In one of the world’s poorest countries, where people entirely depend on agriculture to make a living, the Butaro Hospital in Rwanda provides a point of contact between the local community and humanitarian organizations, as well as a boost to the region’s economy.
The hospital, designed by Michael Murphy when he was only a second-year architecture student, is located on the top of the hills overlooking Butaro’s valley, with the idea that future patients should benefit from the spectacular views and idyllic landscapes. As a measure to avoid the transmission of infections and meanwhile reduce its environmental footprint, the hospital breathes through natural ventilation rather than energy-consuming mechanical systems. To further control the risk of contagion, hallways are flipped outside and all the wards are situated in separated buildings connected by open walkways. Breaking with the anonymity and seclusion usually associated with hospitals, the Butaro Hospital has the inviting atmosphere typical of resort hotels.
But the real transformative impact of the Butaro hospital architecture is the active involvement of the local community in building construction. Hundreds of people were instructed to create walls from volcanic stones and to make windows and doors from local wood. Thus, the process of building was used to heal not just those who were sick, but also the entire community. In this sense, every design decision was thought of as an opportunity to invest in the dignity of the place.
I find the Butaro Hosptial an inspirational example of the deep relationship between architecture and ourselves. Buildings are not simply excessive sculptures, they reflex our personal and collective aspirations as a society.
In one of the world’s poorest countries, where
people
entirely
depend on agriculture to
make
a living, the
Butaro
Hospital
in Rwanda provides a point of contact between the local community and humanitarian organizations,
as well
as a boost to the region’s economy.
The
hospital
, designed by Michael Murphy when he was
only
a second-year architecture student,
is located
on the top of the hills overlooking
Butaro
’s valley, with the
idea
that future patients should benefit from the spectacular views and idyllic landscapes. As a measure to avoid the transmission of infections and meanwhile
reduce
its environmental footprint, the
hospital
breathes through natural ventilation
rather
than energy-consuming mechanical systems. To
further
control the
risk
of contagion, hallways
are flipped
outside and all the wards
are situated
in separated
buildings
connected by open walkways. Breaking with the anonymity and seclusion
usually
associated with
hospitals
, the
Butaro
Hospital
has the inviting atmosphere typical of resort hotels.
But
the real transformative impact of the
Butaro
hospital
architecture is the active involvement of the local community in
building
construction. Hundreds of
people
were instructed
to create walls from volcanic stones and to
make
windows and doors from local wood.
Thus
, the process of
building
was
used
to heal not
just
those who were sick,
but
also
the entire community. In this sense, every design decision was
thought
of as an opportunity to invest in the dignity of the place.
I find the
Butaro
Hosptial
an inspirational example of the deep relationship between architecture and ourselves.
Buildings
are not
simply
excessive sculptures, they reflex our personal and collective aspirations as a society.