In a sector often reduced to square metres, yields and regulatory constraints, Shahram Agaajani offered an unexpected breath of fresh air. Addressing an audience of property professionals, lawyers and a few political decision-makers, the founder of Metaform chose to set aside the technical jargon and return to the very essence of his profession: humanistic architecture.
His observation is harsh but lucid. “Wherever I go over the past two years, I hear the same refrains: politicians are at fault, developers are greedy, architects have no vision, young people are disillusioned and the old have settled in too much,” he laments. But refusing to stand still is already building. “The world moves on without us”, he adds, inviting us to rise from the “armrest of comfort” to regain momentum.
This momentum, Metaform has chosen in its own decisions: to hire rather than lay off, to create rather than suffer the crisis, to deploy rather than withdraw. For Agaajani, architecture is not a service but “an act of faith: faith in beauty, in connection, in time. It must “dare tenderness in concrete, nuance in alignment and humanity in every detail”.
His speech becomes a manifesto. Lightening standards rather than piling them up. Think sustainability in terms of a building’s ability to evolve, rather than just in terms of the materials used. Enhancing the quality of life in housing, which for too long has been reduced to standardised surface areas. Restore the importance of local craftsmanship, stonework and rendering. Simplify procedures that stifle rather than reassure. And above all, to put beauty back at the heart of the city. “Aesthetics are not a luxury, but a political necessity”, he insists.
“Let’s simplify. intelligently build the city on the city rather than devouring the fields. Let’s stop stretching out our villages, let’s redensify intelligently, let’s mix functions, let’s reduce distances, let’s repair fabrics and, above all, let’s rebuild trust between citizens, banks, politicians, developers, contractors and architects. Without it, no project can really come to fruition. And if you don’t feel like inventing, you can just look…”. He cites examples from Vienna, Zurich, Amsterdam and Barcelona, where density can become desirable, where the city reinvents itself rather than spreading its housing estates over fields. He describes an urbanism of cooperation rather than competition, where developers, politicians, engineers and residents co-construct sustainable projects.
A symbol of this vision: the future national velodrome at Mondorf-les-Bains. Designed as a circular and open architectural gesture, it embodies what it stands for: shared facilities, integrated landscaping, modularity of use. “The velodrome is not a destination, it’s a departure”, he sums up, calling for it to become a contemporary agora, capable of bringing people together as much as a lively neighbourhood.
In his keynote, the architect pays tribute to the workers, contractors, elected representatives and clients who still believe that “a project is not just infrastructure, but urgent poetry”. The word is rare in this type of evening, but it reflects the ambition: to transform the act of building into an act of hope.
Agaajani is not content with an aesthetic plea. He is calling on all of us to know “what we really want to build” and to assess whether we are ready to “lighten what is holding us back and free what is suffocating us”. Property, he says, is not just a matter of square metres, but of generations. It’s about regaining confidence. A movement that needs to be set in motion.
His speech ends with a heartfelt thank you: “Thank you for still believing that building is not a luxury but an urgent poetry.” A breath of fresh air that, for the duration of a dinner, reconciled stone and human.
