Etienne
Bastormagi

Which place do you currently call home and where do you work on your projects?

Beirut is home—though not in the fixed, postcard sense of the word. It’s a city that helped shape me with care and caution, a place that continues to challenge and inspire me. Our studio is nestled between the fractured and the fertile: we work from within the urban fabric, sometimes in it, sometimes against it. Many projects are born in Beirut but unfold across the globe.

Where is your studio located & how does it look?

The studio is on the rooftop of (a stainless steel kitchen factory that my grandparents had started in the 50s) with a view of the Mediterranean Sea.

Are there any projects that are personally important to you—whether recently completed or currently in progress?

We have just launched our architectural intervention in the Takeover Gallery in Beirut.

Do you have a favorite place in your area where you like to relax and linger?

Yes, Jacaranda is one of my favorite places to relax and linger. Its lush courtyard and calm atmosphere create a peaceful escape from the city’s noise. It’s a space to Pause and reflect.

Also my Studio is a space that brings me peace, facing the Mediterranean with the right amount of light (an abundance in this part of the world).

Are there any urgent political issues or problems in your region?

Yes, many—but they all come down to a lack of accountability. Our infrastructure is crumbling, our heritage is being sold off, and public spaces are being taken over in the name of development. But maybe the most pressing issue is: who has the right to belong, and who is left out of shaping the future of our city.

In your opinion, what has developed well in the last 5 years—and what has not?

What has developed well is a collective cultural resistance. Grassroots archives, independent publishing, community kitchens, small design and architectural studios — all forms of spatial and narrative repair. What has not developed, or rather what has deteriorated, is institutional trust. We’ve seen the state recede and people forced to fill the void with fragile systems of care—something we are very familiar with in Lebanon.

Do you know a hidden gem when it comes to local manufacturers—whether it’s arts and crafts, sustainable products or food?

Inaash, it’s a social enterprise that supports refugee women by preserving traditional embroidery and weaving crafts. It’s a living archive of hope.

Is there anything particularly innovative in your region? Also in comparison to other places you have already visited?

Innovation here is often born out of necessity—a form of survival design. I’ve seen entire systems built from scarcity: solar-powered water pumps, moving libraries inside microbuses, public sculptures and design pieces made from war debris. Innovation in Beirut isn’t clean or slick—it’s messy, hybrid, and deeply rooted in lived experience just like the city.

Do you have a secret restaurant tip that you would like to share with us?

There’s a place in Bourj Hammoud, a suburb outskirt of Beirut, called Badguer. A celebration of what Bourj Hammoud meets Armenian heritage and culture. They serve handcrafted beautiful and tasty Armenian Levantine food. It’s restaurant meets homemade food.

Is there a local shop whose products are only available in your region?

– Nada Debs: her studio is a landmark of contemporary craft in Beirut.

– Johnny Farah: his shop is a Beirut classic. Leather goods and craftsmanship in a timeless style.

– Souk el Tayeb: you’ll find small-batch olive oil from the south, honey from Akkar, arak distilled in mountain villages all directly from producers who treat food as craft.

– Ichkhanian: best Armenian takeaway food in town.

What are your 3 favorite apps that you use every day and couldn’t live without?

– WhatsApp: sadly. I am a huge communicator; I love conversations and people get me excited about things. Firm believer that we create and inspire through dialogue.

– Spotify: my music is the world that shapes me. I’ve curated that world that I inhabit.

– Pinterest: it is my visual bible. It is my go-to research spot.

Do you have any favourite newspapers or online magazines? And how do you keep up to date with politics or social and cultural issues?

I read The Funambulist, Megaphone, The Architectural Review. But also, I listen to the old man that sells me groceries, my niece and nephew, they keep me up to date on street life and trends. I believe in personal stories rather than mainstream news—it is all about context.

Imagine you could be mayor for a year—what would you change?

I’d turn the municipality into a design lab, where each neighborhood can imagine and test the kind of city it needs. Streets and public spaces would become flexible stages for experimentation—testing new forms of mobility, green interventions, and cultural expressions. Data and stories would guide adaptive solutions, blending technology with memory to shape responsive, inclusive environments.

One last question: If you could choose another place to live—regardless of financial or time constraints—which one would you choose?

It would be Milan—a city where design is part of daily life.
Beyond its global status, Milan shares Beirut’s ruggedness and complexity. It balances elegance with grit, tradition with reinvention, and offers a culture of making something I firmly believe in and practice.