Architect, lecturer, and professor Luciano Kruk is one of the most renowned figures in Argentine architecture. With an architectural style deeply rooted in the landscape, Luciano Kruk has developed his own unique language in which concrete, light, and the experience of moving through a space take center stage. We spoke with the architect about his perspective on his work, the relationship between architecture and its surroundings, and his constant quest to evolve without turning his distinctive style into a formula.
He has been a visiting professor at the Polytechnic University of Madrid (ETSAM), the University of Venice (IUAV), UNIVALI in Santa Catarina, and USJT in São Paulo, Brazil, as well as at various Argentine universities. In addition, he has led seminars and given lectures in Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, Spain, and Italy. But for Kruk, every new project brings a fresh sense of excitement: “My work is about transforming realities. The realities of a place. So I continue to get excited about every new project—about being able to start something new, about striving to do my best, and about achieving something that I find inspiring,” he says.
Luciano Kruk: A Distinctive Style
When you have a particular style, the existence of a formula might seem inherent: “I think it’s impossible to escape that entirely; there’s always going to be a formula. It’s not so much a formula as such, but rather a way of processing things. But you can keep looking for new ideas related to the systems of construction and the ways in which architecture is perceived. You achieve that by looking at a lot of architecture or what’s happening in other art forms, so as not to get stuck in any way.”
Luciano Kruk’s architecture can be seen as a warm and livable reinterpretation of certain Brutalist principles. The raw power of concrete coexists with light, the landscape, and spaces designed to be lived in. “Concrete is the material for which, in a way, I’ve become known through the projects I’ve done,” he says.
The Argentine School of Architecture
His work also fits into a recognizable tradition of Buenos Aires architecture. But is there such a thing as an architecture unique to Buenos Aires? “Yes, I think there is. If you walk around the city, you can recognize it. It has its own school of thought, its own way of being done, and it’s of fairly high quality. And that’s where I place myself—within that school. Although there may not be many examples of concrete structures in Argentina—at least there weren’t as many 20 years ago—today there are; that has changed. What is true is that there’s a tradition linked to academic education—to the universities—that you can clearly see has always been there, working under that influence, and, of course, also under the international influence of the Modern Movement and what we know as modern architecture.”
In contemporary Argentina, architecture is primarily private; there is little public architecture. As a result, the architecture is homogeneous; there is no strident architecture: “There are several high-caliber architects who, in a way, are shaping the city of Buenos Aires, which continues to grow and be built,” he acknowledges.
Another recurring theme in his work is the relationship between the environment and the journey: “Yes, that’s in all the projects. I seek it out—or at least that’s how I imagine it—and I think about it that way from the very beginning: the journey from the moment one discovers the work until one enters it, and how one perceives that journey, step by step, in each of the spaces, from the exteriors to the interiors.”
“One of the things that inspires me is framing different views from the outside or creating interiors where one space looks out onto another, as part of a complete journey through which to discover the artwork.”
One of the challenges is working within landscapes that are somewhat fragile, such as a dune: “Yes, I’ve designed several structures on the Argentine coast—on the oceanfront, 350 kilometers south of Buenos Aires—where we have a landscape of dunes. And yes, what I aim for there is for the structure to interact with the landscape with a certain degree of care; they are architectural objects designed to coexist in harmony with those landscapes—the dunes, the coastal vegetation, the skies, and the view of the ocean.”
Architecture: Between Emotion and the Design of the Living Environment
Working as a university professor and giving international presentations also helps him grow: “Yes, because I ask myself questions. I’m always learning from my colleagues. Although the work is quite solitary—since you work on your projects alone, within your team, in your studio, or in your office—you also learn from everyone else; giving lectures makes me ask myself: What am I doing? What does this mean to me? What does it mean to others?”
But he also acknowledges that not everything has an answer: “These are issues that have to do with the emotional, with subjectivity, with the sensory—how someone enjoys certain things. I believe that architecture is not meant to be an art form, but it can become one on certain occasions. When we see architecture that we later recognize, remember, and refer to, it clearly becomes a work of art. But in day-to-day work—in solving the problems of construction and the built environment—that’s a different matter.”
Luciano Kruk continues to explore new ways of living in different landscapes. He recently completed an apartment building in San Martín de los Andes, Patagonia, and is beginning work on a new home in the Buenos Aires Delta area for a long-time client. These two distinct settings expand upon a career defined by the dialogue between architecture, the environment, and lifestyle.
Photographs: Daniela Mac Adden. Courtesy of: Luciano Kruk Estudio.
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