As architecture is pulled further into the orbit of speed, efficiency and closed systems of production, Exutoire chooses a different position. Rather than standing at the centre of professional practice, they have moved deliberately to the edge, where architecture is no longer understood only as building but becomes a tool for thinking, conversation and questioning. Through publications, exhibitions, workshops and research, their practice keeps widening the definition of architecture and asking again what the architect’s role is in a fast-changing world, where social, environmental and community values are ever more pressing.
Founded in 2019 by Bùi Quý Sơn and Paul-Antoine Lucas, and based in Hanoi, Vietnam, Exutoire works as a way out of the familiar frames of the architectural profession. Instead of starting from a brief, they start from a question. Instead of looking for a final answer, they put their trust in an open process where research, design and dialogue are interwoven. Standing where architecture, art and research meet, Exutoire pursues a critical practice in which each project does not only produce a form but also sets off awareness, opening other ways of understanding space, community and the role of architecture in contemporary life.
Exutoire’s website places the group at the meeting point of architecture, art and research. At a time when fields are ever more specialised, what opportunities and limits does choosing a position "in between" bring to a practice?
Exutoire: Standing at this meeting point came first from a personal need. We both come from architecture, but we also have broad interests in sociology, graphic design, fashion and other forms of creative work. Pure architectural practice couldn’t meet all of those interests.
That "in between" position gives us a certain freedom. Every field has its own limits. When we don’t fully belong to any one frame of reference, we can treat those limits as relative, and bend or redefine them. After a period working in conventional design offices, we realised the existing frameworks no longer met our inner needs. So we began our own projects as a way of actively making a space for our own practice.
This process forces us to keep questioning our direction. At the centre of a field, it’s easy to be pulled into an existing orbit and hard to see what’s hidden. Standing at the edge, on the other hand, lets you observe more clearly and sharply. After almost seven years, we no longer feel any need to return to the centre in the strict sense. The choice we have now feels more satisfying and more consistent with how we want to practise architecture.
What question weighed most on the decision to stand at this meeting point?
Paul-Antoine: In Europe, where most large projects are controlled by investors, decisions often don’t rest with the architect. What troubled us most was the gap between the design process and the real needs of the people who will use the building. Economics can’t be avoided, but the important decisions are often driven by profit, budget, schedule and operational requirements. In many cases the client puts these ahead of the users’ experience, and is even affected by conflicts of interest between the parties involved. Meanwhile, the architect has very little ability to influence the decisions that set the direction.
From that reality, the core question for us became: how do we bring the needs of the user back to the centre of design? And "users" are not only the people who live and work in the building, but also the community, the local context and, more broadly, the social values a project can contribute to.
Sơn: For me, the basic question is: what is the role of the architect in society today? When I studied in France, architectural theory and philosophy suggested a strong belief that architecture can bring about social change. But on entering practice, that belief quickly ran into reality: the architect is often just a small link in a large system.
From there, we realised that even if the scale of our contribution may be limited, an architect can still actively define how they take part. Building is no longer the only goal. Whether through design, drawing, writing, teaching or research, what matters is creating meaningful value within the range we can control.
Is the name Exutoire, a way out, directly linked to these concerns?
Exutoire: The name reflects our choice directly. Exutoire was founded in 2019, when we were both still working in architecture offices. It was a way of deliberately putting some distance between ourselves and conventional practice, to work out again how we wanted to do architecture.
In the early years, the idea of a "way out" led us in many directions: entering competitions, experimenting with different kinds of project, and turning to teaching and research as parallel modes of work. That spirit still shapes our practice today.
We see our architectural practice as a critical one, always questioning and reflecting. "Critique" and "way out" exist side by side: one identifies the problem, the other looks for a way beyond it. Architecture, then, isn’t only about making form. It’s a process of thinking, questioning and searching for meaning.
Rather than designing buildings in the conventional sense, Exutoire often treats design as a research tool, research through design. How does a typical project take shape?
Exutoire: Most of our projects begin from a critical question rather than an existing brief. With OUTLET, for example, the question was: are there "other" ways of practising architecture in Vietnam?
As outside observers, we started by holding in-depth conversations with architects, recording them, translating them and publishing them. From there the project grew through an open process: from conversation to print, exhibitions, fundraising and co-design with collaborators. We believe in that process itself, where the outcome isn’t decided in advance.
With projects that combine publication and exhibition, like OUTLET, in what sense does Exutoire see them as architecture?
Exutoire: For us, architecture isn’t limited to physical space. It’s a form of spatial culture, where space is produced, acted upon and critiqued in relation to its cultural context.
OUTLET can be seen as a non-physical space where exchanges and critiques of architectural practice take place. This approach comes from French architectural education, where architecture is considered a liberal profession, like medicine or law, with a responsibility to serve the common good.
So in every project, we always start from the question of what we can contribute to society, and only then think about forms of expression, such as building, writing, exhibitions or research.
When the production of space is driven by speed and efficiency, how does Exutoire see "slowness"?
Exutoire: "Slow" is at once a position, a method and a strategy. First of all, it is a political choice: a response to today’s pace of production. It has also become a concrete working method.
Construction now accounts for around 40% of global CO₂ emissions. In that context, "slow" can mean building less, building smaller, favouring renovation, using fewer resources, but investing more in thought and quality. The idea grew out of the conversations in OUTLET and was tested in the 22YB1 project as a prototype of "slow" practice.
What role does Vietnam play in Exutoire’s thinking?
Exutoire: Vietnam offers a sharp contrast. "Slow" shows in the non-architectural processes, like negotiating with the community, the authorities and the neighbours. That requires more social skill than technical expertise. "Fast", on the other hand, shows in construction, where everything can change in a very short time.
The spontaneity with which people build and alter their homes is also an important source of inspiration, showing how closely architecture and social life are bound together.
Being "inside and outside at once" is both an advantage, because it allows sharp observation, and a limit, because it’s hard to get deep into the professional community. But it is also a "privilege" we are very aware of.
How does Exutoire understand "intervening" in social issues?
Exutoire: We favour modest interventions that carry real meaning. Rather than pursuing large-scale statements, we believe small things, an object, a space, can still have an effect.
More importantly, each intervention should ask a question: make people stop, think and step out of everyday habit. Here, "slow" is also a tool for awakening awareness.
How does Exutoire assess the impact of its practice?
Exutoire: Impact is hard to measure. For us, it usually lies in the conversations a project sparks: responses from listeners, from students, or exchanges in workshops and exhibitions. Even this interview is a kind of impact, a sign that what we do is making connections.
How do you imagine architectural practice changing over the next 10 to 20 years?
Exutoire: We don’t expect sudden shifts, but we believe in gradual change. There may be more genuine collaboration, fairer sharing, and a move from new building towards renovation.
More importantly, the younger generation of architects needs to define its own practice: with a more critical and questioning spirit, attention to small details and to the user’s experience, and a priority on use value over formal expression.
Finally, what is needed is a more open architectural community, one that can share knowledge, research and experience widely.
Interview by Dương Hà, April 2026.