TEHRAN – “Nothing is thrown away; everything is reused and repurposed. Life is seen as a cycle of constant transformation where nothing stays the same,” Muhamadreza Ghodousi, founder of ZAV Architects, tells STIR, describing what he calls the ‘grandmother approach’. 
“It is a term we use to describe a pragmatic paradigm rooted in Iranian culture, a resourceful way of living that has guided the everyday life of people. It reflects the practical wisdom, especially of women – grandmothers, who have traditionally managed large households with incredible efficiency and care. This pre-modern approach is all about working with what you have.” 
The practical wisdom of resourcefulness, however, isn’t limited by the influence of traditional practices. Ghodousi also asserts the role of the socio-cultural situation of Iran and how the economy—shaped by politics, sanctions and other factors—is always unstable and unpredictable. 
“The future feels more like a vague idea, not something you can count on,” he propounds. These ideas shape the programmatic and spatial principles for Dr. Beski Science Foundation by the Iranian Architecture firm ZAV Architects in Gonbad-e Kavus, a city located near Iran’s northeastern border.
The brief of the project initially targeted creating a facility for students and researcher activities—with spaces such as research workshops, laboratories and a small conference hall—to bolster Gonbad-e Kavus’s scientific community. But, with the remote town of Gonbad-e Kavus being far from the major scientific hubs of Iran, this meant an intrinsically lowered potential for attracting and retaining researchers and students. 
With these concerns clouding the educational architecture project’s viability, the Tehran-based firm remodeled the program to be more flexible, keeping the possibility for the centre to develop into a full-fledged research facility if the need arises—highlighting the influence of the ‘grandmother approach’ described by Ghodousi. Some spaces were dedicated to research and education, like in agriculture and medicine, but most of the building was designed to be adaptive.
The intent thus shifted towards creating a space that strengthened the local community by creating a multi-functional facility, allowing a sense of liberty in the otherwise prohibitive society. 
Ghodousi mentions how the public life and urban culture in Iranian cities saw a significant shift after the Islamic Revolution in 1979. As public spaces began to be shaped by conservative political ideologies and strict codes, many leisure activities in such spaces became outlawed. 
In bigger cities, semi-private spaces harbored such activities, but in smaller towns, even semi-private spaces were guarded by conservative values and underground events were more likely to get exposed or shut down. 
The Iranian architect says, “In a place like Gonbad-e Kavus, gathering in public spaces usually needs a good excuse. That’s why public spaces like seminar rooms, conference halls and galleries matter so much. They create socially acceptable reasons for people to come together and can help revive urban life. Gathering in the name of science is one of those acceptable excuses. The client, who’s passionate about environmental and scientific activism, wanted to use this idea to bring people together.”
The adaptive design currently allows the building to be used for various functions, such as coworking spaces, exhibition spaces, and conference and meeting rooms, allowing the building to accommodate the diverse needs of the local community and adopting a second function of cultural architecture. 
Ghodousi says, “This idea isn’t new to people here. In traditional Iranian homes, rooms were naturally flexible and multi-functional. With just a few adjustments, a room could turn into a space for eating, and sleeping, a children’s room or even a room to accommodate guests. Carpets covering the floor made the whole space usable, adding to its versatility. Plus, separate rooms could be connected to create one large, open space. So, people either already know this way of using space or still remember it from the past.”
Designed to be flexible and morph into the community requirements, the Dr. Beski Science Foundation did not remain a singular entity but became a part of the urban fabric of Gonbad-e Kavus. Its contextual architecture accounts for its space in the neighborhood, and the brutalist building intentionally mirrors the city’s commonly observed aesthetic of unfinished side facades. Baring its structural form of concrete framing and autoclaved block, the Dr. Beski Science Foundation possesses an unassuming local allure—rendering it accessible through its visual vocabulary. 
Not only does it blend through its materiality, but its stepped form blends the building in the neighborhood’s massing as the upper levels increasingly recede from the street. The triangular shapes of the building become an extension of the triangular site it is built on, and the landscaped terraces offer multiple open spaces for various smaller gatherings—enabling multiple activities at once.
The building’s interiors match its austere concrete architecture, with surfaces left unfinished. Elements like gypsum boards, steel profiles stairs and partitions were chosen for their flexibility, as they can be easily adjusted or reused as the building evolves. The use of autoclaved concrete blocks solved two problems: cutting down the building’s weight and removing the need for extra insulation. The use of solar panels and engaging natural ventilation meant that maintenance costs for the building were also kept to a minimum.
“Something I found special was the writings the workers left on the unfinished walls during construction. They always do this, knowing those walls will eventually be covered up with a finishing coat. It’s like leaving a secret behind. The writings could be anything—curses, their names, memories, random phrases, doodles or even simple patterns. We decided to keep them. To me, they’re a kind of collective memory, marks of the people who built these structures. They remind me of ancient cave paintings—stories carved by those who were here,” Ghodousi explains.
The Mathematics House, a building across the street from the foundation, had been shut down due to lack of use and was being used as storage. With the increased influx in the neighborhood due to ZAV Architect’s Intervention, the classes were moved to the Dr. Beski Foundation, and the Mathematics House was converted into an extension of the foundation, converting it into a cafe, library and bookstore, giving the building fresh energy. The architects mention how the project addresses the need for a space to allow the communities to come together and how its significant footfall is enlivening the neighborhood. They call it ‘urban acupuncture’, as it doesn’t need significant changes in the city but breathes life into neglected areas by the activation of small, key spots. The architects believe this move alters public opinion, as the building’s spatial and functional configuration enliven the neighborhood and makes its contextual design appealing to visitors, even with its unassuming aesthetic—redefining the idea of a beautiful building.