Beyond The Lingo

By Latifa Al Khayat

To any close friends reading this, I am sure I have repeated this conversation to you before, so apologies in advance. Usually, I wouldn’t regard myself as one to write, but with an issue title as such, I finally gained the courage to share an opinion through something a bit more personal.

Over the past few years, while studying, observing and witnessing architecture, I’ve developed a lot of thought towards our attitude when it comes to the title, the ‘architect’. Having had inevitable conversations about architecture with those around me, from those who were intrigued, to those uninterested in our niche terminology, I’ve come to realise the universality of what we practice. Ultimately, what we do is create and form for the people. Hearing what these ‘ordinary’ people have to say about spaces, through their humble opinions, captivated me.

Long ago, people, as end users of their own built environment, were all architects of their surroundings. We often view and appreciate this idea as a primitive concept that we have moved well away from in this world. However, I think it is about time this concept is reborn and utilised to help us design habitable settings that fulfilled user needs. This means involvement beyond brief writing.

This leads me to a project that very much influenced my entry into the field of Architecture. Designed by an Accountant, my Arabian-Japanese hybrid of a family home in Busaiteen, Bahrain, successfully offers us what we need from a dwelling. It continuously makes me question the extent to which all people are designers by default, regardless of whether they hold a certificate to prove it or not.

Construction of the house began shortly after a small orange tree was planted into the centre of the plot. The house literally wraps around the growing tree, creating a courtyard to protect the plant lover’s treasure from the wind and sun it is exposed to. Quite relatable to the primitive man protecting sources of life I suppose, and it works.

As a family with a strong connection to nature, this courtyard offers us a green view out. It also creates a transparency, through this central void, to bring us closer together. The circulation around the courtyard frames our movements and keeps us aware of one another’s presence.

Moreover, the aspiring busy artists of the household are constantly present. Rather than being locked away, enclosed for hours, they are within reach of the rest of the family’s whereabouts. Narrow studio spaces in the mezzanine overlook the open plan living, dining and kitchen spaces, maintaining coexistence through a visual and spatial connection.

The Accountant who knew my family’s habits so well happened to be my mother. During the design process, she identified our comforts, hobbies and routines. She planned accordingly, positioning the spaces we inhibit throughout the day based on these routines, on waking up and taking off to our individual whereabouts, and on reuniting later on in the day in the shared space, central to our private bedrooms.

This daily reunion takes place though the seasons by the courtyard, where we watch our orange tree grow and blossom.

I used such a personal example because it allowed me to witness first-hand the possibilities and potential when end users take design decisions themselves. Simple intentions and aims can be translated into beautifully functioning spaces. As users of public and private spaces, people adjust and alter their environments to best suit themselves, for they know themselves best. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to degrade our profession or practitioners. Not every Accountant can translate how they aspire to dwell onto paper. However, as those given the responsibility to offer them something as close to that aspiration, it is important that we become better listeners.

Listeners to simple, humble words and opinions that transcend our jargon, and enlighten our design process.