Hamid Abbasloo and Neda Adiban Rad are Iranian architects and landscape designers, co‑founders of 35‑51 ARCHITECTURE office, a practice based in Tehran since its founding in 2014. They operate across architecture, interior design, and landscape, weaving spatial narratives that respond to site, client identity, and cultural memory. Their work includes Dasht‑e‑Chehel Villa in Mosha, a residence that blurs inside and outside through ramps, diagonal cuts, and trombe walls to negotiate cold climatic conditions, and the recently completed Shafagh Tomb in Ardakan, a contemporary reimagining of mausoleum tradition that lowers the dome to human scale and engages both public and sacred realms. Through these and other works like Vanoosh Villa in Mazandaran, their studio asserts a design philosophy of “Add & Remove + one more thing”—a process of reduction, intervention, and expressive gesture—always grounded in poetic intensity, cultural respect, and material authenticity.
What inspires you?
Neda
For a landscape designer, I honestly don’t think anything inspires more than nature itself. But since nature is so vast and complex, no single person can fully grasp it. Seeing the work of other designers and artists really helps me understand it better.
Hamid
For me, inspiration comes mostly from art, the way people live, and the broader context in which architecture sits—plus, of course, my own ambitions.
What inspired you to become an architect?
Neda
Getting into landscape design wasn’t a planned path. It grew out of circumstances, events, and experiences that slowly shaped the way forward.
Hamid
My decision was actually based on a misunderstanding. Twenty years ago in Iran, architecture had a positive image and promising career prospects, which led me to this field. But once I entered university and realized how powerful space can be in shaping people’s lives, I decided to continue in architecture.
How would you describe your design philosophy?
If we had to sum it up in one phrase, it would be: “Add & Remove + one more thing.” Before becoming architects, we lived through experiences that already shaped us. Some things were part of our lives, and some we added ourselves. Our design process reflects the same attitude: figuring out what to add, what to strip away. But we also believe every project needs a special element that makes it unique to its context.
What is your favorite project?
Neda
If I answer more broadly, I’d say Van Gogh’s Sunflowers. That painting still leaves a deep impression on me.
Hamid
Back in my student years, Tadao Ando’s Azuma House and Koshino House had a huge influence on me. Today, there are many projects I admire, each for different reasons.
What is your favorite detail?
One of the details we love most is the ramp at Dasht‑e‑Chehel Villa and its connection to the greenhouse. It recalls traditional Iranian courtyards, where moving briefly from indoors to the courtyard and back was a natural, enriching part of daily life. In the villa, that idea is reinterpreted: passing through the greenhouse doesn’t take you outdoors physically, but it creates a similar feeling—the light, the plants, and the atmosphere give the sense of being outside while still within the architecture. In winter, when snow piles against the glass, that moment becomes even more memorable.
Do you have a favorite material?
Neda
I love stone, wood, and brick for their tactile qualities. Concrete, too—its simplicity has always fascinated me. And glazed tiles, which were widely used in historic Iranian architecture, have always inspired me. It amazes me that a material just a few millimeters thick can last centuries and still look fresh.
Hamid
Maybe it’s easier to say what I like less: steel and plastic. That said, I believe any material, in the hands of a creative designer, can become meaningful. But those aren’t where I instinctively start—unless the conditions demand it.
What is your process for starting a new project?
Sometimes a project starts with a personal concern. Other times, it comes from the site or the client’s needs. Occasionally, it’s triggered by regulations or other external forces. But those are just sparks. After that, the process is always the same: researching, sketching, testing ideas, discussing, building 3D models, and looking at the project from multiple angles.
How do you fuel your creativity?
We see creativity as the ability to form new relationships between ideas, phenomena, and elements by recombining or redefining them. To do this, you need both perspectives: zooming in closely and stepping back. Specialization helps you get close to a subject, while personal solitude gives distance. Anything that deepens your expertise—like study—or enriches your inner world—like travel, sports, or rest—feeds that process.
What inspired Shafagh Tomb?
We were facing a historical tradition that spanned over a thousand years, and we asked ourselves: how could our architecture continue this lineage while speaking in today’s language?
How did materiality shape Shafagh Tomb?
We were working within a tradition of brick architecture that stretches back at least a thousand years. Naturally, the main material was almost predetermined: brick. To represent the contemporary world, we chose concrete, which we cast in white to create maximum contrast with the surroundings.
How did the public embrace Shafagh Tomb?
The reaction was somewhere between surprise and acceptance. People understood it was a religious tomb, and the shaded space created by the concrete roof made sense in relation to the desert sun. But when they saw the inverted dome, they asked, “What’s that about?”—and that question lingered.
What advice would you give to young architects?
What we always remind ourselves is this: any expertise that kills imagination is on the path to being replaced by robots and AI.
