Authors’ Comment
What if a building could mend the gaps left by time?
Could architecture bring back something we’ve lost—a sense of belonging across generations?
This diploma project began not with a form or a site, but with a question: what does a sustainable community actually look like? This inquiry reshaped the way I thought about architecture—not only as a spatial discipline, but as a social one. It guided the project through layers of strategy and context, from international agendas down to a forgotten corner of Bucharest: the Vatra Luminoasă neighborhood.
To define social sustainability, I began with the 2030 Agenda, then traced how its principles were reflected in Romania’s National Sustainable Development Strategy. Locally, I worked with Bucharest’s Integrated Sustainable Development Strategy, which revealed two alarming trends in Sector 2: it has the city’s oldest population and the lowest percentage of youth. These patterns were confirmed by the Sector 2 Local Strategy, highlighting Vatra Luminoasă as one of the most affected areas.
The strategies propose solutions: public spaces designed for interaction between generations, social programs for the elderly, and long- or short-term care centers that ease the burden on emergency services. Yet, only three permanent medical centers exist in Bucharest, far from the 69 projected as necessary.
From this emerged the concept of a medico-social infrastructure—a space not only for treatment, but for care, learning, and dignity. The center would offer outpatient and palliative care, rehabilitation, occupational therapy, sensory stimulation, and play-based recovery. These would be supported by creative workshops that bridge therapeutic and cultural engagement.
In exploring the area’s demographics, I noticed a contradiction. Although Sector 2 is aging, it also has one of the highest concentrations of schools in the city—87, equal to Sector 1. The youth are there, but only temporarily. The elderly remain, isolated. This dynamic reveals a fragmented community—a place where people pass by, but don’t connect.
The site choice became clear once I revisited the social history of Vatra Luminoasă. Its name comes from the Vatra Luminoasă Establishment, founded in the early 20th century by Queen Elisabeth to provide housing and workspaces for the blind. Today, only the Special High School for the Blind remains. This legacy of care and inclusion inspired the ethos of my intervention.
Nearby institutions—Monza Hospital, the Church of Vatra Luminoasă, the Association of the Blind, and the IBIS Education Center—already act as informal support nodes. My proposal seeks to consolidate these efforts into an architectural network.
The ground floor of the center is split into medical and leisure areas, connected by a central corridor. The upper level holds therapy rooms, creative spaces, a gym, and a playroom. A shared library, with Braille and audio translation, supports accessible learning. The top floor includes supervision rooms and a rooftop terrace for events, reviving the cultural spirit of the original institution.
Architecturally, the building acts as a bridge. Two porticoes extend toward the Association of the Blind and the Educational Center, like open arms. A pedestrian axis aligns with the church’s entrance, creating spatial continuity. A green platform offers space for reflection, rest, and community gatherings. Large vertical windows create visual links to the outside. A lowered courtyard, inspired by the “ha-ha wall,” ensures safety without creating walls. Toward the street, the façade reflects the rhythm of the surrounding houses.
This is not just a center—it is a proposal for reconnection. A place where care is not a service, but a structure. A space where generations don’t just coexist, but meet.