Trees and Rivers as Clients
When Daniel Baroš and Marcel Šípka founded their studio, their primary desire was to build houses for their families and friends. However, they soon contacted public authorities and began to realise ever larger projects. Today, Henkai Architekti employs a total of seven colleagues at two locations, in Prague and Rožnov. Their portfolio now includes all types of construction projects: In addition to residential buildings, they are responsible for shops, office buildings, camping cabins and numerous public sector buildings such as schools, information centres - or viewpoints in the forest. Even though they emphasise that their projects all have their own individuality, they are united by a certain playful poetry and clear aesthetics. One feature that also links the projects is wood as a building material. Marcel Šípka explains: "We try to use local materials, local layouts and contemporary perspectives. That is our main approach."
The commissions for the municipality of Prostřední Bečva stand out in particular. Whereas in most places, public buildings such as bus stops or sports grounds are designed in a utilitarian style that neglects aesthetic requirements, the people in the Prostřední Bečva region are more fortunate: Henkai Architekti took an unconventional approach to the project. The results are bus stops across the valleys. These are modular, box-shaped structures resembling "flowerpots on legs." By multiplying the modules, the size of the bus stops can be expanded. As the large municipality of Prostřední Bečva stretches across several valleys, public transport is an important element of mobility. To improve comfort and safety, further bus stops are planned in a similarly networked architectural form. But that's not all: "These two projects, the Bus Stops and Pustevny Gateway, are a start. However, we want to design all parts of the infrastructure and be architects for the entirety of our local environment," explains Marcel Šípka. Next on the agenda is another car park and associated building.
Whether this openness to their approach is typical of the region is something they both deny. "The fact that this is possible here is mainly due to our relationship with the region and the mayor of Prostřední Bečva. I don't think it's common in the Czech Republic or in Moravia in general," says Marcel Šípka and continues: "Due to the relatively sparse population, we have a lot of countryside at our disposal, so I don't think it would be easy in Prague or in larger cities, but who knows? We would of course be prepared to do something like this on a larger scale." Marcel Šípka describes their approach as rational: "Our properties are reliable and affordable." Exactly the right combination for public buildings, as a project in Vigantice shows: When designing the outdoor area of a kindergarten and a primary school, Henkai Architekti emphasised compactness and multifunctionality. The centre of the garden consists of an outdoor classroom with a schoolyard that serves as an assembly room or stage for events and can also be used outside school hours. The outdoor classroom naturally separates the play area of the sports field and the schoolyard. The unit also includes an educational garden in the south-east corner, which essentially consists of raised beds to familiarise children with vegetables and other plants. This creates an inspiring and functional space for education and leisure, a place of discovery, fun and relaxation in harmony with nature – it could be so simple.
In reality, however, it is not so easy to realise contemporary architecture in the countryside, emphasises Daniel Baroš: "The people are very conservative. It's amusing, because they think that the buildings that are built there have local parameters. But that's not the case: the existing architecture is rather a mixture from the Alps, from Romania or from Germany. They think it's local because it's their home." And Marcel Šípka adds: "I don't believe that Czech architecture as such exists at all. It is part of European architecture and Christian cultural heritage. In the past, the architecture in Moravia, where we mainly work, was Venetian architecture with influences from Romania; it is a local mixture of traditions. That is why it is difficult to say whether our architecture has something Czech or Moravian about it. We try to fit into the context of the surroundings and at the same time be distinctive, even if that is not our main goal." Daniel Baroš adds: "We don't have a list of goals that we have to tick off for every project, we rather proceed very intuitively."
Marcel Šípka has developed a concept for the revitalisation of a mining area near the confluence of the Vltava and Berounka rivers in Prague. Mining will cease there in twenty to thirty years, after which the destroyed landscape will have to be rebuilt. "Soutok" is a first visualisation that offers a proposal to the public of what this area could look like in the future. His fascination with landscape design lies in becoming the director of the visitor's experience of nature: "We want to create spaces that influence the way people look at the landscape and move around in it. When visitors see the spaces we have created through our eyes, it gives me great pleasure." The landscaped walkway above a quarry in Horní Bečva is a good example of this. Another thing plays an important role for Daniel Baroš: "We like designing public spaces and especially landscapes because it's a different approach than planning for people. Instead of discussing a client's wishes for their new house, we can communicate with mountains, stones and water when designing landscapes. Meetings with investors and authorities in landscape design look like this: we stroll through the woods or swim in the lake - a very peaceful way of negotiating. Afterwards, we emphasise the things that have a quality that we want to share with the users later."
This close connection with and sensory experience of nature is a recurring element of Henkai Architekti's work. "The bell tower of Pustevny Gateway, for example, symbolises the human presence in the world and is part of a visit with all the senses. It is intended to symbolise man in the landscape and his spirituality," explains Marcel Šípka. Daniel Baroš goes on to explain what they consider spiritual about it: "I imagine myself walking through the landscape. It's winter, it's snowing, a snowstorm is coming, and you don't know where you are. Suddenly you hear the bell tower. It tells you that you are at least somewhere. You hear the sound of the bell calling you and your certainty grows: you will find the bell tower and the way home. For us, that's something spiritual."