{"id":258235,"date":"2025-12-01T09:04:15","date_gmt":"2025-12-01T08:04:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/aarch.dk\/?p=258235"},"modified":"2026-03-11T10:33:33","modified_gmt":"2026-03-11T09:33:33","slug":"stephen-bates-conversation","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aarch.dk\/en\/stephen-bates-conversation\/","title":{"rendered":"Stephen Bates"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>
\n

OPEN Conversation<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n

<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n

STEPHEN BATES<\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div><\/section>\n


This conversation was first published for OPEN Architecture Festival, Issue Five (2025): In the Eyes of the Ordinary.
<\/em>
In conversation with Ida Bjerga & Alexander Skovgaard Bagger Hadi
Written by Alexander Skovgaard Bagger Hadi

Estimated reading time: 14 minutes.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n

<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n\n<\/div><\/div><\/main><\/div><\/div><\/div>
\n
<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>

\u201dWhen you put yourself in the eyes of someone else, empathy naturally follows. Empathy, in my opinion, is essential to the role of an architect. Our work is an exploration, a constant investigation, and deeply personal. It addresses themes we care about, but it also requires seeing the world from other people\u2019s positions, slipping into their shoes as we create. We have an amazing job as architects. It is incredible what we can do and what we are allowed to do. It is a privilege to serve others, while also serving ourselves through an artistic investigation that hopes to increase well-being and consciousness. What a gift, not to dictate, but to raise awareness of anyone and their place in the world.
\nTo me, it is all connected to an interest in the ordinary.\u201d

The ordinary is what we see, what we experience every day but often overlook, dismissing it as secular or insigni\ufb01cant, like a drop in the ocean. In our fast-paced lives \ufb01lled with work, friends, and school, we forget to see the beauty in the everyday, striving instead for the extraordinary.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

\n
<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>

\u201dWhen you put yourself in the eyes of someone else, empathy naturally follows. Empathy, in my opinion, is essential to the role of an architect. Our work is an exploration, a constant investigation, and deeply personal. It addresses themes we care about, but it also requires seeing the world from other people\u2019s positions, slipping into their shoes as we create. We have an amazing job as architects. It is incredible what we can do and what we are allowed to do. It is a privilege to serve others, while also serving ourselves through an artistic investigation that hopes to increase well-being and consciousness. What a gift, not to dictate, but to raise awareness of anyone and their place in the world.
\nTo me, it is all connected to an interest in the ordinary.\u201d

The ordinary is what we see, what we experience every day but often overlook, dismissing it as secular or insigni\ufb01cant, like a drop in the ocean. In our fast-paced lives \ufb01lled with work, friends, and school, we forget to see the beauty in the everyday, striving instead for the extraordinary.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>

\n

When I\u2019m asked what \u201dthe ordinary\u201d is, I think back to the \ufb01rst time I watched Perfect Days by Wim Wenders. I remember thinking this must be what it means to embrace the ordinary. The protagonist, Hirayama, works as a toilet cleaner in Tokyo. At \ufb01rst glance, it seems trivial. His colleague Takashi even asks why he cares so much about his job. But Hirayama \ufb01nds beauty in the everyday: glancing up at tree branches, noticing shadows re\ufb02ected on buildings. These small, quiet moments, the ones we usually overlook are what make his days \u201cperfect.\u201d I sometimes think back to a conversation I had earlier this year with Jonathan Foote, a professor at Aarhus School of Architecture. It wasn\u2019t about the ordinary directly, but during a discussion on architectural history, he said something that stuck with me. When we\u2019re on the move \u2014 biking to school, taking the train or the bus \u2014 we tend to put on blinders: headphones in, book open, eyes on a screen. We stop noticing the small things, the sounds, the smells, even how a bus manages to turn without braking.<\/p>\n

At \ufb01rst glance, Stephen Bates\u2019 work might not seem astonishing but that\u2019s the point. His practice, Sergison Bates architects, which he co-founded with Jonathan Sergison, is rooted in a sensitivity to the overlooked: how a material feels and speaks to us, the value of locality and heritage, and how we inhabit space. Bates doesn\u2019t chase spectacle. Instead, he pays attention to the kinds of architecture that quietly shape our lives. This awareness of the overlooked de\ufb01nes much of Sergison Bates\u2019 work. Since the beginning, their focus has been on the seemingly unremarkable, the everyday spaces that frame how we live. Rather than pursuing novelty, they raise our awareness of what\u2019s already there: the atmosphere of a room, the way a handle sits on a door, the weight of housing as social infrastructure. Bates sees architecture as both a personal investigation and a public responsibility, a discipline rooted in empathy and in seeing the world from someone else\u2019s point of view. That\u2019s what made me curious to speak with him and find out what does the ordinary mean to him?<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>

<\/div>
<\/div>

THE ORDINARY IN EVERYDAY LIFE<\/h2>\n

\u201cWe were interested in the ordinary elements of the city, lots of things to work on and work with.\u201d Bates begins by highlighting how broad the term ordinary really is. For him, it evokes nostalgia, a memory of a time when there was a bigger conversation around the everyday, a shared interest in what was right in front of us: \u201cSeeing opportunities in making spaces and connecting to the atmosphere of what was already there.\u201d This heightened awareness of the simple actions and interactions that shape our environment, our city, or just a room is the foundation of Sergison Bates\u2019 practice. Early in their career, they began adjusting small things people took for granted, like raising a door handle. Bates \ufb01rst did this at home: with small children around, he raised the handle by exactly 1,127 mm, just high enough so they couldn\u2019t reach it. As a result, everyone else had to lift their hand slightly higher, a subtle but impactful shift. Historically, door handle heights have varied, and Bates re\ufb02ects on how Modernism established a wave of standardisations \u2013 some quite arbitrary: \u201dIt was taken as a given that a door handle should be set at a certain height, when historically that was never the case. So, this interest in the ordinary is a bit nostalgic, but it\u2019s a sort of bedrock.\u201d<\/p>\n

He circles back to the name of the festival, In The Eyes Of The Ordinary, which he \ufb01nds compelling. To him, it implies constant empathy, something deeply personal. His work is shaped by the need to see the world through others\u2019 eyes \u2013 a privilege and responsibility: \u201cAs architects, we have an amazing job, don\u2019t we? It\u2019s incredible what we can do. That we\u2019re allowed to do this. It\u2019s a privilege to serve others and develop our work through artistic investigation.\u201d It\u2019s not just about designing spaces; it\u2019s about fostering well-being. For Bates, this is inseparable from his interest in the ordinary.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>\n<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>

\n

(SOCIAL) HOUSING AS THE ORDINARY<\/h2>\n

This deep interest in the ordinary explains why Sergison Bates have worked so extensively in social housing. Bates recalls the early days of their career in post-Thatcherite London, when the social housing sector had been decimated. At the time they were working in parts of East London that were considered banal, while some of their peers were designing museums and jetting off to more glamorous commissions. The 1950s and \u201960s were marked by progressive efforts in public housing, not just in the UK. Bates recalls how, in the 1940s, Peter Smithson joined the architecture department of the London County Council. That was what it meant to be a good architect, not chasing fame: \u201cWe were interested in social housing, which we saw as the glue that holds a city together.\u201d He speaks about the typology itself, its repetition, its sameness as something valuable. It provides a backdrop to the more expressive buildings that punctuate the urban fabric. In recent years, he feels we\u2019ve lost sight of this. Cities now aim to be \ufb01lled with self-conscious buildings, many of which simply don\u2019t hold interest after a few visits. Bates and his team wanted to challenge that: \u201cWe were interested in the ordinary components of the city, lots of things to work on and with.\u201d<\/p>\n

This led to our next question: do we need to rethink domestic space and housing design to respond to the changing demographics and new ways of life in an increasingly diverse society? For Bates, this is a vital question. He has always challenged conventional housing models. His newest book, Tent Poles in the Ground, re\ufb02ects on cultural and societal shifts particularly changing household structures: \u201cHousing doesn\u2019t seem to be responding to the shift in diversity and opportunity and options for living.\u201d He argues this is largely due to the commodification of housing as a tradable asset. Developers market the same standardised models because they know it will sell. And while he understands their logic, he\u2019s critical of the system: \u201cI think it\u2019s frightful that planning authorities think it\u2019s okay, and unacceptable that architects just sit back and do what developers want. You\u2019re not always in the driver\u2019s seat but you should be looking for shifts.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n<\/div><\/div>

<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n

Citing that more people in Europe now live alone than in family homes, Bates argues against cramming identical studio \ufb02ats into buildings. Instead, he sees potential in cross-generational and collective living solutions that are widespread in some cultures, but generally disregarded or neglected in most Western countries: \u201cI\u2019m not saying we should all live that way but, as architects, we should be working on providing a broader range of living options.\u201d He applauds housing competitions in northern Europe that require a percentage of collective dwellings alongside standard apartments. He recalls a 2001 project designed in response to a competition, Innovation in Housing, that aimed to accommodate culturally diverse residents in East London. Looking back, he sees young architects today asking the same questions he did two decades ago.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>

<\/div>
<\/div>

UNDERSTAND ORIGINS<\/h2>\n

When asked what makes a good architect today, Bates begins by stressing the importance of understanding origins and questioning assumed truths. He believes today\u2019s students receive a broader education than his generation did, but warns against accepting conventions acritically: \u201cI say to young architects: understand origins. Don\u2019t take things as truths. With Modernist education, you\u2019re probably getting a broader view than we did \u2014 but still, question where things came from. In 16 years as Professor of Urbanism and Housing at TU Munich, Bates has used teaching as a platform to explore all aspects of housing in depth. He believes buildings should be conceived as an infrastructure of flexible rooms that are not designed for specific uses.

The goal? Resilience: \u201cI\u2019ve been fostering that skill set, to make speci\ufb01c projects that are tied to place, but resilient enough to live well beyond their \ufb01rst and second use.\u201d Going back to Modernism, which, to succeed, had to create its own set of \u201ctruths\u201d and codify them into laws, into culture, the question becomes: Where did it all start? He gestures to the table on our video call: \u201cA stupid one, because it\u2019s sitting in front of me. Why is a table \ufb01xed in space? Because originally, it wasn\u2019t. The \ufb01rst tables were supported on trestles, stored against the wall and brought out when needed. Rooms changed by day, night, and season. And now? We live in static domestic interiors. Why is that?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>

These questions matter. Bates sees the present shaped by the climate crisis and rapid change, as a time for architects to think radically differently. In the past, there were certainties: you designed a joint, de\ufb01ned proportions, chose a material. Now every decision is layered with environmental, legal and ethical considerations. \u201cSo, as a new architect, you must think differently. And it\u2019s not easy. How do you make architecture? And what is architecture?\u201d In a world where reuse and sustainability have become buzzwords, Bates cautions against the temptation to romanticise. Reuse isn\u2019t inherently good, it\u2019s not ethical by default: \u201cIf you reuse something, it can still be… well, not very good. It might not help the city or the world at all.\u201d Critical thinking is essential. So is empathy. \u201cI don\u2019t see much empathy in current architecture, but I see it increasingly in the younger generation. That\u2019s hopeful.\u201d

He acknowledges that older architects still have in\ufb02uence, particularly in the climate debate. But he\u2019s not prescriptive. He doesn\u2019t tell people what they should \ufb01nd important: \u201cI\u2019m not evangelical. Everyone has to \ufb01gure out what they think matters.\u201d And that\u2019s part of the beauty of architecture for him, that you de\ufb01ne what kind of architect you want to be. It\u2019s not a given. It requires thought, experimentation, and, as he puts it, bloody hard work: \u201cThat\u2019s why I feel so privileged to be an architect. I\u2019m learning about my place in the world and my contribution to it while earning a living and serving people. It\u2019s a beautiful, holistic act. But it\u2019s bloody hard.\u201d Looking ahead, Bates is realistic. He doesn\u2019t believe practices like Sergison Bates that design, build, and hand over keys will exist in the same way in the future: \u201cWe\u2019ll just be seen as a design of\ufb01ce. Because at some point, AI will be generating perfect, coordinated construction drawings within a BIM model. That will be the reality. So… how do we make meaningful work in that reality?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>

<\/div>\n\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>
\n
<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>

MATERIALS AND CONTRACTORS<\/h2>\n

This brings us to the subject of materiality, something deeply important to Bates. He\u2019s frustrated by how slow the construction industry is to change: \u201cBuilders love to build what they know \u2014 and hate to build what they don\u2019t. It\u2019s partly laziness, but mostly it\u2019s a risk. It makes prices go up, so they avoid it.\u201d He shares a story from KANAL, the contemporary arts complex they are working on in Brussels, reusing a 1930s building. Despite the fact the project was won on the premise of reuse, the contractor kept trying to convince the client to replace , rather than preserve elements of the building: \u201cThey said: \u2018We could just throw out the old glazing sections and build new ones that look exactly the same. It would be so much faster and cheaper.\u201d The contractor was in denial about the project\u2019s intent: to touch lightly, to preserve as much as possible. In another Brussels project at Tour & Taxis, the team faced similar pressures. Yet for Bates, materials have always been central. Their studio\u2019s heart is the material library, the space where they gather and pin up ideas: \u201cWe\u2019ve always been interested in how materials contribute to form, to presence, to meaning.\u201d Lately, they\u2019ve been expanding this thinking, considering not just what materials, but where they come from. Can we use local materials? Can we avoid materials that require energy-intensive manufacturing? Can we \ufb01nd more ecological options? But it\u2019s not just about choosing better materials, it\u2019s about dealing with a system that is not ready: \u201cThere\u2019s no regulation in place. New materials need certi\ufb01cation. That takes time and money. You need a client who\u2019s willing to invest, and they don\u2019t grow on trees.\u201d<\/p>\n

So, while sustainability is more critical than ever, Bates also sees how diluted the conversation has become: \u201cThe environmental debate is such a worn-out theme, touched too lightly by social media and politics. But as architects, we need to unpack it and examine it critically. Each project has to de\ufb01ne its own role in sustainability.\u201d On the project M\u00f6nckebergstra\u00dfe mixed-use building in Hamburg with a dedicated sustainability budget, Sergison Bates had initially proposed a timber structure with a low-carbon concrete platform. However, obtaining building permission proved impossible: \u201cThere were no assessment criteria in the city of Hamburg for a full timber frame building. So we couldn\u2019t build it because it could not be judged to be compliant. \u201dThey adapted the project with a hybrid of steel timber, and prefabricated cassettes. As the ground keeps shifting, Bates says you have to be agile. In another project in Hasselt, in Belgium, they\u2019re building in a completely circular way. Two existing buildings will be retained, and a third added. Before deciding what material to use for the facade cladding, they are waiting to see what becomes available, what can be sourced for reuse: \u201cIn our early projects, we picked a material and designed the building around it. Now, it\u2019s the opposite. You don\u2019t know the material, so what\u2019s the conceptual \ufb01x? It\u2019s not straightforward.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

HOW TO TRANSFORM A BUILDING<\/h2>\n

Transformation is a central theme in Bates\u2019 work. How do we ensure buildings remain relevant? What does it mean to design something that won\u2019t become obsolete? He is clear: we can\u2019t predict the future, but we can design with it in mind. He gives the example of their project for the Hult International Business School in London \u2014 a complex, layered site. What Sergison Bates worked with wasn\u2019t a grand old building, but a former brewery from the 19th century, connected to a speculative 1990s of\ufb01ce building. Instead of maximising rentable space by squeezing in more \ufb02oors, they made a counterintuitive choice and aligned the new structure with the tall ceilings of the old brewery. In terms of development, it made no sense. But Bates saw value in structures both old and new. \u201cTrying to explain to heritage of\ufb01cers that they were equally important made for a very interesting conversation. The instinct is always to think that old things are valuable and new things are not.\u201d They had to educate planners and heritage authorities to see meaning in the entire building\u2019s history.

For Bates, transformation isn\u2019t about preservation for its own sake, but rather about understanding a building\u2019s life: \u201cIt\u2019s really important for us to see our work as contingent. We talk about the \u2018un\ufb01nished\u2019 a lot. At KANAL in Brussels, our work isn\u2019t about \ufb01xing the former historical garage. It\u2019s about opening the building up to new uses, and allowing for appropriation, adjustment, and change.\u201d That might mean preserving certain materials and elements, while radically transforming others. It\u2019s not about making everything precious \u2014 it\u2019s about making choices. \u201cWhen you say, \u2018This is valuable, that\u2019s less valuable,\u2019 you\u2019re still taking a subjective stance. And that\u2019s okay.\u201d At KANAL, Bates says he could walk through the site and point out many different responses to reuse. Some elements are restored, some are reinterpreted, others are repaired. There\u2019s no single conceptual approach: \u201cIt\u2019s not one single concept, it\u2019s a whole bunch of concepts that come together. What guides them is a feeling of relevance and appropriateness, and respect for the life of the building.”<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>

<\/div>
<\/div>

DESIGNING BEYOND FIRST USE<\/h2>\n

So, how do we design buildings that endure? Bates emphasizes that you can\u2019t guarantee continuity, but you can build in the potential for it. At their Hampstead mansion block project, Sergison Bates worked with the idea that older people tend to spend more time at home. The structure is based on a \u201cforest\u201d model: pretensioned concrete \ufb02at slabs and columns with no grid, spaced like trees. This allowed for flats with a set of flexible, adaptable set of interior spaces, which can be redefined to meet changing needs.The structure doesn\u2019t dictate layout; it enables it. That\u2019s what excites him: designing architecture as a lasting, intelligent infrastructure that serves the city, while remaining open to change. \u201cThis approach is integral to everything we do, because we believe in the city, and in the role architecture can play in making good cities.\u201d He is critical of conversations on sustainability that overlook this civic responsibility. We talk about carbon emissions, but not about longevity.

Bates, controversially, defends concrete \u2014 not the cheap, polluting kind, but long-lasting structural concrete: \u201cLow-carbon aggregate (GGBS) concrete used to make a structure that lasts 200 years, is a lot more sustainable. So yes, I\u2019m a fan of concrete. I think architects should reclaim structure.\u201d He believes architects have lost control over structural decisions, leaving too much to engineers: \u201cThey\u2019ll ask the engineer, \u2018Where does the column go? How big should it be?\u2019 But structure is part of the art of form-making, it\u2019s composition.\u201d He recalls walking through Synthes Headquarters with Peter M\u00e4rkli, who told him something that struck him: \u201cClients often say not to spend money on marble or \ufb01nishes. But if you say: \u2018This beam needs to be this long,\u2019 or \u2018We need this many columns,\u2019 they\u2019ll just accept it.\u201d Bates sees buildings as layered entities: some elements will last \ufb01ve years, others ten, others \ufb01fty. The architect must decide which is which. For Sergison Bates, the structure is always the lasting element. \u201cWe design beyond \ufb01rst use. We design buildings that can change, adapt, and outlive us.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>\n\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>

\n

Before ending our video call, we asked Bates a closing question: \u201cWhat are your hopes for the OPEN Festival? What do you hope to contribute?\u201d

He didn\u2019t hesitate to reply that he was looking forward to seeing his dear friend Thomas Bo (Prorector, Aarhus School of Architecture): \u201cFirst of all, I hope to see my friend Thomas. I met him a long time ago, and I think we\u2019re about the same age. We both have the same number of children. I really appreciate his research in brick\u2014I think we came together because of bricks.\u201d It was a response neither of us expected, as we thought Bates would say he was most looking forward to sharing his knowledge with us (he did say this later, of course). It is interesting that, having moved \ufb02uidly between the poetic and the practical, the personal and the civic, he went back, once again, to what quietly captivates him: the ordinary. It\u2019s the small, overlooked things that make people like Bates excited and happy. When you have a tight schedule as an architect, father, and husband, sometimes it\u2019s the ordinary moments, like seeing a friend you found through a shared love of bricks, that matter most. That\u2019s it. Maybe the ordinary reveals itself in ways you never anticipated, but by slowing down and noticing, you start to pick up these small hints of the extraordinary everyday.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/section>\n<\/div><\/div>

<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div>
\n
<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n

This conversation was first published for OPEN Architecture Festival, Issue Five (2025): In the Eyes of the Ordinary<\/em>.<\/span>
\n
The issue was produced by students from the Aarhus School of Architecture:
Ida Bjerga, Osmo Hadad-Lange, Alexander Skovgaard Bagger Hadi, and Birke Langkj\u00e6r Jakobsen.
<\/span>
The non-profit project was supported by The Dreyer Foundation.<\/span><\/p>\n

Image credits: 1) Sergison Bates Architects, 2) David Grandorge, 3) Sergison Bates Architects, 4) Johan Dehlin, 5) Johan Dehlin, 6) Secci Smith, 7) Kim Zwarts<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>

\n
<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>

RELATED CONTENT<\/h2>\n<\/div><\/section><\/div>
<\/div>
<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>
\n
\"OPEN26<\/a>
Podcast <\/span><\/span>

Lacol<\/a><\/h3><\/span><\/header><\/div>