Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1532667
16 | Architecture & Design The potential for positive change is there — we just need to act with more foresight and care. Your award-winning café near Westfield and your work for The Royal Parks and Serpentine Coffee House are striking examples of your nature-driven designs. Can you tell us more about these projects? All three projects share a common thread: they are expressions of nature-driven design, where organic form, storytelling, technology, and craft merge to create spaces that connect people with their surroundings. Each responds to its context—whether competing for attention in a commercial landscape or offering moments of wonder and embrace within nature. At Westfield, the design had to do more than inspire—it had to compete. Amidst the chaos of a retail jungle, we used biomimicry to create beauty that thrives through attraction. The café's form—a rising cobra, commanding attention, then softening into an orchid-like smile—blends boldness with invitation. Inspired by Colicci's leaf motif from the Pheasantry Welcome Centre, we imagined that same leaf, blown from the park and landing in the city, becoming a copper-toned canopy, rich with autumnal patina. Computer-Aided Design (CAD) shaped its geometry, but craft brought the soul: the hand-hammered copper shingles, each carrying the artisan's mark—where digital precision meets human imperfection. Westfield stands out because it merges commercial function with nature's competitive beauty—attracting, competing, and thriving—like a flower in a crowded meadow. The Serpentine Coffee House stands at Hyde Park's entrance as a welcoming smile, inviting visitors into nature's heart. It, too, seeks to stop people in their tracks, but its competition is more poetic than commercial. Inspired by manta rays and whale sharks, it evokes a meeting with a majestic creature— awe, then warmth. The stingray-like canopy, shaped through parametric design and CNC fabrication, finds its soul in the hand-patinated brass, textured with snakeskin dimples— where human touch brings life to digital precision. Serpentine stands out because it is more than a structure—it's a moment of encounter with nature's grace—soft, fluid, unforgettable. The Royal Parks kiosks offer a hugging embrace, like sheltering beneath an oak tree—calm and timeless. Their flowing timber ribbons—sculpted through digital modeling— harmoniously created by the ancient craft of steam-bending, where heat, pressure, and intuition shape every curve. Royal Parks stands out as organic and intentional. Together, these projects show that nature-driven design isn't just about form— it's about purpose, emotion, and connection. They don't just blend into their surroundings—they respond, attract, and engage. Among all your projects, which one holds a particularly special place in your heart and why? It's so hard to choose. The Serpentine Coffee House, Hyde Park, was the first time we really got to express our biomorphic design approach at an architectural scale, so that one is definitely up there. But I'd say the Malta Bus Reborn holds the deepest significance. It's been a 14-year journey, entirely self-initiated, and it represents a much bigger vision — one that ties together heritage, environmental impact, and societal change. It meant so much to be New European Bauhaus Award finalists, an opportunity that brought us closer to the EU's ongoing future-driven initiatives where we became ambassadors for their vision of architecture and design driven by beauty, sustainability and for the collective. Your studio has collaborated with high-profile clients like The Science Museum and The Royal Botanical Gardens. What are some of the most valuable lessons you've learned from these collaborations? Working with institutions like Kew Gardens and the Science Museum has taught me the power of interdisciplinary collaboration. At Kew, for example, the Family Kitchen was a true marriage of science, nature, and design. We worked closely with botanists, mycologists, educators, artists, manufacturers, and builders to create a space that is not only whimsical and beautiful but also deeply educational and connected to its surroundings. Each perspective added richness to the design—from the interactive installations that teach children about ecosystems to the natural materials that seamlessly connect the interiors with Kew's iconic gardens. This project was a celebration of Kew's mission to share the wonders of nature and science with visitors. Together with artist Tom Hare, we brought nature to life through giant, handwoven fungi sculptures that tell the story of mycelial networks, while vibrant zones representing the seasons showcase the cycles of life and growth. The interactive pizza-topping station, complete with red periscopes to peek into the oven, playfully teaches children about food origins, diversity and preparation. Through projects like these, we've seen how institutions can play a crucial role in shaping public awareness of environmental responsibility. Designing spaces where organisations actively champion climate-conscious thinking— whether by promoting biodiversity, rewilding, or sustainable food systems—is essential. But beyond that, we believe architecture must act as a precedent, demonstrating how the built environment can teach, protect, and evolve alongside nature. Every design decision carries weight in how people perceive and engage with their surroundings. If a space can reveal the intricacies of our ecosystems—how they function, how they're under threat, and how we can safeguard them—it becomes more than just a building; it becomes a tool for advocacy. In the Family Kitchen, the 'farm to fork' concept introduces visitors to the importance of food diversity and the risks of monocultures, while natural materials and immersive storytelling ground them in the landscape. At the Science Museum, 'Home Away from Hive' turns architecture into a call to action, urging people to consider the fragile balance of pollinator populations and their critical role in sustaining life on our planet. We saw the 'Home Away from Hive' project as an opportunity to highlight the importance of respecting the planet's ecosystem. Bees are heroic protagonists in our natural world, essential to the way humans and other living creatures are sustained. Their role is under threat, and institutions like the Science Museum provide a vital platform for communicating this urgency. Dedicating this installation to bringing bees and other pollinators back into our urban environment felt like a significant and urgent reason to participate in this competition. 'Home Away from Hive' therefore contributes to a wider discussion on urban rewilding—allowing nature and wildlife to reclaim a rightful place within our built environment. The most valuable lesson from these collaborations is that great design is a collective effort, but more than that, it has a responsibility to inform and inspire change. Architecture must not only accommodate human activity but also advocate for " A major issue is our disconnection from the life cycles of materials. Modernist ideals — obsessed with permanence, industrial materials, and sterile forms—have distanced us from nature and the craft of building. With that loss came a disregard for care, maintenance and renewal.