Gaetan SIEW, the visionary architect

Over time, I have come to realise there are three key components to any inspiration. 

The first is  travelling. I am an unrepentant traveller, always ready and curious to go anywhere, even if it is to visit a country for the second or third time. I always discover something new during my trip; another point of view, a different angle, a new situation... Cultures from all over the world interest me and make me more curious. An architect who travels has eyes that scrutinise everything he sees; buildings, spaces, people, traditions, colours, fragrances... Sitting at the terrace of a café, observing passers-by, imagining their thousand and one stories..., is one of my favourite pastimes! 

People watching. This is the second aspect I use in all my projects. There is a psychology of humans and societies that naturally serves the work of the architect, constituting the spatial envelope of all human activity.  

My third and final inspiration comes from  books, something instilled by my wife Pascale, who has made it a profession. Books use words, vocabulary, giving room to the imagination to shape these events and situations. These same words inspire different spaces depending on the mood; books have this power to provide each and every one of us with our own cosy universe. 

Two projects are dear to my heart.   

The first one goes back ten years ago but without success thus far. It would imply transforming the Port-Louis' Granary  into a cultural window on the world, a place where culture would be expressed in all its forms. Dance and music would, for example, blend all cultures from Asia, Africa and Europe - a platform promoting cultural mixing, for a better tomorrow. 

The second project would be to connect Port Louis to Grand Bay through a metro on wheels. 

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”, says the Chinese proverb. 

Doing better each time, pushing through, overcoming obstacles - everything was done gradually; one idea led to another, creating something that enriched and often made it real. 

Once completed, each project has its own identity. If we get into the details, however, there exist some constants around the organisation of spaces.  

As far as possible, we ensure there is cross ventilation - a room where nature is visible on the two facades, creating a seamless connection between interior and exterior spaces, hence better integrating the house into its garden.  

There is also some sort of fluidity between the different rooms, favouring screens and protected passages to actual doors. 

These few principles do guide our design, but it is obvious that outside of residential architecture, other imperatives are just as important. 

I have a passion for cities and their people. I started out as an architect, whose job is to solve a particular problem by providing a harmonious and pleasant solution - a welcoming place to conduct a specific activity.  

I naturally went from the house to the city, from the cell to the urban space as a whole. All human activities happen in places designed and built to accommodate them. My trips were conducted not as a tourist but as a travelling architect, often with key partners on the spot; other architects, mayors, city professionals..., who have opened my eyes and ears. These encounters have been crucial for my career and my involvement in the development of urban spaces was gradual and natural. 

For example, the day water came to the tap in Kibera, a slum of one million people in Nairobi, little girls started going to school instead of fetching water every morning. A generation later, these young women have an education; they have fewer children, they have jobs, and so on. These small events definitely add up to the benefits brought about by the city’s solutions. 

The trip that has made the biggest impression on me is the trip of a lifetime. The Silk Road from Istanbul to Xi'an in China with my son. 18,000 kilometres among the local population, living in their homes, like them, for three months.

Architecture has always been able to adapt and integrate with nature. This was visible across the world through the traditional habitat. This architecture knew how to integrate into its natural environment by respecting natural resources with sobriety.   

Then technology arrived and this traditional know-how was replaced and forgotten. For example, the use of air conditioning in favour of good natural ventilation in tropical places. 

Today, all countries are going back to these basic conditions - some out of conscience, others for financial reasons, and others still, out of necessity. 

The building industry is responsible for 39% of global carbon emissions, it is crucial for architects to have their say! 

Some people say a house is not just four walls and a roof, but the space contained within those elements. It is that intangible space that brings comfort and the warm feeling of living in an exceptional place. 

With a climate like ours, in tropical latitudes, this translates into a permanent visual contact with nature - a total ambiguity between interior and exterior spaces, characterised by a lush and exuberant tropical flora. 

I particularly like this Japanese approach that reduces to a minimum the furniture and objects to leave only the essence, the essential: emptiness to connect the whole!  

Spaces are fluid and communicate with each other through screens and vegetation - even the bathrooms seem to connect with the garden. 

I am extremely interested by the city and its architecture.  

The city is a human and social structure. Shakespeare said: “What is a city, but its people?”. This is still true today, and it is in this direction that my involvement with the city and its architecture has its meaning.