Among pe­da­gogy, ty­po­logy and con­text

Tra pedagogia, tipologia e contesto testo in italiano

Luca Cardani: It is often assumed that the quality of a project reflects the level of maturity of a society’s idea of architecture. Based on your experience, how has collective awareness evolved in recent years with regard to the concept of school, and how does this transformation concretely influence the design of new school buildings?

Sandy Attia e Matteo Scagnol: It’s helpful to connect the theme of the school to the places where we work and to our experience. Over the past 25 years, we have worked on school architecture mainly in South Tyrol, with a public client we might call privileged, one that recognizes education and schools as a foundational pillar of its culture. The awareness of the entire South Tyrolean community toward schools is very strong for both social and geographical reasons. The micro-urban development of the valleys is anchored in the school, a place whose value is universally acknowledged as central, capable of representing and partly shaping the entire community. For example, in the early 2000s, numerous competitions were held for vocational schools, driven by a political will to promote local craftsmanship as a traditional form of labor.
Thus, the idea of school in South Tyrol is deeply complex, linked to both people and the specificities of place; it is never a matter of mere numbers or generalizations but – within shared regulations and knowledge across the territory – develops case by case, increasing critical awareness and refining the discourse.

In recent decades, contexts such as South Tyrol and the Canton of Ticino have profoundly renewed the architectural project of schools, recognizing the strategic value of pedagogical orientation. While there are fixed and indispensable spatial elements, their relationships cannot be defined once and for all, nor reduced to a standard scheme. How, then, is an authentic dialogue between pedagogy and architecture built throughout the different project phases? In your view, where can the interaction between these disciplines foster innovation, and where does it require a degree of design autonomy?

In this regard, since 1995 the Province of Bolzano has adopted its own set of regulations, distinct from the national Italian framework, which is continuously updated to reflect the region’s unique educational culture. Naturally, there are many codes and regulations governing school design. On one hand, they can become a sort of «cage», leading to standardized and flattened architectural responses. On the other hand, they are often not rigorously enforced, which renders their value more indicative than prescriptive.
In Italy, for instance, school design is still officially guided by the Ministerial Decree of December 18, 1975. While it remains a reference point for school planning, in practice much of its content is overlooked. It includes some valuable concepts, but they are expressed in language that now feels outdated. Ultimately, the decree seems to be applied almost exclusively through its dimensional standards – standards that, ironically, concern precisely the aspects of school architecture that have evolved most significantly in contemporary educational thinking. Take circulation spaces, for example: they were originally sized with the idea of minimizing corridor width. Yet today these areas have taken on an entirely different role as key communal spaces – places for interaction, socialization, and informal learning – essentially becoming extensions of the learning environment itself – genuine places representing the «beyond the classroom».
From our perspective, another area where current regulations could be more nuanced involves the relationship between spatial specificity and flexibility. We don’t believe that every space should serve a single, fixed function; rather, we advocate for environments that embody a particular character and atmosphere, allowing for adaptive use over time. Spaces should not be rigidly assigned to predetermined functions but instead support evolving pedagogical needs. Current regulations often encourage a fragmented approach to spatial design, but their real value emerges only when different environments are connected within a coherent educational vision. In our view, the future of school architecture lies precisely in this capacity for design to articulate a strong identity – an identity rooted in a pedagogical framework that architects can translate into built form.

The update of school architectural themes and programs has often been accompanied, in many European countries, by significant revisions of the regulatory framework. In your view, what are the most relevant aspects of current regulations that you work within, and how do they add value to the school project? Yet regulations often reflect pressures external to architectural discourse: how can actual design freedom and spatial research be guaranteed within a prescriptive system?

The relationship between pedagogy and architecture isn’t fixed; it doesn’t fall neatly into black-and-white categories but unfolds across a wide spectrum of nuance.¹ There are many preconceived notions about the roles each party should play. Pedagogues often criticize architects for not fully considering how educational activities unfold within spaces, yet it’s equally true that architects can sometimes recognize latent spatial potentials that educators may have overlooked.
The dialogue between the two disciplines is valuable for many reasons. It’s not only enriching but absolutely essential to hold together pedagogical thinking and architectural thinking through continuous exchange. Yet the process is anything but straightforward  –  there’s no fixed method, and school administrators,² who set the pedagogical direction, change over time. This evolution inevitably leads to shifting ideas and sometimes even to reconsideration of foundational principles. Such collaboration succeeds only when each party’s expertise is fully respected: pedagogues provide a clear educational vision; architects translate that vision into built form. Pedagogues shouldn’t be turned into architects, nor architects into pedagogues. At its core, this dialogue  –  especially in participatory design processes  –  is about building a shared understanding, one that risks becoming detached from local realities if imposed from above.
One of the biggest challenges in this dialogue is establishing the school’s priorities: identifying them, focusing on them, but without locking them into rigid prescriptions that leave no room for evolution. Another difficulty at this early design stage lies in creating a practical, effective tool  –  a real working reference that can guide the design process as key decisions are made. At the same time, the quality of space deeply influences how it is experienced, shaping individuals’ engagement with architecture and contributing to their broader cultural understanding.
The true skill of the architect – and perhaps the greatest challenge – is to respond to educational needs while allowing for their inevitable future transformations. It’s about conceiving a design that transcends rigid specialization while remaining open to it, capable of integrating, accepting, and experimenting. Good architecture carries its own enduring strength: it adapts over time, remaining functionally flexible while preserving its unique character.

Competitions are often seen as a privileged tool for architectural research. In your view, what is their specific value in constructing a project and, more broadly, in reflecting on the theme of schools? While competitions offer an opportunity for experimentation and dialogue, they also risk leading to proposals toward conventional, broadly accepted, or «winning» solutions?

We work primarily through competitions, which are fundamental to us because – if approached with the necessary freedom – they allow us to question today’s schools to design the most appropriate ones. We believe in architecture, and in that sense, we rely on the strength of architectural thinking above all else. The competition thus becomes an opportunity to maintain continuity in research, advancing knowledge of school architecture with each project.
In our approach, we always strive to be radical. We seek a strong idea of the school relative to the opportunity and, once found, we develop and pursue it. However, our work also retains an element of imprecision: it is never rigidly assertive but remains critical. Advancing an idea does not exclude profound changes if new factors arise that no longer convince us. We believe it is necessary to maintain a margin for questioning, keeping the project open to new stimuli. This, for us, is the most demanding research, which is often costly, but allows us to consider the work in its complexity as a continuous contribution to the same theme, enriched and deepened over time.

The pedagogical shift from teaching to learning has profoundly influenced the design of school spaces. The classroom, increasingly redefined as a «home base», has acquired new meanings, while accessory and transitional spaces have taken on unprecedented educational roles. From a typological standpoint, how much does this transformation impact contemporary school design? Do we see continuity with previous models, or are we facing a radical break? In this context, how does the character of the place – both geographically and in terms of urban fabric – influence the architectural form and spatial program? Does the school remain an autonomous object or increasingly build relationships with the city and territory, thus altering the balance between pedagogy, typology, and architectural design?

The more we advance in our work, the stronger our conviction grows that certain canonical and typological elements of architecture possess timeless expressive and functional power capable of giving form to ideas. This is especially true for schools, which are by definition complex systems of relationships: first among people, then among spaces with different characters. A portico with a rhythm of columns, for example, has the typological and expressive strength to contain all the novelties expected of a school today, such as the delicate balance between freedom and belonging. We fundamentally study the site we work on, reflect on certain architectural concepts, and then strive to anchor them to the place, establishing a relationship between context and architecture: seeing what the site offers and what it receives, and vice versa.
One of the recent schools we designed, an elementary and middle school, is based on the basilica typology. A large central nave holds and distributes all classrooms and learning spaces, creating internal rhythm. The facade reflects this study of repetition, rhythm, and proportional relationships between parts and the whole. In the school we built in Bolzano, the courtyard typology is strongly evocative, expressing a recognizable sense of place. It’s an H-shaped plan with a central atrium and two courtyards facing opposite sides: one side shapes the collective learning space, with classrooms and teaching areas; the other defines a public square, with the gymnasium and more open functions. Typology has its scale, emphasis, and durability beyond time. When the character of a type is valued, it can acquire a monumental quality – not in rhetorical terms, but in the sense that its essential nature can imprint itself in children’s memories for life, embodying the very idea of school. For instance, the «Collodian» schools of the 19th century remain embedded in collective imagery, evoking a school gathered around a courtyard: during lessons and recess alike. Many schools from the 1970s, however, have not withstood time: today they are unrecognizable, many slated for demolition.
Ultimately, regarding typology, we must acknowledge one thing: the school has seen little fundamental change over centuries. If we look at the madrasa, for example, we find small spaces alongside large ones, connected through patios that build a school community maturing over time. It’s a typological layout that repeats with little change, adapting each time to scale and place. We firmly believe in typology but also recognize the other side of the coin. If we were to x-ray competition juries’ projects in recent years, it would seem that schools increasingly resemble one another. The projects are well-crafted and aesthetically appealing, yet the image of school they propose is always the same, which should give us pause. Has the convergence between pedagogy and architecture produced this uniformity? Are standards to blame? Perhaps competition briefs lack the courage to demand truly authentic proposals? Or perhaps juries lack the courage to evaluate based on true originality, authenticity, and innovation? Some studios in Europe have addressed this issue of school typology as ongoing research that challenges regulations, such as Austrian firm Dietrich | Untertrifaller Architekten. Regulations and innovation are like conflicting siblings, yet from this very conflict arise the crucial questions about the meaning of what we do or should do.

I’d like to conclude by discussing the character of school architecture, its recognizable form and image within a community, and its potential to contribute to architectural and construction culture. The recent renewal of school buildings seems to suggest a broader direction for contemporary architecture: responding to new pedagogical demands while also addressing sustainability, technical, and contextual challenges. What, in your view, are the main characteristics emerging from this transformative phase? Does it still make sense to speak of the «search for character» in school architecture as a unified identity, or is it more appropriate to speak of «characters» as variations or design alternatives within an evolving field?

Since 2010, schools have become the most prominent public theme. Schools are at the centre of concern and thus one of the most significant expressions of our time. We believe it is important that buildings possess character, though today it seems increasingly difficult to bestow character upon a building, as architects’ tools appear blunted by distractions pulling them away from architecture’s intrinsic means. We do not believe in a single, universal character for schools, or at least not one character that describes all schools. There is, however, an important historical fact that might help us reflect. After great crises – wars, for example – communities often gather to build a school as a gesture of unity, equality, and hope for the future. Perhaps here lies the true character of schools: in being the central, shared concern of a whole community, envisioning and building the kind of society it wishes to inhabit, hopefully a better one.
Each of us should elevate the school theme to respond to that community. What is the character of the school at that moment, in that place, for that community? The school is a building that constitutes the foundation for a society to exist.

Notes

1. Sandy Attia is co-author together with Beate Weyland of Progettare scuole: tra pedagogia e architettura, Guerini scientifica, Milano 2015.

2. In Italy, the dirigente scolastico (school administrator) is responsible for directing, coordinating, and managing an autonomous educational institution. The role combines administrative, organizational, and pedagogical responsibilities. In the Canton of Ticino, the direttore (school director) holds a central role in the pedagogical, organizational, and administrative management of the school and represents the institution at the local level. However, the position is accountable to the Cantonal Department of Education (DECS) and operates with a more limited degree of autonomy.