CEMENTO
(2017- in progress)
Concrete is everywhere. In the skeletons of the cities, of the housing blocks, in the silence of vast urban areas. As modern architecture rises, shaped by minimalism and efficiency, it leaves behind not just a physical trace but a psychological one.
The smooth, grey surfaces that define so many cityscapes are not neutral. They reflect a logic of control, of repetition, of simplicity stretched to its limits. These environments—stripped of variation and texture—can dull the senses. We speak of cognitive boredom, a state in which the mind, lacking stimulation, turns inward. Researchers describe a low hum of unease, barely perceived but physiologically real.
Cement doesn’t only affect the mind. Its production is one of the most polluting processes on the planet. Each ton comes at a cost of heat, of carbon, of air made difficult to breathe. In dense cities like Berlin, this cost is amplified. The concrete warms the streets, hardens the air. Urban heat islands emerge. Cooling becomes a necessity. Energy demand spikes. This stark reality should concern us all and motivate us to seek sustainable alternatives.
Yet the construction continues. Berlin produces and consumes millions of tons of cement annually. The city grows upwards and outwards, often without pause. And with every new slab, the gap between design and human need widens. This underscores the urgency of rethinking our approach to urban design and the responsibility we all share in making this change.
Minimalist buildings, while functional, can feel indifferent. Their openness can become exposure. Their segmentation, confinement. Few places for retreat, few materials that soften. Warmth is traded for scale. Wood and stone give way to steel and concrete. Understanding the psychological impact of these design choices can help us empathize with those who experience them on a daily basis.
As Berlin moves toward its climate goals—seeking neutrality by 2045—questions surface: What kind of architecture sustains life, not just structurally but emotionally? What do we lose when we prioritize efficiency over other considerations? Transitioning to more sustainable architectural practices cannot only help us meet our climate goals but also create more livable, human-centered cities.
This project follows those traces: in the light against a bare wall, in the heat rising from the pavement, in the quiet discomfort of space. It is not just about concrete. It is about how we live within it. Let's use this understanding to advocate for more human-centered and sustainable architectural practices in our cities.