The truth is that, with every edition, we realize something essential. We always hope for more. Not “more people”, not “more spectacle”, but more time to look, more room for conversation, more surrender to the process. And, in an almost paradoxical way, the more space we create, the more timid people seem to become. When we expose architecture without social crutches, people’s bodies change. They enter slowly, feeling as if they might be interrupting something or occupying a place that doesn’t belong to them. And yet, everything there was set up for them.

Perhaps it has become clearer that the invitation was not to “a party at the studio,” but to step into the heart of the practice. Where we work, where we fail, where we persist, where we discuss, where we build, and where we succeed. Maybe that’s what makes people hesitant. They enter slowly, look around, almost seeking confirmation that they really are invited. Eventually, they realize that, in CA Dentro, architecture is not disguised. It is exactly as it is.

Over the course of the two days, we watched the same choreography repeat itself. First, the slow step through the door; then the gaze that scans the space in search of something; next, that moment of approaching the walls and the tables, as if peeking into an intimacy; and only then the question, or the comment, or the smile. The rhythm of people said a lot.

We felt that delicate relationship between opening and being opened. The doors were wide open, yet some people still took time to feel invited. Perhaps because there is no spectacle, perhaps because there is no easy narrative, perhaps because here we show the real version. And that truth has substance: the long meetings, the doubts, the tests, the details and the small obsessions that no one sees but that keep everything standing. Showing it is vulnerable, and it is precisely for that reason that it makes sense. Opening the studio is acknowledging that architecture is not born ready; it is born from continuous work. Showing that does not diminish us. It brings us closer.

The opening of our studio on Avenida 31 de Janeiro reinforced that feeling. Over the course of the two days, we saw the space being used exactly as we had always imagined it. A place for meeting, for thinking, for dialogue. That use gives back to us something essential: the studio only truly exists when there is circulation of people and ideas.

And despite the natural tiredness after two long days, we were left with the same feeling we’ve had since the first edition: that it isn’t over. CA Dentro ends on the calendar, but not in practice. What we showed was not an event, but our way of being in architecture.

The doors close again, yes. But they do not close completely. They continue to open to whoever arrives, without a program, without notice, without a formal invitation. That is the quiet part of CA Dentro—the permanence of the gesture.

We always hope for more. Not out of excessive ambition, but because our architecture lives in that constant demand to go a little further.

And if there is something these two days have confirmed, it is this: it is always worth opening the door.

Even when some take their time to step inside.