can house many people. The aim is to be able to open up rooms to the exterior and limit heating to particular parts of the building. Another lesson is that your projects won’t be better than your client! If you have a bad client, you will never do well. When you notice that the client is bad then just leave, right away!

What characterizes a bad client?

Anna Chavepayre: For the most part, they are private property developers, many of whom build social housing. They have so many rules and laws that are carved in stone, yet they miss the goal. They don’t seem to care about building for people or the natural environment, they only care about their small numbers in their files. This curbs our enthusiasm. It takes a while to create architecture, so you have to be very careful with your choice of clients.When they talk to you, it sounds like they are interested in sustainability, in creating an interesting house, and so forth. But they do so only because you are something they desire. You are the one who gets a building permit for them and ensures people will hear about the project. They let you do any project, but once it’s finished, they can take away as much as they want, because they want to earn as much as possible. They reduce the architect’s role, so that we don’t get the recognition we deserve. They have forgotten that they are building the world, they have completely put this notion aside, only thinking about money or how the facade looks like in the newspaper. They disregard health, joy, life, the planet. They have no commitment. We need courage to choose another path forward. I tend to connect this with existence. To exist also means to find something, and you can’t find anything if you can’t search for something.

Finding an alternative to the focus on growth is about acquiring new values and, above all, succeeding in putting them into practice, which Anna demonstrably does and continues to do. Additional projects that Collectif Encore works on includes tying together large abandoned farms for permaculture and the construction of social housing. Anna’s commitment is inspiring and her ability to see the potential of the seemingly dilapidated is remarkable – Perhaps the most authentic and promising architecture originates in the possibilities of what can be preserved?