Khalid Alnajjar is a UAE-based architect and the founder and managing director of dxb.lab, one of Dubai's leading architecture practices. The architect's small villa studio in Jumeirah serves as creative hub, company headquarters and home from home. Here, amid waist-high stacks of magazines, book-lined walls and a menagerie of designer chairs, Alnajjar works on the projects that regularly win dxb.lab international acclaim.
He is currently working on the design for the second pavilion for Abu Dhabi's Saadiyat Island, but he also has a passion project a little closer to home - drafting up designs for a new family house. Wandering into the main space, he says, "This is my favourite room because of the feeling of seclusion. We're 19 people in total, but for me, this is my creative zone. This is where I spend most of my time; this is a creative space for me. I enjoy the small quietness of it. I like to start working very early in the morning, and those first two or three hours are almost a new beginning. It's when the ideas come and it is one of my favourite times. I'd rather have this kind of environment - like an atelier - than work in a corporate office. It's more creative. There's a lot of buzz during the week and during the weekends I come here and I create - there are no phone calls or interruptions."
"Saadiyat Island is a very exciting project. How can you design a space which is very flexible and for many different uses? It is very challenging, but you can experiment and do something really interesting. There are a lot of high-profile architects involved. Frank Gehry is one. He actually set up the undergraduate school that I attended in Los Angeles." He manoeuvres his way between piles of glossy magazines stacked on the floor and around his computer, which sits at the end of his oversized desk. The long, narrow table is partially obscured by magazines, cameras, candles, spare glasses, Rubik's cubes, cameras and piles of paper, all surrounding an oversized computer monitor. Nothing is haphazard, however. The piles of paper are at neat, careful right angles, and the ornaments have been arranged to fan out in size order. It's the environment of someone with a highly ordered aesthetic. Alnajjar clicks a button, and the designs for his new home flash up on screen.
"I'm building a home in Barsha. It's on land that the government gives to locals. I was on site yesterday. It's fun and it's a real headache at the same time. From the outside, it looks like a fortress, a big white block. But inside, it's 70 per cent glass. The whole house is open. But as an architect, when you live in your own house that you've designed, you always want to change things. I told myself after the third design, you'll never do this unless you pick one and stick to it. So I did."
He points to a small scale model on the floor. "That's going to be the kitchen area. It's basically a lounge where cooking happens to take place. The whole thing is very open." The model sits incongruously between an abstract plastic sculpture and a framed child's drawing. "That's a drawing by my son. It's supposed to be our house. I found it quite architectural in a way because he drew it as a section, though for some reason there is a pool within the house. That, to a certain, extent inspired me.
"Once I move to the new house I'm going to move some of the pieces there," he says, gesturing at the assortment of objects in the room. "I'm a bit of a collector. I don't collect the cars but I like them because they're detailed. I also have an obsession with chairs. Funnily enough, all of these chairs are designed by architects," he says, pointing at the three oversized chairs crowding the area in front of his desk. He also has a thing for cameras. Though he doesn't get much time to take pictures any more, he likes to keep the cameras on his desk because of their classic design.
"This Leica is from 1957 and was a gift from my partner. I think it's the same type of camera as in that famous photograph of Stanley Kubrick where he's taking a picture of himself. It's so heavy; a really solid piece of machinery. I have a couple of Lomos lying around too, they're quirky cameras. They don't take good photographs, but the unpredictability gets exciting." There are some semi-abstract black and white photographs leaning against the wall. Did he take those?
"The images are from my studies, they're photograms, a technique developed by Man Ray where you place an object on photographic paper and expose it. They are from my studies in New York. I went there because of the schools. You get to interact with famous architects. I'm involved in academia myself now. I used to teach a design studio at the University of Sharjah. Recently I've been more busy but I still go for reviews and juries."
Drawings and sketches are also tacked to the walls around his desk. "That's a house I designed in Barsha," he says of a poster showing a minimalist, Frank Lloyd Wright style structure. "And these are sketches of The World islands. We're doing a contemporary resort there. I find it easier to express ideas through my sketching rather than by writing them down." Inspiration comes in many forms, from the found objects that he arranges in his office, to the collection of books crammed on the oversized shelf lining a wall of the studio.
"Architecture, philosophy, music, art, sculpture, photography. I was always passionate about art and architecture in general: to be an architect you have to be totally passionate about it. It's always really exciting when you build something within the urban condition of the city and feel like you are part of developing the city. But when you bring your layers of things, your books and objects into a space, that creates a certain kind of unique, personal ambience. That's why I always knew I had to have my own studio."
