Colombian top architect Simón Vélez calls for buildings on a human scale

‘I am an old hippy’, says the Colombian architect Simón Vélez, with the luscious accent the Spanish treat the English language with – a chippie. Thus he excuses himself for his neat suit and tie, an obligatory outfit now he is to shake hands with the Queen of Holland and her princes and princesses.
Vélez is in Amsterdam to receive the Prince Claus Award for Culture and Development. A great honour – and with 100.000 euro also a considerable amount of money- for an architect who, in his homeland, has to operate on the sidelines of the dominant concrete trend.
‘I come from a country where people hate wood and bamboo, and worship concrete. It’s the same old story in every poor country: the less people possess, the more they yearn for cement.’
It was no coincidence that the only assignment he received for a social housing project was in a district close to a golf club for the rich elite, where he was allowed to carry out a few bamboo projects. ‘I am convinced that those community houses are now some of the cheapest and most dignified houses ever built in Colombia.’
The fascination for concrete and corrugated sheet roofs is perilous when the earth trembles or rips open, something that often happens in Colombia and the whole Caribbean region. It is a form of cultural imitation, confirms Vélez, an unconscious strategy of the poor to take a mainly symbolic step towards the world of the rich. But there is more.
Untreated wood that is used unprofessionally rots very quickly. And it is very combustible, which in urban areas poses a greater danger than earthquakes. So there are good reasons why people have stopped using bamboo in their housing construction.
Simón Vélez was granted the Prince Claus Award for his ‘focus on indigenous architectural practices’, said the jury referring to his love of Bamboo, and because of the development of ‘an elegant aesthetic that responds to bamboo’s natural qualities and collaborates with nature to create beauty in form, space and surroundings.’ Vélez reacts a bit bewilderedly to the grandiloquent analyses of his work.
He describes himself as an architect of many sorts, but resolutely rejects all pretences he deems too artistic or philosophical.  ‘Essentially I am a roof architect’ he commences. ‘The roof carries the meaning of the building. That is why the anti-nationalistic Bauhaus movement started with the “ridding” of roofs: they were too recognizable, too local. When it snows a lot, like in Northern Europe, you need a different roof than in Egypt or Greece, where it seldom rains. In Peru, you don’t even construct a roof; you make a shelter against the sun, while in Colombia the tropical rains can be so torrential that you need a big roof and drainage. Bauhaus aimed for a universalism that would make every local identity and therefore nationalism impossible in advance. That highlights the difference between classical architecture, that is beautiful everywhere in the world and modern architecture that is – also all over the world- so distinctly ugly.’
A little later he uses a different label to describe his work. ‘I am actually just a normal countryside architect,’ he says. That modesty is slightly feigned, but not entirely. ‘My relationship with bamboo came rather accidentally through a client who wanted me to build a stable for his horses and insisted that the building have a bamboo structure. That assignment caused me big problems; since bamboo is hollow it is anything but easy to use in a lasting structure. The solution, funnily enough lay in the use of concrete: by pouring concrete into the ends of the bamboo sticks, we could make lasting joints and therefore could create an enormous structure out of bamboo.’

The fascination for concrete and corrugated sheet roofs is perilous when the earth trembles or rips open, something that often happens in Colombia and the whole Caribbean region.

Simón Vélez opens his white Mac Book and flips through hundreds of photos and dozens of projects that he has carried out over the past few years. One by one impressive masterpieces supporting the decision of the jury of The Prince Claus Foundation. A temporary cathedral in Pereira, Colombia. A bridge in the Nankun mountains. A nomadic museum on the central square of Mexico City. The dome for the Indian pavilion for the upcoming World Expo in Shanghai. A church without religion in Cartagena, Colombia.
That last project was built on land that Vélez owns together with some other proprietors. ‘We are all former Catholics but don’t feel at home in any religion anymore. But he who renounces his religion, impoverishes his life. I for example have five grandchildren whom I would like to see baptised, but not in a Catholic church. He who wants to get remarried, is shoved into an ugly office with an official who has no sense of beauty or ritual. Funerals outside the church are even worse. At times like that I need surroundings where spirituality gets a chance but without having the experience and the ritual incorporated in an ecclesiastic structure.
The “church” has a distinctly Gothic feel with her unattainable ceiling and high, spiked arches. Other buildings also exude that transcendental atmosphere. According to Vélez, that is induced by the bamboo. After a brief search he clicks open a picture of a bamboo forest in Colombia. ‘That is my designer’, he says. And indeed: it looks more like the nave of a Gothic church than what we imagine to be a forest.
‘I am an ecological architect because I depart from the material I work with and the surroundings in which a church is placed and has to function. That means that I strive to a human scale in architecture. But that human scale means something different from the ideology of Le Corbusier, who chose the height of his ceiling so that you could replace a lamp without standing on a ladder. The “human scale” Vélez is talking about, is what he describes as ‘an architecture that acknowledges limits’.
He doesn’t need the macho-architecture that seeks ever higher skyscrapers as a proof of power and skill. ‘Concrete functions as an amplifier for building materials’, Vélez says. ‘It creates the possibility to endlessly challenge and break the human and natural scale of things. If you work on a basis of wood, bamboo and stone, you have to develop an aesthetic imposed by those natural materials.’
Moments later Vélez interrupts the conversation. He suddenly realises that he has said he is an ecological architect and wants to correct that straight away. ‘There are so many opportunists that want to green up their activities by putting eco or bio in front of it. And ecological fundamentalism scares me as much as Christian or Islamic fundamentalism.’
So does he have just an aesthetic and utilitarian link with nature and the planet? No. Of course we have to work on a way of life and a policy aimed at saving the planet, Vélez claims. ‘But that is not the reason I started working with bamboo. Although the social and ecological impact of using nine meter bamboo stakes with the same characteristics as steel pipes of the same length, is immense.  The production of steel creates a vast amount of pollution and carbon emissions, while big steel monopolies are generating ever growing profits. Bamboo on the other hand stores carbon and provides a living for small farmers. Architects are the main consumers of steel, so if we can switch to natural materials, we can have an immense impact on the environment.’
Which brings us back to his ecological side. And his one man battle against the cultural taboo on bamboo.