A FRANK CHAT WITH EDUARDO MEDIERO
Madrid-based architect, researcher and educator Eduardo Mediero is the founder of HANGHAR, a studio recognised by El País as one of Spain’s most relevant young practices and named Architectural Digest Best of Spain 2023.
He holds a Master’s in Architecture from Harvard GSD and a Master’s with Honours from the Polytechnic University of Madrid, and has taught at IE University, Harvard, Penn State, Michigan University and more. Eduardo’s work has received the Brick Award 2024, NEO2 Award 2024, AD100 (2024, 2023, 2022), FAD Awards 2022 and FRAME 2021’s Best Apartment of the Year. With HANGHAR, he explores architecture as an evolving, open-ended discipline rooted in material honesty and spatial intimacy.
You’ve spoken about reimagining how we live in and move through space. What draws you to question traditional ideas of the home?
The idea of home has always felt more like a question than a fixed answer. Traditional domestic models often prioritize efficiency or conformity over emotional nuance. I’m drawn to rethinking the home because I see it as a place where our inner and outer lives meet. By loosening the assumptions around what a home should be, we create space for how people actually feel: uncertain, evolving, sometimes messy. Architecture should allow for that kind of complexity.
You often use humble, industrial materials in elegant and unexpected ways. What do you find meaningful or beautiful in those choices?
There’s something deeply honest about materials that don’t pretend. I’m drawn to experimenting with elements that might not traditionally be associated with domestic settings such as concrete, steel or ceramic tile. These materials carry their own logic and beauty. The goal is not to follow what the market dictates but to reframe how and where these materials can live. I find it meaningful to explore their potential in residential spaces.
Many of your spaces feel like rooms within rooms – quiet, focused, almost meditative. Where does that sensibility come from?
Rooms are the most basic unit of architecture and yet they’re often taken for granted. For me, creating intimate, layered spaces is a way to carve out stillness and focus even in chaotic or dense environments. It is also a way of inviting attention. When a space becomes quieter, people begin to notice more. These moments of spatial intimacy form the foundation of our private world.
You’ve described architecture as something flexible and open-ended. How does that idea influence the way you design?
I see buildings as frameworks rather than finished statements. I’m interested in forms that allow for change, whether that means building less, designing for disassembly or creating spaces that can be reused or adapted over time. This kind of open-ended thinking pushes back against architectural ego and places value on longevity not as permanence but as relevance.
You’ve given your studio a 10-year lifespan. What does that time frame mean to you, creatively or personally?
It was a way to stay honest. Giving the studio a finite timeline makes me more intentional about the work I take on. It positions the practice as a chapter, not a fixed identity. It also creates space for endings, which I think are often undervalued in creative work. Sometimes something has to close in order for the next thing to begin, even if that next thing is still unknown.
What does responsibility in architecture mean to you? Is it about materials, people, context, or something else entirely?
Responsibility begins with listening, to the site, to the client, to context both cultural and ecological. It’s not about control but about reciprocity. Materials, people, ecosystems and time all carry weight. Responsible architecture doesn’t try to eliminate that weight. It tries to hold it, carefully and attentively.
Eduardo’s work challenges convention through its subtlety. From the way a material is chosen to how a space invites quiet, each project becomes a framework for change, reflection and care – both personal and architectural.