Pause
My project is a pause.
In architecture, many different buildings exist in the same realm. A pavilion, community centre, airport. The list goes on. But can architecture also be designed to function as a pause? A small break in between the traffic? Or a small break in your daily routine?
The project is situated at three different locations along the edge of Tallinn’s medieval centre, where the old city meets newer developments. A sudden boundary, without a threshold designed to ease the shift from one to the next. These sites were selected based on the various intensities and intervals of public transport. The first location, next to the old town and the Viru hotel, serves as the main site. The second sits in the middle of traffic, beside Freedom Square and surrounded by a three-lane road on either side, with buses and trams passing frequently. It offers a stepping stone to the city’s newer parts. The third is placed in the park, bridging two green areas and creating a safe place to wait for transport at night.
In a city centre challenged by layered scales and diverse architectural languages, the project responds with a system designed entirely at the scale of the human body. These scales are found in material choices, subtle height differences, and depths that shape the walls, elevations and surroundings. It mediates the differences in scale, people, and spatial languages.
Built on the idea of small implementations to create a larger impact, Pause offers a space not just for transit, but for presence. It functions as a social threshold. Part shelter, part meeting point, part memory. An anchor where people pause, reflect, and reconnect with their city and with one another.
Together with this framework, soft curves shape the landscape. They guide and embrace visitors, leading them toward the various functions embedded in the site. The canopy enhances this embrace, creating a space where people can wait, spend time, and meet with others.
Rooted in Estonia’s local materials and shaped by the colours of its seasons, the project suggests a pathway for new locations to come. What does it mean if half of a site is lowered by a torso? If the step toward the coffee bar shifts up or down by one foot? These small spatial gestures offer another layer, a new dimension that enhances everyday use.
Pause becomes a breathing point in the city. Not monumental, but a necessity.

Synergy in Paradox is a proposal for a new ferry terminal in Tallinn.

The current terminal offers an underwhelming entrance; its infrastructure forms a border between the city and the coastline; and the typology shows similarities to that of a racetrack. These observations have been directly translated into objectives: A grand entrance to Tallinn; A walkable coast; and A temporary F1 track. These objectives form an apparent contradiction: A paradox.

Although, by implementing scale, sequence and system as operators for the design process, it has been possible to achieve these goals and have them reinforce each other: A synergy
Because of its large scale, an intermediary is implemented to bridge the gap between objectives, operators, and the actual design. This intermediary ensures that the project has its own character: A hexagonal transition zone between the orthogonal infrastructure and the dense city scape.

In summary, the project comprises a ferry terminal, an elevated park, and a temporary Formula 1 circuit, distinguished by a unique character achieved through the application of a hexagonal intermediary framework.

This project envisions the transformation of a former railway warehouse complex in Kopli, Tallinn, into a hybrid dynamic community facility. Drawing from the site’s industrial memory and the theoretical framework of Terrain Vague, the design reclaims the in-between condition of the post-industrial landscape and activates it with new spatial narratives.

The idea of Dynamic Space emerged from the need to create an adaptable framework rather than a fixed form. It is rooted in the belief that architecture should respond to changing community needs over time. By incorporating modular grids, movable walls, and overlapping programs, the space resists singular definition—allowing users to reshape its function and meaning through daily inhabitation, negotiation, and collective authorship.

The intervention consists of two main elements: the adaptive reuse of the historic brick warehouse and a new timber structure forming from the old grid. A modular system is applied in both—embedded gently in the old building as flexible programmatic “boxes” that respect and contrast the existing shell, and fully expressed in the new construction to allow community-driven spatial transformation.

The space serves as a community “living room,” hosting exhibitions, performances, co-working, and daycare. Architectural devices such as a diagonal ramp, double-height volumes, movable partitions, and suspended installations emphasize spatial flexibility, porosity, and layered engagement.

The Dwellers of Väikese Rannavärava proposes a new kind of urban ecosystem within Tallinn’s Old Town—one that promotes coexistence among diverse groups by creating a system of shared resources and unique contributions. The project offers what is currently missing in the area: a cohesive, resilient neighbourhood. Through the adaptive transformation of the Väikese Rannavärava Bastion, this intervention integrates everyday life with privatized activities, revitalizing both the space and its community.

While the site was selected based on a threshold analysis that revealed a clear physical and symbolic separation from the Old Town, the design response—puncturing the site into smaller, human-scaled elements and the creation of a public square—respond directly to this condition.

I also acknowledge the ongoing debate about preserving Tallinn’s historical appearance. But, as Alatalu states, “today’s creation is tomorrow’s heritage.” I believe that new interventions—if done with sensitivity, clarity, and care—can enrich heritage rather than diminish it. The Dwellers of Väikese Rannavärava is my contribution to that evolving dialogue.

Set in the heart of Tallinn, this project addresses the challenges of spatial uniformity and the disconnection between public and private realms at the urban scale. It proposes a new framework for mixed-use development that reimagines housing as a dynamic, layered system that moves beyond the generic. At the base of the project lies a transparent urban hall: a column-free space formed by a waffle structure. This area acts as a public living room for the city, offering openness and a sense of collective ownership. It accommodates community functions, small-scale commerce, and flexible programs that invite constant reactivation by the surrounding neighborhood. Above, a green landscape - the “petri dish” - serves not only as a shared space for recreation and reflection but also as a spatial and social mediator. Rising from this platform are tree-like structural cores that support cantilevered housing units while preserving the ground level for shared use. The varied massing and fragmented volumes prevent the formation of monolithic blocks, allowing light, air, and people to flow between spaces.

The dissertation considers attitudes regarding how the architect might begin. The notion of beginning, or finding the means to a beginning, is contingent upon that which presents itself to the architect upon a first encounter. Examinations of urban conditions reveal ideologies and intentions directed towards shaping subjectivities. They also reveal the cultural specificity of appearances, which, as outward manifestations of intent, are utterances, like those of language: imperfect representations of ideas. The central part of the work concerns the approach to the artefact, and proposes a reconciliation between phenomenology and material culture, through consideration of the presence of representation. I contend that appearances are representation’s threshold, which, through acute attention, yields access to their essential nature, and to the real. The meeting with the real demands the architect’s suspension of impulse to projection, replacing it with something closer to empathy....

This is a story about an archive that could sit in the heart of Appingedam, Groningen, commemorating two diasporic cultures which, against all the odds, found refuge in this quiet, mediaeval city.

The first Ashkenazi Jewish population saw its birth in Appingedam, Groningen in the early 17th century. Despite centuries of difficulties the community flourished in this small rural city for centuries until it was all but eliminated in the 1940s, starting with their forceful eviction to the Dutch concentration/transit camp Westerbork. My grandmother is the last survivor of this community.

After the war, Kamp Westerbork - renamed Schattenberg - saw the arrival of a new community, the Moluccans. Intended to be a temporary stay whilst the Dutch negotiated their independence as a state from Indonesia, the years saw little progress as it became evident that this temporary stay was quickly becoming permanent. In 1960 it was proclaimed that the Moluccan community would be rehoused permanently across the province of Groningen, with the first city of permanent dwelling being Appingedam. A city which can be walked across in 25 minutes now bore witness to the birth of two significant communities within the Netherlands, centuries apart. Although there could never have been any crossover (one community terminated prior to the other starting) this is the story of how to analyse the intrinsically spiritual connections between two vastly different communities, and how a new syncretic direction for commemoration - one the focuses on the power of a multiplicity of memory rather than the privacy and exclusivity of a single collective remembrance - can be brought forward.

The sauna in Estonian culture is seen as a necessity of life, an instinct. It is the biggest social network in Estonia and the oldest. The sauna is a place where Estonian people meet, reconnect, and share on a physical and spiritual level. By being naked in this heat, one re-experiences its body, to reconnect the physical, mental, and spiritual relationship with one-self, others, and nature.

Whereas gentrification is on the rise in the Kopli area it is important to create spaces where local people can meet, socialize, relax and thrive in there neighborhood. To have a space where they feel connected with themselves, the sea, nature, and their surroundings. The chosen location near the sea has the possibility of connecting people and water. People need each other and nature to thrive.

The site-specific design of these four buildings allows the people of Tallinn to reconnect with themselves, each other, and nature in a mental, physical and spiritual way. The saunas and its buildings function as a place of sensorial reconnection, through materials, nature, and social facilities.

My project is a tourist center located in the Tallinn harbor area. Its functions include tourist guidance, exhibitions, and a bus station. Through this project, I aim to provide tourists with a
deeper understanding and appreciation of the city. Additionally, besides serving tourists, it offers a comfortable public space for the surrounding urban environment, enhancing the connection with nearby areas.

It is designed to be a transitional space within the urban environment and the first impression visitors have of the city. Therefore, I have paid special attention to the connection between the
interior and exterior environments of the building. The center utilizes Estonia's most iconic wood
and recycled limestone, integrating them with the existing limestone walls on the site. My hope is
for it to become a window through which people can learn about the city.

The Mustakivi Art Museum serves as a cultural bridge, reestablishing the connection between the Lasnamäe district and Tallinn's city center. The museum, inspired by 'The Atmosphere of Silence,' aims to provide a refuge/ healing environment from the outside world. The definition of silence in this project refers to one's ability to listen inwards, experience inner peacefulness, and relish meaningful moments in the present. Emphasizing natural elements, especially water, as the medium to foster 'silence', the museum features spaces designed for both community gathering and solitary healing. Besides integrating water features, the building design, including façade decision, skylight integration, and the positioning of spaces above or underground, employs different levels of transparency to control the inclusion or exclusion of views, thereby shaping the interior atmosphere and user experience.

Responding to its location in the heart of the Mustakivi subdistrict in Lasnamäe and acknowledging the district's Soviet historical background, the Mustakivi Art Museum, as a new proposal, significantly enhances the existing site condition. Addressing the cultural gap left by the Soviet planning era, the art museum fills the void of cultural amenities in the area. It revitalizes public spaces on site and enriches residents' daily experiences by injecting new vibrancy into the urban fabric.

P5 presentation of Hadassah Fidder in the studio of Methods of Analysis and Imagination.

My project is an adaptive reuse architectural project of an existing warehouse supermarket into a film production house sited in Lasnamäe, the Soviet built district of Tallinn, Estonia. The design encompasses all programs necessary for the complete film making process, including a 2164 sq.m soundstage with a clear height of 14m. Besides being an infrastructure, one third of the building area is dedicated to the public with programs such as a winter garden, exhibition spaces, café and restaurant. The Southern façade of the building also acts as a cinema screen for a drive-in theatre in its expansive car parking area.

This project investigated ways to reinvent and reinsert value into functionless, unimportant objects and places. The site chosen - Maleva Quarter, was formerly a brick manufacturing facility that was part of the Soviet military production ecosystem in Kopli. After Estonia’s independence, the factory facilities were fragmented and left behind as a collection of odd spaces. Thus, a recycled brick factory was proposed to reintroduce the material flows that existed in the past and insert relevance to the surrounding fringe spaces.

The methodology utilised was urban mining, which involves reclaiming construction waste and turning it into productive architectural components. The design exploration was centred around available materials in the area, resulting in a material-focused design, much like spolia - where the structure of old buildings drives the project’s visual and structural expression. Four building strategies were outlined depending on the structural systems of the existing buildings, the desired spatial quality and the characteristics of waste materials catalogued.

In conclusion, this project aims to encourage a more sustainable and resource-efficient practice in architecture amidst the depletion of building resources. Adopting this mindset could lead to more resilient and adaptive urban environments that honour their past while innovatively preparing for the future.

An architectural exploration set in Tallinn, the capital city of Estonia, on how to develop a vacant- and unfinished concrete structure in a cooperative and bottom-up way into a mixed-use living environment that provides people and their communities with more agency to shape their physical environment and their lives. Distilling principles for agency from research through reading and writing, analysing precedents and doing design research resulting in the design of an incremental-, modular-, flexible- and self-built system that facilitates the infill of the failed Porto Franco development at the harbour of Tallinn. Supposed to be 150.000 m² commercial space but has never finished because of a corruption scandal over which the government fell and the prime minister had to step down. Leaving the city with an unfinished- and unused space and an opportunity to redefine the role of the architect and the way in which we develop the environment around us.

This graduation project for the studio "A Matter of Scale" at the Technical University of Delft addresses an architectural intervention in Tallinn's coastal zone, focusing on the ruins of the Pirita Convent. Established by St. Bridget’s Rule merchants, the Gothic-style convent operated from 1407 to 1575 before being destroyed. Today, it serves as a tourist site and event venue, necessitating temporary structures for functionality. This project proposes a sensitive, year-round architectural intervention that respects the historical elements while introducing a community music school and event space.

Four key themes guided the design process: historical connection, spatial organisation, sensory experience, and local (natural) materials. Historical research informed the layout, proportions, and functions of new additions, preserving the convent's essence while incorporating contemporary elements. Spatial organisation considered visitor flow and accessibility, ensuring logical routing and wheelchair access. Sensory experience focused on sight, sound, and touch, maintaining the visual prominence of the ruins, optimizing acoustics for the music school, and preserving the limestone's texture. Local natural materials were prioritized to minimize environmental impact and support the local economy, while also following the original St. Bridget Rules.

The project illustrates integrating ruins with new structures, balancing preservation and modern use, and offers a practical example for similar historical sites. By engaging with Tallinn's community and stakeholders, this design aims to enhance the cultural and functional value of the Pirita Convent, presenting a vision for its potential as a year-round public space.

This project is an attempt to create an urban condenser that will utilize the concept of food, to bring back the lost connection between two residential areas Kalamaja and Pelgulinn, in Tallinn. People become familiar with all the stages of food production, from planting to cooking and from consuming to recycling and reusing the left-over materials. Food is used as a cultural carrier that has the power to tell a story about the history of a country. In my case, a culinary school is incorporated in a public building and a restaurant that through its recipes and materials tells the story of Kalamaja, opens the school to the public and connects the people and their surroundings. I try to zone my design in private classes that is followed up by a mixed-use space were students interact with visitors during the process of learning and cooking. The facade forms a public "skin" that wraps around the main building which extends to bridges that run from Kalamaja to Pelgulinn. The building forms a metaphor for the old bridge that used to connect those areas and keeps the memory alive for the locals. Parts of the floor and a blind wall are composed by bricks found in ruins around the area to give the sense of layered time (old materials and new) on the thresholds found around the building.

Al Wehdat Camp, like all Palestinian refugee camps, was built in response to Al Nakba, as a space of temporary refuge to generations of Palestinian refugees who were uprooted from their homes. In this research, I conceptualized home as a multi-scalar territory that exists in different places, in different time intervals, all at once, through a spatio-temporal simultaneity that produces Al Wehdat Camp as a transient territory, that exists here and there, now and then, at home and in exile. Through the different chapters of this dissertation, I studied those different scales of home, the home-land, the home-city, the home-camp and the home-home, through an interdisciplinary research approach and framework that were built around three pillars: the body, movement, and territory. In my research, I studied a number of paths of displacement that the Palestinian refugees have traveled across during their uprooting from Palestine, mapping their movement to get to Al Wehdat Camp. Through that tracing of the different paths, I was able to conceptualize the camp as a point that exists at the intersection of a number of paths that have led the Palestinian refugees to the camp and also allowed them to move past it to different locations within the city. That continuous movement of displaced bodies from Palestine to Jordan have allowed the Palestinian refugees to transgress the colonial borders that has disconnected them from the space of the home-land, and allowed them to reproduce the space of Palestine in Al Wehdat Camp.

This research addresses how different ways of making entail different ways of knowing,
exploring how material production and knowledge intersect and inform one another. Specifically,
it investigates the knowledge within crafts — examining how skill is developed in the way
craftspeople work – and hypothesises that the material and social conditions surrounding craft
practice produce a specific rationality: a process-oriented way of knowing. These considerations
are brought together in a theory of knowledge in the material productions – an epistemology of
making – whose tenets are subsequentially tested within the field of architecture. Through this
set of conceptual and theoretical tools, the research thus analyses the dynamics of knowing
and making in architecture. Ultimately, this study reflects on the implications of approaching
architecture from the vantage point of its production, offering valuable insights into the dialectics
of design and construction.

The project takes its basis in a concern for the future liveability of European cities in regard to public space, public buildings, and public life, looking specifically at the capital city of Budapest in Hungary. Studying internal migration patterns within Hungary, it is clear that while the Budapest conglomerate region have grown in population over the last 30 years, there has been a negative net migration to the Budapest inner city. The urban population is choosing to a larger degree to move to village suburbs in the conglomerate region, mainly due to the access to nature and recreational space that these places offer, suggesting that the city is failing to supply an attractive alternative for the local living environment of the inner city. Though large efforts and funds are already dedicated to address this, my research and design questions the impact current developments in the city have on the perceived recreational value of the living environment within the local city block. The project investigates the core concept of “publicness” and the separation of public and private realms, aiming to challenge the ways public space and public buildings are configured and realized.

The investigation resulted in a design for a multifunctional building and an urban green strategy which aims at addressing the “everyday” aspects of public space and public lives. The focus lies on ways in which public buildings to a larger degree can offer spaces for everyday activities rather than curated experiences and ways which these spaces can become appropriable for users to utilise as they please and in the ways they see fit. The specific mixite of functions and the configuration of program around loosely programmed “in-between” spaces has been crucial to achieve a degree of ambiguity in terms of use and purpose of space, something which becomes a driver for appropriability and the perception of public space as an extension of the private living sphere.

The architecture of Tbilisi, specifically, the domestic vernacular dwellings mostly found in the old town, have seen various transformations over time initiated by different actors, usually by inhabitants themselves. This could be seen as non-architectural architecture or the architecture after architecture. Be it a rotten railing of the staircase tightly secured with a cut wire, or even a dilapidated frontal part of a facade supported by a couple of wooden planks as not to fall down - these interventions are important elements of the city’s visual identity. However, vernacular architecture in Tbilisi with all creative transformations is currently collapsing because of the lack of attention given to it. Therefore, this work concentrates on extracting the values of this fragile layer and applying them to the architecture itself in order to diversify the current build environment and its processes for a more holistic approach.