Daryan Knoblauch
Daryan, please introduce yourself:
I am Daryan, founder and director of the Architecture Office - Daryan Knoblauch. The studios approach is articulated in form of cultural centers, ephemeral pavilions and devices for artistic performances.
Prosthetic Vessel, Mexico City, 2024 © Daryan Knoblauch
#1 To start off, could you share what first inspired you to pursue architecture and how your perspective on the profession has developed since then?
I was initially drawn to architecture not so much by buildings, but by systems—by infrastructures of performance, control, ritual, and desire. My entry point wasn’t the classic fascination with form, but rather a deep curiosity about how space enables a brutalization of display, how environments act on bodies, how they choreograph movement and behavior, and how they can be reprogrammed. I’ve been trained as an architect across continents, and only over time did I learn that the “architectural machine”—the very subject that drew me into the field—isn’t exactly en vogue to talk about (laughs). But I’ve never stayed far from it.
#2 Your work often integrates elements of contemporary culture, societal issues, and technology. How do you ensure that these diverse influences harmonize to create cohesive architectural narratives?
For me, coherence in architectural work does not arise from uniformity or aesthetic consistency, but from the clarity of a conceptual operating system—an internal logic that holds disparate elements in productive tension. The core ambition of the studio has always been to use architecture as an optical instrument: instrumentalizing space to perceive the world differently, and challenging our notions of comfort, collectivity, and intimacy. The work is therefore always grounded in inquiry, whether client-based or self-initiated. That inquiry produces the script, while all architectural elements become proxies operating in service of that script—be it philosophical, sociological, or anthropological in nature.
#3 The Megaphone Pavilion is part of your long-term SCENIUS 26003 project, and its design seems to combine both temporary and flexible elements. Could you walk us through the concept behind this pavilion, how it interacts with its environment, and the role it plays in the 10-year infrastructural adaptation plan?
The Megaphone Pavilion is a prototypical act within SCENIUS 26003, an ongoing investigation into spatial infrastructure as a performative and adaptive medium. Rather than treating the pavilion as a fixed object, we approached it as a responsive membrane—an atmospheric device that negotiates between architecture, climate, and collective occupation. The large-scale tensile structure is suspended by a rented crane and anchored by eight locally sourced rocks, positioned within the urban forest of Logroño. The materiality of the fabric—its capacity to billow, breathe, and reflect light—creates a dynamic relationship with wind, sunlight, and the bodies that gather beneath it. The pavilion acts as a gathering machine, generating shade where needed, and has so far hosted a variety of performances, debates, events, sociological surveys, and workshops.
Scenius 26003 - Megaphone Pavilion, Concéntrico, Logroño, 2024 / Photography © Sara Cuerdo
#4 You founded your own practice relatively early and have already developed your own architectural language and approach. Did this evolve gradually during your time at university, or was there a specific turning point that triggered it?
Throughout my time at university—for better or worse—I often felt as though I was producing a kind of counterculture through the architectural language I was developing. This stemmed from the often bizarre motivations of professors who were using architecture in ways I couldn’t relate to. It felt like a soft-washing of social conflicts, where architecture was expected to have no author, no edge, no identity, no conflict—only to follow a set of prescribed rules in order to be deemed “good,” regardless of its actual intent. I search for structural systems that are real—where hierarchies, dependencies, and systemic logics are clearly legible. We stage conflict in quite literal terms, albeit through different conceptual lenses. I agree that there is a language to the work, but since founding my practice two years ago, at the age of 29, the vocabulary is still growing and expanding day by day.
#5 Your work also includes stage design for performances. How did you get involved in this field, and what aspects of it do you find particularly compelling?
I started my practice after winning an international competition for the Mies van der Rohe Foundation in Barcelona in 2023. The pavilion my studio developed was called Free Air—a large-scale, 200-square-meter structure that filtered and mediated the city’s invisible, polluted air. For its inauguration, I invited over 25 young performers to collaborate. They were given carte blanche to challenge, engage with, and incorporate the pavilion into a durational performance piece. The event drew a large audience and ultimately transformed the perception of the architectural intervention—it was experienced not just as a structure, but as a collective ritual. The ephemeral unity and social choreography that emerged from that moment sparked an approach within the studio that we have continued to explore ever since. We work with a select group of clients whom we view as active collaborators—individuals or institutions operating on similar themes, though often through artistic mediums. This shared sphere enables us to test, train, and experiment with space under unique conditions, allowing for the development of architectural proposals that are more daring, risky, and like-minded than would typically be possible in conventional contexts.
Free Air, Mies van der Rohe Foundation, Barcelone, 2023 / Photography © Jose Hevia
#6 As a Studio Master at the Architectural Association and Associate Lecturer at the Royal College of Art, how do you integrate your academic roles with your professional practice to enrich both?
I became the youngest Studio Master among the teaching staff at the AA when I was appointed back in 2021 and in a way this generated for myself a joker position in which the liberty and freedom to test and experiment architectural concepts from early age onward became extremely important. Today, research and practice are intrinsically intertwined—whether through the institutional frameworks of the AA and RCA, or through the methodological operations of projects within the architectural office.
#7 How do you see the role of an architect in today's society?
In my observation, we’ve been moving through a time of perpetual crisis for the past two decades—forcing new architectural practices to engage with questions that matter today, rather than drowning in nostalgia or personal obsessions. I see more radical and relevant positions emerging in the last five years than from practices still operating within formal approaches that have been tested—and resolved—many times before. At the same time, I also observe a regressive retreat from architecture as a propositional tool, perhaps as a reaction to this shift. In our studio, we believe in the project, the idea, and its translation into reality. There are many ways to engage with this profession, which I find fascinating, and I would like to see more young architects expand the definition of architecture through the production of space.
Scenius 26003 - Megaphone Pavilion, Concéntrico, Logroño, 2024 / Photography © Laurian Ghinitoiu
#8 How does your environment influence your work?
We are currently developing projects in Atlanta, Madrid, Copenhagen, Berlin, Stockholm, and London. This means that my day-to-day environment is mobile and constantly in flux—train rides, flights, and video calls have become the operative conditions when you choose to work on projects you truly believe in. I embrace this fluctuation and don’t think one has to conform to the demands of the local context in which the office is physically based. While I’m often on the move, we recently relocated the studio to a new space in Berlin-Neukölln—a large former factory that once functioned as a laboratory. It sits beside one of the Spree canals, surrounded by machine buildings, production facilities, storage houses, and concrete silos. My team and I work from there. I believe the design of the studio environment is essential to the kind of projects we produce; the atmosphere of being and thinking together is just as important as having space to prototype, render, read, and continuously translate ideas, claims and observations into reality.
#9 Three things that inspire you at the moment?
Waking up at 5am. Matthew Barney. Work.
#10 What do you currently read, watch, listen to?
Check out my Spotify—since 2016, I’ve been systematically creating monthly playlists where I collect everything I’m obsessed with. In general, Lil Yachty, Oklou, and Sega Bodega are on heavy rotation. I just finished reading The Secret Life of Salvador Dalí by Salvador Dalí and recently started Spheres by Sloterdijk. I don’t watch.
Warm, Jojo Luniere, Zentrum für Literatur, Muenster, 2022 / Photography © Ruben Tsangaris
Links
website: daryanknoblauch.com
Instagram: @daryanknoblauch
Photo Credits: © Daryan Knoblauch, © Sara Cuerdo, © Jose Hevia, © Laurian Ghinitoiu, © Ruben Tsangaris
Interview by Caroline Steffen