‘The kitchen is an alchemic space: fire and water, earth and air; the place where elements resonate. Being in the kitchen or garden, by thinking and learning, we transform ourselves.’

Asako Iwama and Lauren Maurer in ‘Studio Olafur Eliasson, The Kitchen’.

‘A bowl of polenta that warms our sense and lingers in your memory becomes as straightforward as a mound of corn and as complex as the system that makes it run. It speaks to something beyond the crop, the cook, or the farmer – to the entirety of the landscape, and how it fits together.’

Dan Barber, ‘The Third Plate’.

Photos: Alice Varkulja

Adapt now to prepare for the future

Food is the most photographed item on Instagram. It is also through the act of eating that bonding and sharing occur as attested by artist Olafur Eliasson, who relies on the creative boost given to his team by the lunch that is served every day at the studio’s communal table.

Could architects embrace other fields that might help us reshape our design purposes, considering potential examples to illustrate how we might not just try to preserve resources, but also think about architecture in a truly integrated way with the environment? In particular, could we learn from food, agricultural production and chefs?

‘We decide what we want, and then we demand that the land produce it,’ Barber writes in his book ‘The Third Plate’. ‘When in fact it should really work the other way around.’ Most farmers respond to demand, but the dehesa, in southwest Spain, is indeed an example of sustainable agriculture, where farmers work within the framework of ecology to boost production of their own specialty crops without diminishing the land itself. Barber suggests that we should consider the dehesa - not so much as a place, but as concept. Farmers should focus on a variety of crops that could provide the most benefit to the soil and the environment itself, and chefs should arrange their menus accordingly. As Barber says, the system we are accustomed to, where the consumer decides what’s for dinner, is ‘not truly sustainable for any ecology or culture.’ Can we say the same about today’s architecture?

Architects could learn from and engage with chefs and the broader food culture in a more meaningful way. We can explore the work of leading chefs for lessons and ideas that could improve our work – and perhaps ways in which architecture can play its part in promoting a more sustainable culture around food. These chefs are involved in the entire food chain, using the highest quality products with a deep understanding of its origins, in the best way possible with the least amount of environmental impact. The result is a better meal – and a process that is more socially connected.

Cities are booming all around the world, and as cities grow, our connection to the land will become increasingly complex. We need to find ways to adapt to this new reality and reflect upon the future of our profession and what our role should be. We need to learn from context, similar to the farmers in the dehesa, to promote a healthier, and more sustainable architecture that preserves the ties that people have to the land.

Adapting to places

Food really connects us to each other and to a place. Chefs are activists, and are talking about ‘contextual ecologies’ that will improve how the land is used and the way that people eat. Modern chefs are designers, and they are increasingly sourcing their materials locally to promote sustainability and health. They are using food to educate people about the environment.

They are exploring the limits of their field, using science and technology as a guide, responding to and promoting public values. We too, have the power to connect people, to promote sustainability and culture using modern technology and locally sourced materials. The leading chefs understand that they need to come out of the kitchen to be in contact with farmers. They know they had to truly grasp how food grows, what type of soil is needed, how the cultivation and the harvest could take place in a more sustainable way, with more natural practices that avoid pests and increase production. They also acknowledge the importance of ensuring that the whole chain of people, from the farmer to the client, deeply understands the use and preservation of ‘the land’, in its broader meaning.

Architects need to learn from builders, craftsmen, from the community and the client they are building for, from the regulators and policymakers, planners and stakeholders, as we decide how things are designed and built. We have to participate in the process as a whole, understanding where materials come from, how materials are produced as well as the social, economical and political implications of that process, both for the community and the environment. We need to better connect forestry to our design practice, truly linking the forestry industry to the building industry. We need to know what community leaders and members think, understand local policies, and promote dialog among all parties. This investigation allows us to be at the basis of the design process, preparing future professionals to think and build in a more holistic way.

We all need to eat; we all need shelter. Being able to put these basic needs in better context would allow us (and free us) to produce and consume food and design and build architecture in accordance with the environment and what it presents us. We need better tools to adapt to a changing environment. We have to embed some basic values and principles into our practice, because that knowledge will promote ways of sensing the context in its depth, allowing for better responses to arise in a changing world.