Townhouse in English: Features, Floor Plan, and Examples

Building design
A modern residential building designed as a townhouse in English
Traditional brick houses with white windows—a classic row of historic cottages. Photo: tanyabarrow / Unsplash

The row house is one of the most influential types of residential architecture in European urban history. Anyone studying the row house in English will encounter a category of buildings that, in the Anglo-Saxon world, not only goes by a different name but has also developed its own distinct cultural, structural, and urban identity. Whether it’s a “terraced house” in Great Britain, a “row house” in North America, or a “townhouse” in modern new-development neighborhoods: behind these terms lies a building form that uniquely combines density with quality of life, and whose fundamental principles continue to shape urban planning worldwide to this day.

  • What “terraced house,” “row house,” and “townhouse” mean and how they differ from one another
  • The historical development of the row house in England, America, and German-speaking regions
  • Typical floor plans, number of stories, and spatial organization of the row house
  • Structural features: partition walls, fire protection, access, and outdoor spaces
  • Urban planning significance and density: Why the row house functions as a building block of the city
  • Differences between British, American, and German types of row houses
  • Relevant codes, planning standards, and terminology in an international comparison
  • Current relevance of the townhouse in contemporary architecture and sustainable housing construction

Townhouses in English: Key Terms and Their Meanings

Translating the German term “Reihenhaus” into English is not a one-way street, as different terms are used depending on the geographic and cultural context; while these terms describe the same basic concept, each carries specific connotations. The most common term in British English is “terraced house” (plural: “terraced houses”). It refers to a residential building that is directly attached on the sides to similar neighboring houses, thus forming a continuous row. The term is derived from the Latin “terra” (earth, ground) and originally referred to the terraced layout of rows of houses on slopes or elevated platforms, such as those found in the Georgian neighborhoods of London, Edinburgh, or Bath.

In American and Canadian English, however, the term “row house” is common, with the word “row” directly indicating the arrangement of the houses. “Row” means a line, and a “row house” is literally a house in a row of similar buildings. This term is deeply rooted in cities along the American East Coast—particularly in Baltimore, Philadelphia, Washington, D.C., and Boston—where it describes a specific tradition of residential construction that shaped the working-class and middle-class neighborhoods of these cities in the 19th century. In addition, there is the term “townhouse,” which is used in modern parlance in both Great Britain and North America but often refers to a slightly more upscale or newer variation of the row house, frequently featuring a private entrance, multiple full stories, and a small private outdoor area.

For German-speaking architects, planners, and builders working in an international context, knowledge of these terms is indispensable. “Terraced house,” “row house,” and “townhouse” are not synonymous, even though they can all correspond to the German term “Reihenhaus.” In professional communication with British planning authorities, American developers, or when reading English-language technical literature, the precise use of these terms is crucial. Another related term is “semi-detached house” (short for “semi”), which refers to a semi-detached house—that is, two houses built side by side with no other neighbors on the other sides. This concept corresponds to the German “Doppelhaus” and must be distinguished from the Reihenhaus, even though there are structural similarities.

Historical Development: From the Georgian Terrace to the Modern Townhouse

The history of the row house in English does not begin with the Industrial Age, even though the mass production of row houses is inextricably linked to 19th-century urbanization. As early as the 17th and early 18th centuries, spacious rows of houses were built in London as part of planned urban expansions. The “Georgian terraces,” named after Kings George I through George IV, who reigned from 1714 to 1830, are the best-known example of this early terraced house tradition. Places such as Bedford Square in London or the Royal Crescent in Bath demonstrate how the terraced house principle could be elevated to an urban architectural style of the highest order: Individual houses were combined into a unified façade that created the impression of a palace or a monumental city mansion, while individual residential units lay behind it.

With the Industrial Revolution, the character of the row house changed fundamentally. England’s rapidly growing industrial cities, including Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds, and Liverpool, needed housing for hundreds of thousands of workers in a very short time. During this period, speculative developers erected dense rows of small, two-story brick houses that became known as “back-to-back houses” or “through terraces.” “Back-to-back houses” were particularly cramped variations in which two rows of houses were built back-to-back, without a backyard or ventilation, leading to catastrophic sanitary conditions. Today, these buildings in England have largely been demolished or renovated; a few examples in Leeds are listed as historic landmarks, serving as testaments to 19th-century working-class housing culture.

In the United States, the “row house” developed in parallel and took on its own distinct characteristics. Philadelphia’s row houses, which first appeared as early as the 18th century, are considered the precursors of an American housing tradition that remains vibrant in many cities to this day. Baltimore’s “row houses” from the 19th and early 20th centuries are known for their characteristic marble staircases that lead directly to the sidewalk. In Washington, D.C., stately row houses were built in the tradition of British Georgian terraces, which are now considered highly sought-after townhouses. These American examples demonstrate how the “row house” developed a distinct cultural identity that extends far beyond its mere residential function.

In German-speaking countries, the history of the row house took a different course, although the basic form is the same. The term “Reihenhaus” became established here primarily in the context of the housing reform movement of the early 20th century. Housing estates such as the Weissenhof Estate in Stuttgart (1927) or the estates of “New Frankfurt” showcased the row house as an instrument of social and design-oriented renewal in housing. This tradition differs from Anglo-Saxon practice in its stronger connection to garden city ideals and the demand for light, air, and green space for every residential unit.

Floor Plan and Spatial Organization: How the Row House Works

The floor plan of a row house—whether called a “terraced house,” “row house,” or “townhouse”—follows an internal logic dictated by the narrow, deep lot. The typical lot width of a British Victorian row house ranges from four to seven meters, while the depth ranges from twelve to twenty meters or more. These proportions dictate a specific sequence of rooms: From the entrance on the street front, the house is accessed either via a side hallway that connects all the rooms or via a central staircase that connects the floors. In 19th-century British terraced houses, the standard layout featured a side hallway with adjoining reception and living rooms facing the street, and a kitchen and utility rooms facing the garden.

The vertical layout is another characteristic of the English terraced house. While the German terraced house often has two full stories with a converted attic, British “terraced houses” are frequently two to four full stories high, depending on the era and the social status of the residents. Georgian townhouses in London can reach five stories: basement (for the kitchen and servants’ quarters), ground floor (reception rooms), first floor (main living quarters, often referred to as the “piano nobile”), second floor (bedrooms), and attic (children’s rooms or servants’ quarters). This vertical stratification of functions is a characteristic feature of the English townhouse and clearly distinguishes it from the horizontally organized German row house.

American “row houses” exhibit a similar depth, but are typically two to three stories high. A characteristic feature is direct access from the street via an open staircase, the so-called “stoop” (from the Dutch “stoep”), which shapes the streetscape in cities such as New York, Baltimore, and Philadelphia. The floor plan of American row houses is often slightly wider than that of the British type, allowing for a more spacious layout. Modern “townhouses” in contemporary residential neighborhoods in both countries tend to feature open floor plans on the ground floor with a seamless transition between the kitchen, dining, and living areas, while the bedrooms are located on the upper floors.

An important structural element is the shared dividing wall between two adjacent townhouses, known in English as a “party wall.” This wall is a special case both legally and in terms of building physics: It is jointly owned by both neighbors and, in the United Kingdom, is subject to the “Party Wall Act” of 1996, a law that regulates the rights and obligations of both parties regarding construction work on this wall. The “party wall” must meet fire safety requirements, ensure sound insulation, and be structurally stable. In historic brick buildings, it often also serves a load-bearing function, as the ceiling structures rest on it.

Structural Characteristics: Materials, Fire Safety, and Access

In its historical form, the British “terraced house” is almost without exception constructed of fired brick masonry. Brick construction is so closely associated with the English terraced house that it has become a cultural hallmark. Regional variations in brick color—from the red bricks of London to the yellow “London stocks” and the dark bricks of northern England—shape the identity of entire neighborhoods. The exterior walls of historic terraced houses are typically constructed as double-shell walls, with an outer facing of exposed masonry and an inner load-bearing wall, separated by an air gap. This construction, known as a “cavity wall,” was introduced in the early 20th century to prevent moisture penetration.

Fire safety poses a particular challenge for row houses because the dense development facilitates the rapid spread of fire. Historic city fires, including the Great Fire of London in 1666, have significantly influenced the development of building codes for row houses. The “party wall”—a solid fire wall between the units—is a direct result of these experiences. Modern planning standards, both in the United Kingdom (Building Regulations) and in the United States (International Building Code, IBC), specify detailed requirements for the fire resistance rating of partition walls, ceilings, and roof structures in row houses.

Access to the townhouse from the street is a significant issue in urban planning. In the British tradition, the main entrance leads directly from the street or through a small front yard into the house. The backyard, known in English as the “back garden” or “rear garden,” is the private outdoor space and is separated from the neighborhood by a wall or fence. Many British terraced housing developments feature a rear access lane, the “back lane” or “back alley,” which originally served for garbage disposal and coal delivery and is now frequently used as access to garages or bicycle parking areas built later. These alleys are a characteristic feature of British residential neighborhoods and have no direct equivalent in German row house developments.

Urban Planning Significance: Density, Street Space, and Neighborhood Character

The row house is such an effective building block of the city because it combines high housing density with a human scale. A row of twenty row houses on a city block creates a clear spatial boundary, defines the street space, and at the same time provides each residential unit with a private outdoor area. These qualities made the “terraced house” and the “row house” preferred tools of urban housing development long before the term “urbanism” appeared in planning terminology.

The density achievable with row houses ranges from 50 to 120 residential units per hectare, depending on lot size and the number of stories. This places the row house between the detached single-family home (very low density) and the multi-family building or high-rise apartment building (high density). This medium density is particularly valuable from an urban planning perspective because it creates the conditions for functional local amenities, short distances, and vibrant streets, without producing the anonymity and loss of scale associated with large apartment blocks. Urban planners and architects such as Leon Krier and Andres Duany, the co-founder of New Urbanism in the U.S., have championed the row house as the building block of a people-centered urban structure.

The facade of the row house facing the street is a public face that helps determine the quality of the entire street space. Georgian and Victorian row houses in British cities demonstrate how a consistent design principle—uniform eave height, recurring window formats, and uniform materials—can still allow for individual variations and create a high-quality streetscape. These principles are once again relevant in contemporary architecture: Many new construction projects in European and American cities are deliberately drawing on the townhouse typology to create neighborhoods with identity and a sense of scale.

International Differences: British, American, German

A direct comparison of terraced house types in different countries reveals both common underlying principles and significant differences in construction, floor plan, materials, and cultural significance. In its historical form, the British “terraced house” is closely associated with brick construction, double-shell masonry, and a vertical spatial organization across multiple stories. It stands directly on the street or behind a small front yard, has a backyard, and is typically part of a long, uniformly designed row. The maintenance and renovation of these houses is a significant economic sector in the United Kingdom, as a large portion of the British housing stock consists of row houses from the 19th and early 20th centuries.

The American “row house” differs in its often wider lot, the characteristic open staircase leading to the street, and a more pronounced regional variation. While row houses in Baltimore are known for their marble staircases and uniform brick aesthetic, row houses in San Francisco—known there as “Painted Ladies” or “Victorian houses”—feature a completely different materiality and ornamentation, characterized by wood and colorfully painted facades. This regional diversity is a hallmark of the American “row house,” which is less pronounced in the British context.

The German postwar row house, a product of the housing development movement, differs from both Anglo-Saxon types in its stronger orientation toward the garden, fewer stories (usually two full stories with an attic), greater lot depth, and a less intimate relationship with the street. The front yard in the German row house is often larger, and the garage or parking space is an integral part of the lot. These differences reflect differing ideals of living: While the British “terraced house” accepts the city as a living space and actively helps shape the street environment, the German postwar row house tends to turn away from the street and focus on private green space.

The Row House in Contemporary Architecture

The return of the row house as a serious design challenge in contemporary architecture is no coincidence. In light of rising land prices in cities, growing demand for individual housing with a private entrance and outdoor space, and the need to increase urban density without sacrificing quality of life, the row house offers a compelling solution. Projects such as the Borneo-Sporenburg development in Amsterdam, planned in the 1990s by Adriaan Geuze and the firm West 8, demonstrate how the row house can lead to high density and, at the same time, great design diversity on extremely narrow lots just five to six meters wide.

In the British context, the “Build to Rent” program and the debate surrounding the housing crisis in cities such as London, Manchester, and Bristol have reignited interest in new forms of the “terraced house” and “townhouse.” Architectural firms such as Alison Brooks Architects and Haworth Tompkins have demonstrated through their terraced house designs that the “terraced house” typology can be interpreted in a contemporary way without losing its urban qualities. Issues such as accessibility, energy efficiency, flexible floor plans, and the integration of bicycle parking and charging infrastructure for electric vehicles place new demands on the floor plan and construction of the modern terraced house.

Sustainability is another area where the terraced house can leverage its structural advantages. Shared partition walls significantly reduce the exterior surface area per residential unit and thus heat loss compared to a detached single-family home. Calculations show that a middle townhouse—that is, a house without gable walls facing the outside—requires significantly less heating energy than a detached house with the same floor area. This thermal efficiency is an argument that is gaining increasing weight in the debate over energy standards and climate protection in residential construction.

The Row House as an Enduring Building Block of the City

The terraced house—whether called a “terraced house,” “row house,” or “townhouse”—is more than just a type of housing. It is a building block of the city that has proven over the centuries that it can combine density and individuality, public space and private retreat, cost-effectiveness, and quality of life in a single typology. The diversity of its historical manifestations—from London’s Georgian terraces to Baltimore’s brick row houses to San Francisco’s wooden homes—demonstrates this principle’s adaptability to different climates, cultures, and building traditions.

For architects and urban planners working in an international context, a precise understanding of English-language terminology—that is, the ability to reliably distinguish between “terraced house,” “row house,” “townhouse,” and “semi-detached house,” is a fundamental prerequisite for professional communication. But there is more to it than just language proficiency: those who are familiar with these typologies understand the urban planning and structural logic behind these terms and can apply them creatively to their own designs.

The fundamental structural principles of the row house—the narrow, deep lot, the shared partition wall, the vertical circulation, and the private outdoor space—are timeless. They present planners with challenges that demand both technical skill and spatial thinking in equal measure: How is daylight brought into the depth of the floor plan? How are sound and fire protection addressed at the “party wall”? How can a sense of privacy and spaciousness be created despite dense development? These questions were the same in the 18th century as they are today, and the best answers to them can be found in the row houses that were built to last.

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Signal Iduna Park: architecture meets urban stadium art

Building design
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Woman text on glass in the Xie Zilong Photography Museum, Changsha. Photo by K Hsu.

Signal Iduna Park: a legend made of concrete, steel and passion – and a lesson in urban stadium art that is much more than just soccer architecture. Anyone talking about the future of large public buildings cannot ignore Dortmund’s soccer temple. Why? Because it combines urban planning vision, digital transformation and sustainable architecture in one stadium – and because every architect who plans stadiums today must be measured against this unique building.

  • Signal Iduna Park is the largest stadium in Germany and the epitome of modern stadium architecture.
  • The evolution from a pure soccer arena to an urban multifunctional venue is a textbook example of contemporary urban planning.
  • Digital technologies and AI-supported tools are revolutionizing operations, security and the fan experience.
  • Sustainability remains both a challenge and a driver of innovation – from energy efficiency to the circular economy.
  • Today, planners and operators need far more than just floor plan knowledge: Data competence, process understanding and the courage to have visions.
  • The discussion about commercialization, identity and urbanity is shaping the architectural debate surrounding stadiums.
  • Signal Iduna Park is an example of the global transformation of sports venues into urban hubs.
  • The future lies in integrative, digital and resilient stadium concepts – with Dortmund as a blueprint.

Stadium architecture today: between goosebumps and infrastructure machine

Anyone standing in Signal Iduna Park for the first time immediately senses that it’s not just about soccer. The concentrated energy of the “Yellow Wall” has long since become a symbol for a new generation of stadiums. But while fans celebrate ecstatically, planners, architects and operators have completely different tasks to deal with. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, stadium architecture has matured in recent decades from a pure sports venue to an urban infrastructure machine. The days of pure concrete bowls are over. Today, a stadium has to be multifunctional, permeable and integrated into the urban space. Signal Iduna Park shows how a building not only creates identity, but also functions as an urban hotspot – from an event space to a mobility hub.

Technical development is progressing rapidly. Modern arenas have long since become networked ecosystems in which digital control, security technology, building automation and visitor analytics go hand in hand. In Dortmund, the stadium has been repeatedly expanded, adapted and technically upgraded over the decades – from the renovation of the stands to the integration of digital access systems and high-speed WiFi for 80,000 people. This is not a luxury, but the standard for large-scale urban buildings, which must function as catalysts for urban development. The trend is similar in Austria and Switzerland, albeit often on a smaller scale and with greater integration into the respective urban landscape. The fundamental challenge remains: How can architecture, technology and urban society be successfully combined in a stadium project?

Signal Iduna Park is not only an architectural focus, but also a social laboratory. New forms of fan participation, mobility concepts and even neighborhood dialogues are being tested here. A stadium as a city in miniature is a reality in Dortmund. But not all that glitters is gold: the debate about commercialization, noise protection, traffic flows and sustainability is in full swing. While cities such as Munich or Basel think of new stadiums as urban development projects, Dortmund remains a pioneer for emotional identity and urban density. The big question: how can this balance between myth and machine also be ensured in future buildings?

Today, planners are faced with the task of designing far more than just grandstands. It is about quality of stay, integration into the urban context, sustainable choice of materials and technical resilience. Signal Iduna Park provides numerous blueprints for this: from the design of the fan curves to traffic logistics and flexible event areas. The architectural debate always revolves around the question of how much stadium a district can take – and how much city a stadium needs. The answer lies somewhere between urban planning courage and technical finesse.

In Switzerland, for example, new arenas are often part of larger development areas; in Austria, small but fine stadiums shape the local identity. But an international comparison shows: Anyone who understands stadium architecture as part of urban transformation inevitably ends up in Dortmund. There, stadium construction is becoming an art form – with all the opportunities and risks for urban planners, architects and investors.

Digital transformation: when the stadium becomes a smart arena

Signal Iduna Park is not only physically impressive, but also a digital pioneer. While soccer fans are still discussing the VAR, planners have long been working with digital twins, AI-supported visitor control and real-time data. In practice, this means that sensor technology measures visitor flows, controls air conditioning and optimizes security concepts. Digitalization turns the stadium into a learning system that can react flexibly to weather, capacity and threats. Such smart stadium approaches are still rare in Germany and Switzerland, but they are becoming the new standard. Dortmund shows how digital tools not only make operations more efficient, but also personalize the experience for visitors.

A look behind the scenes reveals: Where a stadium attendant with a bunch of keys used to rule, AI systems now monitor access control, fire safety and escape routes. Predictive maintenance, i.e. the predictive maintenance of building technology, has long been part of everyday life. Energy requirements, water consumption and waste volumes are analyzed and optimized in real time. This saves costs and resources – and increases reliability during operation. For architects and operators, this means a new form of responsibility: they must not only build, but also think digitally. The necessary expertise ranges from data analysis to IT security.

Digitalization also opens up new scope for sustainability. Intelligent control systems adapt lighting, heating and ventilation to actual needs. Smart mobility solutions guide travel, reduce emissions and relieve the burden on the neighborhood. Dortmund was an early adopter of digital visitor guidance, mobile ticketing systems and automated access control – a model that is now also being copied in Vienna and Zurich. The trick is to dovetail technology and architecture in such a way that they reinforce each other. Not everything that is digital is automatically better. But without digitalization, a stadium is simply no longer up to date.

Of course, there are also risks. Dependence on IT infrastructure, data protection issues and the danger of technocratic overcontrol are real challenges. Critics warn of the transparent fan, algorithmic discrimination and the commercialization of experience data. Architects and operators are called upon to ensure transparency and control. Signal Iduna Park relies on openness and dialog – an approach that should set a precedent. Because only if fans, the city and operators work together to build the digital future will the stadium remain a space for experiences and not just a data mine.

Ultimately, the digital transformation is turning the stadium into an urban hub that extends far beyond sport. Anyone shaping this transformation must think about technology, space and people together – and keep asking themselves who actually owns the new stadium. Dortmund has found a pretty clear answer to this question: It belongs to everyone who fills it with life.

Sustainability and the circular economy: from energy guzzler to green role model?

Stadiums have long been regarded as ecological problem cases. Huge concrete buildings, high emissions, energy wastage – the image was bad, the reality often even worse. But Signal Iduna Park is an example of how sustainability and stadium construction can go hand in hand today. Even during the numerous extensions and conversions, the planners focused on resource-saving materials, reuse and energy efficiency. Photovoltaic systems, rainwater harvesting and intelligent building technology have long been standard. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, such measures are now mandatory – but Dortmund remains a reference point for innovative solutions.

A central topic is the circular economy. Signal Iduna Park demonstrates how components can be replaced on a modular basis, resources recovered and building materials recycled. This is not only ecologically sensible, but also economically attractive. Anyone planning stadiums today has to keep an eye on the entire life cycle: from the choice of materials to the construction phase and dismantling. This is where technical expertise pays off. Architects, civil engineers and operators need a deep understanding of sustainable building materials, energy and waste management and the integration of renewable energies.

The challenges are enormous: a stadium is an energy guzzler if it is operated incorrectly. Only intelligent concepts that combine architecture, technology and user behavior can effectively reduce emissions and resource consumption. In Dortmund, LED technology, efficient heating systems and sustainable mobility concepts were implemented early on. Cooperation with the city, local companies and research institutions creates synergies that extend far beyond the stadium walls. In this way, Signal Iduna Park is becoming a testing ground for urban sustainability.

Of course, there is also criticism. The construction of new stadiums still devours vast amounts of raw materials, and the “green stadium” often remains a marketing promise. But the trend is clear: without sustainability, there will be no more acceptance – neither from urban society nor from fans or investors. The pressure is growing to deliver real innovations instead of just collecting certificates. The discussion is similar in Austria and Switzerland, where sustainability is often considered on a smaller scale, with a focus on regional value creation and social integration.

A look at Signal Iduna Park shows this: Sustainability is not an add-on, but an integral part of modern stadium architecture. Anyone planning today must minimize the ecological footprint and break new ground in the process. From urban farming on the stadium roof to zero-emission operation – the visions are there. The challenge now is to implement them without losing the myth of the stadium.

Architectural discourse and global debates: How much city can a stadium take?

Signal Iduna Park not only stands for architecture, but also for a heated debate: How much city is actually in the stadium – and how much stadium does the city need? While in other countries mega arenas are built as solitary structures on greenfield sites, Dortmund focuses on integration, identity and urbanity. The stadium is part of urban life, a transportation hub, a meeting place and a symbol of cohesion. This fusion of architecture and urban development is causing a stir internationally. Similar concepts are being discussed in Vienna, Basel and Zurich, but Dortmund remains a defining style.

Criticism of the commercialization of stadiums is omnipresent. Naming rights, VIP boxes, event areas – the balance between economic success and social responsibility is a constant balancing act. Signal Iduna Park shows that identity and authenticity are also possible in a commercially used stadium. The architecture plays its part in this: Visual axes, open facades, flexible use and the famous standing grandstand as a haven for fan culture. Such elements are not a minor matter, but the core of modern stadium art.

Digitalization and sustainability bring new challenges to the architectural discourse. What happens when algorithms decide on admission, security and comfort? How much technology can the stadium experience tolerate without dehumanizing it? And how can ecological and social goals be reconciled with economic requirements? Signal Iduna Park is a laboratory for these questions – it shows that innovation and authenticity need not be a contradiction in terms. But it also shows that it takes courage to break new ground.

Internationally, people look to Dortmund. FIFA, UEFA and numerous architecture firms use the stadium as a reference for competitions, studies and research projects. The global debate is increasingly revolving around urban integration, flexibility and resilience. Today, stadiums have to be able to do more than just play soccer: they are event spaces, mobility hubs, green lungs and social meeting places. Signal Iduna Park embodies this development in a unique way.

The question remains: What will the stadium of the future look like? Modular, digital, sustainable and open to all – these are the industry buzzwords. Dortmund is well on the way to making this vision a reality. Any architect, planner or operator who wants to be an international player today cannot ignore the lessons learned in the Ruhr region. Signal Iduna Park is more than just a stadium – it is a statement for urban stadium art in the 21st century.

Conclusion: Signal Iduna Park as a blueprint for the stadium architecture of tomorrow

Signal Iduna Park is not a relic, but a laboratory for the future of urban stadium art. Here, architecture, technology and urban society merge to create a unique experience that goes far beyond soccer. Digitalization, sustainability and urban integration are no longer options, but a must for all those who build stadiums today – in Germany, Austria, Switzerland and worldwide. Anyone who studies Signal Iduna Park learns that stadium construction is more than just engineering. It is about identity, community and the ability to rethink the city. The arena in Dortmund thus remains both a benchmark and a reminder: you can build a stadium as a machine – or as a work of art for the city. The choice is ours.

“Enthusiasm, team spirit, courage and willingness to learn.”

Building design

The founders of AllesWirdGut Architektur are Friedrich Passler

Four students, three cities, four offices – every year, the Baumeister Academy sends talented architecture students to work in renowned offices. But who is actually behind it and what do the architects get out of our program? We ask: this time at AllesWirdGut Architektur, who took part in the Baumeister Academy for the first time in 2019. Franzisca Rainalter is already in the starting blocks, her […]

Four students, three cities, four offices – every year, the Baumeister Academy sends talented architecture students to work in renowned offices. But who is actually behind it and what do the architects get out of our program? We ask: this time at AllesWirdGut Architektur, who took part in the Baumeister Academy for the first time in 2019. Franzisca Rainalter is already in the starting blocks, her six-month internship at AllesWirdGut Architektur begins in September. We met her future boss Andreas Marth and talked to him about his work and the next generation of architects.

Our Academy winner Franzisca Rainalter starts her six-month internship at AWG on September 1st. If you could/had to do an internship in an office again today. Where would you go?
Definitely to AllesWirdGut – to Vienna or Munich!

And why should you go to AWG?
In addition to a varied insight into the world of work and everyday architecture, we also offer all interns the opportunity to improve their own cooking skills. In addition to working in the various project teams, one of the tasks is to support our cook in the canteen for a week ata time. In addition to healthy, home-cooked food, you will also receive valuable tips on how to use a knife and fork!

The internship is also a good opportunity to introduce yourself to us and the office, to prove yourself and to make a lasting impression. For us, these six months offer an excellent opportunity to get to know good and talented students better – we are happy to make use of this when looking for and acquiring future employees.
Many in our team started as interns/volunteers and have returned to our team as employees after completing their studies and are now a permanent part of our team.

This is your first time at the Baumeister Academy. Why are you taking part?
Because we believe that the Academy creates a win-win situation for both sides and because we hope to get to know and appreciate excellent new people along the way.

What do you expect from your trainees?
Enthusiasm, team spirit, courage and a willingness to learn.

Can the absolute beginners, those who have just come from university and are starting in your office, do anything? What do they lack?
Beginners are characterized by a certain naivety and impartiality in their approach to projects and problems. We really appreciate that!
One of our office’s recipes for success has always been that we look for unconventional solutions and are certainly not satisfied with the first answer and solution that comes along – another reason why we never wanted to specialize in one area or typology with our office and work in as broad a field as possible.

“It’s always been like this, it has to be like this again” is a killer of any progress and any design concept. That’s why we also see problems as potential – because they force us to break out of established and familiar thought patterns.
Solutions and concepts are discussed with the respective project teams in weekly workshops. Everyone can contribute to this discussion and help shape it directly and immediately – in the end, it’s all about working out and honing the best idea, and we don’t care whether this idea is put forward by a senior architect or an intern.

“Definitely nine-to-five – or even shorter if we can get the ideas down on paper faster!”

Are you more the “nine-to-five” type or more the “eleven-to-midnight” type? And what about overtime in the office?
Definitely nine-to-five – or even shorter if you can get the ideas down on paper faster!
We have largely flexible working hours and are certainly not workaholics (anymore). Of course, there are deadlines, deadlines and the occasional pressure of deadlines, where things can get longer – but any overtime is compensated for at short notice.
Ideas and creativity require periods of relaxation and plenty of time to be inspired. This doesn’t happen if we just sit at a desk or behind a computer.

What caused the last big argument?
The great thing about our office partnership is that we haven’t had a big argument in 20 years. Of course, we discuss a lot and don’t always agree – but in what is now our “longest relationship”, we have always been able to agree on major decisions without arguing or voting. That is certainly a stroke of luck!

Generalist or specialist? What does a young architect need to be today?
Generalist and all-rounder!

“When we founded our office 20 years ago as fresh graduates, we couldn’t have imagined in our wildest dreams where we are today with our 80-strong team.”

What has been your greatest success?
AllesWirdGut!
When we jumped in at the deep end 20 years ago as fresh graduates straight out of university, inexperienced and naïve, and founded our office, we could never have imagined where we are today with our 80-strong team. And we are looking forward to developing this further.

You’ve been in the architecture business for a long time. Is there anything that can still surprise you today?
An open and enthusiastic counterpart (client, craftsmen, etc.), who is open to ideas and concepts, surprises us again and again – but at the same time it is also the stroke of luck that makes us still passionate about designing and building.

Your tip for budding architects?
Open your eyes and ears – and get out into the world!

The Baumeister Academy is an internship project of the architecture magazine Baumeister and is supported by GRAPHISOFT and BAU 2019.