Winner of Excellence Award from the Cultural Buildings Category, Fernand Menis

Hosted by NPO Aoyama Design Forum(ADF), the "ADF Design Award 2025" has chosen Fernand Menis's work as the Excellence Award in the Cultural Buildings Category. Here is an interview article with Menis (Fernando Menis Architect) to introduce the award-winning work and the story behind the designing process.

フェルナンド・メニス / Fernando Menis ©Bartek Barczyk

Could you tell us about your background as an architect?

I began studying architecture at the University of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, Canary Islands, where I first came into contact with the work of the Spanish artist César Manrique. His ability for transforming seemingly desolate areas into meaningful places have influenced me and continue to inspire my architectural approach. Through his example, I gained a deeper understanding of the importance of considering the context and unique characteristics of each place when intervening in it. Early in my career, I decided that architecture should be sensitive to the context in which it is embedded.

Later, at the Barcelona School of Architecture, where I continued my studies, I absorbed the legacy of the great architects—Mies, Aalto, Coderch, Le Corbusier—and immersed myself in the spirit of rational and constructive architecture that characterized the Catalan school. I later moved to Paris, where I began collaborating with Ricardo Bofill’s studio. Living near the Centre Pompidou, I frequently visited its exhibitions, and it was in one of them, titled Paris-Moscow, that I delved into Kandinsky's work. Through his compositions, I opened my eyes and mind to geometric freedom.

In 1984, in Tenerife, concerns among experts about the health of the Drago Milenario of Icod de los Vinos—an emblematic specimen—led to an international competition seeking solutions for its preservation. Returning to the islands as a young architect who had traveled the world, I rediscovered its extraordinary nature with fresh eyes and also recognized its fragility. At a time when terms like "biodiversity" and "re-naturalization" were not yet common in discussions, I saw the Drago competition as an opportunity to restore nature to its original splendor before it was affected by urban growth. Together with my partners at the time, we won the competition and began working, under the guidance of the Spanish biologist Wolfredo Wildpret, on regenerating the natural habitat of the ancient tree.

Forty years have passed since that moment, and while those four decades have been just an instant in the life of the Drago Milenario, for me, they have been an entire lifetime and a defining constant in my professional career. The Drago marked the beginning of a journey in which I have advocated for a respectful coexistence with nature through architecture. My entire career has been built around natural energy, circularity, expressive form and material innovation. By collaborating with the forces of nature—light, wind, water, and earth—I strive to design spaces that respect both nature and people.

Are there any specific areas or phases of architecture that you specialize in?

We work in architecture and design across all phases, scales and typologies, from regenerative projects and urban public spaces (El Drago Park, El Tanque Garden, the Spree Floating Pool in Berlin) to institutional buildings (Headquarters of the Presidency of the Canary Islands Government in Tenerife, Essential Services Buildings of the Canaries), cultural buildings (CKK Jordanki in Poland, Magma Art & Congress), sports facilities (Tenerife Athletics Stadium), unifamiliar and collective housing and even object design, such as a ring made of concrete or decorative acoustic frames made from natural materials like volcanic ash, or furniture crafted from reclaimed industrial elements.

When generating ideas, do you draw inspiration from certain sources? Do you have any unique methods for organizing your thoughts?

The context in which I work is my primary source of inspiration and information: nature, the setting, and the evolution of its urban development over time; its architectural history; local construction traditions, local materials, colors, and textures; as well as the economic and social dynamics of the place in relation to the global context. A building results from multiple factors: the client’s brief, their needs, the local and global context, our speculations about the future, my own expectations, and cultural background, among others. I try to absorb as many insights as possible, cultivating awareness and developing a specific approach for each building and place.

I believe my approach to architecture is deeply personal, making it difficult to fully standardize into a method. However, over 45 years as an architect, I have distilled my understanding of integrating natural forces into architectural design into a series of transferable design and work processes. I strive to pass these on to my project team, architects, and interns by working closely with them and involving them in every stage of the project- from inception to construction- as well as through workshops and research. I call this system Hatching (Eclosión in Spanish), a theoretical framework shaped by intuition, experimentation, and tested solutions. It aligns with sustainable anthropization, promoting architectural interventions that harness natural forces to create harmony between nature and the built environment while preserving and enhancing the uniqueness of each place.

Are there any creative fields outside of architecture that interest you? If so, do you incorporate them into your architectural work?

Art in all its forms is a constant source of inspiration. Music, however, is more than that—it sparked my interest in acoustics and sound control, ultimately leading me to dedicate my PhD thesis to acoustics in architectural design.

Can you share the background of your award-winning work and how it came to fruition?

The Church of the Holy Redeemer of Las Chumberas in Tenerife is dedicated to the Resurrection, a fundamental episode in Catholicism, which shaped both its design and materiality. Large concrete volumes and natural light symbolize the cave where Jesus was buried, creating an austere space that reflects the simplicity of his life.

ラス・チュンベラスのホーリー・レディーマー教会＆コミュニティセンター / The Holy Redeemer Church and Community Centre of Las Chumberas ©Roland Halbe

©Roland Halbe

The church took over fifteen years to build - a long construction period, common in the history of our churches. The process paralleled the transformation of the 1970s Las Chumberas neighborhood where it's set. Supported by the Bishopric of Tenerife, the owner of the building, we envisioned the church as a catalyst for urban renewal, giving this peripheral and overlooked area of Tenerife its own identity and serving as a reference within a confusing urban fabric. The compound includes the church, a parish center, and a public square, surrounded by greenery, providing a much-needed social space.

ラス・チュンベラスのホーリー・レディーマー教会＆コミュニティセンター / The Holy Redeemer Church and Community Centre of Las Chumberas ©Hisao Suzuki

©Hisao Suzuki

©Hisao Suzuki

©Simona Rota

©Simona Rota

A testament to collective effort, the project was funded through donations from locals, the religious community, and local businesses. This uneven flow of funding dictated the construction logic, leading to a phased execution with four independent modules. Thus the design was conceived to allow for gradual development, ensuring that each completed phase was functional.The most urgent section—the parish center, housing essential social programs—was prioritized and completed in 2008, while funds were raised for the rest of the project.

©Roland Halbe

The building, echoing Tenerife’s volcanic landscape, consists of massive concrete volumes resembling rocks. The rough concrete contrasts sharply with the surrounding structures, evoking a geological event that challenges the area's conventional architecture. Narrow fissures between the solid forms, filled with sculptural metal and glass, allow daylight to filter through, enhancing the minimalist and spiritual atmosphere. The illumination highlights key moments of the day, symbolizing the Christian sacraments.

We used concrete for nearly everything—exterior, interior, structure, form, material, and texture. Beyond its structural role, its durability and accessibility (we are on an island where stones and concrete are the most accessible building materials) we explored its acoustic potential, combining exposed concrete with porous volcanic stones and employing various surface treatments and texturing techniques. The resulting acoustics resemble those of an opera house, making the space ideal for both ecclesiastical functions and community gatherings.

What kind of work do you hope to create in the future?

At the beginning of my career, I worked extensively on collective housing projects but later shifted my focus more to cultural and institutional buildings, as well as public spaces. I would like to design more housing. I am also interested in building a high-rise—we have designed several but have yet to construct one, and I believe I can bring value to this typology.

What are your thoughts on the ADF Award?

We live in an increasingly built and human-altered world, and we must develop a critical perspective on our surroundings—our cities, streets, and urban environments. The architecture prizes recognize good practices and exemplary works, inspiring both professionals and emerging architects while also educating non-professionals. They help people become more critical and selective about what shapes our cities, homes, buildings, and public spaces.

From this perspective, I congratulate ADF on your contribution to identifying and rewarding architecture. It is a valuable way to support the collective effort of improving our world.