The city that doesn't exist consists in a research of all areas that will change the cityscape enormously in the next 20 years, such as the city centre and around the central station.“A lot is happening in the city”, states the recent document (December 2020) Densification vision of the city centre by the municipality of Eindhoven. “Eindhoven is pulling” due to a very diverse composition of parties; at the same time “[the city] attracts people from all corners of the world [...], is growing and there is a need for more housing. For all target groups [...]” – with the ambition to reach 300,000 inhabitants by 2040 (currently the population is approx. 230,000). The way appointed to meet this need for more housing is by densification within the existing city.

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But which new, unknown spaces will arise here? What will they look like? What will it be like to live, work, hang out etc. here? How do city residents deal with the transition to such an unknown territory? What kind of needs, expectations, etc. will those 70,000 arriving unknown new city residents bring with them?

 

The poetic charge of this assignment is absolutely fascinating. It raises the question of whether these new, unknown places can be depicted through photography. How can we capture spaces and places that do not yet exist? How can (urban) landscape and architectural photography transcend its own fundamental sensory physicality and depict an unknown, unbuilt urban scene?