A shelter should be the liveliest room in the building

A shelter should not be a dark, locked basement that people enter only when the air‑raid siren sounds, but one of the liveliest shared spaces in the building, according to a recently defended master's thesis.
When we talk about shelters in apartment buildings, most people picture empty, dim basements that are only entered in an emergency. Gert Christjanson, a recent master's graduate in interior architecture from the Estonian Academy of Arts, believes that this way of thinking is the problem. In his view, a shelter should be a room that people use every day — whether as a playroom, shared office, repair cellar or party hall.
Christjanson's master's thesis focused on the cross‑use of basements in Soviet‑era apartment buildings. He examined experiences from Estonia, Finland and Denmark and concluded that a well‑functioning shelter does not emerge solely from meeting technical requirements, but from whether people regard it as a natural part of their everyday living environment.
Use of shelters in peacetime
The topic is becoming especially relevant now that new requirements for building shelter solutions have entered into force in Estonia. Although the guidelines thoroughly address safety and technical conditions, Christjanson believes far less attention has been paid to how these rooms could actually be used in peacetime.
"If a person has already spent time in that room before, then in a crisis they know better where to go and what to expect there," he said.

In his view, a shelter should not be a place whose door is opened for the first time only when the air‑raid siren sounds. "Right now, the room only becomes active in a crisis situation. But if there is everyday life happening there, then it is maintained, in order and familiar to people," he noted.
One part of the thesis involved fieldwork in apartment buildings in Tallinn. Although technical requirements were often met, the author noticed one recurring problem: the rooms were locked in everyday life and residents did not use them. As a result, they effectively became passive technical spaces.
In his opinion, it is not enough that the room meets all the requirements. "If it is simply locked up, then it doesn't live. It is also important how these rooms relate to the everyday lives of the residents," he said.
A sports hall or community center
The interior architect believes that a shelter could be a shared space that people go to even on a completely ordinary Tuesday evening. "If we get the ventilation working, remove the dampness and clean the room, then I think cross‑use certainly won't be hindered by that," he said.
The experiences from Finland impressed the author the most. There, shelters are not treated merely as crisis infrastructure but are integrated into everyday life. The same room can function as a sports hall, gym, playroom, music studio or community center and, when needed, can quickly be put into use as a shelter.
According to Christjanson, cross‑use does not mean that the room has to be crammed full of things. "When we talk about furniture, it should be dual‑purpose," he said. For example, benches could also serve as storage units or shelves and be quickly rearranged if necessary. "This cross‑use can extend down to very small details: a shelf can be a bench and a bench can be a shelf," he explained.

In his thesis, Christjanson concludes that a well‑functioning shelter does not depend only on construction solutions. Equally important are mutual trust among residents and their willingness to use the shared space.
During fieldwork, he visited, among other places, an apartment building on Vase tänav in Tallinn, where all shared rooms are constantly open to residents. According to him, such a deliberate decision helps avoid situations where neighbors begin to suspect one another and every missing item triggers a search for someone to blame. In the thesis, he concludes that unlocked doors symbolize openness and trust, and that trust is one of the cornerstones of a functioning living environment.
He also considers it important for shelters that people feel the room is theirs, rather than perceiving it as a technical facility where they normally have no reason to go. "If a person goes to that room every day, then in a crisis situation there is no question about where to go or what awaits them there," he said.
Is there enough space?
Christjanson also highlighted one problem: apartment associations' fear that if they speak publicly about their building's shelter, people from the surrounding area might come there in a crisis.
In the thesis, he describes a case where the leaders of an apartment association did not want to publicize the existence of their shelter at all because they feared there would not be enough space for everyone. At the same time, he emphasizes that non‑public shelters in apartment buildings are primarily intended for the residents of that building, and that instead of fear, associations could serve as examples, encouraging neighboring buildings to create similar solutions.
In his view, silence only deepens fear born of ignorance. "If we don't set an example, we only reinforce the feeling that others want to come to our shelter," he said.
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Editor: Argo Ideon












