The power of reimagining–and reenergizing–community spaces

2023 Impact Grant recipients, Espacio Común, tell us about the ways in which Peru’s capital, Lima, and its resilient communities inspired their co-production-first approach to architecture.

Cofounders Paula Villar Pastor and Daniel Canchán Zúñiga work alongside community groups in the city, and more recently in Peru’s Amazon regions, to create playful, useful, and rewarding spaces for residents.

How and when did Espacio Común get started, and how did the two of you decide to take this exciting path, rather than pursuing a more ‘traditional’ approach to architectural practice?

Espacio Común officially started at the end of 2020, just after the pandemic, but we had already been developing public space and community facility projects for several years before that, particularly in busy neighborhoods of Lima.

[Daniel Canchán Zúñiga] In my case, I was working in a conventional architectural practice, but I felt I had reached a personal limit. I wanted to explore other routes within architecture, to find something that made more sense alongside my interests. I had always been connected to neighborhoods, the periphery of Lima in particular, and was convinced that there was much work to be done there as an architect. That’s how I began to get more directly involved.

[Paula Villar Pastor] I’m Spanish and I came to Lima in 2015 for an academic exchange and to do my final degree project. Here, I discovered self-built neighborhoods, women’s organizations, and architecture collectives working with communities through different methodologies. I felt I was where I was needed and that what we were doing had meaning beyond architecture itself. All of that made me decide to stay.

Between 2016 and 2019, we formed an organization called Coordinadora de la Ciudad (en Construcción), which was a key learning space, both in practice and in theory. We developed many projects in Lima with participatory methodologies, and through that process we defined a clear position on the role of the architect in the city.
After the pandemic, in 2020–2021, we decided to found Espacio Común and continue to develop that line of work, also expanding it toward the Peruvian Amazon.

Your work focuses on creative ways of defending urban spaces, creating environments where play and community can flourish. What does this work look like in practice?

We always work toward architecture that’s not just a physical or decorative object, but an active space. We believe it’s essential to encourage people to take ownership of spaces, to be able to transform them, intervene in them, and make them their own. Only then can the urban life that we want to promote truly flourish.

We have worked a lot with children and the idea of play. In our cities—and particularly in Lima—the idea of play in public space is not very present. It’s often thought that children should only play in clearly defined spaces, almost as if they do not have the right to experience the [rest of the] city. But for us, it is important that design allows not only children, but also adults, to reclaim the city in a playful way.
One example of this was a project we did in a peripheral neighborhood of Lima, where a wall was left standing after a failed attempt to invade a public space. Over several days of community work, construction–making holes in some parts of the wall and adding certain elements–we managed to transform a dirty and dangerous space into a lively place for play and gathering.

Your work seems to sit at an exciting meeting point of urban-planning, architecture, community work, youth programming… It must be a very rewarding space to work in, where you can immediately see the impact you have on those you work with?

Absolutely. Although for us, the process that leads to a design or to the final intervention is just as relevant as the outcome itself. It’s not just about the beautiful final photo, but everything that leads up to that point too.
We always try to work hand in hand with communities, women’s groups or neighborhood arts collectives. We don’t arrive with the intention of imposing something, rather we seek to join in with what is already happening. Sometimes this means helping to channel, strengthen, or make visible processes that already exist. We want to become part of initiatives that come from the people themselves.

Participation is not simply about doing a couple of workshops with the community, going away to design something, and then coming back with a set proposal. We try to make it a broader, longer, and more careful process. Participation is not a stage of the project, but the backbone.
That’s why, when the architectural project is “delivered,” in reality, another stage begins: that of use and real appropriation. For that use to be lively, autonomous, and sustained, it is essential that the design process has been shared from the very beginning with those who will inhabit the space.

In our practice, we incorporate tools that come not only from architecture, but also from anthropology and art. We use participant observation, in-depth interviews, and exercises that help us better understand the social context [of these projects]. We have recently explored the use of film and audiovisual recording, so that people can represent their daily lives in urban spaces. We work a lot with hands-on activities: making models or drawings with children and adults. In the process of building together, a lot is learned.
Ultimately, all this means our presence is not sporadic; we try to be present for the whole project process, activating collective memory, emotions, and ideas about space. This ensures that a real and ongoing exchange is created.
We see these projects as a form of co-production: we provide spatial support so that existing social dynamics are strengthened, or so that new ones can emerge organically.

How has Lima shaped your approach to your work?

Lima is the place where we learned almost everything we know about developing projects with this approach. It is a city that is mostly self-built and self-managed. It is estimated that 70% of Lima is informally created, which has meant that many communities and organizations have had to come together to build their own city from scratch.
We’ve always been inspired by how people organize themselves in order to push their neighborhoods forward, not only from the social side but also from the physical. They build, produce, and design their spaces without architects. That way of working, with few resources but a lot of organization, is a constant point of reference for us.

Lima is a city that is built progressively, in stages as resources become available. That rhythm, which is not immediate but long-term, has served as a model for how we think about our own projects: processes that advance step by step, in an open and flexible way, allowing people to make decisions, get involved, learn and make the projects their own.
Although Lima is chaotic and unequal, what stands out for us within that chaos is the drive of the people when it comes to building a more livable city.

Recently you organised Munyana Fest, far from Lima, can you tell us more about that?

At the end of 2023, together with a group of filmmaker and audiovisual friends who had been working for a long time in the Amazon, especially in Iquitos, we started talking about how to connect film and architecture. They had already organized a small floating film event years ago and that’s how the idea of scaling it up emerged… A floating film festival focused on jungles around the world, set in this unique neighborhood called Belén, a floating neighborhood, where life revolves around water, and that completely transforms the way you build, move, play, and exist.

We began to connect with Iquitos and Belén in a deeper and more sustained way, not just as visitors but with a clear intention of working together [with the community]. Designing and building the main floating stage for the festival was a significant shift in our practice. It made us rethink many things we took for granted, from architectural and construction techniques to the relationship between body and space.

The festival was a wonderful excuse to enter into dialogue with this neighborhood, its rhythms, its challenges, and its creativity. New connections emerged, and today we are working not only in Belén but also on other projects in Iquitos. Thanks to Muyuna Fest, our work has expanded and we now live between Lima and Iquitos, developing projects that follow the same logic of participation, adaptation, and mutual learning.

How has The Supporting Act Foundation grant changed things for you?

If we had to point to one specific area, we’d say it allowed us some stability, which is no small thing for tiny organizations like ours. It gave us peace of mind which even affected our mental health: knowing that there was steady income, even if the amount was modest, allowed us to concentrate on what we really wanted to do, devoting time to projects we truly care about, without the constant pressure to accept any commission just to survive.

It gave us the space to think about where we wanted to go with Espacio Común, to review our approach, explore new lines of work, and strengthen the more reflective side of our practice.

It allowed us to connect with artists from different disciplines, and to discover new territories like Iquitos, and build new alliances.

What’s next?

We’d like to continue exploring different territories in Peru. We’re starting to work in the Loreto region of the Amazon jungle and want to consolidate more initiatives in Lima and hopefully start working in Andean regions of our country.

Where would you like to be in five years’ time?

We are very interested in having a presence in different contexts, always connected to topics like urban space, play, work with women, and childhood, whether in popular neighborhoods of the city or in Amazonian communities. If in five years we are developing projects simultaneously in several parts of the country, that would make us very happy.

As for how we hope society will think about urban space… in Peru, we are still far from having a long-term vision. In cities like Lima, highways and cars are prioritized, and quality public spaces exist only in privileged areas.

We believe it is urgent to put the topic of urban space on the table and understand that design and architecture can contribute greatly to a fairer city. The work of the architect should not be limited to benefiting those who can pay for a private service, but should also serve communities that have a lot to say but few tools to make things happen.