Transformative Interstices – New Perspectives on the “Unplanned”

Building design
A bird's eye view of a traffic circle in a city as a symbol of transformative intermediate spaces and urban dynamics.
How urban residual spaces are becoming laboratories for innovation and diversity

Interstitial spaces are the city’s unsung heroes—they slip in between buildings, under bridges, along railroad tracks, and into gaps that no one ever planned for. What many consider wild no-man’s-land turns out, upon closer inspection, to be a laboratory for urban innovation, social movement, and ecological diversity. Anyone who views “unplanned” spaces merely as leftover areas misses out on the most exciting stories of urban development and the greatest opportunities for transformation.

  • Definition and Significance of Urban Interstitial Spaces in the Context of Contemporary Urban Planning
  • Historical development and cultural perception of the “unplanned” in the city
  • Mechanisms and potential for transformation: From brownfields to creative uses
  • Strategies and challenges in integrating interstitial spaces into sustainable urban development
  • Case studies and best-practice examples from Germany, Austria, and Switzerland
  • The Role of Participation, Interim Use, and Temporary Architecture
  • Ecological, social, and economic values of unplanned spaces
  • Risks of Commercialization and the Displacement of Informal Uses
  • Perspectives for Future Planning Approaches and the Understanding of Urbanity

What Are Interstitial Spaces? The Unplanned as a Resource of the City

In classical urban planning, interstitial spaces were long regarded as “blank spots” on the map, as remnants of supposedly flawed planning, or as evidence of stagnation and disinterest. Yet this perspective falls far short of the mark. Interstitial spaces are those areas that elude direct designation for a specific purpose: railroad embankments, overgrown lots, forgotten backyards, brownfields, residual areas along transportation corridors, and unused building complexes. They are often the result of economic shifts, structural change, or simply planning errors. Yet it is precisely in their indeterminacy and openness that their greatest potential lies.

Interstitial spaces are spaces of possibility. They offer room for experimentation, for temporary uses, for spontaneous interventions, and for social and ecological innovations. While planned parks and squares structure everyday urban life, interstitial spaces invite people to experiment, linger, and transform. They serve as a stage for processes that elude control: unplanned growth, graffiti, guerrilla gardening, neighborhood festivals, and urban art often emerge where urban planning turns a blind eye—or chooses not to look.

However, it would be a mistake to view interstitial spaces as mere “empty spaces.” They are not simply what remains once the city is “finished.” Rather, they are fundamental components of the urban fabric—dynamic zones where urban society and nature converge. They allow us to experiment with new forms of appropriation and coexistence, beyond the logic of investors and the pressure to exploit space. Those who understand these interstitial spaces understand the city as an organism, not as a machine.

The concept of the “unplanned” is by no means negative. Rather, it refers to a quality that is often lost in the rigid framework of classical urban planning: flexibility, openness, and unpredictability. It is precisely these unplanned places that lend the city the vibrancy and diversity that make it so fascinating. They challenge planners to think in terms of processes rather than products—and to embrace the adventure that is the city.

The appreciation of in-between spaces is by no means a marginal phenomenon. Among international experts, they are discussed as key resources for resilient, sustainable, and inclusive urban development. Interstitial spaces are not the opposite of planning, but rather its necessary complement. They serve as buffer zones against monoculture, overdevelopment, and displacement—and provide a stage for the “unexpected.”

Historical and Cultural Perspectives: Interstitial Spaces Through the Ages

The history of in-between spaces is as old as the city itself—and at least as fascinating. Even in ancient Rome, there were vacant lots between the insulae that served as meeting places, markets, or gardens. In the Middle Ages, these were the “commons” and “village greens,” communal open spaces on the outskirts of settlements. But with modernity and the functionalist urban planning of the 20th century, interstitial spaces were increasingly viewed as flaws, as disruptive elements in the grid of the perfect city.

The Athens Charter and the ideas of the car-friendly city emphasized clear zoning and the separation of living, working, and recreation. Anything that did not fit the scheme was eliminated or ignored as “disorder.” It was only with the critique of this functionalist logic—by authors such as Jane Jacobs and Jan Gehl—that the “spaces in between” returned to the forefront of urban research. Jacobs’ famous statement, “Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody,” sums it up: The quality of a city often lies in the unplanned, in the interplay of many small open spaces.

The cultural perception of unplanned spaces fluctuates between fascination and rejection. While temporarily repurposed brownfields in Berlin, Vienna, or Zurich are celebrated as hotspots of the creative scene, elsewhere they are regarded as eyesores or places that instill fear. The media and pop culture also play a role: these in-between spaces are sometimes romanticized as “lost places” and other times stigmatized as “problem zones.” This ambivalence reflects society’s approach to uncertainty and change.

In the 1990s, “temporary use” emerged as a distinct planning and participatory tool. Projects such as the “Kalkbreite” in Zurich, the “Praterinsel” in Munich, or the “Holzmarkt” in Berlin demonstrate how innovative neighborhoods can emerge from seemingly worthless spaces. The transformation of industrial brownfields into urban gardens, cultural centers, or communal housing projects became the model for a new, open approach to urban development.

Today, in-between spaces are experiencing a renaissance—not as a problem, but as a resource. The debate surrounding the “post-pandemic city” has shown how important flexible, informal, and low-threshold open spaces are for the social and ecological balance of urban areas. Interstitial spaces are an expression of a culture of change, appropriation, and resilience—and pose a challenge to planners, policymakers, and society alike.

Potential for Transformation: From Brownfield to Urban Laboratory

The transformation of unplanned interstitial spaces into productive, livable, and innovative places is one of the greatest challenges and opportunities in contemporary urban development. This is where it becomes clear whether planning can do more than just deal with regulations and property lines—whether it is ready to facilitate processes rather than merely deliver end products. The potential of such transformations is diverse, ranging from ecological enhancement to social inclusion and economic revitalization.

From an ecological perspective, interstitial spaces are often biodiversity hotspots. Where humans withdraw, pioneer plants, insects, and birds settle in. Even small fallow areas can serve as stepping stones in the urban biotope network, as refuges for rare species, or as green corridors between parks and gardens. Examples such as the “Gleiswildnis” in Munich or the “Park am Gleisdreieck” in Berlin show how former railway facilities can be transformed into species-rich natural areas that are surprisingly valuable to city dwellers.

Socially, these in-between spaces offer room for appropriation, encounter, and participation. They are low-threshold places that require no admission ticket, impose no obligation to consume, and dictate no fixed rules. Especially in highly densely populated neighborhoods, they are the last refuges for informal activities: Children use them as adventure playgrounds, young people as places of retreat, and community initiatives as venues for festivals, flea markets, or urban gardening. For marginalized groups, too, such spaces are often vital—they offer visibility, protection, and the opportunity to engage with the city.

Economically, these in-between spaces are increasingly being recognized as sources of innovation. They offer niches for startups, studios, workshops, or pop-up restaurants—all at rents that even young companies can afford. At the same time, they serve as testing grounds for new mobility concepts, sharing models, or sustainable construction methods. Where the traditional development chain reaches its limits, space opens up for experimentation and new business models. The “circular city” often begins precisely where the market fails.

However, transforming these in-between spaces requires a delicate touch. Not every vacant lot needs to be developed immediately, nor does every instance of unplanned growth need to be curbed. It often makes more sense to identify, preserve, and moderate potential rather than hastily “cleaning up” these spaces. Participation here is not a luxury but a prerequisite for sustainable success. Only when residents, users, and owners work together on development can places emerge that function sustainably and gain acceptance.

At the same time, dangers lurk: The commercialization of unplanned spaces can lead to the displacement of informal uses and a restriction of social diversity. Those who view interstitial spaces solely as investment opportunities destroy their unique qualities. That is why we need guidelines, innovative participatory formats, and a planning culture that can tolerate the unfinished—and views it as a resource.

Strategies and Challenges: Integrating the Unplanned into Urban Development

Integrating interstitial spaces into formal urban development is a balancing act. On the one hand, there is enormous potential—for climate adaptation, social integration, the creative economy, and urban resilience. On the other hand, planners face the task of maintaining the fragile balance between openness and control, between appropriation and order. Integrating the unplanned requires new tools, processes, and, above all, attitudes.

A key tool is interim use—the temporary, often experimental use of spaces or buildings before permanent development begins. It makes it possible to test new ideas, involve local stakeholders, and highlight the value of places that would otherwise remain dormant. Successful interim use projects such as “NUN” in Linz, the “Alte Feuerwache” in Cologne, or the “Kulturbahnhof” in St. Gallen demonstrate how flexible timeframes, low barriers to entry, and collaborative processes can spur sustainable urban development.

Participation is another key issue. Interstitial spaces are ideal as testing grounds for new participatory formats—from open-space conferences and citizen juries to digital participatory platforms. Here, classic conflicts of interest can be openly negotiated, unusual alliances forged, and innovative solutions developed. Those who take participation seriously must be willing to relinquish control and facilitate processes rather than dominate them.

A particular challenge lies in ensuring accessibility and diversity. Interstitial spaces are vulnerable—they can quickly be privatized, fenced off, or overused. Planners and city administrations must therefore develop mechanisms that guarantee openness and equality while also preventing abuse and displacement. This calls for legal instruments such as ground leases, urban development contracts, or cooperative management structures that safeguard the common good without restricting creativity.

Ultimately, integrating the unplanned is a matter of attitude. It requires planners to have the courage to let go of control, to be open to uncertainty, and to be willing to question their own routines. The traditional logic of master plans and zoning plans reaches its limits here. Sustainable urban development needs tools that can handle ambiguity, change, and contradictions—and that view the in-between spaces not as a shortcoming, but as a resource.

This also requires a new understanding of professionalism. Today, those working in urban development are less “doers” than facilitators, less technocrats than enablers. The art lies in shaping processes, opening up spaces, and productively negotiating conflicts—while consistently allowing for the surprising and the unexpected.

Interstitial Spaces as Laboratories for the Future: Perspectives for a Transformative Planning Culture

The future of the city is open—and will be decided in the in-between spaces. They are the laboratory for a new planning culture that focuses not only on perfection, but also on process, diversity, and change. Anyone who wants to shape transformative in-between spaces must be willing to question routines, forge alliances, and experiment with new forms of collaboration.

A key approach is the consistent opening up of planning processes. Interstitial spaces should be understood as a resource from the outset and integrated into development strategies. This means involving informal actors early on, establishing cooperative procedures, and enabling flexible uses. Cities such as Zurich, Basel, and Freiburg demonstrate that a proactive policy on in-between spaces promotes not only creativity but also social cohesion and ecological innovation.

Technological developments such as digital city models, participatory mapping tools, and urban sensor technology can help reveal potential and create a transparent basis for decision-making. But technology alone is not enough. What matters most is the mindset: interstitial spaces must be understood as places for learning, experimentation, and negotiation—not as gaps to be filled as quickly as possible.

The danger of commercialization remains. More and more investors are recognizing the image potential of informal spaces and attempting to capitalize on their creativity. Here, it is up to the urban community to formulate clear rules and ensure that the common good remains the priority. Only in this way will in-between spaces remain places of diversity, openness, and innovation—and not become mere backdrops for the next trend.

Ultimately, transformative in-between spaces are not a matter of chance, but of courage. They require planners who are willing to take risks, administrations that facilitate rather than dictate processes, and citizens who get involved and take responsibility. The city of the future will emerge where planning and the unplanned come together productively—and where we give these in-between spaces the stage they deserve.

Conclusion: Interstitial Spaces—the Unplanned Heart of the City

Interstitial spaces are far more than gaps in the urban fabric. They are the places where urbanity constantly reinvents itself, where social and ecological innovations emerge, and where the “unplanned” unleashes its productive power. Anyone who takes urban development seriously must view in-between spaces as a resource—as a laboratory for new ideas, a stage for diversity, and a catalyst for transformation. It takes courage, openness, and professional curiosity to unlock this potential and shape sustainable urban development. The future of the city lies not in a master plan, but in creatively dealing with the unpredictable. Interstitial spaces are at the heart of urban transformation—and the city’s wisest planners have long known this.

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44 residential units in Saint-Denis from DREAM

Building design

The new building with 44 residential units by DREAM. Photo: Cyrille Weiner

Two decades after the devastating fire in a dilapidated residential building on Rue Fraizier in Saint-Denis, a new construction project marks a turning point in the urban development of the north of Paris. The Parisian agency DREAM (Dimitri Roussel) has realized a residential ensemble with 44 units there – half for rent, half as subsidized ownership according to the “Bail Réel Solidaire” (BRS) model. It is the first project of its kind in Saint-Denis. However, the ambitious gesture is less about architectural showmanship and more about functional, mass-produced housing that strives for social integration.

The new building stands on a site that has been derelict since the fire in 2001. The fire at the time drastically exposed the dilapidated conditions in the old building, which was being used by shark tenants. The ensuing vacancy was perceived not only as a physical defect, but also as a social one. DREAM now sees the project as a contribution to “repairing” the neighborhood – and to re-establishing trust in the urban space.

The 44 residential units are spread across several buildings and follow a clear principle: as much individuality as possible within the standardized production. Almost all of the apartments are open-plan, with many facing in several directions. The majority have generous outdoor spaces – balconies or gardens at ground level. Interior qualities have also been considered: separate entrance areas with storage space, daylight kitchens that can be closed off if required and large window openings with panoramic views are all part of the repertoire.

The floor plan design is based on the charter of Plaine Commune, the inter-municipal association responsible for the area. The urban positioning of the buildings responds to morphological and climatic analyses of the site. A typical planning response is, for example, the staggering and orientation of the volumes to optimize daylight and natural ventilation.

In terms of design, DREAM dispenses with design experiments. Instead, the architectural expression arises from the materiality and rhythm of the façade. Wooden slats, metal panels and open balcony structures made from a combination of wood and metal structure the outer shell. Great importance was attached to prefabrication: The timber frame construction walls, including cladding, windows and shading elements, were manufactured entirely in the factory. The self-supporting balconies also arrived on site pre-assembled.

This strategy has several advantages: Firstly, it increases the quality of execution, and secondly, it reduces the construction time – a factor that plays a particular role in the densely built-up and socially sensitive Saint-Denis. All in all, the result is a residential building that relies on CO₂-reduced construction methods without playing this off visually.

What is striking about the project is the effort to establish communal zones alongside the private living space – a concept that is often referred to elsewhere as “third places”. In Saint-Denis, the elements are simple but effective: a large, inviting entrance area, green inner courtyards with passageways and roof gardens that serve as places to retreat and meet. The lobbies act as semi-public buffer zones between the street and the apartments. Visual references to the courtyard are intended to provide not only light but also social control.

The whole project was designed in collaboration with the public housing association Plaine Commune Habitat. The aim is to appeal to a heterogeneous group of residents – both people on low incomes and young families who want to build up property through the BRS model.

With a construction cost of around seven million euros and a living space of 2,775 square meters (SHAB), the project is within the scope of what is feasible in a subsidized context. The “NF Habitat” certification and compliance with the French thermal insulation regulation RT 2012 with a 20 percent reduction underline the ecological focus.

Those involved in the project include Bollinger+Grohmann (structural engineering), ENEOR (building services), Le Sommer (certification) and Topager for the landscape architecture. Cap-Exe was responsible for coordinating the various trades.

What can be deduced from the project in Saint-Denis for the current housing debate? Certainly not a new type. Rather, it shows how a combination of solid planning, serial production and municipal control can make a contribution to sustainable urban development – beyond creative exaggeration, but also without falling into banal functionality.

The architecture remains restrained but deliberate. It unfolds its effect through everyday use – as a place to live, to meet and to reappropriate a long-neglected urban space.

Read also: The Saint-Denis Pleyel Station by Kengo Kuma.

Ukraine war: Мы за мир

Building design

As a result of the war in Ukraine, the European architecture scene has quickly taken a public stand against the Russian war of aggression. G+L also stands in solidarity with the Ukrainian people and government.

BIG, David Chipperfield Architects, Foster + Partners, gmp, Herzog und de Meuron, MVRDV, OMA, Snøhetta, Zaha Hadid Architects – as a result of the war in Ukraine, which violates international law, the who’s who of the European architecture scene publicly opposed the Russian war of aggression in a very short space of time at the end of February/beginning of March 2022. Within just a few days, numerous offices expressed their solidarity with the people in Ukraine and with all those who stand for peaceful coexistence – above all via social media. In the case of Chipperfield, HdM, OMA and Zaha Hadid, the public statements were followed by an immediate halt to all construction projects in Russia. BIG also announced in a statement that the office would not be carrying out any projects in Russia or for the Russian government. However, it is not clear from this whether a construction freeze has been imposed or whether there are simply no Russian projects currently in progress.

First the governments, then the private sector. Today, our globalized world also makes it possible for corporations, companies or even planning offices to impose sanctions. So while Apple, Siemens, Starbucks, McDonalds, Coca-Cola, Pepsi and the management consultancies KPMG, PWC, EY and Deloitte are suspending their business in Russia as a result of the war of aggression, or Elon Musk is actively supporting Ukraine with the help of his satellite internet service Starlink, including reception systems, the world of architecture is also drawing its own conclusions. This is worth a special look, as it was or is precisely non-democratic regimes such as Russia or China that have provided the big star offices with unique construction projects in recent years. The M+ Hong Kong designed by HdM only opened at the end of 2021. While at the turn of the year in Moscow, the Renzo Piano Building Workshop RPBW converted the GES-2 power station into a center for visual and performing arts for the V-A-C Art Foundation.

Jacques Herzog on democratic architecture

For us in the editorial team, this immediately (and once again) triggers the question of how political planning can be, but also how political planning must be. What is exciting in this context is that Jacques Herzog in particular has repeatedly publicly addressed the question of democratic architecture. You can think what you like of him and the HdM projects, but he takes a stand. As he did in an interview in 2020 with Lukas Gruntz from architekturbasel.ch. Referring to the historic urban development of St. Petersburg, Venice, Rome and Paris, he said here: “Perhaps more beauty is created in a non-democratic context because the context is more extreme, more radical.” But he also continued: “From our point of view, an enlightened and democratic society, architecture must be anchored in the population and ideally emerge from the needs of the population.” Sentences that should make us think. Now more than ever.

Ukraine war: Coop Himmelb(l)au under pressure over Crimea project

Lighthouse projects in non-democratic regimes must be better considered in future. I wonder what is going through Wolf D. Prix’s head at Coop Himmelb(l)au right now? His office was criticized even before the war of aggression. Since 2020, the Viennese have been planning two of the four cultural buildings that Vladimir Putin wants to be built by 2023. The particularly tricky case is the planned opera house on the Crimean peninsula, which was annexed by Russian occupiers in 2014 in violation of international law(more on this in an SZ-Plus article). With reference to the lighthouse project, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky imposed economic sanctions against the Viennese architecture firm and six of its representatives on January 21, 2022.

Wolf D. Prix: Coop Himmelb(l)au is building an opera house, not barracks

According to an SZ.de article by Gerhard Matzig, who interviewed Prix on the subject, this was preceded a year and a half ago by threats from the Ukrainian embassy to Coop Himmelb(l)au. Prix would not be allowed to build the opera house in Sevastopol or the architectural firm would soon be ruined. And according to Gerhard Matzig in his article, Prix has now also been advised to distance himself from the project and Putin. When asked by Matzig whether he would do so, Wolf D. Prix sighed on the phone. Prix is of the opinion that he is not building a barracks, but an opera house. As a cultural project, this is not subject to the embargo regulations. Unsurprisingly, as of mid-March 2022, Coop Himmelb(l)au still has no statement on the Ukraine war.

Ukraine war: Russian planners make their mark

But now back to those who openly oppose the war. Because it’s not just the European star offices that are flying the flag. According to SZ.de, a total of 6,500 Russian architects, designers and urban planners also signed an open letter on the website of the Russian architecture magazine “Project Russia” between February 26 and March 4, 2022, calling for an immediate end to the war. The tragedy is that this appeal also fell victim to the “fake news” law against critical reporting on the Russian army signed by Vladimir Putin on March 4, 2022. Only a short version of the campaign with a picture of a dove of peace can now be seen on the site. It says here in Russian: “Unfortunately, we were forced to remove the text of the letter under threat of criminal liability under the law that came into force today. We are for peace!”

One profession, one passion

Meanwhile, however, the Union of Architects of Ukraine also called on the International Union of Architects to expel the Union of Architects of Russia from the organization. “Those who do not condemn Russia’s actions support them,” the Süddeutsche Zeitung quotes the President of the National Union of Architects of Ukraine, Oleksandr Chyzhevsky, as saying in a letter to the UIA. If you let this statement sink in, you have to ask yourself – even if you condemn Russia’s actions in the strongest possible terms – whether we really want to live in a world in which people from one industry, one profession, one passion, go against each other simply because of their nationality. For this very reason, the G+L editorial team would like to join our Russian colleagues: Мы за мир. We are for peace. And we condemn the Russian government’s attack on Ukraine, which violates international law, and stand in solidarity with the Ukrainian people and government.

Ukraine war: bdla and BAK also active

While German landscape architecture firms are still quite reluctant to express their solidarity, the bdla published an official solidarity statement #StandWithUkraine on March 2, 2022. The bdla declared its “deepest regret about the war in Ukraine, the loss of human lives.” It condemns this attack, which violates international law. The bdla’s thoughts are particularly with its colleagues from its partner association, the Guild of Landscape Architects of Ukraine. In the same letter, the bdla refers to the initiative of the Federal Chamber of Architects. This has set itself the goal of becoming active beyond expressions of solidarity. For this reason, the BAK is making its network available to the Ukrainian Association of Architects. The goal: sleeping places for refugees. Find out more here.