68 LEADING WOMEN
cultural sector: it’s a sector largely run by women. I’ve been fortunate to work for clients who don’t think: “Can she really do it?” Teir attitude is: “You made it and we respect you. We know what graft you put in.” But when you go into a corporate environment, such as working with developers, it’s very different and much harder as a woman – it’s harder to get into those conversations in the first place because I’m not hanging out at golf clubs. I never go for networking drinks.’ During the Covid pandemic, the culture
sector took a massive hit, but CDB diversified into social housing. ‘We need to find ways of being nimble. We’ve managed to really jump sectors and show that our process can be applied in lots of different ways. We bring value by seeing things in a particular way, by reinterpreting briefs, by seeing sustainability and viability as part of the same coin – often they’re pitched against each other. I’m genuinely interested in the business model of the clients we work with. We work with a lot of community clients, small charities, who are often living hand to mouth, relying on subsidies and grants. One of the reasons why we get asked back is that we’re really attuned to their commercial reality and so the process we run is not just a design process – it’s almost a business-planning process as well, to see how we can get the biggest bang for their buck… and really help with their financial stability… because if it’s not financially viable it won’t happen.’ Recently, her problem-solving streak led
Marks down an unusual pathway: into lingerie and swimwear design. Following a mastectomy for breast cancer treatment, she found herself repelled by the usual post- surgery bras that prioritised prosthetics. She wanted to own her asymmetry. Having found the necessary collaborators and funding, Unobra launched in 2023 and has had enthusiastic coverage everywhere from the BBC to Te Times and Te Guardian. How does she find the energy for this as
well as running a practice and raising two sons? First, she credits her husband for his unstinting support. She says: ‘I don’t have time. I do it on the side. And it’s really challenging, but having confronted your own mortality as I have, I have just become really committed… to saying “no” to the things I don’t want to do and that don’t give value to me or anyone else and making time for the things that do.’ Marks doesn’t see money as the main
metric for success, but she is frustrated that big, corporate schemes are usually the most profitable: ‘Tere’s literally an inverse correlation between the social value that you create and the amount of money that you earn.’ She doesn’t waste time weighing up
successes and failures: ‘I just see it as a constant process of refinement and learning… For me, if we can demonstrate that our process is humane and brings richness in the conversation, I think it transmits through what you get out at the end. And it’s always about having a bit of soul. I want people to
‘I grew up in an environment where there was no
discrimination between boy and girl. Even more fortunate, our parents instilled in us the importance and value of giving’
go into a building we designed or put on our bras and really feel the best version of themselves. To make spaces that empower people to feel full of energy, to change minds: that to me is success. Getting awards or whatever is very nice, but the real success is when you feel that you’ve created something that people genuinely love.’ Tat ability to ‘identifying what it is that
makes a place loved’ is vital in dealing with heritage buildings – ‘it means you can do things that are resolutely new, and not be afraid’. She cites Manchester’s Jewish Museum as a prime example. ‘Te normal thing to do with an extension on a Grade II* listed building would be to put something recessive, hanging back. We’ve managed to do something quite bold, which really amplifies the existing building. I felt we needed to give it greater street presence without diminishing it. We made that argument with Historic England and they bought into it.’ With St Peter’s Church, in Epping Forest,
CDB was up against tough competition, but won the client over by pointing out that the brief (a new extension) was impossible to achieve on the proposed budget – and, ultimately, not necessary. ‘We looked at the history of the church and saw that it had started life as a square chapel and been extended. We said let’s take it back to that square footprint, and in the rest of the space build community facilities. So that’s what we did… Tey loved the intimacy of it. It’s still very spacious. And it’s so atmospheric. It’s about squeezing every last bit of value out of the budget.’
Marina Tabassum Marina Tabassum’s early childhood was marked by chaos and insecurity, thanks to Bangladesh’s War of Independence (1971). ‘I was introduced to death and destruction before I was enrolled in elementary school,’ she told an audience for her Sir John Soane Museum lecture in 2021. Growing up with no toys and little food, imagination came to her rescue: ‘I realised very early in life that limited means cannot limit dreams; these limits instead open the window of innovation.’ Te family moved to live with her
grandparents in Dhaka, to which they themselves had fled, post India and Pakistan’s partition in 1947. With a slum on the other side of their garden wall, she says she was aware of the privilege ‘we were born into’. ‘Unlike many, my family had the means
to provide my siblings and me with a good education and opportunities for growth. I grew up in an environment where there was no discrimination between boy and girl. Even more fortunate, our parents instilled in us the importance and value of giving. My father being the only doctor in the neighbourhood, we would wake up each morning to a long line of patients from the neighbouring slum; he would attend to each one of them before setting off to work. In many ways, I seek to repeat that compassion through my architecture by expanding beyond the
Below Tabassum’s A Capsule In Time is an elongated capsule-like structure of four, wooden forms, with an open, central court. It draws on the South Asian architectural tradition of Shamiyana tents or awnings, used for gatherings
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