Imagine a clean slate on which you can erect the house of your dreams. What would it be like?  
A massive dome-like structure that dominates the landscape in the surrounding region, igniting tensions with neighbours, the local community and the authorities alike? [1] Or would it be a tiny house, triggering philosophical dilemmas along the lines of: ‘Is less truly more or simply all that we can afford?’ We could also explore the merits of life, but that subject alone would be enough for a separate Inter edition. Maybe next time. But for now, let’s focus on Almere, one of the youngest cities in the Netherlands and a hotbed for urban renewal. 

Almere is a city with 235.000 inhabitants, located approximately twenty kilometres from Amsterdam and has always been a haven for pioneers and creative souls. ‘In Almere there is not much to do, we don’t have many festivals or centuries of history like other Dutch cities, so we have to invent our own activities’, says Anoushka, a local organic herbs store owner and longtime resident. Hein van der Loo, Almere’s recently instated mayor, praises the city as a ‘unique project with opportunities abound’. [2] 

Invention is a key word in this city, which was originally envisioned as a composition of three urban centres, each with its own character and amenities. Almere Stad is the name of the central part,  
a bustling city centre with shopping streets, office blocks, and the central railway station.  
Almere Haven is a residential area characterized by low-rise architecture, winding bike paths, and a marina, while Almere Buiten (English for ‘outside’) borders farmlands and nature. These three parts of the city are connected by 500 kilometres of paved bicycle paths and bus lanes, which are separated from the rest of the road network. 

This approach embodies the spirit of the ’garden city’, a term originally coined by Ebenezer Howard,  
a socially engaged British journalist and passionate advocate for reinvigorating urban landscapes as a reaction to the misery and unsanitary conditions in the polluted cities of the Industrial-Revolution-era England. In his book ‘Garden Cities of To-Morrow’, published in 1902, he pleaded for constructing cities with a human touch, where the inhabitants live in brightly illuminated homes, breathe clean air, and are surrounded by lush green environments. Howard’s intention was to seek a balance between the simple joys of country living and the plethora of people, opinions, and opportunities that only a bustling city can offer. [3] 

In Almere’s spin on this vision there is also plenty of room for outside-the-box initiatives. Guided by the general principle of ‘Growing Green Cities’, future inhabitants of selected areas in the city were invited to submit their own design for a house without the limitations of bureaucracy. The result was a barrage of creativity and a myriad of innovative sustainable structures. 

A prime example of this happy-go-lucky spirit is the Swinging Art House in Almere Hout, located on the south-eastern fringes of the city, where the lack of construction provides for endless horizons and abundance of space. This remarkable two-story house sits on a cul-de-sac neighbouring a biodynamic farm, modelled after the pioneer sheds that dotted the 19th century US Midwest, a convenience store, and a daycare centre. It features a wildlife garden that would make Monty Don proud and a second floor that resembles a tree house, connected to the ground floor through a spiral staircase. The walls are made of straw bales, the kitchen is connected to a greenhouse, and in the garden a strip of meadowland serves as an elevated eco-walkway, effortlessly connecting the garden to the roof. 

The idea for this rather unusual dwelling was concocted in the mind of Jos Bregman, an artist, performer, storyteller, walnut farmer, and woodworker who has lived in Almere since 2019. ‘My wife knew the farmer who owns the lot, she asked us to participate in this project and we took the plunge. What I love about this place is the sense of creativity and nature that I feel here – there is a housing project nearby, but the zoning plan says that only a certain part of this district can be used for construction, the rest is reserved for nature’, says Bregman, who is especially passionate about woodwork. ‘You see’, he says, brushing sawdust from his trousers, ‘wood has memory. Every knot, every ring—it tells you what the tree lived through. Storms, droughts, even where it leaned toward the sun. My job isn’t to shape it into something – it’s to listen to it and bring out what’s already there.’ He points towards wooden artworks in his workshop. ‘Those are all my creations. I have basically recreated the forest, but my version of it. I feel a bit like a farmer, tasked with cultivating the land and leaving it in better shape than how he found it. Or maybe a DJ on the decks, creating a symphony with wood’. 

So with the cost of living expenses going through the roof and the effects of climate change intensifying, are there ideas emerging that could boost the transition from environmentally harmful practices toward the use of sustainable, bio-based building materials? The Dutch government certainly thinks so. It has set a target to build 900,000 new houses by 2030, with a focus on circular materials such as wood. [4] The sustainability factor of course plays a large role in this – timber construction has a significantly lower carbon footprint than concrete and steel constructions, but this only applies to wood harvested in responsibly managed forests. [5] 

This is where Bregman’s philosophy on wood comes into play. It rests on two pillars – sustainability and respect. The wood is personally harvested by Bregman. Every single piece is provided with an  
ID-chip, which in turn is connected to a database where the origins of the wood are documented. Bregman deeply respects the materials he works with; he gives every tree a name and tries to bring all its qualities to life while processing them. 

The no-compromise style of the house contrasts starkly with the uniformity of the developer-built residential area located in the immediate vicinity. Here the Almere municipality has built 242 houses in record time, but there is concrete everywhere and not a sliver of timber in sight. Wouldn’t it be easier to incorporate alternative construction materials to large scale housing projects such as these, so that sustainability is embedded from the ground up? ‘Well, that’s probably not doable on a massive scale, at least not yet’ says Bregman. ‘Also, think about the 40 billion euros worth of fossil fuel subsidies that the Dutch government pours into the system every year, which is not exactly a small amount. This makes it incredibly difficult for sustainable models to gain real traction.  

And besides, why bother? Uniformity is one thing that I absolutely abhor, let the creativity flow is my motto. I truly believe it is by plunging into the unknown that bold ideas begin to take root and flourish. Who knows, maybe more people will wake up and follow that call’.