OPINION PIECE: LET'S UNCOVER THE POTENTIAL IN ARCHITECTURE THAT DOESN'T SEEK THE SPOTLIGHT BUT STEPS BACK

"Actually, it's quite beautiful when you really look at it! Quack! Quack!"

Although H.C. Andersen probably didn't have gray concrete buildings and transformation in mind when he wrote 'The Ugly Duckling,' the moral is more important than ever.

When we talk about transformation in the architecture industry, our thoughts often first turn to the beautiful, historic buildings that can be restored to their former glory with some tender care. But what about the ugly ducklings in construction?

With the climate crisis at its peak, let's recognize the potential of architecturally challenged buildings and help them spread their wings.

What once worked?

It has become a sport to criticize the gray concrete buildings from the 70s.

"Deeply ugly," "hideous spectacle," "too large and too odd."

While these quotes might remind me of bitter comments on Facebook or statements about a high-rise in Urbanplanen, they are actually excerpts of the ducks' unkind treatment of the cygnet.

Yes, there are emotions in architecture. It can get everyone up in arms. That's why we love it. But let's advocate for constructive criticism. It's too easy to rally around what we don't like.

We are living in a climate crisis where we should nurture optimism rather than pessimism. Instead, let's approach the ugly buildings with curiosity. And maybe stop—as I myself am guilty of—calling them ugly.

We should focus on potential and instead ask: What can we build upon? What once worked? What didn't? Can we work with that?

We can elevate architecturally challenged buildings.

Transformation isn't just about what was, but about what can be. Architecturally challenged buildings were often constructed in the post-war era or during economic booms. They lack the aesthetic appeal that makes them obvious candidates for renovation and reuse. They may be functional, but their design is often characterized by monotony and a lack of character.

This is where we, as architects, come into play. Give us challenges, thousands of constraints, and we'll prove our worth. It doesn't happen by itself, but requires—like so much else—intense training in seeing solutions instead of problems. If we are to halt the climate crisis, it will require compromises and practice in approaching construction differently.

There will be bumps along the way. So, look your client deeply in the eyes and align expectations before you start the process. Transformation takes time, extra work with authorities, and usually more time before a building is completed. But it's worth the trouble when we manage to reshape the past, focus on CO2 savings, and avoid taking the easy way out by tearing everything down.

Most of all, I love the everyday

Recently, I reread this quote from my younger colleagues Marie Fostvedt and Kasper Hübertz Larsen in 'Climate Visions for Modernism's Building Culture':

"In light of the overwhelming climate crisis, we as architects are obligated to also focus on everyday architecture, the overlooked buildings, or what we call anti-monuments."

I join the chorus. There is potential in the ordinary. In everyday architecture. The architecture that doesn’t seek the spotlight but instead steps back. The overlooked buildings will be discovered if we open our eyes (and horizons, for that matter).

After all, we have more weekdays than anything else. Let's do everything we can to add new life and soul to them. It comes, first and foremost, with a large dose of optimism and patience, willing to wait for the egg to hatch and develop into a beautiful swan—or sometimes just a plain old duck.

I will conclude with four good pieces of advice for transformation:

• Create value that extends beyond the building and also focus on the surrounding area.
• Reuse as much of the existing structure as possible.
• Engage in close and early dialogue with the client, authorities, and contractor.
• Believe that all types of buildings can be transformed.