To experience great architecture, silence is a pre-requisite. This is what Irish architect Shane de Blacam (b. 1945) has been advocating through 45 years of his practice in which he has designed some of the most distinguished public spaces across his home country. De Blacam is also the recipient of the 2023 Royal Academy Architecture Prize where his work has been acknowledged for being a 'reminder of the power of craftsmanship to create spaces where we can come together for stillness and reflection.' Churches, libraries, and universities constitute a large part of his distinguished oeuvre, and the veteran believes these edifices form the institutions of community and mean the highest calling an architect can answer to. Blacam’s reverence for quietude in making architecture comes across more poignantly to those who are acquainted with his practice or have been part of his teaching studios at the University College Dublin. In what appears to be a library-like atmosphere, each detail is rendered with a hawk’s eye, each line drawn in utter reflection. Above all, there is no rush to create.

Shane de Blacam did his bachelor’s in architecture from the University College Dublin, and master’s from the University of Pennsylvania in the United States. He alternated between the two regions by first working in London with British firm Chamberlain, Powell and Bon, and then with Louis I. Kahn in Philadelphia. In 1972, he returned to Ireland as a ‘first-year master’ at the School of Architecture, University College Dublin where his studios focused on making students learn practical skills. With De Blacam and Meagher Architects, a practice that he co-founded in 1976 with his late business partner John Meagher, the studio resolved designs with subtlety and elegance while focusing on producing good quality works through inexpensive means and utmost propriety. Some of his most significant projects include the curving brick edifice for the Cork Institute of Technology, the walled garden-inspired Firhouse Church, a soaring timber atrium installation in the renovation of the Trinity College Dublin’s dining hall, and the Samuel Beckett Theatre evoking an oak cabinet for a black box.

Speaking with STIR, the 78-year-old architect speaks about his carefulness with adjectives and looks back to the time when he worked with Kahn. De Blacam also ruminates on the worst thing that can happen to an architect and why ‘making’ is essential to architecture.

The following are edited excerpts from the conversation.

Zohra Khan: What constitutes the idea of architectural beauty for you?

Shane de Blacam: These are not words normally part of my way of talking about architecture. Words are very important in architecture. One needs to take care of the description of one’s own work. I prefer a comparative adjective (such as tall) and avoid superlative adjectives.

Zohra: How would you want to be remembered as first: an architect or an educator? Which role has been the most satisfying for you so far?

Shane: I don’t think about wanting to be remembered. My first professional concern is the buildings. Teaching was a day job that provided an income when we were starting our practice. I loved teaching but became conflicted and worried that it was time spent away from what was my other responsibility, that I should have been in my office.

Zohra: We read somewhere that you believe architecture is made through making. From your own practice’s attention to detail to your teaching practice where you emphasise for students to create everything by hand, why do you think making is essential to the discipline?

Shane: The nature of the materials we build with—concrete, stone, brick, timber—contributes to the form of a building. The materials, their structural potential, integrity and capacity, the very first mention of the name of the material already indicates the form of a building.

Public work is very important because it contributes to the institutions of society and is, maybe, more enduring in its ambition and usefulness.

Zohra: You visited buildings by Frank Llyod Wright and Mies van der Rohe when you were 19. What were those formative experiences of architecture like?

Shane: I learned the transition from the 19^th century to what it means to be a modern architect from Frank Lloyd Wright, particularly in his houses. I learned concepts of free and open space and expression of simple structures in architecture from Mies van der Rohe.

Zohra: Was architecture a clear path for you to pursue?

Shane: Yes, I never wavered or doubted the importance of architecture in human endeavour.

Zohra: Growing up, what were your fascinations and fears? A dream that you cherished, and challenges navigated?

Shane: I was terrified of violence, war and destruction of the landscape and the historic city, and that has not changed, only intensified.

Zohra: Could you look back to your earliest memory when ‘making something’ gave you tremendous joy?

Shane: I wanted to make things, to express myself, not in words, but in material and to the limit of my capability. Joy has come in the making of spaces that inspire wellbeing, and the pleasure in the capacity of institutions and people. The worst thing for an architect are things that don’t work, to fail or not to meet the unconscious expectations of people in their institutions and in the public realm.

Zohra: What have been some of the most significant learnings for you working under Louis I Kahn?

Shane: Kindred spirit, friendship, hard work and joy in his buildings. I learned a lot from my American experience of graduate education and professional practice.

Zohra: How did Kahn’s studio operate back then? Having worked closely with him, what stood out for you about the quality of work atmosphere and Kahn’s own discipline to his practice?

Shane: Kahn rented the top two floors of a five story corner building near Rittenhouse Square in downtown Philadelphia. There were approximately 30 architects employed and one or two secretaries. The architectural studio was on one floor, and model making, special projects, library and storage on the floor below. The plan was long and narrow with desks at windows on both sides of the studio, with a layout and standing height work table between. Kahn had the only single office on the corner, next to the reception and off a lift from the street at 1501 Walnut Street. Kahn reviewed architects’ work, generally drew in charcoal on yellow tracing paper over architects’ pencil drawings, as he advanced the design of projects at different stages - from inception to complete working drawings. The work atmosphere was happy, intense and frequently extended after dinner into the early morning hours and often through the night.

Zohra: Since the inception of your practice, is there a reason why you have focused your architectural repertoire on doing public buildings?

Shane: We have an equal mix of public and private works. Public work is very important because it contributes to the institutions of society and is, may be, more enduring in its ambition and usefulness.

Zohra: Is there a dominant narrative in the contemporary architectural discourse that you detest?

Shane: I regret the absence of permanence, durability, quality of building, and absence of joy in the public realm in the city.

Zohra: What are some of the projects that your practice is currently engaged in?

Shane: Office development, a hotel, public libraries, and schools.

Zohra: Any advice you would want to give to young Shane?

Shane: I think I did what I could. I might have had more luck in certain competitions and worked harder to support or persuade those who trusted us with their patronage.

Zohra: What is NEXT for you?

Shane: To complete the work I have on my desk.