He is not interested in the arbitrariness of contemporary trends, preferring instead to turn to the inner truth

That is why I have chosen from among the recent production of Czech architecture an artist who stands out both for his subject matter, his approach and for the particular sensibility of his works. Marek Štěpán works together with his wife Vanda and collaborators in Atelier Štěpán, and together they have produced a large number of diverse works, both in scale and content. But he is best known for his sacred architecture, which he has been working on in depth for almost 30 years. He has developed a very subtle relationship with the subject, and has also developed a distinctive architectural expression through it, which can be traced from large churches to small designs and artistic objects. The architect consciously tries to create a bridge between tradition and modernity, not through various con- temporary trends, but by turning to the inner truth. Marek Štěpán is also a teacher at the Faculty of Architecture in Brno and the author of a manifesto on “decorstructuralism”. In 2016 he founded the Sacred Space Laboratory. Their daughter Magdalena Štěpán has also set out on the path of architecture and, as a member of the younger generation, is in her own way continuing the architectural tradition of her parents.

What first interested you in the field of architecture?

Specific people and experiences. Conversations and walks with my father, a conversation with a yogi in the attic of a Beskydy cottage, debates with a monk who had just returned from prison. And one house with a wall of glass bricks, into which the light shined. I was fascinated. So I started my journey, and I’m still on my way.

Can you talk about a specific experience that has shaped you in a particular way, and influenced your work ?

I can tell you a story: Vanda and I had just completed construction of our house in Vranov. Since the process of building it took up almost all our time, I hadn’t devoted my- self to architectural work and we had nothing to do. I was sitting in our studio with my feet on the table, penniless and looking out the window. I was deciding what to do when the phone rang and someone said: “This is the Office of the President of the Republic.” I was sure it was my friend Martin and that he was joking. The call continued and the voice on the other end suggested a meeting with the president’s wife next Tuesday for possible cooperation. By now I was almost certain that Martin was joking. I wanted to buy some time, so I replied, “Wait a minute, I’ll look in my diary.” Of course I was free that day, and it turned out that a limousine really was waiting for me at Prague Castle on Tuesday, and took me to the castle in Lán, where I had a lunch of boiled beef with car- rots with Mrs. Klaus. Soon after, we started a six-year collaboration with the president’s office, where I was an adviser on architectural matters. Well, it wasn’t Martin and it wasn’t a joke – I was starting a new stage of work.

I don’t deal with this relationship. I think I work very locally, with local materials, but on universal – not international – principles.

How is the work done in your atelier?

Our studio is a small family business. I founded it with my wife Vanda in 1997 in Brno. Now there are six and a half of us. Vanda and I are partners and the authors of buildings. Both of us work on our own projects and give each other advice on request. We have other, mainly young creative people and a wide range of external collaborators in our team. Now our daughter Magdalena has also entered the field of architecture.

Which project are you most deeply involved in at the moment?

Currently, I’m most interested in the project of the museum of mechanical nativity scenes in Svitavy. It’s partially a reconstruction of two older buildings, one of which is the Ottendorfer House. Between the two of us, we are designing a new entrance to the museum and also to the library.

What is the relationship in your work between research and analysis, and the creative part of the design process?

Architecture has its conscious and subconscious parts. Analysis belongs to the conscious, rational realm. It’s good for getting to know a topic or a place, to introduce us to the story. Nowadays, however, analysis is overrated, sometimes almost worshipped. I belong to a generation that introduced analysis to teaching and practice. But it’s important to be careful, as far better than any analysis is refined intuition and visits to reference buildings. So I prefer to explore the architecture of the subconsciousness. I consider the theory of architecture to be important. I myself once established – a little clumsily – a theory about the decor of structures, so-called deconstruction.

You have realised a lot of religious buildings: could you describe the relationship between the sacred and profane in your life and work? Do you believe our world needs more spirituality?

Humanity’s spirituality and religiosity meet an age-old need. This need evolves over time, but it still has one thing in common. It refers to things that transcend us, that are beyond our everyday perception. We constantly focus on them and try to find a language of material buildings that corresponds to the current perception of the world. Secular matters refer to everyday, common situations, and the sacral is defined. A sacral place is a break in space, it is, in the words of philosophers, ganz andere, it is a cosmisation of places.

What’s your advice to young people entering the field of architecture?

Forget panic and despair, and look for new solutions instead. Be optimistic, believe in your talents and strengths, have hope for your future. And don’t listen to me too much.