Among the projects of T.ZED Architects are KOA Canvas, NASAB co-working space, The MUSE hotel, Japanese restaurants, and much more. Tarik Zaharna, its founder, encapsulates their approach in four words: exploration, sensitivity, playfulness, and timelessness. Why? Discover in this interview.
Additionally, delve into the origins of Tarik's architectural journey (hint: check the header) and observe firsthand how he tackles architectural challenges, right here, right now.
— Tarik, let’s start with a bit of personal information. Where are you from?
— I have a Palestinian heritage. I was born in Saudi Arabia to Palestinian parents, but I grew up in Luxembourg.
— My dad works in medicine, and his business contacts decided to establish a company in Luxembourg. So, we relocated there. Some people can call it boring and finance-oriented, but I had a fantastic childhood and early teens there. Riding bikes, constructing treehouses, and exploring forests — it was the perfect conditions for a child to grow up in.
At 16, I was sent to a boarding school in Lebanon, where I learned most of my Arabic. It was my first experience with almost complete isolation from home. There was not only a time difference but a cultural difference between Luxembourg and Lebanon, too. And I think, probably, that was the beginning of the shift of my mindset — one of constant exploration and embracing new opportunities.
From there, I knew I wanted to be back in Europe, so I applied to universities in London and eventually graduated from UCL, the Bartlett School of Architecture.
After that, my career took off. I worked briefly in Germany for Bolles+Wilson and in New York for Urban A&O before returning to London. While I enjoyed my life there, I decided to visit Dubai for Christmas, and the difference in atmosphere between London's cold, rainy December and Dubai's sunny beaches was striking.
Returning to London, I realised my heart was still in the city. However, a friend approached me to help design a new space he was building in Dubai. That project opened doors to others, and suddenly, I found myself transitioning my life from London to Dubai. Almost 15 years later, I have no regrets about making the move.
— Your father was involved in medicine. Was he a doctor?
— No, essentially, he was a wholesaler of medical equipment and supplies from Europe across the Middle East, so it was more the business and distribution side of things.
— Did he want you to repeat his path and pursue a career in medicine?
— No, he didn't. But he just said one thing after I graduated and had been practising for about 10 years: “If you had asked for my opinion, I would have advised you not to become an architect.” I thought, “Okay, maybe you should have given me your opinion 10 years earlier?” But no, he never did. I think my parents were very good at that, just letting people pursue what they felt most inclined to do. I have two sisters and one brother, and we all do very different things.
— My sister is in Switzerland, working in finance. My younger sister is a swimming coach and a nutritionist, even though she started off in politics and HR. My brother is in Dubai, working for a company that assists people in setting up their businesses and handles the administrative side of things.
— Once you mentioned that your journey in architecture began with building tree houses. You must have some stories to share!
— We grew up in a town called Senningerberg in Luxembourg, and our house was almost back-to-back with a natural forest. We could simply hop on our bicycles and be in the forest in no time. Different groups of kids would gather to play together, often dividing into older kids versus us in various games like football, bike racing, skateboarding, or street hockey. Once, we decided to create our own base, our own headquarters as a group.
We would go into the forest and set up stones in a circle, sometimes even having a fire, though it wasn't entirely legal. Eventually, we slowly started to have an idea of constructing elevated tree houses, using two or three trees and creating projected structures tied onto them. It sparked a sense of exploration and adventure as we rode our bicycles down to the next village to buy screws, nails, tools, and equipment from the hardware store, then cycled back up.
There was a rebellious side to our endeavours, too. If we were missing any tools, some minor stuff,… I don’t know if I should say this…, but we would sometimes "borrow" them from construction sites, scavenging for additional foundation materials or supporting ropes. We would lock the entrance to our treehouses, but the older guys would sometimes break in, using them for their own purposes. We would make them more secure or build new ones elsewhere if necessary.
Occasionally, builders would discover their tools and equipment in the forest, leading to nighttime battles as they took our tools, and we retrieved them the next day. Despite the challenges, it was a thrilling adventure that allowed me to approach architecture as a playful and adventurous pursuit. Therefore, it had a positive impact on my mindset. I found myself excelling at building, and I felt confident in my ability to draw plans for our constructions. It just felt like the natural thing to do.
— By the way, did you like Lego?
— I did. I used to play a lot with Lego. I enjoyed anything that allowed me to build and stack, as well as create movable structures. It was all very interesting and enjoyable to me.
— I am just thinking from the perspective of an ordinary person who uses buildings rather than builds them. When something breaks in a building or a disaster occurs, whose responsibility is it?
— It really depends. This is something that is constantly challenged, especially in Dubai. For instance, when it rains, some buildings start to leak. When that happens, you begin to trace back the issue to its source. And it depends on the scope of work that the architect has been appointed for. If the architect has only completed the concept phase without producing detailed construction drawings, then they can't guarantee waterproofing in this specific case. So, in such cases, the responsibility shifts to the contractor and detailing team.
However, there are some things that are essentially design flaws. For example, if there is a layout with a door that slams open or closes into another door, it is the architect's fault for misplacing the doors. Or if the room doesn't get any natural light, that is the architect's fault. So it depends on the nature of the project, but it also depends on the responsibilities that were allocated at the beginning of the project appointment.
— Are there any projects that you will never work on? I don’t know, maybe, very big buildings or very small ones.
— I think that any project that we take on must be cared about and we must be passionate about. We can't keep repeating the same processes because it leads to losing that passion. I love to design hotels, museums, galleries, and cultural buildings in general.
In our practice, we have encountered unfortunate situations where we lack control over critical aspects of the project. This lack of control can stem from various reasons, such as budget constraints, client preferences for specific contractors, or compromises in our design due to client input.
When we give too much control to the client or deviate from our original vision, the purity of our design and research becomes diluted. This often results in less satisfactory architectural outcomes, leaving both the client and us dissatisfied.
Moreover, seeing a project that we are not proud of after investing so much effort and thought into it is disheartening. As a result, we have implemented a strict policy in our practice — we stick to our principles and approach, and if clients don't align with our vision, then we are not the right fit for them. This decision comes with its challenges, especially for a commercial practice like ours with a team of 15 people. However, maintaining our integrity and ensuring we are proud of our work is paramount, even if it means turning down certain projects.
— Once, you told that your dream project is to design a museum. Have you been involved in designing museums since then?
— We have been approached to design concepts for a couple of museums. Unfortunately, they haven't progressed beyond the concept stage as they were primarily for feasibility studies. However, I firmly believe that cultural buildings, in general, are vital contributions to our society and serve as a lasting legacy.
A client-turned-friend once shared valuable insight with me. He is a highly successful businessman, and he said, “You always have to think about what you want your legacy to be.” In moments of self-doubt, this is a good compass to start following. It helps put things into perspective and provides a sense of ease.
I haven't fully realised my legacy yet, but I trust in the timing. I believe that eventually, it will come, and the opportunity to create a truly impactful cultural building or museum will present itself. When we have gathered enough resources and expertise to execute such a project, it will be the right time to embark on that journey.
— Each artist thinks about the meanings they put in their works. What about you?
— Yeah, that is a great question. I think exploration is something that we definitely like to have in our work. Sensitivity as well. And playfulness, along with timelessness. Understanding that our spaces evolve over time in terms of their use and function is crucial. They need to be both utilised and enduring. Therefore, achieving timelessness in our designs is paramount.
— By sensitivity, do you mean paying attention to the feelings of the people who will be using it?
— Right. I think, and I am sure you will agree, that many people walk into spaces and experience architecture without being able to articulate why they like a space. You can't say, "I like the space because..." If we were discussing it as creatives or as people sensitive to it, we might mention things like textures, acoustics, lighting, and the flow of the space. These elements individually contribute to a successful space, but to the layperson, they simply feel comfortable and at ease. Actually, it is the accumulation of these little things that creates a space where people feel like they belong in. That is very interesting.
— What does your private space look like? I mean, your home.
— I always like my home to be a contrast to my office. My office is filled with materials, drawings, artwork, computers, and models — it is a workshop of ideas with lots of colour and a sense of discovery.
In contrast, the home where I feel comfortable is calming. It is filled with diffused natural light, as direct sunlight can be harsh on furniture and artwork (especially considering we live in Dubai.). I have adjusted the finishes and flooring to suit this environment. It is organised, clean, and always has a distinct smell, whether from a candle or incense stick. There is always calming music playing at the right level. Even my outfits are planned — I almost wear the same thing every day. It is a structured experience at home, a pleasant routine. It is a contrast to the chaos that is outside of the house.
— Some clients want everything to look perfect but don't want to spend much. Can you really make a space look great on a tight budget, or is it just wishful thinking?
— It really depends. If I were to open a restaurant or a cafe, I would choose a space that may be derelict or needs work and invest in good acoustic panels and lighting. In my experience, these two aspects are the most important for creating a successful space. Great acoustics ensure minimal noise reverberation and echo, making conversing and enjoying the atmosphere easier. Lighting is also crucial as it can transform a space and create the right ambience. Expensive materials or sound systems are not necessary if you start with good acoustics and lighting and then build from there. However, sometimes clients have grand visions for their space but don't have the budget to match. It is important to communicate the cost of creating their vision and ensure that their brief aligns with their budget.
— Okay, here is a task for an architect. Name three essential elements for a Japanese restaurant's design to evoke a comfortable and authentic Japanese atmosphere. Considering your experience designing Japanese restaurant space, what elements would you prioritise to immerse customers in the Japanese vibe as soon as they enter?
— In my opinion, materiality plays a crucial role. The appropriate levels of architectural lighting are also extremely important, especially considering factors like an open kitchen or a visible robata. However, this varies depending on the type of restaurant.
— Which light should it be?
— I think, for a Japanese restaurant, the focus should be on the food. Therefore, direct and focused lighting on the dining table and where the chef stands are key. Everything else should have dimmed, indirect lighting because it becomes secondary. However, if the goal is to highlight the space itself, then the lighting should be adjusted accordingly. When dining in a Japanese restaurant, it is essential to feel a connection with the natural surfaces or materials and to enjoy a focused dining experience. For a more social environment, even diffused lighting throughout is important. However, having a space with uniform lighting levels can make it less personal and disconnected, which may deter customers from returning.
— And the same question for co-working space.
— Designing co-working spaces isn't as easy as one might think. Co-working spaces should definitely involve different types of seating to accommodate various working styles. For example, sometimes you just want to have a quick sketch, Zoom call, or meeting, which requires high stool seating for a transactional experience. Whether sitting on a stool or standing near a high table, you can have a brief conversation lasting five to ten minutes.
Then, there is low-level seating for short-term work sessions where you can see and be seen. It is for those times when you don't want to spend hours working but just a couple of hours with your coffee or drink, doing your work, and expecting someone to join you or continue your day. These two types of seating are crucial.
Additionally, open-plan seating is essential, but it should be well-defined. You don't want to enter a space that feels like a sweatshop or factory due to its massive, undifferentiated co-working area. Having defined areas for open-plan working helps create a more comfortable environment.
Finally, it is extremely important to have a moment of quietness for taking phone calls or having focused online meetings. These elements, especially the diverse seating options, contribute to the effectiveness and comfort of a co-working space.
— What light should it be?
— It is tricky because designing for everyone's preferences is nearly impossible. In our office, for instance, we use a bright white light that can be dimmed around 4000 Kelvin, which simulates daylight and boosts productivity. However, in a co-working space, finding the right balance between an office-like environment and a comfortable homey feel is crucial. A warmer light around 3000 or 3500 Kelvin is ideal, creating a corporate yet inviting atmosphere for long working hours.
I have been into co-working spaces with adjacent acoustic cubicles and harsh white lighting, which I consider a significant design flaw. I prefer a more flexible approach, providing warm general lighting throughout the space and allowing people to adjust their lighting with task-focused options such as lamps or integrated desk lighting. This allows for creating personalised atmospheres and adjusting the ambience from day to night.
In a quiet room or zone, I have found it more successful not to introduce any electrical plugs. This prevents people from camping out all day with their laptops or phone chargers, keeping these spaces free and fluid. Instead, focus on warm lighting and ensure excellent acoustics to maintain a conducive environment for focused work without encouraging prolonged stays.
— I have a fun fact! In one office I saw a very interesting thing when you enter the toilet cabin, there was a thing, a shelf for your laptop. And there was a description: “Leave your laptop here if for some reason you took it with yourself.”
— Haha, that is amazing! It is a culture of being connected all the time. We were working on a hotel, and one of the requirements similar to that was in the toilet, we had to ensure that there was a shelf, not a traditional shelf, but just a flat tray, slightly larger than a phone. And it is like, why is this in the design brief? Well, you know, it is a place to put the phone down when you need it. Nowadays, everyone is constantly connected.
— Tarik, tell me, what projects are you working on now?
— We are working on a few projects across different sectors and different parts of the world. We are active in Saudi Arabia for some commercial and hospitality projects. In the UAE, we are working on private residences, mixed-use developments, and commercial blocks. It might sound a bit boring, but the brief and clients are interesting. The branded residences we're working on in Dubai are particularly quite interesting. We're creating a very activated ground floor to attract and draw people in with amenities like a deli and co-working space. As you move up the building, there are other social programs like yoga pavilions, multi-purpose rooms, gyms, swimming pools, etc. And then different residential offerings and a very interesting part of town, which is up and coming as well.
We are also working on a unique project, refurbishing some old buildings in Dubai from the late '70s, which is not typical as they are usually demolished and rebuilt.
Additionally, we are working on a boutique hotel in southern Italy, refurbishing and extending an existing masseria. It is a lot of interesting work!
The scale has grown, which I am conscious of, but it is exciting. However, applying the attention to detail typically given to small-scale projects to larger ones is something that sets us apart, I believe.
And I find that applying the attention to detail that is typically given to a small-scale project, but applying that to a larger project, is something that sets us apart.
— By the way, is T.ZED Architects a bureau, studio, or something else?
— I would say architectural practice. Although it also feels a bit too serious.