…at Sir Peter Cook’s Vallecas Housing, Madrid

Social housing is a good thing because it is a necessary thing. Most people who have had some contact with politics or architecture would agree with that. But there is a deeper dimension to social housing beside the imperative need to provide a roof over every citizen’s head. Cook-Robotham Architectural Bureau’s (CRAB) “blue monster” is good because it covers a need but, perhaps more importantly, it is good because it covers a want.

There is a deeper dimension to social housing beside the imperative need to provide a roof over every citizen’s head.

The social housing building designed by Sir Peter Cook’s practice is located in Vallecas, a lower-income neighbourhood located in the outskirts of the Spanish capital of Madrid. It is a neighbourhood that functions well, except perhaps for the lack of accessibility to the city centre that, in turn, discourages social fluidity.

The inhabitants of Vallecas come from different backgrounds, but they all buy their bread at the artisanal bakery, do groceries in the same supermarket, have kids in one of the same two schools, and would strike if the local pub were to be replaced with a chain restaurant. The problem with Vallecas is that, offering little revenue potential for investors, it has not grown to be a “nice” place.

Buildings have been built to the bare-minimum standards, using the same engineered-brick facades punctured with white plastic windows, standing beside avenues that loom inhospitable despite the efforts to make them airy. The lack of attention to pleasantness in the architecture has given the neighbourhood an Orwellian eeriness that outbalances the joviality of its people.

Then, as we drive through the Ensanche de Vallecas, we see a blue shape in the distance. As far as half a kilometre away we can tell there is something special about the corner we are approaching. The colours are different, but also the materials, the shapes, the angles, the scale of the windows. When we finally arrive near the building it becomes clear why this particular structure, whose purpose is the same as that of most buildings around it, was drawing us in with such force: it is joyful!

A down to earth building that nonetheless encompassed the vibrant, tongue-in-cheek aura of Cook’s fantasy ‘walking cities’ and other theoretical projects that shook the world of architecture through Archigram- a British comic-book style architectural magazine of the 60s whose contributors came to be regarded as “the Beatles of architecture”.

In an aesthetic desert where no one had bothered to lift other people’s spirits up, Sir Peter Cook and Gavin Robotham planted (or rather landed) a friendly alien who reminds us that “nice” things are nice, things that weren’t just meant to function but were designed with the aspiration to inspire and improve the neighbourhood. The building is not perfect; the courtyards are too dark to fulfil the hope of making them lively interior gardens and the materials show the wear and tear of time- the building’s budget was slashed during the infamous Spanish housing-bubble, an unfortunate incident that shows in some of the finishing touches.

But it is a building that shines with quirky gestures and eye-catching details. A building that tells us that someone cared about making the walk along a street populated with indifferent buildings and abandoned clearings more stimulating, someone’s way to work more pleasing, and local children’s imaginations more lively.

It is often through small gestures like the Vallecas Housing project that we find the motivation to do our best to improve the world we live in. Whether we design buildings for a living, sell products online, greet customers, or manage employees, we can learn something from this building: small gestures that improve everyday life are as powerful to those touched by them as grand and well-known projects.

It is often through small gestures like the Vallecas Housing project that we find the motivation to do our best to improve the world we live in.

Making the effort of introducing joy into the architecture of an apartment building can improve the mood of 97 families, and of the thousands of passers-by whose eye is caught by the colourful wink in the corner of a dull avenue. Certainly, the effort has been rewarded tenfold.