Calculated Craft: Studio Impossible Projects on Bamboo and Beyond

Artists, architects, and designers each approach materials in their own way. Bamboo, a resource increasingly used in construction, poses unique challenges: sourcing, harvesting age, growth conditions, and treatment. Impossible Projects, a studio based between the Netherlands and the Philippines, tackles these challenges with a bold, experimental approach. They embrace risk, reject conventional methods, and push past traditional creative boundaries. By combining computational design with digital fabrication, they aim to rethink and redefine construction practices.

Founders Rick Atienza and Jasper Niens met when Atienza, then in manpower for the global shipping industry, started helping Niens with large-scale artworks. “He just showed up and started lending a hand,” Niens recalled. Atienza added, “We enjoy building together. I’m half-Filipino, and I like to joke that Jasper is an honorary Filipino. Jasper is an artist who has developed his work in large-scale installations, experimenting across different contexts. We saw the Philippines as a shared creative playground.”

The founders believe their different cultural and environmental backgrounds fuel their creativity. “The Netherlands is rigid and developed, with solutions for nearly everything,” Atienza said. “In the Philippines, we don’t have all the answers. We have to improvise and make do. This contrast pushes us to think differently and break free from traditional silos.”

This approach has driven their work, including the Dome Village in New Clark City; the Dragon Eggs, a large pavilion in Toril, Davao; and Banwag, a bamboo gathering space in Bangsamoro.

Making the connection

The duo behind Studio Impossible Projects began their exploration of bamboo during the pandemic. While it has crossed the co-founders’ minds that they will one day work with the material, getting locked down in Bantayan presented the opportunity to meet it by hand. “A guy on the island just happened to have treated bamboo left in a yard. We picked up 200 poles and just started playing with them.”

Individually, were you always inclined to use bamboo? What convinced you that it was worth making it your studio’s muse?

Niens: Honestly, I was skeptical at first. Coming from a parametric background, I was accustomed to strict materials; those that we can “machine” according to very fine tolerances. Initially, I didn’t feel that bamboo was fit for these kinds of processes. But it wasn’t until we were playing with it that I realized its potential. I guess it was also the challenge and joy of using such a natural material with a digital process that got to me. Will we make it work? How?

Atienza: Growing up on an island in the Philippines, for a long time, I thought that the word “improvise” means repair. There is this mindset of making things work, of utilizing what is available to find the best solution possible. Bamboo is among the things I grew up with, so I guess there was this natural relationship. Still, I didn’t have any technical knowledge about it. We started from scratch, with no external influences or precedents.

As a professional, I think what made bamboo sexy is how there has recently been a lot of ask for it. People have been trying to do different things with it, demonstrating how championing it as a material provides more accessibility compared to using stainless steel or concrete. There’s less resistance, there’s that element of familiarity. And then we finally got our hands on the poles, and we realized that bamboo can be so much more.

Walk us through that light bulb moment with bamboo. What made you decide on the next steps to take?

Niens: Because I believed that bamboo was “dimensionally unstable,” we asked ourselves: What needs to be measurable for us to work with it? We figured it out by establishing core measurements such as diameter and wall thickness. We needed these because we had to accommodate a digital workflow we were used to, but with a natural material. There was this excitement to combine something digital with hard-coated realities.

Atienza: We defined what we needed to be stable. We mad-maxed a machine from different parts and did our first test. We discovered how we can cut bamboo at a certain angle and explored ideas from there. It was not just a moment, but a collection of sitting down and thinking. We also found that the strength of bamboo lies in being tensile and compressive. While it’s also good at bending, we found that these two aspects are measurable, and they’re what we can work around. We learned to break the problem into multiple points and experiment.

Niens: I think among our jumps was when we created the Dome Village in New Clark City, where we used reclaimed timber that’s very heavy and strong. We paused and thought: what if we could come up with a similar structure, but using bamboo? We realized that doing this would give us the advantage of having a prefabricated structure that we can easily transport while skipping factors like weight, making something easier to build. We also looked at it from a more human perspective, where every man is allowed to create something. Imagine giving that opportunity, right? If you use bamboo well, you get a similar strength compared to traditional construction materials. It’s joyous to build with. So, it made a lot of sense that we explore the idea.

I like how you said that bamboo is joyous to build with. Can you illustrate your process thus far? How do you bridge that gap you mentioned between digital precision and organic unpredictability?

Niens: Aside from embracing bamboo’s dimensional variety in diameter and wall thickness, we also select bamboo according to the forces that will be applied to the poles individually. We developed this building process where we mark every element we use to build. You can find a sticker in our materials! That sticker stays with the pole from the moment it gets selected until it is assembled. This enables us to manufacture off-site and, once on-site, to quickly construct without the need for building documentation.

During construction, you’ll hear someone shout, “Can I have pole B20, please?” and the pole will be on its way! We try to make our process enjoyable, really creating a playground for everyone. We believe that the joy of building rests on how a structure can be fun and easy to build.

For efficiency, we’ve designed and built a machine that can process bamboo poles with their varying requirements in the same manner. If we can tie digital fabrication to human interfacing, we believe this to be the way forward.

Positioning the poles

The challenge now, according to Atienza and Niens, is preserving the craft of using bamboo. “It’s famous in countries like Bali because it’s a part of their history. Generations upon generations have worked with it,” Atienza highlighted. “For us here in the Philippines, we’ve unfortunately cut down 94 percent of our forest, which has led to losing skilled laborers such as carpenters. Most people here are used to building with concrete and cement or the like, so working with bamboo is a skill to be relearned. Admittedly, we stumbled into creating a digital method for working with bamboo simply because we were unaware of how people were doing it.”

It’s interesting how there has been this movement to start using bamboo, but the material remains underutilized in mainstream architecture. What would you say are the biggest technical or cultural barriers preventing its wider adoption?

Niens: The construction industry and architecture are both conservative and slow to change. To begin, we must alter the perception that bamboo is inferior to concrete or steel and is only used by the poor. Bamboo construction and design are alternative methods that require a different way of thinking about what buildings should look like. Additionally, the bamboo industry must mature and avoid monoculture plantations, which would be detrimental and undermine the current opportunity.

Atienza: We believe that if we further integrate bamboo digitally, as unromantic as this may sound, we can take the trades out of working with bamboo. Ultimately, the goal is you go to a hardware store, buy bamboo, and any carpenter can screw them into the wall.

Niens: I think it’s also important that we see cultural barriers or even environmental differences not as limitations but as factors to work with. For example, going back to the conversation on Bali, they use and build bamboo differently there because there are no typhoons. In the Philippines, it’s an entirely different thing because we deal with extreme weather conditions and natural disasters.

From a technical standpoint, I believe one of the main problems with the material is the connection. Figuring that out was a pivotal moment in our quest because we came up with this way of connecting the nodes in the system and the bamboo itself. We realized later that this is not something that many people do simply because it’s not the usual way. It all boils down to getting to know the material. People need to be exposed to it so they can also find out how it could work for them.

You’ve gotten to where you are by challenging yourselves to find the best method for bamboo construction. Do you follow the same philosophy for the projects you create? Would you respond to any context or client brief?

Niens: I’m not going to lie. We try to find projects that align with our quest. We want clients who will allow us to delve deeper into the system we have created. We are not architects; we use art, science, mathematics, and knowledge from other fields to deliver our projects. I believe that, in a way, what we do is art because most of our projects provide us with creative freedom. So far, we haven’t gotten a brief where the instructions were strict, or the form was already set to a specific look. At the same time, because of our process and system, everything is calculated.

For example, for the Banwag, what was asked of us was a dome-like design. Even with such a complex form, we built this without any documentation. Since all the elements are numbered, you don’t need a drawing. The structure will take you where you must go. Considering the location, Maguindanao, which is not the safest place to build, we knew we had to be quick. We built it in two and a half weeks.

Atienza: Just to provide you with a picture, we built the Banwag using 120 poles, for a structure measuring nine and a half meters by 16, ensuring something lightweight and minimalist. All of the elements had to serve a purpose. Even the structure’s form, which is arguably reminiscent of Islamic patterns, still stems from geometric principles. We dislike cladding. So, nothing exists for the sake of nothing.

I’m glad that you mentioned the Islamic geometric patterns of the Banwag, as I also noticed references to local histories and cultural motifs in your projects, such as reclaimed timber from Mount Pinatubo in the Dome Village. Can you further on how you ensure that these influences are meaningful and pivotal to the project rather than decorative?

Niens: There’s this thing we call the span-to-mass ratio. If you have a low footprint for the amount of material you use and also the human resources you need to complete it, it ties into this belief that the less you use of anything is better and more efficient.

We prioritize structural principles in our designs because we believe in showcasing the inherent beauty of physics and allowing the observer to witness the flow of forces. We avoid hiding these forces behind decorative elements, as we consider “decoration” to be contrary to our goals. However, if meaningful patterns or references emerge within these structural constraints and align with our commitment to honest material usage, efficiency, and sustainability, we believe we have achieved a successful design. A structure is more than a well-engineered result, ultimately, it is about storytelling too.

Kudos to you for sticking true to your goal! Based on your portfolio thus far, I can say that you have tried to showcase in your design what a space means, not necessarily in the physical, but in a sense that it imbues that spirit of place and translates into form.

Niens: To me, I wouldn’t say that tying a structure to its place is one of the first objectives. I think that’s something that kind of just happens. The base is always the place itself. Like many, we start by scanning the land, seeing the possibilities, and somehow we always end up with a form that becomes a part of its site.

Also, I believe that material is always tied to a place. Bamboo, for example, is part of Philippine culture. Having something like it in your design already speaks volumes. The challenge then is for you to use it with respect to where the structure will stand.

Atienza: We do look at ventilation, sun angle, wind direction, and the like. We incorporate that with the engineering system, and it becomes a symphony. We believe that the more effortless the structure looks, the easier for it to belong to its site. We see images of a city or a place, and somehow, a structure defines that place. It’s all about designing something that’s not intrusive, one that doesn’t pretend to be anything less than what it is.

From impossible to possible

Years after Studio Impossible Projects has utilized its self-developed system, Atienza says that their exploration is far from over. “We named our studio this way because we like projects that challenge us to rethink our system and improve, so we can take the next step. At the same time, we’ve taken our system to a level where we’re quite confident that we can use it with engineering, addressing client needs, and maximizing materials and resources such as bamboo.”

Studio Impossible Projects’ work thrives on your collaborations with engineers, artisans, and local craftsmen. Has there been a moment when a collaborator’s insight completely changed the way you thought about a design challenge?

Niens: Hard to tell of an exact moment, of course it is all about synergy, one thing we always try to do is look very carefully at the way an existing process is being run, whether it be a manufacturer that has a specific process or from the viewpoint of a carpenter that is building with us. We try to streamline and tie in to this in order to have an overall informed construction process. One of the things we focus on is how the design helps the construction process instead of the other way around.

Atienza: We work with a lot of craftsmen, who may or may not have different educational backgrounds from ours. And we like this because we like cultural interchange. 

One time, Jasper worked with a fabric expert, who taught us how to do a stitch and a fold properly to achieve our goal, which ended up teaching us more about fabric itself! Jasper always says that the first thing we need to build when we start a project is a table. We need a place to sit down, drink coffee, and have that conversation. 

Niens: The beauty of these discussions is that it doesn’t matter who the answer is coming from. Everybody has a voice. One of the things I do is ask the team to find me a problem, so we know what we have to solve. Sometimes it would be a joke in the team where we say, “Oh no! We haven’t found a problem today!”

It’s great that as co-founders, you decided to make this a practice! As a design journalist, I have heard many success stories that happened because of proper communication, and have also heard of issues that stemmed from miscommunication. 

Atienza: Exactly! In the Philippines, especially in architecture and construction, we’re very hierarchical. There’s this culture of division among professions and this thinking that one has to stay in their place, when the truth is, we can all benefit from constant interaction. In our studio, we strive to create a system that listens because we believe people are our biggest investment.

There’s no need for anything or anyone to be above. Rather, our design and build processes need a feedback loop where we get direct feedback from everyone involved, whether something works or not. If it doesn’t, we need that openness where everyone on the team feels safe enough to suggest alternative solutions.

Niens: I think it’s not just in the Philippines, but it’s also how architecture was shaped as a field. There’s this notion that architecture focuses on the vision without thinking of how something will be built, while engineering only thinks of the practical. The reality is we need these two worlds to work together. 

Atienza: It’s also an advocacy for us to build a knowledge bridge. Things are happening in Asia, and it’s time we bring our knowledge from different parts of the world and apply that in the local setting. Who knows, maybe one day we can also bring what we’ve learned here in the Philippines somewhere else? 

Speaking of cultural exchange, you’ve seen different responses from working in both the Netherlands and the Philippines. What’s one lesson each region could learn from the other? 

Niens: Europe’s sustainability regulations and incentives, if implemented wisely, can be advantageous. The Philippines has the potential to become a leader in sustainable construction materials and academic research on sustainability challenges. To realize this potential and create economic viability, the Philippines should collaborate with partner institutions in Europe to generate more demand. This would bring benefits to the Philippines, a country that experiences the brunt of natural disasters annually. Concentrating knowledge and resources in the Philippines makes the most sense, and the lessons learned could provide a blueprint for the world. If it works here in the Philippines, it could likely work somewhere else too.

Permanence and possibilities

When asked about their ultimate goal, Atienza and Niens said that they dream of constructing a lightweight, typhoon-proof bamboo shelter in the usual paths of typhoons such as Samar, Leyte, or Aurora, showcasing the full potential of bamboo as a construction material. They described it as an ambitious project that envisions a high-tech, sustainable shelter designed to withstand extreme weather conditions. “We aim to revolutionize conventional ideas about shelter design and resilience against natural forces. Realizing this vision will require substantial external assistance and funding, potentially through partnerships with universities and global grant opportunities.”

Currently, your designs embrace lightness and adaptability, seemingly blurring the line between permanence and impermanence. How do you navigate this tension? Are your structures intended to last, or is impermanence an intentional part of your design philosophy? 

Niens: Philosophically, the world is always in a state of flux. No material or idea evades the erosion of time, as everything is constantly changing and evolving; nothing remains static. In our thinking, it makes sense to adopt construction practices that embrace this inherent dynamism.

Prefabricated construction, with its emphasis on modular components, is a logical solution. This approach also facilitates the efficient management of materials at the end of a building’s life cycle, promoting a more sustainable and circular economy within the construction industry.

The perception is that our structures are temporary because you can see the bolted connections, or you can picture them disassembled. But maybe that’s how we should look at buildings. How good would it be to have buildings that we can simply take apart and move? 

Atienza: Moreover, the ecosystem we built allows us to easily identify members that are not up to spec anymore and simply unbolt them, then replace them with a new member. Yes, bamboo has a lifespan, but think about this: how cool is it that you can build something and easily swap out a part when it needs to be replaced? 

Right. It would be nice to have a structure that you can heal or change even after building it, without affecting its structural integrity. 

The Banwag, for example, was designed this way. Would you say that this project is telling of your studio’s evolution? Is it a reflection of what your future designs will be like? 

Niens: Banwag is a testament to our dedication to robust construction. It is capable of withstanding wind speeds of up to 270 kilometers per hour, demonstrating that adaptability and resilience are not mutually exclusive and that they can coexist harmoniously in the realm of modern construction. 

We do hope to build something more enclosed in the future. I believe that’s the logical next step because now we have a system and it’s prefabricated, we can even explore how to send it from the Philippines to a country like Malaysia, then slowly work our way to Europe. 

Atienza: This doesn’t mean that everything has to be enclosed. But at least now, we have the option when we’re designing for somebody. We have something different to work with. 

I think our advantage now, and even moving forward, is that we come from different fields. We get to make a statement because we refer to art, but at the same time, we get to interrupt because we employ science. Who knows? We may even surprise ourselves with what we will be able to come up with next. 

You’ve created the impossible by challenging conventional ideas of architecture and construction. How do you measure success: by technical execution, public reception, or something else entirely? 

Niens: There’s only one answer to this: by influencing others. If we can show the world that new systems and methods are possible, then we can push others to discover new ways of their own. We want to be an inspiration so that we may all continue to dream. •

Project Credits

Dragons, 2023

Design and engineering: Jasper Niens
Project lead and digital fabrication coordinator: Rick Atienza
Junior project coordinator: Jeanne Caratao
Bamboo production and construction supervision: Rex Dela Peña, Allan Zamora
Construction: Arjey Bago, Warren Bastian, Rolando Lutang, Rolando Galicto, Francis Macampao
Advisory: Bert van Asperen | Van Asperen Maritiem
Video and drone shots: Princess Taroza, Kenneth Burcelis, Angely Chi
Photos: Coicoi Nacario, Cedric Van and Rick Atienza
The project was made possible through the efforts of Alec van Dierendonck

Banwag

Design and construction: Studio Impossible Projects
Project: Banwag Pharos ‘2024’
Location: Parang, Maguindanao, Philippines
Materials: Bamboo, Stainless Steel, Tensile Membrane
Dimensions: 15x15x9 meters
Design and engineering: Jasper Niens
Project lead: Rick Atienza
Global structural calculations: Summum Engineering
Client: P.S Sarmiento Group
Project Coordinator: Jeanne Caratao
Production and construction supervision: Rex Dela Peña, Allan Zamora
Security and catering: Pedro Cabague Rosellosa, Nasrudin Datumanong

Dome Village, New Clark City

An international collaboration between Silverlens Galleries, Jasper Niens, Rick Atienza,
Philippine artist Bernardo Pacquing, Thijs Ewalts, John Colenbrander, and Summum Engineering.
Photography: Susan Larsson

impossibleprojects.net