INTERVIEW WES DEGREEF
‘Buildings that breathe: shaping the future through bioregional design.’
Photo: Farah Fervel
Bio-based materials are popular. Yet often, they are still sourced and fabricated far away from building sites, resulting in a disconnect between a material’s origin and its destination. Wes Degreef, one of BC architecture’s founders, explains how locally sourced materials steer design into a new direction, making buildings healthier for both people and the planet, and supporting local craftsmanship and communities along the way
USQUARE, BRUSSELS, BELGIUM, PHOTO: FARAH FERVEL
BC architects&studies&materials is a Brussels-based practice working at the intersection of architecture, materials research and community engagement. The multidisciplinary firm is led by four founders: Ken De Cooman, Laurens Bekemans, Nicolas Coeckelberghs, and Wes Degreef.
Wes suggests we meet at the USquare campus in Brussels – a former gendarmerie barracks currently being transformed into an urban campus for the city’s two main universities. Tucked between two busy boulevards, the walled enclave is partially enclosed by a stately building that stretches the length of an entire block. BC architects designed this building’s refurbishment as part of the campus’s first phase, completed in 2024.
Both the renovation and extension feel delicately handled, with minimal interventions and a prominent use of innovative, natural materials. To improve classroom acoustics, BC developed a bio-based insulating material made of earth, cork and hemp, sprayed directly onto the walls; the old marble window sills from the existing building have been cast into some of the terrazzo floors; and walls have been made from hempcrete, a biocomposite of hemp and lime. As you step into the atrium, the materials introduce themselves first by scent rather than sight – although Wes assures me that the distinct barn-like aroma is “much less pungent than before.”
As the first completed project on site, the building feels very much alive. Students come and go from classrooms, groups gather for lunch at a café, and people with headphones work in small booths along the atrium. Outside, amidst the muddy landscape of ongoing construction, pedestrians weave between yet-to-be-renovated buildings that house temporary offices and ateliers.
When Wes joins me in one of the booths he notices a campus leaflet on the table. He picks it up, scans the illustrated site map and is pleased to see that a former on-site training facility is still indicated–a straightforward, concrete-and-brick structure with orderly placed windows on each side. “This building is set for demolition,” he pauses. “It’s a real shame; the size and façade rhythm make it an ideal location for student housing. But when the municipality first wrote the masterplan for this campus, no one considered keeping buildings like these. You could say the masterplan was designed too early – it clashes with today’s mindset on repurposing existing structures.”
His remark exemplifies BC’s approach. For the past ten years, BC’s team of designers, material innovators, and educators have made their name by smartly questioning design briefs and making maximum use of the existing context. Using bio-, geo-, and urban-sourced materials, combined with low-carbon building techniques, the building they designed for USquare is a testament to their philosophy.
USQUARE, BRUSSELS, BELGIUM, PHOTO: FARAH FERVEL
USQUARE, BRUSSELS, BELGIUM, PHOTO: FARAH FERVEL
Could you tell us a bit more about this project and how you approached the assignment? When we took part in the competition, the masterplan required that this building would be demolished to make way for a large staircase leading into the campus. But we immediately said: that’s an absurd idea! One of the great things about the location is that this main building functions as a massive sound barrier for the entire enclave, blocking traffic noise from the boulevards. We proposed an alternative: keep the main building and renovate it, and instead create smaller ‘breaks’ in the walls on either side of the plot by adding entrance buildings and stairs out of bricks from demolished buildings.
This decision meant we had to request a revision of the masterplan – a process that took years. For the interventions we always design from the essence of a place, by seeing what’s available on and around the building site, and based on the properties of a material. We constantly encounter limitations – but that’s exactly what makes this work interesting.
Your office seems to have been one of the early adapters of a more circular approach to architecture. What sparked this interest? The four of us met at university and became close friends. As architecture students in our early twenties, we initially didn’t question the materials we used in our designs. We often worked with white and grey models, and architecture didn’t seem to be about the materials themselves. At first, we struggled to figure out how and with what we wanted to build. Should everything be cast in concrete? Was PUR foam really safe? What about gypsum plaster? We felt disconnected from the source of these materials. Eventually, we began investigating the origins of our building materials, and what we discovered shocked us. For example, seeing photos of aluminium mining was truly eye-opening. It made us realise how important it was to understand exactly what materials we were working with.
As four recent graduates, your were led to a surprising first project – not in Belgium, but in Africa. How did that come about? When we just graduated, we received a question to build a school for deaf children in Muyinga, Burundi. Right after graduating, the idea of going to Africa sounded incredibly exciting. Once we got there, we found that none of the conventional materials we learned about in school were available. No concrete, no steel reinforcements – it provided us with a real challenge.
So how did you come up with a design solution? We started looking at what was actually available on location. As transport was relatively expensive in Burundi, we had to work with what was on-site and looked for skills that were available in and around the village. We quickly realised that everyone there knew how to build with earth but nobody wanted to build in earth, it was the material for poor people. So we wanted to innovate their way of building with mud. We brought some bags of earth back with us to Belgium to see what more we could do with it – to get them past immigration, we put the dirt in our jacket pockets. It turned out the soil had the right mix to make compressed earth blocks without using fire. So we went back, started digging the foundations and pressed the dug up earth into bricks.
We sourced everything locally: the trees we cut became beams, the roof tiles came from a nearby village. The earth we used for bricks cost nothing as it came from the site itself, just labour hours. We trained about thirty local draftsmen and provided them with an income for two years while also learning a new technique. After we left, some of them continued making the earth blocks and started selling them successfully. The project added a lot of value to the community. We thought: if this works here, why can’t it work back home? That question became the foundation of our philosophy.
We began investigating the origins of our building materials, and what we discovered shocked us
USQUARE, BRUSSELS, BELGIUM, PHOTO: FARAH FERVEL
USQUARE, BRUSSELS, BELGIUM, PHOTO: FARAH FERVEL
How did you bring this circular and community-driven approach to a Belgian context? Belgium is known for its bricks, so we decided to make one ourselves from local clay. We applied them to a project, the ‘Bioclass’, a small classroom in the town of Edegem. We made the bricks by hand with the help of volunteers, schools, and youth groups. It turned into a kind of festival where everyone made their own brick, and it worked incredibly well.
After developing the Bioclass, more and more people started asking if they could use these bricks. That’s when we realised there could be an economic model behind it. It led to the creation of BC materials, which focuses on earth-based building solutions, including compressed earth bricks, clay plasters, earth floors, and even natural paints that can be used indoors. We also initiated BC studies, that provides research, training and workshops around bioregional materials and techniques.
What started as an experiment has grown into a major initiative, proving that locally sourced materials can be both viable and scalable. It has led to surprising collaborations and results. For Atelier LUMA in Arles, a material research centre, BC materials developed materials using elements found in the surrounding Camargue region. Working together with Assemble, a London based architecture firm, and the specialists of LUMA itself, they developed compressed earth blocks and earth mortar using local waste from a quarry, and an acoustical earth plaster which contained the chopped stem and pith of sunflower waste. Closer to home, the office sourced wood from the Sonian Forest in Brussels, preventing the valuable wood from being sold abroad. Since the forest and trees already belonged to the municipality – the project’s client – it reduced the project’s material costs. What’s even more remarkable is that the wood is harvested traditionally, using horses to fell the trees and transport the logs.
You can spot a preference for traditional techniques and craftsmanship in your projects. Why is that so? We always try to combine local material and local craftsmanship. To us, those two simply belong together. Even though we create new materials, there are also great ideas that we would like to reintroduce to the building industry. During the Industrial Revolution, mass production began and concrete buildings developed at an incredible speed. Then people started thinking: okay, now we want well-insulated buildings. So more and more layers were added to buildings. Then people realised the interior climate of buildings had become unhealthy, so people plugged in a machine to generate ventilation. That brought us to a situation where we are completely enclosed in buildings, almost as if we were living on the moon, with everything being controlled by a computer. In doing so we have become disconnected from what we, as humans, actually need. We are now catering to the needs of our buildings, whilst instead, we should be moving in the opposite direction: towards designing buildings that cater to the needs of humans.
Earth-based materials have natural humidity regulation, and great acoustic and insulating properties. The materials are still ‘alive’, meaning they self-regulate and create a completely different indoor experience. Hempcrete for instance naturally expands and contracts with changes in temperature and humidity. When heating is turned off, moisture levels rise, causing the material to expand. As it dries, the hempcrete shrinks again, also shifting slightly with the seasons. Cracks in the wall are inevitable, but if you understand how the material behaves, you can control where it cracks rather than trying to prevent it.
Through workshops, we teach contractors and builders on how to apply our materials. We now know of people who we have trained, and started their own businesses, even taking on public tenders.
LIBRARY OF MUYINGA, BURUNDI, AFRICA PHOTOS: BCARCHITECTS&STUDIES
LIBRARY OF MUYINGA, BURUNDI, AFRICA PHOTOS: BCARCHITECTS&STUDIES
LIBRARY OF MUYINGA, BURUNDI, AFRICA PHOTOS: BCARCHITECTS&STUDIES
LIBRARY OF MUYINGA, BURUNDI, AFRICA PHOTOS: BCARCHITECTS&STUDIES
How do clients and governmental agencies support this transition towards a more circular building industry? Brussels is now quite progressive in terms of circular building. A few years ago, they started protecting many existing buildings. As an architect, this means you have to work with what is already there. Other cities and countries have similar ambitions, Paris, for instance. A while ago they changed all architecture competitions to include specific rules and regulations regarding the use of bio-based materials. In terms of this transition, BC architects has an advantage, having worked on circular building for years now. We are often invited to advise on policies and have supported the Brussels, Flanders and Wallon governments regarding their circular tender processes.
You also teach at the KU Leuven. What do you want to share with the next generation? About thirteen years ago, I started teaching at the university, focusing on material applications – the things I would have wanted to learn myself when I was studying. I try to spark the students’ interest to find out where their materials come from. At the moment, our students are researching ways to design a new office building for a quarry near Liège. They visited the site and studied the granulates and rocks, finding out what design opportunities they provide. They come up with the most genius ideas, often looking at projects with different eyes. Many students help us with our construction processes too. The new generation has a great consciousness about the way in which they want architecture to go, questioning the materials we use. I really enjoy teaching because of this, it’s magical.
If you understand how the material behaves, you can control it
LOT 8, LUMA, ARLES, FRANCE PHOTO: MORGANE RENOU
LOT 8, LUMA, ARLES, FRANCE PHOTO: MORGANE RENOU
LOT 8, LUMA, ARLES, FRANCE PHOTO: MORGANE RENOU
LOT 8, LUMA, ARLES, FRANCE PHOTO: JOANA LUZ
LOT 8, LUMA, ARLES, FRANCE PHOTO: ADRIAN DEWEERDT
LOT 8, LUMA, ARLES, FRANCE PHOTO: MORGANE RENOU