Ben van Berkel, a co-founder of Amsterdam-based architectural practice, UNStudio, likes to say: "The essence of architecture is to be found somewhere between art and airports." To be sure it is strongly present in his unique train stations, skyscrapers, theatres, and tiny pavilions that serve him as prototypes not merely to reinvent architecture formally but to improve it on many levels. The architect wants his buildings to enrich our built environment experientially, programmatically, and, of course, artistically. His 300-member firm, in addition to Amsterdam, operates offices in Frankfurt, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Dubai, and Melbourne. It is critically acclaimed for such early iconic works as Erasmus Bridge in Rotterdam (1996), Möbius House on the outskirts of Amsterdam (1998), and Mercedes-Benz Museum in Stuttgart (2001). In recent years, in addition to many celebrated buildings around the world, the firm completed three exemplary projects in the Netherlands: Arnhem Central Transfer Hall (2015), the interfaculty Echo building at the Delft Technical University (2022), and Booking.com City Campus in Amsterdam (2023).

Born in 1957 in Utrecht, the Netherlands, van Berkel initially studied design at the Rietveld Academy in Amsterdam and then architecture at the Architectural Association in Londonfrom 1982 to 1987. He and his then wife-partner, Caroline Bos, founded their eponymous practice in 1988 and relaunched it as UNStudio a decade later. In the following interview with Ben van Berkel, we discussed what sparked his interest in architecture, apprenticing at the offices of Zaha Hadid and Santiago Calatrava, testing boundaries of what is possible by designing and building pavilions as prototypes, and his passion for painting and being inspired by the experimental nature of Jackson Pollock and Helen Frankenhaler.

Vladimir Belogolovsky (VB): You mentioned in your interviews that you don’t have a favourite building either designed by you or by other architects. Yet, there is one very special structure in your life and that is Katsura Imperial Villa in Kyoto. I read that it moved you enough to want to study architecture. When did this revelation occur and what did you think of this building then?

Ben van Berkel (BVB): That was in 1978-79, at the time when I was studying interior design as well as graphic and product design at the Rietveld Academy in Amsterdam in the evenings, and in the daytime, I worked for a graphic and exhibition designer. He was Japanese and he taught me a lot about Japanese culture. I was already thinking and talking a lot about buildings. He picked it up and encouraged me to learn more wholistically about architecture and to really focus on it. He was the one who suggested to me to visit Japan. I was still about 21 and that’s what I did. I went to see major works by Japanese architects in Tokyo—Kenzo Tange, Fumihiko Maki, and Arata Isozaki. And, of course, I went to Kyoto to see the Katsura Palace.

Visiting Katsura was an intensely emotional experience. I never thought architecture could communicate so beautifully. It was like listening to a symphony by Beethoven or reading one of Edgar Allan Poe’s poems. It was very special and, again, very emotional. Schopenhauer thought music was the greatest of all art forms. So, I am comparing my feelings to music because at the time I had no idea architecture could move people as intensely as what I experienced at the Katsura Palace. So, right in front of it, I thought, “If this is what architecture can do, I want to become an architect.”

VB: You studied architecture at the AA in London. When did you go there?

BVB: That was in 1982. I was 25 then. So, after I came back from Japan, it took me a few years to finally commit to studying architecture.

VB: You completed your studies at the AA in 1987 and started your practice with Caroline Bos in 1988. You also worked during that year at Zaha Hadid’s office, right?

BVB: Zaha was my professor in my final year at the AA. I was very lucky because that year she agreed to teach only five students. I was one of those five. We got along very well. I worked for her both as a student and for a few months after my graduation. Then I worked for Santiago Calatrava in Zurich. He still had a very small office then. I think it was just eight of us there and we worked in the basement of his own house. Half of the people were engineers and half were architects. At the time his work was more experimental than now, which since then has become somewhat more ostentatious. Personally, I worked on the design of Stadelhofen Station in Zurich, which was built in 1990. It is a beautiful urban solution for that part of the city. I stayed at Santiago’s office for one year and then we started our own office with Caroline here in Amsterdam. 

VB: Could you touch on your design process? How do you typically start a project and what techniques do you use?

BVB: I believe each project needs its mission, direction, and vision. All of these, of course, need to be combined with the brief of the client. Therefore, you have to turn your client’s brief into your own. It is about laying out all goals clearly—how can the site be used by the public, what sustainable design principles can be utilised, how we deal with the carbon footprint, and so on. All these values need to be brought into our design. And as far as the actual design, I don’t believe in too many variants. I think just a few are fine. You need to focus and define the direction very quickly in the design process.   

VB: You designed and built a number of pavilions such as the Burnham Pavilion in Chicago, the Changing Room for the Venice Architecture Biennale, the Youturn Pavilion for the Art Biennale in Sao Paulo, and the tiny portable Ellipsicoon. What role do these pavilions play in your work?

BVB: We test our ideas with them. Architects always experimented with their houses. We use them as our design models and prototypes for new thinking. They help us to develop thinking strategies. They sometimes turn into details of our projects or they can be expanded to the size of our projects. And we learn a lot not only from designing these pavilions but also from building them. They are quite complex. We test the boundaries of what is possible. Often, we bring ideas developed in pavilions into our projects. For example, the pavilion, Holiday Home we did in Philadelphia in 2006 for the Institute for Contemporary Art gave us ideas for our Agora Theater in Lelystad in Holland, which is also expressed through multi-faceted geometry and colourful appearance. In fact, all our pavilions were used as models for our projects. We also try to systematise our designs so they can be put together in modules.

VB: Would you say there is an evolution or progress in your designs from one project to the next?

BVB: Yes, always. I hope we make progress in how we design our projects. The latest project we completed is Booking.com City Campus here in Amsterdam. It no longer represents an office building typology. It is a campus, a club, and a park, all in one place. It is like stepping inside the drawings of MC Escher. There is absolutely the best possible air quality system that sucks up used air vertically and replaces it constantly with fresh air, so the air does not circulate from person to person. We are doing so much research about healthy and sustainable environments that, of course, there is progress in the quality of our buildings. People now like working in environments that feel as if they were at home or university. I believe we succeeded in creating an environment that is as desirable as any other company or university campus in the world. This is what our client told us. Interestingly, the performance of architecture can be measured now with real data. So, spaces can be compared, simulated, and improved. We do lots of post-occupancy studies. So, we are now able to finetune our buildings like cars. We now have to be aware of many new tools and principles that can improve our buildings and environments, both indoors and outdoors. 

VB: In one of his texts, Phillip Nobel described your work as “the pursuit of unity through flow, trying to achieve an architecture where space and structure unite to erase all seams.” Is this what you tried to achieve in the so-called ‘twist,’ the central element of the Arnhem Central Transfer Terminal?

BVB: Absolutely. The experience there is exactly that—seamless. The architecture there directs and guides you in the clearest possible ways. What we achieved there is a clockwise, seamless experience, a kind of celebration of travelling. Travelling used to be celebrated. Architecture can improve pedestrian traffic flow, visibility, daylight, clear wayfinding, level of comfort and safety, bring different uses together, introduce culture and art, and so on. The main organisational idea of the Transfer Hall is that there is only one central column with huge clear spans all around it. The central space there is very theatrical. It directs constant flows of people on their way to and from the train station, two bus stations (local and regional), a car garage, and bicycle parking. Despite such complexity, you can find your way at ease.

VB: You once mentioned that you are fascinated by American abstract expressionist paintings, especially by female artists such as Joan Mitchell and Helen Frankenthaler. And you also have said that you spend at least 35 hours every week painting. Could you touch on these inspirations and how they relate to your work?

BVB: To me, painting is an opportunity to do work with my own hands. I need to be bodily involved. And as far as ideas behind paintings, I have always been inspired by the experimental nature of so many abstract expressionists such as Jackson Pollock. But you are right, both Mitchell and Frankenhaler are among the most important innovators. Frankenhaler was absolutely amazing with her invention of Color Field paintings and the soak-stain technique. She reinvented abstract expressionism by breaking all possible rules by ignoring all conventions. In general, painting gives me a lot of head space. I don’t talk about my paintings a lot because people assume that if you are an architect, you can’t be an artist. But I don’t care what others say. I believe today anything is possible. I don’t see myself in just one role. In fact, now I paint even more. My atelier is bigger and my paintings are getting larger. [Laughs.]  They are huge—some are six meters long and three meters high. I feel a desire to paint very large paintings. I am now preparing a show of my latest paintings in Rome.

VB: Is there a particular connection between your architecture and paintings?

BVB: When others see them, they typically don’t see any connection. These paintings are poetic and emotional, and they tell stories. They may be very different visually but I see them as constructions in ways that are not that different from the ones I construct in my architecture. The connection is in the ways I think. And there are interesting tensions between the paintings and their titles. Most importantly, I don’t think I could work as an architect without my paintings.

VB: What would you say makes your projects common?

BVB: They are quite uplifting. They are very positive. I believe that architecture can bring you to another world, where you feel good and where people can get together and meet each other. These buildings are the right places where people can comfortably communicate with one another. I am an optimist and, hopefully, this can be found in my work.