Build like a Booth. Lived like a Club

Not a Booth. A CLUB.

Conversation with Sebastiano, Design Dept.

Until yesterday, we observed the trade show system, designed it, built it—for others. This time, however, we became an active part of it. And the first question we asked ourselves was inevitable: what happens if we flip our perspective?

"We wanted to turn the way we usually experience trade shows upside down. It was our first time attending as exhibitors rather than just designers. We wanted it to feel special, almost like a celebration".

From there, the idea of the CLUB came about.

Not a simple exhibition space, but an experience to be lived. An environment capable of telling our story even before we did.

Was it just an exercise in style? No. Or rather, yes—but more than that."I won’t lie—it was an exercise in style. But deciding to engage with major companies, meeting them at their level, was an act of courage and perhaps a bit of madness". Courage and a touch of madness—these are values that define us.

If the space were a statement, it might have carried a single phrase:"You cannot think about architecture without thinking about people" — Richard Rogers

Our hope was that this thought would become the silent takeaway for every visitor.

The CLUB, without rhetoric

Here is the translation, keeping that sharp, fluid, and narrative tone:

The word “CLUB” might suggest something exclusive, but for the DASS CLUB it was quite the opposite: a radically inclusive experience, where selection is only about workflow management, never identity. Right from the entrance, the goal was to channel the purest energy—the energy of relationships. It is a young, fresh approach, a mindset that stems from the founders and runs through the entire team.

Inside the space, something unusual for a trade fair had to happen: we wanted to amaze, connect, and open up conversations. "Attraction is a beautiful way to entertain," and we chose to do just that by building connections and sparking ideas. All topped off with beers and DJ sets—we are in Germany, after all.

Design Language

Here is the English translation, preserving the focus on the quotes, the design vocabulary, and the fluid narrative rhythm:

From the very beginning, one thing was clear: we were not supposed to design a stand. "The only brief was that we shouldn’t design a stand, but rather recreate a situation to be experienced,” a conscious choice, despite the risks it involved.

Conventional comfort was not the priority: "Physical comfort isn’t really our area. It’s too open to interpretation. We allowed ourselves the luxury of doing whatever we wanted, for once… with all the consequences that came with it.”

In this layout, emptiness played a central role, building continuity and projecting color beyond physical boundaries. It is the perfect synthesis of Oscar Niemeyer’s philosophy: “Architectural work is not only the object, but also what surrounds it, the voids and the spaces.” If this space had been a musical rhythm, it wouldn't have had a defined genre: "I would like everyone to have their own interpretation,” because that, too, is inclusivity. To close the loop are the more radical details, like the 10x10 cm tiles that recall the grid pattern: a technical, precise, and deeply identity-driven gesture.

Risk as a Choice

Among the elements that drew the most attention was the dithering wall at the back of the reception area. "No one—under any circumstances—would have convinced me to execute it using a different method". It was a firm stance.

Of course, there were moments of doubt: "The most difficult and demanding client is ourselves." In an open-plan studio, no one holds back. It’s a stimulating creative process, even under pressure.

We left room for the unexpected. All of it possible."Leaving space for the unforeseen is the best way to deal with it".

It would have been easier to create a booth that was aesthetically pleasing but neutral. No risks. No tension. No soul.

We chose not to do that.

The Real Impact

Here is the English translation, keeping that same authentic, bold, and human tone—completely free of bullet points and tailored for a design-forward audience:

"It would have been easier to build an aesthetically pleasing but neutral stand. Without risks. Without tension. Without a soul. We chose not to.

We took full responsibility for our choices, such as the dithering wall at the back of the reception area ("No one, for any reason, could have convinced me to execute it differently"), accepting the pressure of being our own most difficult and demanding clients. In an open-space studio, no one holds back their opinion, but leaving room for the unexpected is the best way to face it.

When did we realize it was working? In people’s behavior. New potential partners, clients, and suppliers stopped by to share thoughts over a coffee or a beer. A crossroads of exchanges where quality won over quantity. The initial fear was the horror vacui—or rather, the “club vacui”. In hindsight, it went pretty well.

The CLUB wasn’t just a space at a trade fair. It was a way of declaring who we are. And perhaps, even more, who we want to become."

The CLUB is not just a space at the trade show.

It was a way of declaring who we are.

And perhaps, even more so, who we want to become.