Imagine stepping into a school shaped not by grown‑ups alone, but by children’s imaginations. In Madrid, this is no dream—it’s Reggio School, a living, breathing environment, born from the visions of the pupils themselves.
A Hook That Captivates
From the moment you glimpse the wavy butter‑coloured walls topped with googly‑eye porthole windows, you sense something extraordinary. Classrooms open onto an indoor rainforest; roofs zigzag in playful angles. It’s not just architecture—it’s a story told in living form.
The Spark Of Participation
Designed by architect Andrés Jaque after two years of conversations with students and teachers, the building draws from the Reggio‑Emilia educational philosophy. Under this model, children become active creators, and the physical setting emerges as a “third teacher,” inviting exploration and curiosity.
The classrooms are arranged around a two‑storey indoor rainforest rising to a glass canopy. Outside, green walls made of mashed cork host fungi, insects, and microbes—tiny neighbours that flourish on this habitat‑style surface. Gardens designed by ecologists attract birds, bees, bats, and butterflies. Each space becomes a living ecosystem, part school and part biosphere.
Architectural Impact On Wellbeing And Learning
It’s here—the fourth point you highlighted—that the story resonates most powerfully. Studies emphasise that well‑designed school spaces improve academic performance, enhance mental health, and encourage confidence in learners.
Natural light, carefully crafted window views, acoustics, and the thoughtful integration of biophilic design all combine to foster attention, comfort, and a sense of meaning in students’ daily lives.
Design experts stress that surroundings impact outcomes: more daylight improves concentration, mood, and physical health. Schools with generous windows, daylight harvesting systems, acoustic planning, and visual comfort see measurable gains in well‑being—not just for students, but for educators too.
Voices From The Inside
One teacher reminisced that children described the cork‑clad walls as “like a tree bark they could climb inside”—a metaphor brought to life by architecture. A student described peering through the circular windows as “looking into a world of my own making.” These aren’t soundbites, but reflections of spaces deeply owned by those who use them.
Broader Context: Co‑Design Becoming A Trend
Madrid’s Reggio stands among a growing movement of schools that invite user participation. In Monmouthshire, UK, pupils and staff shaped their eco‑friendly Rogiet Primary School: solar panels, wind turbines, energy‑efficient lighting—suggestions made by pupils via the school council, all built and tracked on‑site with them involved at every step. Architects now hail it as a best‑practice exemplar in sustainable school design.
Across Oklahoma and Texas, new school buildings like James L. Capps Middle School incorporate formal committees of students and staff to identify needs: flexible group and solo workspaces, natural gathering zones, sensory‑aware lounges. The resulting designs aren’t novelty—they’re marked improvements in learning climate, engagement, and pride in their school community.
Weaving Narrative With Optimism
In building workshops and sketch sessions, children saw their ideas take shape—not in slides, but in living classrooms. Imagine their pride when an indoor rainforest grew above them, or when frogs, insects, and butterflies visited their school garden. Walk through those corridors, and you sense the possibility: each wall, window, or plant is testament to a child’s voice, honoured.
As you explore the spaces—sunlight streaming through tiered windows, clusters of plants rising beside shaded quiet corners—you feel the architecture as a gentle teacher. It encourages listening, discovery, free movement, and even wonder. It models that learning isn’t only within books, but through touch, sound, smell, and sight.
Closing Reflections
Madrid’s pupil‑designed school shows what’s possible when children guide the design journey. Here, architecture isn’t about imposing order—it’s about co‑creating an environment that reflects how children want to learn. Natural light and living walls meet vibrant classrooms; walkways become discovery paths; porthole windows frame curiosity.
This story is about more than design—it’s about trust. Trusting children to know what works, involving them in decisions, and then bringing those ideas to life in tangible, beautiful ways. In doing so, the school becomes not just a building, but a collaboration: a place children love, teachers value, and communities admire.
Sources:
Positive News
K 12 Dive
