The renowned Bofill studio has formally acknowledged its authorship of Government Villa No. 5, known as “Villa nr. Red”. Yet behind that acknowledgement lies the fact that the concept was reportedly donated to the government, which paid another studio to develop the design. Albanian citizens have a right to know how it was commissioned, how it was financed and what relationships made it possible.
The Rama government’s “Villa nr. Red”, for which contracts worth more than €5 million were announced, is back in the public eye. This time through photographs published by Bofill Taller de Arquitectura, the studio that has finally presented itself formally as the project’s author, while procurement records identify Atelier 4 as the studio contracted for the design. Bofill says it donated the concept; exactly what each studio did, and how the credits relate to the contracted work, remains to be clarified.
It has now included the villa in its portfolio as a collaboration with Arquitectura-G, without mentioning the Albanian studio run by brothers Alban, Andi and Olsi Efthimi, Atelier 4, which the government hired through closed procedures.
The red-tinted concrete, inner courtyard and bright spaces are celebrated as a carefully considered architectural intervention worth seeing. The publication credits Maxime Delvaux for the photographs.
For an ordinary architectural studio, this is the usual way to present a project. But Bofill has an international reputation, while “Villa nr. Red” has a troubling public history.
It is the story of a state-owned property whose refurbishment was awarded without an open competition and whose concept, according to Bofill, was donated to the government. Contracts worth more than €5 million were announced for design, construction and supervision through procedures without prior publication, while the requested documents were not made available.
That is precisely the narrative missing from the photographs and portfolios of Bofill, Arquitectura-G and Atelier 4. Of course, an Instagram or website post cannot contain the entire record of this story. Yet when an international studio gains prestige from a publicly funded project while citizens are denied an explanation of it, I believe questions about responsibility and the “international standard” must continue to be asked.
That is why I am returning to this story once again.
A donated concept and publicly funded contracts

In the reporting we published on Citizens.al in December 2025 about “Villa nr. Red”, the central question was how the work on the former Villa No. 5, on the eastern side of the hills around Tirana’s lake, had been carried out, and what the public could learn about its costs.
Bofill’s response was clear on one point. The studio said it had developed the concept on its own initiative and offered it free of charge to the government, which owns the building. But if the concept was offered without payment, what document governed the relationship between the studio and the government?
I believe that distinction matters: the studio did not say the villa’s refurbishment had been carried out without public money.
Procurement records show contracts with Atelier 4 for design, with Ad-Star for construction and with Dricons for supervision. The design contract was worth 4.68 million lek including VAT, approximately €40,000; construction was contracted at 593.64 million lek, approximately €5.27 million; and supervision at 6.72 million lek, approximately €60,000.
These are the announced contract values, not a verified account of final expenditure. In autumn 2025, when we filmed drone footage, we observed work on new waterproofing for the villa’s roof terrace.
The main procedures were negotiated without prior publication. The records show one bidder for design, two for construction and three for supervision. There were therefore bids on the table, but no open competition in which anyone meeting the requirements could participate.
The Directorate of Government Services defended its use of this procedure by citing legislation governing procurement in defence and security. The contracts and full justification remained inaccessible to me as a journalist and to Citizens.al as the media outlet seeking the information.
This is where the problem begins that no photograph can resolve. The architect who conceives the arrangement of space and the architect who specifies how it will be built perform different tasks. The existence of both stages does not establish double payment. The question is what each studio did and how the architectural credits relate to the contracted work.
What exactly did Bofill deliver? When, and through what formal act, did the government accept the “gift”? What rights of use did the state receive? What tasks were assigned to the studio that would develop the concept, in this case Atelier 4? How was the work coordinated with Arquitectura-G, which now appears in the international credits?
These are ordinary questions about a publicly funded intervention. Atelier 4 has not answered the questions in my reporting about its role and authorship. Likewise, the government has provided no document clarifying the matter.
Bofill does not mention that the villa is a government residence, nor does it name Atelier 4 in its portfolio. I believe this makes an explanation of the relationship between architectural credits and paid contractual obligations all the more necessary.
The “mirror government”, as Rama now likes to present his approach to transparency, may protect sensitive details of a state residence. But it must explain why, and to what extent, that prevents transparency about the choice of contractors, the division of work and the use of public money.
What is a donated project worth?

The word “gift” makes the relationship sound simple. An international studio provides work for free, and the state benefits, in a narrative that tells citizens they should be pleased to receive that studio’s project without paying anything.
But I believe a project’s value cannot be measured by its invoice alone. Above all, work on a government building brings exposure and may create contacts, credibility and access to a small sector that is relatively closed in its outlook and decision-making, as Albania’s construction industry is.
Such work may have professional and commercial value even when the studio receives no direct payment for it.
Of course, the possibility I am analysing does not prove a secret or corrupt agreement. I have no documents proving that Bofill exchanged its “voluntary work” on the villa’s concept for a tower project in Tirana, a resort in Dhërmi or any other favour.
I do not believe serious criticism requires me to invent such connections. I simply need to ask whether any rule or mechanism prevents this hypothetical kind of relationship.
How is the studio whose “donated project” is accepted chosen? Is there a competition? When calls for paid projects struggle to attract well-known international practices, how are such studios attracted to unpaid work?
How, and by whom, is the public need determined in these cases? Where are alternatives compared? Are the studio’s other interests in the country disclosed? Are there conditions, obligations or rights attached to the claimed donation?
Without these answers, the word “free” seems to be used to close the debate precisely where it should begin. The foreign studio is freely given a public space in which to demonstrate its abilities, and those in power gain the prestige of its name.
In this bleak picture, Albanian citizens cannot establish whether the public benefits are as clear as the gains in image, reputation and relationships.
I believe the “Villa nr. Red” case exposes how architecture is used to embellish the relationship with power while leaving the way decisions are made outside the discussion.
This is precisely where international studios have an ethical and professional responsibility. I do not believe it is enough to leave all transparency to the client, especially when the client is the state, represented by the government. They can explain their own part: who invited them, what they offered, what they contracted to do and whom they worked with.
In my view, renowned names should raise the standard of accountability, not lower it. In Albania, however, they have been used to silence those who ask questions: their Albanian colleagues, journalists and critical citizens.
Albania through architects’ portfolios

The villa is one example of a broader question: how much do we know about the clients and relationships behind the projects appearing in architects’ portfolios? “Villa nr. Red” takes on a wider meaning when placed alongside The Albanian Files, the publication bringing together Albanian projects by dozens of international studios, with a foreword by Edi Rama.
The book, published in summer 2026 after the second edition of the “Bread & Heart” festival, reveals the extent of international studios’ involvement in Albania, but not always who commissioned their projects.
According to Lorin Kadiu’s analysis, 41% of the projects counted in the publication had no identified client. Yet, viewed more broadly, it remains one of the most informative publications about the construction we have seen in Albania over the past decade.
The Albanian Files sheds light on the projects and designers that have changed Tirana, the natural landscapes, the coastline and the skylines of Albania’s main cities. But it does not tell us who commissioned those changes in every case.
Rama has defended The Albanian Files as an independent publication and challenged critical interpretations of it. But a book’s editorial independence is no substitute for institutional transparency about the projects it presents. Nor can a criminal investigation replace that transparency.
Public responsibility does not begin only when prosecutors intervene. Institutions and professionals must speak, explain their roles, positions and decisions, even when no investigations have begun.
That is why I believe Bofill’s new publication, expanding its portfolio with its “red works” in Albania, offers a useful occasion to return the discussion to this point.
The studio would do well to publish the full history of its involvement, including its relationship with the government, Prime Minister Edi Rama and his close associates.
The Directorate of Government Services can release the contracting documents, withholding only those details for which there is a specific security or commercial justification.
The government should explain how it accepts donated projects, how it prevents conflicts of interest and privileged relationships, and how it guarantees Albanian architects’ freedom of artistic and intellectual expression.
None of this diminishes the value of good architecture. On the contrary, I believe it makes a proper assessment of that value more possible. Bofill has shown us what “Villa nr. Red” looks like. We have yet to see its full account.
AI illustration.