In Conversation

What is truly simple – and what only appears to be? A con­ver­sation with Florian Nagler

In one of our recent Friday talks, we spoke with Prof. Nagler about simplicity in building and on holiday, about experimental research buildings, the “Building Type E” and the conversion of shipping containers into mobile artist studios.

by Jan Hamer and Ulrich Stefan Knoll in November 2025

Good evening, Pro­fessor Nagler – where are we rea­ching you right now?

I happen to be back in Bad Aibling at the moment, visiting one of our clients, with whom I deve­loped three research buil­dings.

We’ve had a con­nection for quite some time through the Tan­nerhof, which we feature on HOLIDAYARCHITECTURE. How exactly did this long-standing col­la­bo­ration with the hotel begin – one that has just entered a new chapter with the opening of the Bade­harpfe?

Tan­nerhof: From the outset, we were able to aim for using simple means.

I met Burgi von Men­gers­hausen and Roger Brandes from Tan­nerhof through the painter Peter Lang, a mutual friend. He trans­ferred to my secondary school back in the day for the advanced art course, but before that he had gone to the same school as Burgi and Roger. Much later, he made the con­nection and told them: If you’re going to build some­thing – build it with Florian!

At that time, was simple or pared-down building already a core focus of your work – or did that only become a central part of your approach later on?

The topic or question has preoc­cupied me from the very beginning. Around the same time, I built a cowshed and the visitor centre for the Dachau con­cen­tration camp memorial site.

Those two pro­jects always stand side by side in my mind: the cowshed, which was built as simply as it looks – and the memorial building, which at first glance appears very simple, but is actually extremely ela­borate in tech­nical terms. And that’s the spectrum I keep coming back to: What is truly simple – and what only appears to be?

At the Tan­nerhof, it was clear from the very beginning that the clients were never par­ti­cu­larly inte­rested in pushing tech­nical boun­daries. From the outset, we were able to aim for using simple means – so in that sense, the Tan­nerhof was a great project for exploring those ideas too.

At the same time, we were working on com­pletely dif­ferent pro­jects that involved very demanding spe­ci­fi­ca­tions and extensive use of tech­nology. At some point, we rea­lised for our­selves that this wasn’t how we want to keep building. We began to ask whether we could achieve our goals by resorting more to archi­tec­tural means.

For the Tan­nerhof, there has been a very long-standing col­la­bo­ration, spanning several con­s­truction phases. Was there a master plan at the outset?

We actually started with the task of deve­loping an overall concept – which we kept adjusting over time. Partly because we got to know the Tan­nerhof better and better as the years went on, and partly because the concept, which was designed to last for years and decades, had to be repea­tedly mea­sured against what was finan­cially fea­sible. So some ideas were never rea­lised, or were post­poned. The current project – the Bade­harpfe – was also the result of a long process.

The ori­ginal idea was much bigger – a fairly large building with a pool and sauna, along with the con­version of the old bath­house. But we couldn’t afford it – which, in hind­sight, was actually a good thing.

So we reduced the whole concept down to the Harpfe, which com­pen­sates for ever­y­thing that hadn’t been working opti­mally in recent years: a proper fitness room, an expanded sauna area and a lovely rela­xation space. That’s really all that was needed – so in that sense, it’s a success story of reduction.

The studio had to fit inside a standard 20-foot shipping con­tainer.

Let’s turn to a dif­ferent topic. In your port­folio. I came across a project in Pata­gonia – some sort of self-assembly con­tainer house for an artist. What’s the story behind it?

Ah, you must mean the PRC (Peters Reise Con­tainer – Peter’s Travel Con­tainer) I designed for Peter Lang’s work pro­jects! He wanted a mobile studio that would allow him to travel the world and paint en plein air, even in remote loca­tions.

He had a few spe­ci­fi­ca­tions: the studio had to fit inside a standard 20-foot shipping con­tainer, the usable studio space should be at least 60 square metres, and he wanted to carry 300 square metres of canvas. That alone took up about a third of the available space. And of course, it needed to provide faci­lities for sleeping, cooking and looking after oneself.

He took it to Pata­gonia where he spent six months painting. For me, it was an important project because in the planning and fit-out process, we spent a lot of time thinking tog­ether about what you really need in remote loca­tions. In the end, we decided to reduce it down to the absolute minimum necessary for sur­vival. There was a small wood-burning stove for cooking, a tar­paulin stretched over the top to coll­ected rain­water, which drained into a cistern and was used to feed a camping shower. He had one solar panel that he used to power a radio.

Editor’s note: A 24-minute video about the travel con­tainer can be viewed here.

His con­clusion when he returned: ever­y­thing worked per­fectly. Only in one respect were we com­pletely mistaken. What we had con­sidered the bare essen­tials, the absolute minimum, turned out to be far above what many people in the world actually get by with. Within a radius of several square kilo­metres, he had the most luxu­rious accom­mo­dation. You couldn’t have made the point any clearer: it’s us – people in Central Europe or North America – whose expec­ta­tions and way of life consume the lion’s share of the world’s resources.

A beau­tiful setting really calms me down when I’m on holiday.

Which brings us straight to the subject of simple holidays. What matters to you when you are on holiday?

First and foremost, I think it’s important to realise that you often don’t have to travel very far to relax and have a good time-out. For me per­so­nally, the key thing is that the place is beau­tiful – a beau­tiful setting really calms me down when I’m on holiday. I don’t need much more than that.

That’s actually the same question that con­cerns us in our “normal” building work. First you have to ask: what does a “simple” holiday actually mean? And I do have the feeling that more and more people are rea­lising that they are happy with less – or maybe even happier. I am con­vinced that this group of people is growing.

At the Tan­nerhof, for ins­tance, we never suc­cumbed to the tempt­ation to work through a list of cri­teria for a star rating. Instead, we always did it the “Tan­nerhof way” – assuming that guests would reco­gnise the quality. So there are things we deli­berately didn’t include – things you’d need to tick the boxes for a 4- or 5‑star hotel.

My impression is that you take a similar approach to curating your sel­ection at HOLIDAYARCHITECTURE. Of course, I’m speaking entirely from my own per­spective, but: I look at the places – and if I like what I see, I’m willing to overlook a lot. The most important thing is: it’s beau­tiful; I would like to sit there and relax. And if that’s the case, then everything’s won­derful – I don’t need much else.

Based on your expe­rience with simpler ways of building – what lessons can be drawn for holiday accom­mo­dation? What insights are you and your clients gaining?

A lot of these buil­dings are con­version pro­jects – and they benefit from the sim­plicity already inherent in these old struc­tures: from the beauty of the mate­rials and the tactile quality they bring.

The main takeaway from simple building is that we, as planners, need to start taking a few things seriously again – things that, really, everyone knows. For example: reducing the use of tech­nology and working more with what archi­tecture itself can do. Then: using as few con­s­truction details as pos­sible – ideally building without any details at all. And of course: relying on solid con­s­truction so we gain thermal mass. Appro­priately sized windows are another key aspect – alt­hough I realise that this may be dif­ficult to convey from the per­spective of HOLIDAYARCHITECTURE, since guests have come to expect expansive pan­o­ramic views. The size of windows is crucial for reducing our reliance on tech­nology – it helps prevent over­heating in summer and reduces heat loss in winter.
These are fun­da­mental aspects – not all of them can be entirely trans­ferred to holiday accom­mo­dation, but I’m con­vinced that even in the context of holiday archi­tecture , things could be built in a much “simpler” way.

In the end, it’s about ensuring we can con­tinue to build affordable housing in the future.

And surely the “Building Type E” would be helpful here – the initiative launched by the Bavarian Chamber of Archi­tects. If I’m not mistaken, that’s not yet offi­cially enshrined in building codes, right? I believe it’s still in the pilot phase…

That’s right. At the moment, there are 19 pilot pro­jects running in Bavaria, with dif­ferent time­frames and con­di­tions. But I think that in the coming year, a few of them will be com­pleted – and we’ll be able to reflect on the first fin­dings and expe­ri­ences.

Our research houses in Bad Aibling, which often get men­tioned in this context, aren’t actually Building Type E pro­jects – because we’re of the opinion that we com­plied with all the regu­la­tions there. At least as far as we know them – after all, no one can pos­sibly keep track of all 3,600 tech­nical building regu­la­tions.

As part of the research project, we did con­sider whether we could make recom­men­da­tions about which regu­la­tions ought to be abo­lished, stream­lined or rewritten. But we were com­pletely over­whelmed by the sheer volume of rules. We had to realise that we couldn’t manage it – it was just too much. After all, there have been countless com­mis­sions that tried to roll back the regu­latory framework. Yet every time, they ended up pro­ducing even more regu­la­tions than before.

The clever thing about the approach of the working group at the Bavarian Chamber of Archi­tects on Building Type E is this: all the existing regu­la­tions remain valid, but at the same time it is made pos­sible for planners and clients to agree that, while still com­plying with the building code and the Building Energy Act (GEG), they will not follow all of the tech­nical stan­dards, DIN norms and regu­la­tions, some of which have, over time, crept into the con­s­truction industry through the back door. Instead, they agree to develop their own solu­tions – and if these work, then that’s per­fectly accep­table. That, I think, is a bril­liant move.

For all those who are ready to build with less, this offers a real oppor­tunity. In the end, it’s about ensuring we can con­tinue to build affordable housing in the future. That’s why I support the Building Type E initiative whe­rever I can.

So that means, I could com­mission you for a project and we could agree on legally binding con­di­tions between us?

Not quite – legally, things aren’t fully sorted out yet. There’s still a change to the German Civil Code (BGB) required. The core problem is that, up to now, you could be held liable simply for brea­ching a regu­lation – even if no actual damage occurred.

In other words: a defect is the deviation from the standard, not the damage itself.
That so-called “non-damaging defect” is some­thing the current legal reform hopes to eli­minate. If that suc­ceeds, it would be a huge step forward. I think it would really re-energise everyone involved in con­s­truction if this sword of Dam­ocles were gone. Of course, it will still take some time. But it’s a goal of the current German government to make it happen.

One more question about the research houses in Bad Aibling: is there a final report yet?

Yes. The moni­toring lasted exactly two years, and there’s a full research report – several hundred pages long – available on our website. There’s also a concise summary in the Bauwelt magazine.
Right now, we’re already working on a second series of research houses in Bad Aibling – this time with three timber-earth hybrid buil­dings, through which we’re aiming to signi­fi­cantly reduce the use of con­crete, even com­pared to the first series.

And how does the deve­loper B&O assess the results?

They’ve really taken to the idea of research. And for us as archi­tects, too, it’s become a clear goal to apply the prin­ciples of simple building in our office pro­jects from now on.

We also aim to transfer what we’ve learned to other building typo­logies – and to other building classes. We’re working on that. We’ve already com­pleted a museum and a kin­der­garten, and now we want to move into higher building classes, like class 4 and 5. B&O, as deve­lopers, are doing much the same: they’re con­ti­nuing to evolve and apply the fin­dings from the research pro­jects.

So that pro­bably means moving more toward timber con­s­truction?

Yes, B&O tend to build in timber. If you look at the three houses in the first series, it’s clear that the insu­lated con­crete house isn’t the solution for the future. Cement pro­duction uses far too much energy, and the life cycle assessment of cement and con­crete is simply too poor.
That said, we’ll con­tinue to use con­crete in many areas. But it makes a lot of sense to think about how we can reduce its use, because these resources aren’t infinite. Instead, we need to clarify whether we can replace con­crete with rene­wable mate­rials.

In my opinion, the way we planned and built the brick house and the timber house in the series shows that it is pos­sible to build houses that are both attractive and eco­no­mical, and also very affordable – with a clear con­science.

So now all that’s needed is for the Building Type E legis­lation to be passed by the Federal Ministry of Justice to help bring the idea to a wider audience? That’s still pending due to the change in government, right?

Exactly. I really hope it happens soon – I’d love to be able to deviate legally from DIN stan­dards for once (everyone laughs).

But seriously: we shouldn’t be kidding our­selves. It also means that, in certain situa­tions, you’ll be taking on more respon­si­bility if you can’t com­pletely cover yourself. Still, I’d really love to get back to deve­loping details that arise purely from struc­tural and func­tional requi­re­ments – maybe from an aes­thetic aspect – rather than against the backdrop of 30 some­times con­tra­dictory regu­la­tions that have to be labo­riously recon­ciled. That’s how it nor­mally works at the moment. I think it would be a com­pletely dif­ferent way of working – and one that would be much more enjoyable.

The con­tainer has to be sized in such a way that one person can set ever­y­thing up and take it down.

Abso­lutely! I would like to come back to the travel con­tainer… does it still exist, has it con­tinued its journey?

Jes, it has. At the moment, it’s parked next to Peter’s studio in Glei­senberg, near the Czech border. And every now and then, he still takes it with him on his travels. He has taken it to Iceland twice, to Russia and to the Aus­trian Alps. And here’s a funny story: he had an exhi­bition in Lud­wigs­hafen, and the con­tainer was placed behind the museum. That’s the one place where Peter was most afraid. In Pata­gonia or other places, this was never really a problem, but in Lud­wigs­hafen he was really scared in his own con­tainer.

How exactly does the con­tainer and the module work, and how is it set up?

There’s a little guide for how to set it up. It’s what’s called a Full Side Access con­tainer, which means one of the long sides can be opened com­pletely. It has four hinged panels that fold out to form addi­tional spaces on both the left and right of the con­tainer. One side houses the shower, the other creates a shel­tered ent­rance area. The open long side is where you attach the studio module. Of course, all the com­ponents have to fit inside the con­tainer, and they have to be sized in such a way that one person can set ever­y­thing up and take it down – including the tar­paulin roof.

A won­derful project – and in a way, tim­eless. The idea of a house that travels is beau­tiful. Have you designed any other buil­dings that one can expe­rience as a guest?

No, not really. With holiday homes, it’s usually the case that they are first built as holiday homes, and then the clients decide to move in them­selves.

Well, that’s what good archi­tecture does – and it’s a com­pliment to the architect. So where are you going on holiday next?

Oh, I don’t know yet. It’s not that easy, because I always want to go on holidays in the north – and my wife always wants to go south. If it were up to me: I’d love to visit the Curonian Spit one day.

It’s sup­posed to be very beau­tiful there. If you happen to dis­cover a great holiday home that would suit our port­folio – do let us know.

Sure, I’d be happy to do that.

Thank you so much for this inspiring con­ver­sation, Pro­fessor Nagler!

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After training as a car­penter, Pro­fessor Florian Nagler studied archi­tecture at the Uni­versity of Kai­sers­lautern. In 1996, he founded his own archi­tecture firm, which he has run tog­ether with his wife Barbara since 2001. He has held guest and interim pro­fes­sor­ships at the Uni­versity of Wup­pertal, the Royal Danish Academy in Copen­hagen and the Stuttgart Uni­versity of Applied Sci­ences. Pro­fessor Nagler is a founding member of the Federal Foun­dation of Bau­kultur (Bun­des­stiftung Bau­kultur) and has been a member of the Academy of Arts (Archi­tecture Section) in Berlin and the Bavarian Academy of Fine Arts since 2010. That same year, he was appointed Chair of School of Engi­neering and Design at the Tech­nical Uni­versity of Munich. The chair focuses on the con­nection between design and con­s­truction and the trans­lation of ana­ly­tical studies into con­crete built pro­jects. Central to this is the phy­sical pre­sence of the struc­tures. Research con­cen­trates on the idea of “building simply”, aiming to sim­plify the con­s­truction process, and is closely linked to pro­jects deve­loped within his own archi­tecture office.

Interview: The interview was con­ducted by Jan Hamer and Ulrich Stefan Knoll.

Photo credits: Prof. Florian Nagler © Johanna Nagler (Cover photo), Bade­harpfe at Tan­nerhof © Sebastian Schels (1), Prof. Florian Nagler and Burgi von Men­gers­hausen © Micol Krause (2), View Tan­nerhof © Hansi Heckmair (3), Cowshed Than­kirchen © Florian Nagler (4), Dachau con­cen­tration Memorial site © Stefan Müller-Naumann (5–7), Tan­nerhof © Rainer Hoffmann (8, 10), © Hansi Heckmair (9), Bade­harpfe at Tan­nerhof © Sebastian Schels (11–13), Pond at Tan­nerhof © Office Enno Schramm (14), Travel Con­tainer PRC © Private Archive Peter Lang (15–18, 21), © Florian Nagler Archi­tekten (19, 20, 22), Tan­nerhof © Rainer Hofmann (23), © Hansi Heckmair (24), © Ann-Kathrin Singer (25), Research houses Bad Aibling (1. series) © Sebastian Schels (26–29), Research houses Bad Aibling (2. series) © Sebastian Schels (30–32), Travel Con­tainer PRC © Private Archive Peter Lang (33–38)