This is a story about an archive that could sit in the heart of Appingedam, Groningen, commemorating two diasporic cultures which, against all the odds, found refuge in this quiet, mediaeval city.

The first Ashkenazi Jewish population saw its birth in Appingedam, Groningen in the early 17th century. Despite centuries of difficulties the community flourished in this small rural city for centuries until it was all but eliminated in the 1940s, starting with their forceful eviction to the Dutch concentration/transit camp Westerbork. My grandmother is the last survivor of this community.

After the war, Kamp Westerbork - renamed Schattenberg - saw the arrival of a new community, the Moluccans. Intended to be a temporary stay whilst the Dutch negotiated their independence as a state from Indonesia, the years saw little progress as it became evident that this temporary stay was quickly becoming permanent. In 1960 it was proclaimed that the Moluccan community would be rehoused permanently across the province of Groningen, with the first city of permanent dwelling being Appingedam. A city which can be walked across in 25 minutes now bore witness to the birth of two significant communities within the Netherlands, centuries apart. Although there could never have been any crossover (one community terminated prior to the other starting) this is the story of how to analyse the intrinsically spiritual connections between two vastly different communities, and how a new syncretic direction for commemoration - one the focuses on the power of a multiplicity of memory rather than the privacy and exclusivity of a single collective remembrance - can be brought forward.

The sauna in Estonian culture is seen as a necessity of life, an instinct. It is the biggest social network in Estonia and the oldest. The sauna is a place where Estonian people meet, reconnect, and share on a physical and spiritual level. By being naked in this heat, one re-experiences its body, to reconnect the physical, mental, and spiritual relationship with one-self, others, and nature.

Whereas gentrification is on the rise in the Kopli area it is important to create spaces where local people can meet, socialize, relax and thrive in there neighborhood. To have a space where they feel connected with themselves, the sea, nature, and their surroundings. The chosen location near the sea has the possibility of connecting people and water. People need each other and nature to thrive.

The site-specific design of these four buildings allows the people of Tallinn to reconnect with themselves, each other, and nature in a mental, physical and spiritual way. The saunas and its buildings function as a place of sensorial reconnection, through materials, nature, and social facilities.

My project is a tourist center located in the Tallinn harbor area. Its functions include tourist guidance, exhibitions, and a bus station. Through this project, I aim to provide tourists with a
deeper understanding and appreciation of the city. Additionally, besides serving tourists, it offers a comfortable public space for the surrounding urban environment, enhancing the connection with nearby areas.

It is designed to be a transitional space within the urban environment and the first impression visitors have of the city. Therefore, I have paid special attention to the connection between the
interior and exterior environments of the building. The center utilizes Estonia's most iconic wood
and recycled limestone, integrating them with the existing limestone walls on the site. My hope is
for it to become a window through which people can learn about the city.

My project is an adaptive reuse architectural project of an existing warehouse supermarket into a film production house sited in Lasnamäe, the Soviet built district of Tallinn, Estonia. The design encompasses all programs necessary for the complete film making process, including a 2164 sq.m soundstage with a clear height of 14m. Besides being an infrastructure, one third of the building area is dedicated to the public with programs such as a winter garden, exhibition spaces, café and restaurant. The Southern façade of the building also acts as a cinema screen for a drive-in theatre in its expansive car parking area.

The Mustakivi Art Museum serves as a cultural bridge, reestablishing the connection between the Lasnamäe district and Tallinn's city center. The museum, inspired by 'The Atmosphere of Silence,' aims to provide a refuge/ healing environment from the outside world. The definition of silence in this project refers to one's ability to listen inwards, experience inner peacefulness, and relish meaningful moments in the present. Emphasizing natural elements, especially water, as the medium to foster 'silence', the museum features spaces designed for both community gathering and solitary healing. Besides integrating water features, the building design, including façade decision, skylight integration, and the positioning of spaces above or underground, employs different levels of transparency to control the inclusion or exclusion of views, thereby shaping the interior atmosphere and user experience.

Responding to its location in the heart of the Mustakivi subdistrict in Lasnamäe and acknowledging the district's Soviet historical background, the Mustakivi Art Museum, as a new proposal, significantly enhances the existing site condition. Addressing the cultural gap left by the Soviet planning era, the art museum fills the void of cultural amenities in the area. It revitalizes public spaces on site and enriches residents' daily experiences by injecting new vibrancy into the urban fabric.

This project investigated ways to reinvent and reinsert value into functionless, unimportant objects and places. The site chosen - Maleva Quarter, was formerly a brick manufacturing facility that was part of the Soviet military production ecosystem in Kopli. After Estonia’s independence, the factory facilities were fragmented and left behind as a collection of odd spaces. Thus, a recycled brick factory was proposed to reintroduce the material flows that existed in the past and insert relevance to the surrounding fringe spaces.

The methodology utilised was urban mining, which involves reclaiming construction waste and turning it into productive architectural components. The design exploration was centred around available materials in the area, resulting in a material-focused design, much like spolia - where the structure of old buildings drives the project’s visual and structural expression. Four building strategies were outlined depending on the structural systems of the existing buildings, the desired spatial quality and the characteristics of waste materials catalogued.

In conclusion, this project aims to encourage a more sustainable and resource-efficient practice in architecture amidst the depletion of building resources. Adopting this mindset could lead to more resilient and adaptive urban environments that honour their past while innovatively preparing for the future.

P5 presentation of Hadassah Fidder in the studio of Methods of Analysis and Imagination.

An architectural exploration set in Tallinn, the capital city of Estonia, on how to develop a vacant- and unfinished concrete structure in a cooperative and bottom-up way into a mixed-use living environment that provides people and their communities with more agency to shape their physical environment and their lives. Distilling principles for agency from research through reading and writing, analysing precedents and doing design research resulting in the design of an incremental-, modular-, flexible- and self-built system that facilitates the infill of the failed Porto Franco development at the harbour of Tallinn. Supposed to be 150.000 m² commercial space but has never finished because of a corruption scandal over which the government fell and the prime minister had to step down. Leaving the city with an unfinished- and unused space and an opportunity to redefine the role of the architect and the way in which we develop the environment around us.

This graduation project for the studio "A Matter of Scale" at the Technical University of Delft addresses an architectural intervention in Tallinn's coastal zone, focusing on the ruins of the Pirita Convent. Established by St. Bridget’s Rule merchants, the Gothic-style convent operated from 1407 to 1575 before being destroyed. Today, it serves as a tourist site and event venue, necessitating temporary structures for functionality. This project proposes a sensitive, year-round architectural intervention that respects the historical elements while introducing a community music school and event space.

Four key themes guided the design process: historical connection, spatial organisation, sensory experience, and local (natural) materials. Historical research informed the layout, proportions, and functions of new additions, preserving the convent's essence while incorporating contemporary elements. Spatial organisation considered visitor flow and accessibility, ensuring logical routing and wheelchair access. Sensory experience focused on sight, sound, and touch, maintaining the visual prominence of the ruins, optimizing acoustics for the music school, and preserving the limestone's texture. Local natural materials were prioritized to minimize environmental impact and support the local economy, while also following the original St. Bridget Rules.

The project illustrates integrating ruins with new structures, balancing preservation and modern use, and offers a practical example for similar historical sites. By engaging with Tallinn's community and stakeholders, this design aims to enhance the cultural and functional value of the Pirita Convent, presenting a vision for its potential as a year-round public space.

This project is an attempt to create an urban condenser that will utilize the concept of food, to bring back the lost connection between two residential areas Kalamaja and Pelgulinn, in Tallinn. People become familiar with all the stages of food production, from planting to cooking and from consuming to recycling and reusing the left-over materials. Food is used as a cultural carrier that has the power to tell a story about the history of a country. In my case, a culinary school is incorporated in a public building and a restaurant that through its recipes and materials tells the story of Kalamaja, opens the school to the public and connects the people and their surroundings. I try to zone my design in private classes that is followed up by a mixed-use space were students interact with visitors during the process of learning and cooking. The facade forms a public "skin" that wraps around the main building which extends to bridges that run from Kalamaja to Pelgulinn. The building forms a metaphor for the old bridge that used to connect those areas and keeps the memory alive for the locals. Parts of the floor and a blind wall are composed by bricks found in ruins around the area to give the sense of layered time (old materials and new) on the thresholds found around the building.

This research addresses how different ways of making entail different ways of knowing,
exploring how material production and knowledge intersect and inform one another. Specifically,
it investigates the knowledge within crafts — examining how skill is developed in the way
craftspeople work – and hypothesises that the material and social conditions surrounding craft
practice produce a specific rationality: a process-oriented way of knowing. These considerations
are brought together in a theory of knowledge in the material productions – an epistemology of
making – whose tenets are subsequentially tested within the field of architecture. Through this
set of conceptual and theoretical tools, the research thus analyses the dynamics of knowing
and making in architecture. Ultimately, this study reflects on the implications of approaching
architecture from the vantage point of its production, offering valuable insights into the dialectics
of design and construction.@en

The project takes its basis in a concern for the future liveability of European cities in regard to public space, public buildings, and public life, looking specifically at the capital city of Budapest in Hungary. Studying internal migration patterns within Hungary, it is clear that while the Budapest conglomerate region have grown in population over the last 30 years, there has been a negative net migration to the Budapest inner city. The urban population is choosing to a larger degree to move to village suburbs in the conglomerate region, mainly due to the access to nature and recreational space that these places offer, suggesting that the city is failing to supply an attractive alternative for the local living environment of the inner city. Though large efforts and funds are already dedicated to address this, my research and design questions the impact current developments in the city have on the perceived recreational value of the living environment within the local city block. The project investigates the core concept of “publicness” and the separation of public and private realms, aiming to challenge the ways public space and public buildings are configured and realized.

The investigation resulted in a design for a multifunctional building and an urban green strategy which aims at addressing the “everyday” aspects of public space and public lives. The focus lies on ways in which public buildings to a larger degree can offer spaces for everyday activities rather than curated experiences and ways which these spaces can become appropriable for users to utilise as they please and in the ways they see fit. The specific mixite of functions and the configuration of program around loosely programmed “in-between” spaces has been crucial to achieve a degree of ambiguity in terms of use and purpose of space, something which becomes a driver for appropriability and the perception of public space as an extension of the private living sphere.

The architecture of Tbilisi, specifically, the domestic vernacular dwellings mostly found in the old town, have seen various transformations over time initiated by different actors, usually by inhabitants themselves. This could be seen as non-architectural architecture or the architecture after architecture. Be it a rotten railing of the staircase tightly secured with a cut wire, or even a dilapidated frontal part of a facade supported by a couple of wooden planks as not to fall down - these interventions are important elements of the city’s visual identity. However, vernacular architecture in Tbilisi with all creative transformations is currently collapsing because of the lack of attention given to it. Therefore, this work concentrates on extracting the values of this fragile layer and applying them to the architecture itself in order to diversify the current build environment and its processes for a more holistic approach.

This research booklet can be read along the film: In Transit: An Exploration into Subway Space, as an experimental study into the everyday experience of architecture. The film, story and essays are an attempt to better understand the relationship between architecture and human life and to question the way the subject of architecture can be studied. The triadic work is a layered study that combines actual footage of subway systems and stations, which is edited into a narrative. This narrative is structured and accompanied by a written account of a fictional figure, who starts as an outsider and slowly progresses into an everyday commuter of subway space. Lastly, each chapter is accompanied by an academic essay about the nature of the architectural phenomena and the observed phenomena through exploring a number of theories about perception, atmosphere, materials, semiotics, habits, space, time, rhythms, the everyday, and public space.

Overall, this work is an attempt to study architecture by actually participating, to experience lived space while also observing and writing about the abstract processes that produce it. In the words of Anne Buttimer and Henri Lefebvre, it is an attempt to be both an insider and an outsider, and to situate oneself in the seam, between
practice and theory, ordinary and special. In doing so this study linger on the edges of the architectural discipline that touches upon subjects such as philosophy, sociology, biology, anthropology, geology, urbanism, storytelling and filmmaking.

The design is an attempt to put use these lessons into practice and to design a transformation with simple interventions.

The location of my graduation project takes place within the complex neighborhoods of downtown Belgrade, the capital city of Serbia. It sits at the beginning of Trg Nikole Pasica street, and lies at the intersection of two monumental squares (Nikola Pasic Square and Terazije Square and Terrace). It is an urban passage called the Bezistan (means market hall in Persian) that has fountain covered by skylight and a square under the roof. Designed as a city third space, it was found with experience of everyday life, an idea of a new society that is build up by all actors and activities.

Yet, due to the social and economic degradation in the last decade of the twentieth century of the former Yugoslavia, the public space of the Bezistan Passage has slowly lost the elements of its original features, such as its pleasantness and spatial hierarchy. This has mainly caused by the transformation of surrounding curriculum and the rapid economic growth, leading to the re-planning and renovation process of the public spaces being overlooked and neglected by the government. Therefore, the main purpose of this thesis is to research and discover a new potential for the Bezistan Passage and methods to revive and regenerate existing public spaces.

Through the process of research, trial and error, the project has landed on a conventional library program as the means to revitalize the Bezistan Passage. The new proposal aims to use the interim period of the Bezistan Passage as an opportunity to introduce a new public library facilities. Further allowing its programs to flow into the passage to continue hosting the current activities and maintain the existing value on site. Furthermore, by treasuring and appreciating the existing architecture and history of the site, the project intends to adopt existing architectural qualities and invite people to wonder, explore in realizing details to learn about past and the previous life of Bezistan.

Skopje – became city of solidarity after 6.1 momentum magnitude earthquake in 1963. Unprecedented situation allowed for tabula rasa of planning a future city to emerge. Metabolist masterplan for city central area proposed by Japanese team leaded by Kenzo Tange, allowed for a brutalist architecture to present itself as part of new city. Controversial plan of rebuilding the city was announced in 2010.This project was highly criticised by the professional community for its “new classicism” style and many monuments scattered around the center area without any logic to its location, creating clash between architectures. The project investigates the potential of how implementation of in between space would allow for existing architectures to coexist without overwhelming it. By using principles of traditional Macedonian housing, metabolism architecture and contemporary building techniques project aims to create a threshold where appropriation and dialog would emerge.

As of the 31st of January 2020, the United Kingdom separated from the European Union. This event caused an uproar in the preceding years throughout the Union, forcing everyone to consider what the benefits are (or not) of taking part in the European project. For us the benefits are clear. We can easily cross borders to experience and learn from others with whom we share many of the same historical, geographical and cultural values, yet have differences we can appreciate. We simply believe that the sum of the parts is bigger than the whole. So, the uproar made us wonder how we, as future architects, could contribute to the European project in a positive manner. Although we know the scope is ambitious, we have aimed for a project which works through scale by touching local places, while also setting out new lines for a route at the European level that connects the different places. By working from the local to the European scale we aim to expose how the European Union can be a home for its vast range of inhabitants. To execute our research, we organized a field trip over a period of 5 weeks that covered the ground from the Netherlands to Romania.

As of the 31st of January 2020, the United Kingdom separated from the European Union. This event caused an uproar in the preceding years throughout the Union, forcing everyone to consider what the benefits are (or not) of taking part in the European project. For us the benefits are clear. We can easily cross borders to experience and learn from others with whom we share many of the same historical, geographical and cultural values, yet have differences we can appreciate. We simply believe that the sum of the parts is bigger than the whole. So, the uproar made us wonder how we, as future architects, could contribute to the European project in a positive manner. Although we know the scope is ambitious, we have aimed for a project which works through scale by touching local places, while also setting out new lines for a route at the European level that connects the different places. By working from the local to the European scale we aim to expose how the European Union can be a home for its vast range of inhabitants. To execute our research, we organized a field trip over a period of 5 weeks that covered the ground from the Netherlands to Romania.

In Skopje, the approach is to write and re-write the city. Within its architecture, a battle between oppositions is expressed. Neo-classical v Brutalism. Socialism v Nationalism. Macedonian v Albanian. The list goes on. Yet life continues amongst this and these binary oppositions do not represent the true life of Skopjans. The city’s image is showcasing an environment that does not reflect the life of its people, which is vibrant, multifaceted, everyday, normal. The built environment does not make it easy for social integration, with public spaces which are frequently bare and flat – dominating and monumental squares devoid of the layers needed to let life happen.
The contested and non-discript ‘island’ between the old bazaar (Albanian territory) and Macedonia Square (Macedonian territory) forms the location of my project. This no-mans land is a place without stigma and therefore provides a key opportunity to create spaces for integration between different communities. The island is made up of disparate built entities the paradigm for Skopje’s built fabric of opposing expressions. The site includes the old Hammam dating from 1500 during the Ottoman Empire, now the national gallery; the Macedonian Opera and Ballet from the Socialist era to the most recent development; Skopje 2014 museums positioned along the riverfront. These buildings work in isolation from one another and the public spaces are largely neglected. The site harbours great and un-realised potential to constitute as Skopje’s common ground – to improve integration and presence in public space, to provide the canvas for a vibrant, every-day life. The latent space possesses the existing ingredients, what is needed is the emulsion to make them function as a whole. ‘Island of Common Ground’ provides the glue between the disparate built entities, to celebrate Skopje’s complexity and encourage appropriation, integration and meaningfulness.
My graduation project provides a raised platform, spreading itself throughout the island of transition between the two core territories of Skopje. Beneath its canopy it will house spaces to activate the site and its existing buildings. These incorporate structures such as food market stalls, cafes, restaurants, bars and theatre spaces yet these are open to change and adapt according to community and stakeholder wishes. These form light-weight structures within the strong surrounding framework. The project sits between the blurred line of architecture and public space – it aims to provide the constant within which the flux of life can adapt and change.