Thoughts

Over the course of approximately ten years of workshops dedicated to the regeneration of urban and rural spaces and the fitting out of interior spaces, Unica Space Force has progressively consolidated a practice based on a simple compositional and constructional grammar: wooden elements, assembled via self-building through participatory processes, capable of reconfiguring areas temporarily awaiting transformation. Seating systems, benches, stools, pergolas, shading devices, and micro-architectures for play or gathering: these are ordinary, unspecialized elements conceived as formal devices that activate and sustain patterns of use—meaning they invite people to linger, meet, and inhabit the space. Over time, these workshops have produced a multitude of interventions, differing in composition, form, and contextual conditions, yet all traceable to the same operational and constructional vocabulary. This vocabulary relies on the use of a few types of wooden elements and a repertoire of joints limited to minimal variations, a condition stemming from the use of elementary screw-based fastening systems.

It is precisely this reiteration—consolidated over time, recognizable, and active—that prompts a reflection extending beyond the individual design experience. One wonders what happens when the same spatial grammar is repeated over time, traversing different places, communities, and urban contexts. While on the one hand, reiteration seems to guarantee a certain methodological effectiveness—allowing for the rapid replication of public space activation processes—on the other hand, it raises a question that strikes at the very nature of variation.

How much of what changes from one intervention to the next is truly significant and exploratory? And how much instead remains confined within a field of possibilities already implicitly defined by the initial grammar? To what extent, in other words, is a structure of simple rules—reiterated in its methods and over time—capable of producing genuine spatial differences, and at what point does it instead tend to consolidate a repertoire of recognizable, almost typological forms? The question, then, goes beyond design's capacity to generate difference; it focuses instead on that intermediate, undefined threshold dimension where repetition ceases to be generative and becomes recognizable and stabilizing, verging on the definition of an autonomous language.

Replicability vs. Difference

After the realization of numerous interventions, the central issue concerns the relationship between replicability and difference, along which repetition introduces a critical threshold. Indeed, repetition—of modules, of the same construction element, of the same joint—is not a neutral operation: it produces invariants and, with them, recognizability.

This is the age-old dilemma that, in the field of typology, is reflected in the relationship between type and variation1, and which re-emerges here from the internal tension within a system of interventions linked by a common constructive-spatial vocabulary. By observing the cycle of workshops, the individual devices, and the significance of their uses, one understands how they constitute a system in which the architectural project is measured not by the outcome of a single intervention, but by its capacity to generate variation from a constant set of rules. It is therefore necessary to specify the realm within which variation and replicability interact. In this intermediate space, self-built devices assume a particular relevance: they make a common language explicit while simultaneously allowing for adaptation and reinterpretation, both through design thinking and the act of making. This results in an open and collaborative ("choral") way of working, where the continuity of rules imposes certain limits on transformation but, at the same time, multiplies its variants and constitutes its very condition, fueling a constant dynamic within repetition itself.

The presence of shared and enduring rules links typological theory to historic forms of collective habitat production, becoming clearer when observed through the notion of type. The type is a structure of relations that allows continuity to endure through transformations: what endures is not the specificity of the object, but the system of rules that guides its production. In this sense, the replicability of self-built devices can be interpreted as a contemporary form of typological reasoning: every intervention differs from the others, yet this difference unfolds within a shared field of possibilities.

The practice of self-building as a collective action approaches the forms of spatial production described in architectural studies as spontaneous architecture or architecture without architects2. In these forms, the construction of the habitat, which cannot be traced back to a single designer, is structured through the progressive assimilation of codes, rules, and techniques shared by entire communities of inhabitant-builders.

Settlements are thus formed over time, through sedimentation, by repeating construction practices, functional adaptations, and informal transmissions of knowledge. In these cases as well, the notion of type refers to a continuity that makes change itself possible: «Thinking through types [...] means thinking through analogies, images, and metaphors. It does not define what must actually be understood, but how something is understood. It provides a direction for the intellect and thought, and above all, encompasses the concept of continuity. In the same sense that the continuity of a type is interpreted, its change and transformation, its different states and meanings, are also interpreted»3. It is precisely within this relationship between permanence and transformation that the character of ordinary and vernacular architecture is recognized—architecture rooted in its place, where the coherence of construction languages derives from a collective process. Self-building and grassroots architecture therefore share a collaborative dimension, the essentiality of construction means, and an adherence to an underlying system of rules—implicit yet active—that make both replication and variation possible. In the case of Unica Space Force, this continuity of rules takes shape in the geometric and tectonic materiality of a single, ordinary construction element, which converts a physical limitation into a precise and fertile spatial manner: tectonics, here, is the art of building caught in its expressive dimension.

A Grammar of Construction

Across the projects collected in this volume, repetition operates at multiple scales. Some forms are intrinsic to the use of a single constructive element; others emerge from the ways in which that element is assembled; still others stem from a design approach that, through repeated experimentation and gradual refinement, has consolidated into a conscious and productive architectural language.

The Component and the Vibrating Surface

A first form of repetition concerns the very nature of the constructive component itself: a spruce timber member with a cross-section of 7×7 centimetres and a standardized length of 4 metres. This commercially available dimension acts simultaneously as an ordering device and a primary geometric constraint, governing both the vertical development of the structures and the extent of their roofed spans. In vertical assemblies, formal possibilities are conditioned by the slenderness of the timber, that is, by the tendency of a long and relatively thin member to buckle or bend under load. In horizontal structures, the maximum span—the distance covered between two supports—geometrically coincides with the length of the member itself, yet encounters an even more restrictive structural limit in the reduced cross-section, which is inherently prone to bending under its own weight. At the workbench, this parameter demands continuous technical negotiation. Excessive slenderness must be counteracted and deformation controlled, either by reducing the span of the element or by introducing intermediate supports. The material and dimensional threshold embodied by the timber member thus ceases to be merely a structural datum and becomes a spatial rule. The physical limits of the material are transformed into a conscious operative constraint, and the free span of four metres becomes the generative matrix that determines both the thickness and the scale of the built artefacts, translating a technological limitation into a precise measure of space.

Alongside this logic of assembly, a second form of repetition—one that intersects all the levels discussed above—lies in the consolidation of a constructive method based on the alternation of presence and absence. In both vertical planes (walls and screen-like diaphragms) and horizontal planes (roofs, pergolas, and shading devices), this alternation generates a rigorous sequence of solid and void governed by the modular rhythm of the 7×7 centimetre element. The repeated deployment of the timber member gives rise to a vibrating surface: a permeable screen whose capacity to filter light, air, and vision becomes increasingly complex as the assembly acquires depth through stratification. Such layering—achieved through the axial displacement of the members, with solids aligned over the voids below, even at half-module intervals, or through the insertion of transverse elements acting as spacers—produces a multiplicity of wall configurations generated from a single tectonic matrix. Over time, this constructive procedure has evolved into a conscious architectural idiom and an established operational practice.

A Taxonomy of Joints

Joints constitute another domain in which a consolidated form of repetition emerges, particularly in the recurring articulation of semi-rigid connections, hinges, and bearing supports. These assembly principles, initially developed through empirical experimentation and later refined through reflection and practice, find their expression in the design of structural connections. In most cases, these points of contact connect horizontal and vertical members. They function as tectonic microscopes: devices through which the complexity of the entire structure may be understood from its smallest constituent unit. Within the self-building practices developed thus far, the joint is simultaneously a singular element in which structural and expressive forces converge and a continuous system of geometric relationships that can be classified according to a limited number of recurring assembly logics.

The general principle privileges juxtaposition and fastening along parallel planes. Longitudinal and transverse timber members overlap orthogonally, occupying the modular field defined by the uprights. Complex woodworking operations are deliberately avoided; instead, the system relies entirely on connections achieved through adjacency and superimposition, whether parallel or perpendicular.

- The Base Joint and Ground Connection. In this configuration, the 7×7 timber module governs the crucial transition between the coplanar horizontality of the floor surface and the vertical diaphragms rising above it. Structural stability at the base is achieved by increasing material density through horizontal layering in depth. Short timber segments, each corresponding to the thickness of the wall above, are cut and stacked, interlocking in a comb-like arrangement between the primary uprights. The resulting crib-like timber base maximizes the bearing surface and stabilizes the wall against overturning forces, transforming the foundation into a compact wooden mass.

- Intermediate Connections. Moving upward along the vertical development, intermediate connections operate as tying systems that mechanically bind the various layers together through screw fixings. Their function is to resolve the bending instability and excessive slenderness of individual timber members by increasing the overall stiffness and moment of inertia of the wall-screen without enlarging the section of the component itself. This strategy is made possible by the invariant 7-centimetre module, which allows parallel frameworks to be woven across different planes of depth. Visual permeability is calibrated through the axial displacement of the layers—solid aligned with void—and further enriched by the introduction of transverse members acting simultaneously as spacers and span-breaking elements.

- Crown and Corner Joints. At the uppermost and corner conditions, the joint often acquires a three-dimensional configuration, becoming a spatial system of intersecting and interlocking members. Vertical supports are doubled to form composite uprights that embrace the transverse beam passing through them in both orthogonal directions. The resulting arrangement resembles a multidirectional comb joint in which the various frameworks interpenetrate and project into space the same vibrating rhythm already present in the surfaces below. Particular care is devoted to the millimetric alignment of the upper ends of the timber members, ensuring perfectly coplanar intrados and extrados surfaces. The transverse members positioned at the extremities act simultaneously as formal closures and spacers, fixing the rhythmic interval of the horizontal framework.

The vibration of light, legible in the shadows projected beneath the structure, demonstrates how the detail of the joint directly governs the spatial quality and permeability of the architectural device as a whole. Conversely, the intentional projection of the timber ends beyond the line of the corner upright foregrounds the logic of assembly, celebrating the joint as both a structural necessity and an architectural sign. Through this system of interlocking connections, a rhythmic counterpoint is established between the verticality of the uprights and the horizontality of the beams, projecting into three-dimensional space the same alternating sequence of solid and void that characterizes the layered screens below.

From grammar to language:
stability and manner

When a constructive solution is reiterated for a sufficient length of time, its function gradually exceeds the technical problem that originally generated it. The module, the joint, and the tectonic weave cease to be mere instruments of construction and become recognizable elements of a language. Their repetition establishes continuity across different interventions and makes it possible to identify a formal kinship even where context, program, and spatial configuration vary.

Such recognizability is not the result of deliberate intention but rather the cumulative effect of a practice that progressively consolidates its own operative rules over time. What initially emerges from an economy of means and constructive necessity gradually transforms into a form of linguistic coherence. Replicability thus concerns not only the built artefacts themselves but also the knowledge required for their construction. Workshop after workshop, operative principles are assimilated through direct experience, the repetition of gestures, reciprocal observation, and the collective resolution of constructive problems. In this sense, architectural projects generate both physical artefacts and a form of embodied knowledge embedded within practice. The continuity of the system therefore depends as much on the persistence of its material components as on the transmission of the skills that enable their reproduction.

It is perhaps at this point that the most delicate question emerges. Within Unica Space Force, replicability—as a habitual mode of process—has established itself as a genuine design technology operating simultaneously on three distinct yet intertwined levels.

The first is the operational level, where replicability produces efficiency. It reduces construction time, stabilizes processes, and enables projects to be realized rapidly across diverse contexts. The repetition of the same assembly logics, based on a shared constructive element and recurring joint configurations, becomes a resource that allows the architectural device to adapt without being reinvented from scratch each time.

The second is the pedagogical level, where the repetition of a common constructive grammar enables the transmission of knowledge through direct experience. Construction becomes a form of collective learning, and the stability of the language becomes the condition that makes the acquisition of technical skills by students and participants possible.

The third level is reached when replicability itself begins to construct language. At this point, its nature changes. What originated as an operational and pedagogical instrument also becomes a mode of architectural production endowed with its own expressive coherence. On the one hand, this “technology” enables the dissemination of lightweight and temporary practices for activating public space; on the other, it introduces the risk of a progressive stabilization of language itself. Every sufficiently stable language tends to generate recognizability, and recognizability, in turn, tends to delimit a repertoire. Interventions that differ in context and intention increasingly come to share a common formal and constructive logic, within which variation, although present, remains confined to a field of possibilities established by the original grammar.

Ultimately, the critical issue does not concern the quality of individual projects or their capacity for local activation. Rather, it concerns the overall nature of the system that these projects collectively construct over time. The critical threshold coincides with the moment at which language acquires such autonomy that variation risks transforming into manner.

Historically, the transition toward manner occurred when a structured language of rules—the classicist canon of the first half of the sixteenth century—became so thoroughly assimilated that its practitioners no longer operated according to the rules but upon the rules themselves. Logical relations were distorted, details were intensified, and exceptions and controlled tectonic tensions were introduced within an apparently orthodox system5.

Within the timber structures developed by Unica Space Force, this critical threshold manifests itself in a remarkably similar way. The 7×7 centimetre timber member and the screw joint, initially conceived as instruments of an economy of means linked to the urgencies of circumstance and pedagogy, gradually emancipate themselves from their original functional innocence. Once the constructive system has been codified and stabilized, each new intervention finds itself operating within a regime that might be described as a form of conceptual mannerism. Designers, builders, and students become so familiar with the structural limits, material tolerances, and joint configurations of the system that they are able to begin deliberately testing and stretching them.

Variation, while responding to the specificities of urban or rural contexts, increasingly takes the form of an investigation internal to the language itself. The axial displacement of solids and voids, the intentional extrusion of timber ends at corner joints, and the crib-like stratification of the ground connection cease to function merely as tectonic solutions and become rhetorical figures within an autonomous architectural discourse. The real question at stake resides in this conceptual thickness: whether the system of rules gradually hardens into a closed typological repertoire, where the spatial outcomes of architectural devices become increasingly predictable and the activation of urban space risks collapsing into the repetition of a single formal language; or whether maniera, understood in its productive sense, can be adopted as a conscious critical stance through which the potentially endless reiteration of the 7×7 centimetre timber module becomes an experimental field for the ongoing generation of new habitats.