
In architecture, sustainability is typically a term relegated to the final part of presentations – a mandatory slide with diagrams of something vaguely ecological, tacked on at the end once everything has already been designed, with a hope, or indifference, as to whether pumps, heat pumps and solar panels will one day be enough to meet all the challenges.
For us, however, sustainability is not a catalogue of mandatory commitments to be fulfilled, nor a checklist of technologies to be deployed, nor a reluctant concession to some overly abstract and distant good. It is a concrete way of thinking about how things work together – how a building relates to the street, how a neighbourhood relates to the city, how a person relates to the space around them. Forward-looking sustainability addresses the most practical matters right now.
The best design, architecture and planning often emerge when we understand what already works. A city is not a machine that can be designed from scratch according to a manual. It is a living dialogue in which every decision influences thousands of others. Sustainable planning therefore begins with observation – how people actually live, where they walk, where they meet, what they need, where they shop, where they work, or where they want to sit down.
Jane Jacobs and Jan Gehl showed us decades ago that the most vibrant and interesting parts of cities arise spontaneously when the right conditions are in place: many buildings of different functions and ages close together, along streets where it is practical and pleasant to walk. With public transport providing the best possible accessibility, and without wasting space and resources. Sustainability means creating such a framework: designing structures that allow life to unfold naturally, rather than forcing it into predetermined forms that may not withstand the test of reality. It means building places that work not only today but can adapt to changing needs and challenges.
In the Right Place
When we design a new railway station, we do not simply ask what the building will look like. We ask how it will connect to the surrounding neighbourhoods, how it will encourage street life, how it will link parts of the city that were previously separated. A railway station is not merely a place where we board a train. It is a gateway to the city, a meeting point and shopping destination, a catalyst for the development of entire districts.
Similarly, when we design a new quarter, we do not start with the details of façades or building heights. We start with how the quarter will function – where the streets and public spaces will be, where the schools should go so that children do not have far to walk, where the shops should be so that daily life is convenient, where the workplaces should be so that people do not have to commute unnecessarily. Sustainability means minimising unnecessary journeys, creating proximity within a complex and shared urban space, rather than as isolated fragments dictated by segregated functional zones and unpleasant traffic corridors.
This thinking applies equally to the smallest projects. When we redesign a public space, we observe how people use it. Where they cut corners, a footpath may be needed. Where they gather, a bench may be missing. Where it is busy, traffic may need calming. Sustainability does not have a predetermined, finite outcome – it is a process of continuous regeneration and renewal through incremental improvements that gradually accumulate into a coherent whole, much like a good recipe, a song, or a film.
Responsiveness to the Surroundings
Every building changes its surroundings. It can burden them, or enrich them. Sustainable design means taking responsibility for that impact. A new building can breathe life into a dead street, or conversely create a barrier. It can improve the microclimate through its shade and greenery, or contribute to urban overheating.
Architecture thus has a political dimension too – every design is a statement about what communal life should look like. Sustainable architecture is democratic architecture. It does not turn inward but opens itself to the public realm. It does not create gated enclaves but strengthens the urban fabric, regardless of the type of brief.
Our architecture responds to local conditions – to climate, traditions, the integrity of craftsmanship and available materials. Sustainability does not mean replicating the same solution everywhere. It means finding the answer that is right precisely here, in this particular situation, always in response to the simplest of questions: how can we make something better than it is today?
Long-term Thinking
A truly sustainable building is not merely one that meets tabulated standards, but one that will remain useful in fifty years, or even two hundred and fifty. This requires a design approach where change is not a threat against which the design must be preserved, but rather an open system for future adaptation. A building must be able to absorb new functions, new technologies and new ways of living. Flexibility is not a luxury – it is a necessity.
Our approach to planning does not only consider how a place will look upon completion, but how it will continue to evolve. New things need time to first prove their practicality and then allow people to grow fond of a place. Good planning is therefore the first layer of conditions for the kind of growth that is not only favourable as an upward arrow on a graph, but above all as a practical, safe and pleasant environment in which we move about every day.

The Beauty of the Everyday
Sustainability is not about deprivation – it is about quality of life. The best sustainable architecture is the kind that people love and genuinely want to keep, or adapt to new needs. Beauty need not be sacrificed in favour of functionality; beauty is itself a function, one that thrives on how well a design serves all stakeholders: investors, residents, visitors, the local community, the environment, or passers-by.
Sustainable design is therefore always, first and foremost, about people. That is why we need to create environments where life is good, where it is a joy to be, where relationships are formed. It is not merely a technical solution to a problem, but a cultural project – one of weaving connections between technical, economic and spatial elements that, with sufficient commitment, can together create valuable wholes greater than the mere sum of their parts.
In every project we undertake – whether a new building, a street, a park, the conversion of a railway station, a modification to a small village, or an interior – we seek this balance between the needs of today and the possibilities of tomorrow, between individual wishes and the common good, between local character and global challenges, all designed from our studio in Podolí, always with the utmost dedication, responsibility and a sense of enjoyment.

In architecture, sustainability is typically a term relegated to the final part of presentations – a mandatory slide with diagrams of something vaguely ecological, tacked on at the end once everything has already been designed, with a hope, or indifference, as to whether pumps, heat pumps and solar panels will one day be enough to meet all the challenges.
For us, however, sustainability is not a catalogue of mandatory commitments to be fulfilled, nor a checklist of technologies to be deployed, nor a reluctant concession to some overly abstract and distant good. It is a concrete way of thinking about how things work together – how a building relates to the street, how a neighbourhood relates to the city, how a person relates to the space around them. Forward-looking sustainability addresses the most practical matters right now.
The best design, architecture and planning often emerge when we understand what already works. A city is not a machine that can be designed from scratch according to a manual. It is a living dialogue in which every decision influences thousands of others. Sustainable planning therefore begins with observation – how people actually live, where they walk, where they meet, what they need, where they shop, where they work, or where they want to sit down.
Jane Jacobs and Jan Gehl showed us decades ago that the most vibrant and interesting parts of cities arise spontaneously when the right conditions are in place: many buildings of different functions and ages close together, along streets where it is practical and pleasant to walk. With public transport providing the best possible accessibility, and without wasting space and resources. Sustainability means creating such a framework: designing structures that allow life to unfold naturally, rather than forcing it into predetermined forms that may not withstand the test of reality. It means building places that work not only today but can adapt to changing needs and challenges.
In the Right Place
When we design a new railway station, we do not simply ask what the building will look like. We ask how it will connect to the surrounding neighbourhoods, how it will encourage street life, how it will link parts of the city that were previously separated. A railway station is not merely a place where we board a train. It is a gateway to the city, a meeting point and shopping destination, a catalyst for the development of entire districts.
Similarly, when we design a new quarter, we do not start with the details of façades or building heights. We start with how the quarter will function – where the streets and public spaces will be, where the schools should go so that children do not have far to walk, where the shops should be so that daily life is convenient, where the workplaces should be so that people do not have to commute unnecessarily. Sustainability means minimising unnecessary journeys, creating proximity within a complex and shared urban space, rather than as isolated fragments dictated by segregated functional zones and unpleasant traffic corridors.
This thinking applies equally to the smallest projects. When we redesign a public space, we observe how people use it. Where they cut corners, a footpath may be needed. Where they gather, a bench may be missing. Where it is busy, traffic may need calming. Sustainability does not have a predetermined, finite outcome – it is a process of continuous regeneration and renewal through incremental improvements that gradually accumulate into a coherent whole, much like a good recipe, a song, or a film.
Responsiveness to the Surroundings
Every building changes its surroundings. It can burden them, or enrich them. Sustainable design means taking responsibility for that impact. A new building can breathe life into a dead street, or conversely create a barrier. It can improve the microclimate through its shade and greenery, or contribute to urban overheating.
Architecture thus has a political dimension too – every design is a statement about what communal life should look like. Sustainable architecture is democratic architecture. It does not turn inward but opens itself to the public realm. It does not create gated enclaves but strengthens the urban fabric, regardless of the type of brief.
Our architecture responds to local conditions – to climate, traditions, the integrity of craftsmanship and available materials. Sustainability does not mean replicating the same solution everywhere. It means finding the answer that is right precisely here, in this particular situation, always in response to the simplest of questions: how can we make something better than it is today?
Long-term Thinking
A truly sustainable building is not merely one that meets tabulated standards, but one that will remain useful in fifty years, or even two hundred and fifty. This requires a design approach where change is not a threat against which the design must be preserved, but rather an open system for future adaptation. A building must be able to absorb new functions, new technologies and new ways of living. Flexibility is not a luxury – it is a necessity.
Our approach to planning does not only consider how a place will look upon completion, but how it will continue to evolve. New things need time to first prove their practicality and then allow people to grow fond of a place. Good planning is therefore the first layer of conditions for the kind of growth that is not only favourable as an upward arrow on a graph, but above all as a practical, safe and pleasant environment in which we move about every day.

The Beauty of the Everyday
Sustainability is not about deprivation – it is about quality of life. The best sustainable architecture is the kind that people love and genuinely want to keep, or adapt to new needs. Beauty need not be sacrificed in favour of functionality; beauty is itself a function, one that thrives on how well a design serves all stakeholders: investors, residents, visitors, the local community, the environment, or passers-by.
Sustainable design is therefore always, first and foremost, about people. That is why we need to create environments where life is good, where it is a joy to be, where relationships are formed. It is not merely a technical solution to a problem, but a cultural project – one of weaving connections between technical, economic and spatial elements that, with sufficient commitment, can together create valuable wholes greater than the mere sum of their parts.
In every project we undertake – whether a new building, a street, a park, the conversion of a railway station, a modification to a small village, or an interior – we seek this balance between the needs of today and the possibilities of tomorrow, between individual wishes and the common good, between local character and global challenges, all designed from our studio in Podolí, always with the utmost dedication, responsibility and a sense of enjoyment.