Trans-scale is an interesting word. It can mean the passage from one scale to another, a shift in magnitudes. It can also mean the negation of the scale itself, the refusal to accept its physical limits. It is also the term used by Pedro Varella to describe the practice of gru.a (a group of architects), a Rio de Janeiro-based office of which he is a partner along with Caio Calafate. Supported by a tripod of design, education and research, gru.a has carried out a relevant set of works that have earned it recognition within and outside Brazil in just over ten years of work.
Nominated for the Mies Crown Hall Americas Prize (MCHAP) 2022 and the DÉBUT of the Lisbon Triennial 2019, gru.a also has two first-place trophies in the Tomie Ohtake AkzoNobel Architecture Prize (2015 and 2019), as well as awards in design competitions. More recently, in 2022, it was included in ArchDaily's list of best New Practices for a work based on resource economy that challenges the conventional limits of architecture and claims the possibility of being read as art.
We spoke with the partners about the office's origin, their work, and the importance of junctions and details in their work.
Romulo Baratto (ArchDaily): How did you meet and why did you create gru.a?
Pedro Varella: The story of our meeting dates back to our childhood. Since we were five years old, we have studied together in school. We were friends throughout childhood and adolescence and ended up studying architecture. I attended to UFRJ and Caio went to PUC. At the end of college, we started working together on student contests and other small projects that came up. In 2012, along with two other architects - Sergio Garcia-Gasco and Fabiana Araújo - we won a large contest for the Rui Barbosa Foundation's collection building in Rio de Janeiro. From that moment on, we decided to open gru.a.
Caio Calafate: Pedro and Sergio met while working on the Humanidade2012 Pavilion, on Carla Juaçaba's team. I collaborated with other offices, such as Fábrica Arquitetura. Fabiana Araújo, who now has an office called Ateliê de Arquitetura, collaborated on this project for the collection building and later on on other projects. Since Sergio returned to Europe in 2016, both of us have continued as co-directors of gru.a. We have two other partners in the office, Ingrid Colares and André Cavendish, as well as interns and collaborators.
RB: Your work spans many scales, ranging from ephemeral installations to large-scale competitions. First, I would like to hear about your experience with competitions, like the one Pedro mentioned.
CC: The contest for the annex of the Rui Barbosa House was the most important in our history. Not only because we won it, but also because it was an initial project for the office at a time when we decided to officially create gru.a. In addition to that, we have participated in many other contests with various scales that we are very proud of. The MIS Pro contest, here in Lapa in Rio de Janeiro, where we came in second place. We also came in second place in the contest for the lakeshore of Paranoá Lake in Brasília - perhaps the largest scale we have ever worked on. We did a beautiful job not only in architectural design and urban space, but also in political design. Afterwards, we participated in the contest for Sesc Limeira, in collaboration with Estúdio Chão and Matéria Base, where we received an honorable mention.
PV: Although contests are an excellent opportunity for those starting out and also a way to mobilize public debate, they are, on the other hand, a very high financial risk for the office. Either you can finance a team to develop the contest, or you are young enough to produce all the drawings yourself. Either you have your workforce to do it or you have the financial power to hire professionals. At this moment, we are in limbo. We do not have sufficient availability to do it alone, nor enough resources to invest in a team.
RB: Jumping to the other side, it seems that your work stands out more on a smaller scale. I am not only talking about the more well-known installations, but overall, it seems that you enjoy working on this scale - and it shows in the projects, especially in the details. We understand that this is not only architecture, but we also know that it is the work of architects because of the attention to detail, fittings, joints, and materials... Could you talk a bit more about this?
PV: Your comment is inspiring. I don't think there is a preference for small-scale, but rather a transcalar effort in our work. That is to say, we consider that a handrail design can raise themes as intriguing as a large building or an urban project. We learned this very early on, with our first works. An example is the intervention on the ground floor of the Caledônia Building in Guinle Park, by Lucio Costa. At first, it was a small job with no significant reflection opportunities, but we managed to turn that into the most meaningful thing in our lives at that moment.
The project was supposed to be very simple - an interior renovation of a gatehouse - but we turned this mundane commission into a theme of research and reflection that we still carry today.
In just over ten years, we have completed more small-scale projects. I hope that in ten years, we can revisit this topic using examples of medium and large-scale projects built with the same care and attention to detail and junctions.
RB: I hope we talk before then!
PV: Well, it should not be that much. We know that architecture demands time and we've witnessed a violent political, financial and social crisis in our country. Large-scale projects became scarce during this period. As an alternative to accomplishing something, these border projects, which combine architecture and art, presented themselves as an option for us. A platform from which we could think about themes that inspire us. Almost an alternative to the frustration of not being able to undertake large-scale public projects. A noble alternative, of course.
Therefore, a small scale is not preferred. On the contrary, there is a deep effort and desire to work transcalarly, seeking to understand even in a large work the importance of junctions between parts, for example.
I'll digress to talk about the idea of a junction. Our work concerns itself with designing and building based on a certain economy of resources. It's an ideological and political position on life and architecture. This means something other than making precariously or less importantly; it means trying to achieve the best results with the least amount of material, effort, and energy possible.
This idea applied to short-term projects, such as Cota 10 or The Beach and the Time, suggests an assembly tactic. This calls for techniques and construction systems that can be quickly assembled and disassembled. These systems emphasize junctions because it's these junctions that allow them to be assembled and disassembled. Hence our effort to think, design, and extract broad issues from small junctions and materials.
CC: There is no doubt that scale is an issue. There is a group of works in the office, in which Pedro works autonomously, that touches the border between art and architecture. I collaborate on some of them, and the office also elaborates details and technical aspects, but in general they are headed by Pedro. However, there is another set of short-term works that are not exactly at the border of art and architecture. For example, exhibit design projects. The work for Sesc 24 de Maio for the exhibition "Raio que o Parta: ficções do moderno no Brasil" is noteworthy. It was done in collaboration with architect Juliana Godoy and had very competent curatorial work. This is a type of work we have done often. We are now starting one at the Museum of Art in Rio (MAR). We did one last year at Galpão Bela Maré, the Jarbas Lopes exhibition at MAR. So, we have maintained a sequence of this type of short-term work.
Still dealing with ephemeral architecture, but with a slightly different theme, we are collaborating for the third time with a music festival, which has a large audience here in Rio. It is an architectural project in which we elaborate on the event layout, stages, and all technical and functional areas. However, we also enter the scenography scale.
We do not have a preference for short, medium, or long-term work. Each project has its own qualities and interests. We like works that are executed and assembled quickly because we see the process happening. On the other hand, slower works, such as an intervention project in heritage in Rio de Janeiro that lasted two years, offer valuable time to think about the design and involve a series of other complementary projects. We do not prefer one or the other. However, we seek to find issues in each demand - when we understand that it can generate productive questions for our architectural thinking.
RB: Both of you are architects, but have different backgrounds and still work in academia. How do these interests and deviations dialogue with gru.a's architectural practice?
CC: The office is composed of three components: teaching, research, and projects. Both of us graduated as architects, pursued a Master's degree, and began teaching - a practice we continue to this day. Just like teaching, research also permeates our practice: my doctoral thesis, which explores the idea of thinking of the ground as an atlas, is heavily linked to this boundary between architecture, design, anthropology, and philosophy. We find this tripod particularly interesting: research enters the office, and office practices reverberate in teaching and research, amalgamating how architects work.
PV: Each of us has a personal formation, and this is particular, but it is interesting how each of us brings this to the discussion. I feel almost like a collaborator on Caio's thesis - we discuss, and sometimes I suggest bibliographies... It's remarkable how these personal experiences affect the collective work method.
In parallel with my architecture degree, I attended Parque Lage's visual arts school. There were times I struggled with an identity crisis. However, now I see myself as an architect and present myself as an architect, although I also work in the art world. I do this to claim that architecture can be read as a work of art; not the other way around, where I have to move into art. I prefer to stay rooted in architecture and claim art tools as possibilities within architectural production.
This article is part of ArchDaily Topics: New Practices. Monthly, we explore a specific theme through articles, interviews, news and projects. Learn more about ArchDaily topics. As always, ArchDaily is open to contributions from our readers; if you want to submit an article or project, please contact us.
