Graduating in distance education

With Thomas Braem, Bert Derudder, Ine Haerick, Katrien Meersschaert, Laure Mestré, Isabelle Vanwest, Floor Veltman, Els Warlop – and Mieke Van De Woestyne (author).

For eight interior design students, the past few years have been not only an academic challenge, but also a surprisingly personal journey. They followed their programme through distance learning and grew into “the group of 8”, or as they tongue-in-cheek call themselves: the grateful 8. After the graduation ceremony, we spoke to them, tired but satisfied, with their diplomas in hand. Despite their diverse backgrounds and individual styles, their story ultimately revolves around one thing: connection. They inspired each other, pushed each other forward and proved that distance learning does not have to be distant at all.

The flax mill in Kortrijk, one of the best preserved in the region, was the setting for this year's bachelor's thesis within the Concept & Spatiality focus. The assignment was clear but challenging: design a public function that respects the heritage and gives the site a new narrative. The striking retting room, with its compelling architecture and rhythm, steered the students in the same direction: they all opted for a guest house. But how exactly that should look led to three completely different interpretations.

Floor Veltman found the silence of the mill a natural breeding ground for peace and reflection. They designed a place that lends itself to retreat and contemplation, where simplicity and purity are central. “The flax history is inherently linked to West Flanders. In a way, the rotary exudes simplicity, purity and tranquillity,” she explains her choice of seclusion over encounter. That atmosphere prompted her to choose seclusion over busy forms of encounter. It even earned her design an award, presented by the De Smet Legate.

For Bert Derudder, the mill should not only be a reminder of the past, but also be future-oriented and commercially viable. He came up with a bicycle hotel that responds to the rise of cycle tourism and the connection with the landscape. “Flax is a material that is also used in design,” they say, "so I wanted to create something that refers to both tradition and innovation." In his design, a large central hall forms the beating heart, where all the rooms open onto and where the bicycle literally takes centre stage. “A bit like when you go for a walk with your dog in a park – the conversation can revolve around the dog. Here, the conversation could revolve around the bicycle.”

Thomas Braem took his time choosing a target audience and was guided by the power of the existing building. He integrated a significant part of the mill and the machinery into a public meeting space, surrounded by hotel rooms that weave around the heritage site. A striking element in his design is the old steam boiler, which had been rusting away in the field for years. Thomas gave the structure a new lease of life in a light-filled extension, a kind of greenhouse with a transitional climate that fits in perfectly with the towpath along the Leie. “I wanted to preserve it as a historical meeting point,” he says, “so that the historical value of the building remains visible, the techniques used can be displayed and walkers on the towpath are naturally drawn to each other.”

Within the focus on Interior Finishing & Advice, the students worked around the St. Francis Chapel in Sleidinge. One basic condition was set: food distribution had to take place at least once a month. That social approach was already established, but because it only happened sporadically, the students were given the freedom to come up with an additional function. This resulted in four very different interpretations, each starting from the question of how a chapel can be meaningful to its surroundings today.

Laure Mestré designed a sustainable, multi-purpose chapel. She conceived a sample library where visitors can discover sustainable materials, complemented by space for young artists, lectures and parties. She also provided a compact space for a design agency that can go through the sample library together with clients. The modular library allows for flexible use. “Actually, the most important thing was to reuse materials and show that sustainability can also be trendy, in a chapel,” she says. Her design largely preserves the chapel as it is, but adds thoughtful structures around the existing whole.

Because the building is located on the site of a residential care centre, Ine Haerick saw it as an excellent opportunity to give the chapel a new place in the neighbourhood. She designed an accessible meeting place for residents, passers-by and visitors. In her proposal, the chapel will have a coffee bar, a small hairdressing salon and a multipurpose room for neighbourhood activities. This would create a lively space where people can meet, help and strengthen each other.

Isabelle Vanwest started from the food-related aspect that was already part of the assignment. They designed a social restaurant combined with a market hall, where meeting people around food and local products is central. Their interpretation creates a warm, inclusive place that seamlessly intertwines food and connection.

Els Warlop returned to the original meaning of the chapel: a place where people can go with their concerns and feel safe. She provided consultation rooms for therapists as the main function, in addition to the monthly food distribution. A waiting room also serves as a meeting place for the neighbourhood, bringing care and community back together.

While most students worked on permanent redesigns of existing buildings, Katrien Meersschaert followed a unique path via temporary installations. During her internship at an art gallery, she designed frames to display art, and her work quickly expanded from her own gallery to the conversion of an old barn into Atelier 1868.

For her bachelor's thesis, she was assigned Woodrow Wilson Square in Ghent, with the task of designing a temporary installation that would strengthen the community. Since the arrival of the new city offices, the square has become chaotic and uninviting. Her answer: Triangulum, a place where people can pause and meet each other. Three large triangles, each twenty metres high, form the heart of the design, each with its own function: a greenhouse overlooking the hidden park, a space with video screens and hammocks for Belgian video art, and a platform with wide steps for lunch or views. All three triangles are connected to form a coherent whole, flexible enough to be placed elsewhere.

What stands out about the designs is the maturity that the students bring with them. Each project not only gives a building or place a new function, but also the student's personal signature, imbued with experience and passion. This professionalism was reinforced by the mutual dynamics of the group. Friday afternoons in the studio often resulted in moments of coming together, reflecting and motivating each other. The joint P.INT trip to Rotterdam also brought them closer together and created a sense of connection that was palpable throughout the entire trajectory.

That social cohesion was crucial, Floor emphasises: “There were so many moments when you thought: what am I doing this for? That's when you need each other, because it makes it real, supportive and valuable. But not only that, also in terms of content and professionalism. When you looked at each other's jury presentations, you were always so pleasantly surprised by the work the other person had done, all in their own unique way.”

The group created a safe bubble, separate from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, where students found support, learned from each other and strengthened each other. Through this mutual inspiration, each retained their own signature style, while at the same time being able to grow through each other's expertise and experience. The result is a powerful combination of individual creativity and collective strength, visible in every design.

After graduating, the eight interior designers each went their separate ways, but the bond remains. Together, they still form “the group of 8” and see each other both professionally and privately. Some work as freelancers or at a studio, others combine work with further study or are employed full-time. Their projects range from temporary installations to redesigning public spaces, and a number of them dream of future collaborations within the group.

When asked to summarise their journey over the past few years, a variety of words come to mind: pride, intensity, a bumpy ride, sometimes even rock and roll. For the group, it was not just about individual efforts, but also about collaboration, inspiration and motivation. They created a bubble in which everything outside the studio temporarily disappeared, which could be intense for themselves and those around them. The journey was challenging and demanding, but also transformative: they learned to put things into perspective, appreciate each other's work and surpass themselves. What began as an individual journey became a shared, close-knit group story that changed them not only professionally, but also personally. Bert sums it up succinctly: “Interior design in distance education is 100% inadvisable and 200% advisable.” To which the group nods in unison as proof of the above.