In an insightful exchange, spatial practitioner thuto vilakazi discusses the intersection of architecture, spirituality, ecological preservation, and spatial justice in South Africa. His work underscores the profound relationships between land, people, and memory, challenging conventional approaches to design while advocating for architecture that respects the spiritual essence of the land and acknowledges historical injustices.
The spirit of place: Architecture beyond buildings
For vilakazi, architecture goes beyond the physical act of constructing buildings. Rooted in African philosophical thought, he emphasises that African spirituality doesn’t distinguish between the animate and inanimate, viewing all aspects of existence as interconnected. “There isn’t a distinction between spirit and human, inanimate or animate object,” he explains. This perspective frames architecture as both cultural and ecological preservation, where structures honour the sacred relationship between people and land.
In his graduate project, !khwa !gaeb (“where water gathers”) a decolonial and commemorative landmark situated at the South African Astronomical Observatory in Cape Town’s Two Rivers Urban Park. Designed to serve as a space for remembrance, education, and research, the project brings attention to the overlooked colonial histories and the narratives of the San and Khoi First Nations.
The project was conceptualized and developed as part of the Landscapes of Memory design studio at the University of Cape Town, under the guidance and supervision of Ms. Heidi Boulanger. The studio’s project brief was built on Ms. Boulanger’s extensive three-year research into decolonial and natural heritage in Cape Town. Her research explored themes such as reclaiming colonial heritage through regenerative and ecological design, rediscovering the ‘lost’ memories of the Khoi and other Indigenous voices, and interpreting the Camissa River at the Observatory site as a place of socio-ecological, intangible, and spiritual heritage. Her research also examined Van Riebeeck’s Hedge as a (post-)colonial landscape. Ms. Boulanger’s research and project brief provided the critical and theoretical foundation for vilakazi’s design. Drawing from this framework, !khwa !gaeb embodies an ecologically sensitive approach to architecture while prioritizing cultural preservation. “The project also tries to show how we may begin to build in environments that are ecologically sensitive,” vilakazi explains. The structure is designed with 90% of it semisubmerged to integrate seamlessly with its surroundings, reducing its ecological footprint. The roof serves as both a green space and a cultural landmark, offering a unique model for balancing sustainability and cultural commemoration.
A recurring theme in vilakazi’s work is the tension between colonial development paradigms and indigenous perspectives on land. South Africa’s postcolonial realities and the growing impact of climate change make it essential for spatial practitioners to prioritise environmental sustainability while addressing spatial inequalities. vilakazi draws inspiration from South Africa’s first inhabitants, whose impermanent structures respected the land’s natural rhythms. He argues for building in ways that honour the environment, challenging resource-intensive, glass-dominated designs that often disregard local climate conditions.
“All architecture seemingly needs some sort of foundation and grounding,” he notes, emphasising that design should be sensitive to its context. vilakazi’s work advocates for spaces that respect both the environment and the historical significance of the land, requiring architects to examine urban planning through a long-term, macro lens that considers the ecological and social impact of each choice.
Architecture as a tool for spatial justice
South Africa’s urban landscape still reflects a legacy of apartheid spatial planning, with cities designed to segregate and marginalise Black communities. “Before there’s even anything built, resources are used to divide. Infrastructure, as well, is used to divide,” vilakazi observes, noting that early colonial policies exploited natural resources like water to displace indigenous communities from their ancestral lands. These practices laid the foundation for today’s spatial injustices, affecting urban layouts in cities like Cape Town.
vilakazi explains how this “architectural racism” endures through spatial inequality, manifested in the layout and infrastructure of urban areas. He references Building Apartheid by Nicholas Coetzer, a formative text in his architectural journey, which details how apartheid policies shaped spatial inequities in South Africa.
Right: Khayelitsha, a township on Cape Town’s periphery, June 2013.
Surveillance and control in township design
The effects of apartheid planning extend to townships, which were originally established to control Black populations. We spoke about how even the lighting in townships, like the yellow globes, was carefully planned to instil a sense of control and unease. “Those lighting masks still exist,” he notes, adding that these design elements were intended not only to surveil but also to subtly reinforce apartheid ideologies. The yellow sodium-vapour lights, chosen over white lights, were not just cost-effective measures, but rather ways of restricting visibility, making it difficult for residents to see clearly at night and heightening disorientation within their own communities. This lack of visibility also curbed nighttime movement, limiting social and economic activity. Simultaneously, the lighting enabled authorities to monitor movements, creating an environmental control system that embedded apartheid’s restrictive ideologies into everyday life alongside physical barriers like buffer zones and roads, isolating Black communities.
Rethinking urban density and livability
Addressing these spatial injustices requires rethinking not only architecture but also urban organisation. vilakazi critiques the idea of “densifying” townships to create economic hubs within constrained spaces, arguing that this approach often perpetuates existing inequalities. “Density within the township isn’t the answer,” he contends, emphasising that true spatial justice would require a broader reorganisation of urban spaces where townships and marginalised communities are no longer isolated from economic opportunity and essential infrastructure.
Reflecting on belonging and property as a Black South African
vilakazi’s reflections extend to his experiences as a Black person navigating city life in Cape Town and Johannesburg. The challenges of accessing property, inflated rental prices, and feeling out of place in predominantly white urban centres highlight the legacy of exclusion. He describes the dilemma of enjoying urban amenities while confronting a city environment historically structured to exclude Black people. This reality underscores the need for urban spaces that welcome all people and allow Black South Africans to experience a sense of belonging.
Architecture as a force for transformation
Through his work, vilakazi envisions architecture as a transformative tool that challenges entrenched systems of exclusion. His designs aspire to reconnect people to the land and its memory, honouring cultural values often overlooked in mainstream architecture. By combining architectural practice with a commitment to ecological and social justice, vilakazi offers a vision for architecture that is as much about healing as it is about building.
As South Africa grapples with urban inequality and climate resilience, vilakazi’s approach calls all spatial practitioners and public leaders to design with purpose, respect, and an awareness of the past’s influence on the present.