Architecture for Humans and Fish

Life began in the ocean over three billion years ago. Today, climate scientists predict that sea life can collapse in a little under fifty years. Human activity has hurtled us towards a planetary tipping point for ocean acidification and with 50% of coral reefs and 85% of oyster reefs already gone, marine biodiversity is in a critical state. I confront these realities head-on every day in the form of two companies: one where I design for people and the other where I design for fish.

My architecture studio spun out of a long-term personal fascination with vernacular architecture. After moving to Denmark in 2015, I recorded the surroundings with my sketchbook and learned about half-timber framed houses.

In 2016, I started investigating the seagrass thatching techniques on the island of Læsø. During the Middle Ages, the community deforested the island to fuel the salt pits and with most of the hay being used as animal feed, they turned to washed-up eelgrass as a resource. Seagrass thatching was women’s work, and the women of Læsø innovated to ensure their roofs would be covered during the harsh winters. They transferred their material knowledge from weaving skeins of wool to twisting and weaving massive ropes of seagrass through timber structures. Even the dancing on the roof that they performed was essential to the construction process.

In my first projects I attempted to develop a prefabricated seagrass thatching system. My initial goal was to create a more convenient way to build with eelgrass, which is a CO-2 neutral, rot-resistant, fire-resistant, and naturally insulative material. It’s an incredible resource underutilized by the Danish construction industry.

To study how the system worked, I built test pavilions on my old campus and when my work went viral in 2019, it allowed me to continue my research at TU Delft. Here, I delved deeper into the complexities of seagrass and other marine biobased materials and I was also increasingly confronted with the disappearance of marine habitats and biodiversity.

I gained permission to volunteer with the Fieldwork Company to replant the seabed, a process where each eelgrass plant has its roots wrapped around nails that are manually stabbed into the seabed by hand. As I held my breath through my snorkel and struggled clumsily with diving weights, I was ashamed that I only managed to plant one hundred plants underwater in four hours of work. I felt even worse seeing the field of seagrass planted the year before, which only had a few sickly-looking survivors left.

This experience became the catalyst for my second company. I had already experimented with shellcrete, a cementless form of bioconcrete made from shells that I developed on my kitchen table in the middle of the pandemic. For my master’s thesis, I cast it into conventional bricks, which was a rather uninspired solution. Then the wheels in my head began to turn. Perhaps the ultimate application of this material was not for the building industry. Perhaps it was meant for biodiversity. There was just one problem: my formula was not waterproof.

In 2022, I met Dr. Shannon Hanson, a recent PhD graduate in Marine Geochemistry in Copenhagen. Within twenty minutes, we decided to start ReefCircular together. We didn’t have a laboratory, an investor, or any funding to speak of in the beginning, but we felt an immense urgency. We couldn’t wait for the market to realize there was a problem, we would just have to create the solution.

Two weeks later, we started crushing shell waste from fisheries in the tiny kitchenette of a clothing store. There was no work spaces for biodesigners in Copenhagen but we eventually managed to nab a spot at the shared CPH Labs facility. In my studio, I worked long, challenging hours in pharmaceutical construction and engineering, reinvesting the profit into our R&D and 3D printing production.

Through two years of careful testing, Shannon reinvented the bioconcrete formula to be 100% biobased, marine-derived, and water-resistant. Today, we’ve deployed twenty-four pilot reefs in clay off the coast of Hundested, demonstrating clearly with data that reefs DO measurably have an impact on biodiversity in Denmark, and we’re on the cusp of launching our first shell bioconcrete reef pilot for an oyster restoration project in Scotland.

My combined design practice is a defiant expression of hope in the face of devastating climate truths, and a core personal belief that we must use our skills as architects to act and to build the future we want to see with our own hands. When I see the fish moving into our reefs and seals visiting, and when I teach the next generation of architects to understand the threads and connections between the environment, the construction supply chain, and our role as architects, this hope grows. We have an incredible power as architects, which is the power to visualize, to turn dreams into physicality. If we focus on what we can create, what we can do, instead of feeling discouraged, what other wonderful things can we bring into existence?

Main image: BoulderReef modules off of the coast of Hundested, 2024, ReefCircular. Photo © Anemo Robotics

Danish Design Award 2024, Finalist ReefTile, Reef Circular. Courtesy of the Danish Design Center