Maalstroom in conversation with Oana Bogdan (&bogdan)

As part of open call °°1, we reflect on the talk ‘Inclusive City’ that took place in September 2024. We traveled to Brussels, where Oana Bogdan (&bogdan) and An Vandermeulen (Globe Aroma) shared their experiences regarding thresholds and hospitable in-between spaces in the metropolis. With a focus on inclusion, hospitality, and diversity, that evening we explored a plan for a center for drug users and an artistic workplace for marginalized artists. Not because spaces for drug users and artists with migration backgrounds are directly comparable, but because both projects carry an ambition to create safe environments that offer perspective to people in precarious situations—and from there, influence the hospitality of the city as a whole.

Before the lecture, we spoke with Oana Bogdan about the obstacles she encounters in striving for a more inclusive city. The building we were hosted in was not coincidentally designed by &bogdan. With a wide view over Anderlecht, we were on the top floor of COOP, a renovated mill building along the Brussels canal.

Maalstroom: Oana, on the &bogdan website, it says that architecture can be a driver of positive social change, especially in vulnerable neighborhoods like here in Anderlecht. What, in your view, are the key steps to designing inclusive and safe places, especially in urban areas with high diversity and vulnerability?

Oana Bogdan: As architects, we often don’t have control over the most important conditions. Architects don’t define the program. We usually enter the process later. There is little public land available, and much depends on the project brief. What we can do is bring public space into buildings. So that buildings aren’t objects but parts of the city. We make them porous, accessible to everyone. At the COOP building, for example, in the final week before the deadline, we decided to move the cafeteria to the roof, to democratize it. Thanks to two large elevators, everyone can reach the roof and be there together. We also often design our buildings with multiple entrances, so they don’t isolate but connect. Our projects are often passages—walk-throughs—with multiple access points if possible. We design spaces that remain open to interpretation, spaces that are not prescriptive—where people feel free to use them their own way. Material choice is also important; you have to pick materials that people don’t have to be too careful with—otherwise, they won’t feel comfortable. But true inclusivity starts with politics and a good competition brief. That’s where the key lies. It starts elsewhere—not with the architects. We always arrive a bit too late to make it right.

“What we can do is bring public space into buildings. So that buildings aren’t objects but parts of the city.”

Maalstroom: Do you have an example of a project where bringing public space into a building didn’t go as planned? And what did you learn from it?

Oana Bogdan: One example is The Cosmopolitan, an office building we converted into housing. The intention was to make it very porous, with two passages on each side and access to the roof. We envisioned a public brasserie or café there—completely separate from private circulation via separate elevators. But during construction, it turned out there were flaws in the concrete structure, making it unsafe and much more expensive. That cost a lot of money. So the rooftop idea was scrapped. Instead, two “beautiful, beautiful” penthouses were added. At a political level, we were also asked to close off the ground-floor passages. This was partly due to local nuisances—there’s a lot of street prostitution in the area. That’s part of the city, but apparently it causes tension and property damage. So we closed them temporarily, but we designed the fences so they can be removed later without leaving a trace.

In the end, it became a project that residents are happy with, but the public aspect largely disappeared. That’s a real missed opportunity, but it’s no one’s fault. It also shows how hard it is to create sustainable, inclusive urban space within political reality. Sustainability requires long-term thinking, but how do you do that when you have to win votes every four years?

Maalstroom: In Brussels, there are many ‘undesigned’ places where people spontaneously gather—older men on the steps of the Saint Jean Baptist church in Molenbeek, or youths on the Intermarché parking lot in Schaerbeek, even though a park is nearby. They seem to seek out places with less social control. We wonder: do we sometimes overdesign? Should we leave more space and let people decide how to use it?

Oana Bogdan: Yes, I think we often make two mistakes. First: we try too hard to dictate how people should move and what they should do. A good example is Park Spoor Noord. The designers just placed volumes there—no labels like ‘bench’ or ‘table.’ They didn’t indicate: “you may sit here,” “you may picnic there.” No, there are just these volumes, and people do what they want: sit, lie down, eat… and it works.

Second: we often assume everyone has the same needs. I know an example in Brussels—I forget the square’s name—that was designed with the best intentions. Very open, no corners, allowing clear sightlines and accessibility for all. But then they learned that young women from certain cultural backgrounds felt uncomfortable there because they were too visible. They needed more secluded spaces with privacy, but still in public space—just to chat, for example. That square had to be redesigned. That shows how crucial the design brief is. Who are we designing for? What is the purpose of public space?

“We try too hard to dictate how people should move and what they should do.”

Maalstroom: Tonight’s event is about spaces that can give vulnerable groups a sense of inclusion. These groups need visibility and a place to meet, but also invisibility or shelter. How do you design such a space? A space that can be found by those who need it, but is also invisible or protective in the urban landscape?

Oana Bogdan: Maybe such a space doesn’t have to be entirely separate. It could be like “living apart together”—present in public space, but with enough subtlety. For example, on a square: with smart design and landscaping, you could create spots where people feel less watched. It’s also about offering enough diversity in public space. If you only have sports fields, you’ll often see young men dominate those areas. But if you design a park with zones for intensive sport and for quiet gathering, gentle movement, or just ‘being,’ you’ll attract a broader group. You then get ‘outdoor rooms’ with different functions. And it’s important that those rooms don’t all have glass walls—literally or figuratively—so people don’t constantly feel watched. Because if you feel watched, you can’t truly act freely.

Maalstroom: We originally wanted to organize this lecture at the Amal Amjahid Sports Hall, but ran into administrative obstacles. You’re experiencing something similar with the drug user center project (in collaboration with BC architects), which is now also ‘on hold.’ We can imagine politics often interferes in architecture and urbanism in general. Have there been moments in your career where you frequently clashed with political realities? Do you learn from them, do they frustrate you, or do you see opportunities for collaboration or mutual understanding?

Oana Bogdan: Architecture is political—everything we do has a political dimension. Regarding the two projects you mention—the Amal Amjahid Sports Center and the drug user center—the issues are very different. At the sports center in Molenbeek, where this lecture was initially planned, the main problems are structural maintenance and lack of funds. Building something is one thing, but maintaining it is another. Molenbeek currently faces major financial and staffing issues, making communication and organization nearly impossible. The building isn’t even officially open yet.*

With the drug user center—it’s a political matter. We were already far into the tendering process, nearly ready, when suddenly it was realized: this center is 4,000 m², many people will work there, and that costs a lot in wages. And then the plug was pulled. After years of design work, after a carefully organized architecture competition… And that’s because of an ideological conflict. How do you view addiction? You can say: “You’re responsible, you’re a failure, we’ll ignore you, good luck.” That’s one perspective. For political parties who think like that, such a center is wasted money.

But there are also people—and I include myself—who say: addiction is not a choice. These people need help. Studies also show that such a center saves money in the long run. Letting people die in the streets costs society far more: hospitalizations, emergency services, and so on. So such a center is not only humane, but also rational.

Maalstroom: Are there things that still bring you joy when you’re repeatedly thwarted by external factors, or things that give you energy during such a process?

Oana Bogdan: You do have some bad experiences, but after a while, you see that things can be different. We’ve also had projects with very good clients, and with a bit of luck, there are politicians who do understand what it’s about. At the integrated drug user center, for example, we learned so much about addiction, about vulnerable people. We collaborated, won the architecture competition together with two psychiatrists—personally, I’ve become richer as a person. Not financially, but as a human being. But then again—what is money?