Today we’d like to introduce you to Monica Lamela.
Hi Monica, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
I’m originally from Madrid, Spain, and I think from a really young age, I knew I wanted to live beyond its borders. When I was six, I begged my mom to send me—alone—to summer camp in London. I was way too young, but she pushed for it, and they accepted me. That kind of set the tone. Over the years, I did exchanges in the UK, the US, Australia, and Germany… so curiosity for different cultures and ways of living has always been a big part of who I am.
After finishing architecture school in Madrid, I worked with architects I really admired—Lacaton & Vassal in Paris, Francis Kéré in Berlin, and Tatiana Bilbao in Mexico City. Each of those places taught me something different—not just about architecture, but about the sedimented and often contested stories that make up a place. That layered complexity of histories, cultures, and ways of living has really shaped the way I approach design today.
About six years ago, I moved to the US as a Fulbright Scholar to pursue a Master’s in History and Theory of Architecture at UC Berkeley. It was a strange time—just one semester in, the pandemic hit and everything went remote. I suddenly found myself feeling a bit trapped in the Bay Area. It’s beautiful, but coming from cities like Berlin, Paris, and especially Mexico City—so vibrant and chaotic—I found it hard to connect.
That’s when I got invited to take part in an exhibition in Los Angeles. And honestly, the moment I arrived, something clicked. I fell in love with the city—its dynamism, its eccentricity, its incredible diversity. Everyone here seems to be from somewhere else, and somehow that makes everyone belong. It also brought me closer—geographically and culturally—to Mexico, which had already become a kind of second homeland for me.
Not long after that, I started my own practice, There There. It felt like the right time, and LA felt like the right place. Our projects now span California and Mexico, and the work really reflects all those experiences—moving through different cities and cultures, finding beauty in complexity, and always trying to reveal the layered histories and meanings that give a place its identity.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
I wouldn’t say it’s been a smooth road—but it’s definitely been a fun one. I’m a very intuitive person, and I tend to trust my gut, even when I can’t fully explain the decisions I’m making at the time. My family always jokes that I surprise them with every choice I make. But in hindsight, those instinctive decisions have led me exactly where I needed to go—including founding my own architecture practice outside my hometown and working on projects I truly care about.
Living and working across so many countries has brought its challenges—new languages, unfamiliar systems, different building codes—but it’s also shaped the way I see the world. I like to think that both I and my architecture are hybrids—of Madrid, Berlin, Paris, Mexico City, LA. That hybridity gives me a kind of outsider-insider perspective. I’m always questioning local conventions, unsettled by default, and looking for new possibilities in places that might seem overly familiar to others.
We’ve been impressed with There There, but for folks who might not be as familiar, what can you share with them about what you do and what sets you apart from others?
My architecture practice is called There There, and we’re based in Los Angeles. I like to think of our work as sitting at the crossroads of material experimentation, cultural storytelling, and human experience.
What really shapes how we work is a process we call Unearthing—it’s about peeling back the layers that make a place unique, both the physical ones and the less visible, intangible stories that have been written over time. Instead of wiping the slate clean, we want to create new ideas that dialogue with what’s already there—respecting the histories and the people who make the place what it is.
Materiality is at the heart of what we do. I come from a Spanish cultural background, so I’m fascinated by the origins of materials, their qualities, and the craftsmanship behind them. In a world that’s obsessed with standardization, we like to lean into tradition, endangered crafts, and reimagine materials in new ways.
We work across California, Mexico, and Europe, which means we’re always navigating different building cultures, codes, and traditions. That cross-pollination fuels a kind of experimental curiosity in the studio. We love challenging local norms and always look for the extraordinary in everyday life and beauty in difference.
Our name, There There, actually comes from Gertrude Stein’s phrase, “There is no there there.” For us, it’s a meaningful reminder against erasure—a call to uncover and honor all those hidden layers of history and meaning that give a place its identity. Through our work, we try to make sure that, no matter what, there’s always a “There” there.
What was your favorite childhood memory?
One of my favorite memories—from my teenage years or early twenties—was wandering around Berlin with my roommate Fredy, exploring abandoned places. We made it a ritual to go once a month and discover some new forgotten building. Sometimes we’d even organize music parties inside. These places always carried so much history, but also a kind of stigma.
I used to map them out and dive into the different stories layered within those buildings—the meanings and memories sedimented through time. In a way, I was already practicing what we now call Unearthing at our practice: uncovering and questioning the fixed narratives that define a place. That early curiosity really planted the seeds for my architecture practice today.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://therethere-architecture.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/there_____there
Image Credits
Monica Lamela. Photograph by Miguel de Guzmán.
CloudRock, Joshua Tree. There There & Tatiana Bilbao Estudio. Photograph by Carola Heras.
CloudRock under construction, Joshua Tree. There There & Tatiana Bilbao Estudio.
Dingbat, Santa Monica. There There & Mutuo.
Mandalay Road, London. There There & Hector Tirapu
Otoch, Merida. There There & Mutuo.
Otoch, Merida. There There & Mutuo. Photograph by Michael Wells.
Unearthing Exhibition, Wedge Gallery. Photograph by Michael Wells.
Wasted No More, Pioneertown. There There & Mutuo.
