POV: The physical design studio is waning. Could a residency model replace it?

The words ‘hybrid’ and ‘flexible’ suggest malleability and evolution. Yet, in working culture, we’ve quickly and comfortably settled into a fixed definition of hybrid: two to three days a week in the studio or office, the rest at home, juggling Slack notifications and the progress of the washing machine. So, when we, at It’s Nice That, heard that Two Times Elliott – surely one of the UK’s most renowned independent design names – had closed the doors of its permanent studio space, we wondered if we were about to see a new definition of hybrid emerge, and if it could ever replace the benefits of a routine workspace. Here, founder James Horwitz fills us in on a new way of working that the studio is building towards.

Some decisions happen really fast. Others take their time. Closing our studio at Two Times Elliott was one of the latter. It was not a sudden shift or a reaction to circumstance. It was something we sat with, debated and questioned. Some of our team had thrived in the studio, while others thrived outside of it. Some needed the rhythm of a shared space, while others craved deep focus. So began a journey of finding a way of working flexible enough to accommodate it all. The answer isn’t fully activated yet, but we think we’re getting closer to a solution.

As a design studio, we’ve operated in various physical spaces in London for over a decade. As with most designers, the studio was where we did our best thinking, where our work was shaped in real-time. It was where the team, the energy and the environment all came together to turn ideas into something more. Even when looking back at our first base – a ridiculously small, super scrappy space in the middle of an industrial park, barely held together by a love for what we were building – the studio provided grounding and focus.

But over time, something shifted. At the start of 2024, like most people, we worked in a hybrid manner – typically four days a week in the studio, though this varied by project. Some weeks, we were all there, building together. Other weeks, our space in East London was quieter as people worked remotely or met with clients on-site. During this time, we began to notice that while the studio still mattered, it was no longer the defining factor in our work. What’s more, the way we thought, collaborated and built projects was constantly evolving. We realised we had been holding onto a way of working that had already changed – without fully acknowledging it.

So, we questioned it. Over the years, we’ve found that our best thinking (and work) didn’t always happen at the same desk, in the same room, with the same view. Some of the most interesting moments came from changing our surroundings – whether that involved a shift in environment, a new city, or simply stepping out of routine. We started asking, what if we were more intentional about this? Instead of waiting for inspiration to come to us, what if we chose spaces for their ability to contribute to the work, rather than just accommodate it?

This thinking has led us to consider a new model of residencies: short-term, high-impact spaces that adapt to the work at hand. A city space when we need energy. A retreat when we need focus. This idea is still taking shape, but ideally, we will design our year around these moments. Some projects might benefit from deeply collaborative moments, others might not. It is, and will never be, about volume – but about intention. At this point, the goal is to create the best conditions for great work, wherever that may be. This could mean working in settings that aren’t traditionally considered ‘studios’ – hotels, libraries, borrowed spaces or restaurants before they open. Or it could mean turning a team meeting into a new kind of interaction – if we need to build something tactile, for example, we will be in a workshop.

As part of this work, we spent a lot of time listening to the team. We learned that many work best in the energy of others, while some need a structure that gives them space so they can bring their best thinking when it matters most. We also listened to what people missed from studio life pre-lockdowns: the moments that could not be replicated remotely. The moments of real, unexpected collaboration – because we all know creativity is rarely linear, and the best ideas don’t often play ball with a schedule.

These are complex, multilayered needs that many founders are now trying to address. A studio gives you routine. It creates its own energy. It’s easy to walk into a space where everything is set up, conversations happen naturally and culture builds itself over time. That is so much harder without a fixed space. It takes a lot more effort. It requires us to be more intentional about when we come together, where we collaborate and how we maintain the sense of momentum that a studio naturally provides.

However, from a new model, we stand to gain agility. The ability to bring people together when it matters, rather than assuming presence is always necessary. To create the right conditions for creativity, rather than expecting creativity to fit inside a single space. More than anything, we gain the ability to listen to our team, and to adapt based on when we all work at our absolute best, rather than simply holding onto something that worked for us before.

As we move further into 2025, our focus remains the same. Great work with and for great people. A way of working that supports both. We are no longer tied to a single location, but we are building something new. A studio that moves with us.