Aristides Dallas
An Architect’s Eye

What is the first building that you loved?

When I was around five years old, I visited a vacation complex with my grandparents. I remember being struck by how different it was from any other building I had seen. It sparked curiosity in me, leading to a flood of “why” questions. My grandma, after trying to answer them all, finally said, “Because an architect made it.” That simple response left a deep impression on me and planted the seed of becoming an architect myself.

How did you foster your newfound interest?

In Greece, we have a tradition where your godmother gifts you a special candle for Easter. That year, I asked her for a candle with a ruler on it—something that, to me back then, symbolized the act of measuring buildings. From then on, I began to look at buildings with a more attentive eye, imagining how I could design spaces myself one day.

Athens is a lucky place to be a kid interested in buildings. How did you start seeing things differently?

When you’re a child, everything is a mystery—you’re full of questions and wonder. But it’s not until you start studying that you begin to see the world with more understanding. For me, university was truly life-changing. It opened my eyes to the deeper layers of what architecture really is.

How did university change things for you?

In my first class at architecture school in Athens, the very first exercise was to simply go outside and observe—just look at the city around you and take notes on whatever catches your attention. Later, we would go out with the professor, who would point out things we had overlooked. This simple exercise taught me to see beyond the surface and notice the details that make up the fabric of a place. Little by little, you begin to develop what I would call an “architect’s eye,” a way of seeing that shapes everything you do.

You say you’re defined by your travels. Tell us about that.

When I started university, I felt an intense need to explore the world beyond my studies. At 19, my family faced financial difficulties—my father went bankrupt. To keep studying and pursue my passion for travel, I took on two jobs. I spent twenty hours a day working and studying, with just a few hours left for sleep. But whatever little extra money I earned, I saved for travel. I made it a priority, taking trips to America, Asia, and many other places. These experiences truly shaped me. They opened my eyes to different cultures, perspectives, and ways of living, which in turn helped me grow both as a person and as an architect.

Do you feel that you need to an architect needs to really understand the location to be able to design a building for that place?

I believe that an architect needs to understand two fundamental things: the client and the place. It’s easy to fall into the trap of designing something that reflects your own vision more than the client’s needs—something I found myself doing in my early days. When you’re full of enthusiasm, it can be difficult to find the right balance. But with time, you learn that the real art of architecture is in letting go of your own ego and allowing the project to fully belong to the client.

What is it like to let go?

Letting go is a bit like watching your child grow up and move out—it leaves a certain emptiness. When you design a building, you pour your heart into every detail, nurturing it through every stage of construction. But then, once it’s finished, the client steps in and starts making it their own. They might add furniture you wouldn’t have chosen, or rearrange the layout. It’s a strange feeling, watching something you’ve cared for so deeply change in ways you didn’t envision. But this is also where you find beauty—seeing how your creation evolves to meet the needs and personalities of those who live in it.

And what about the location?

Location is the second key element. To design a building that truly belongs to its place, you need to understand everything about the location: its history, culture, landscape, climate, and the orientation of the plot. It’s like assembling a puzzle with many different pieces. You also have to think about the future—how the building will interact with its environment as time goes on. This understanding of place, combined with a deep connection to the client, is what allows a building to truly resonate with its surroundings and the people who inhabit it.

What do you consider when you think about the future?

I often ask myself: What if this design were repeated across an entire city? If we copied and pasted the house we designed, what kind of city would that create? This thought experiment helps me consider whether it’s okay for things to evolve in this direction or if we need to approach it with more humility.

Today, we see more and more architects in our country creating extreme and provocative designs. The allure of creating something spectacular in architecture is undeniable. Spectacular buildings can capture attention, inspire awe, and serve as landmarks. However, they’re like fireworks—brilliant and captivating in the moment. But just as fireworks are fleeting, the impact of purely spectacular architecture can be short-lived if it doesn’t also serve a deeper purpose or integrate well with its surroundings.

Architecture, by its very nature, remains on this earth for a long time. It becomes part of the fabric of our cities and landscapes, influencing how people live and interact with their environment. That’s why, as architects, we have to think beyond the immediate “wow” factor. We need to consider the long-term implications of our designs. A city filled with spectacular buildings might lose its sense of cohesion or, worse, become overwhelming and exhausting for those who live there.

What is a measure of success for you? 

True architectural success lies in creating spaces that balance beauty with functionality and spectacle with subtlety. Buildings that not only impress at first glance but also serve their purpose over time, blending harmoniously with their environment and enhancing the daily lives of the people who use them. It’s about creating lasting value, not just fleeting moments of brilliance.

This kind of thinking is essential when you’re creating something that will stand on this earth for generations. It requires a certain humility—to understand that while we can create extraordinary things, they must be thoughtfully integrated into the larger context of a city, a landscape, or a community. The future of architecture isn’t just about making bold statements; it’s about crafting spaces that people will love and cherish long after the initial awe has faded. I strongly believe that as architects, we hold great power in shaping the future, which also carries great responsibility. We should always respect that.

You have several projects on Tinos. What did the island teach you about location?

Tinos was a great “teacher” to me. When I first moved there, my experience had been mostly in urban environments. So, I made it a point to explore the island deeply, to find inspiration in the small details of its landscape and architecture. Tinos taught me the importance of incorporating subtle, local elements into my designs, to create buildings that try to truly belong to their surroundings. Working in Tinos was a great lesson in respecting and understanding the character of a place, and in how the smallest details can make a big difference in connecting a building to its environment.

Do you have a dream project?

I don’t have a specific dream project, but I do have a dream to work on projects with a significant social impact. One day, I’d love to design something like a school or a hospital—places that serve the community and improve lives. For me, the true measure of a project’s success is in how it enhances the well-being of the people who use it. Projects like these allow architects to focus on creating spaces that are not only functional but also nurturing and inspiring for those who interact with them daily.

If you weren’t an architect, what would you be?

That’s an interesting question. Honestly, it’s hard to imagine being anything else. I truly love being an architect; it’s such an integral part of who I am. Architecture allows me to combine creativity with problem-solving, and it’s difficult to think of another profession that could offer the same fulfillment.