The church of pets in Tirana

When we speed past it on the highway as evening falls over Tirana, its curved concrete walls – reminiscent of the Ronchamp chapel – and the faintly glowing cross on its façade make me think it might be a modern church. But what an unusual shape! The next morning, before heading on to Berat, we turn off the main road and stop in front of it.

By now, and according to the map, we see that it’s not a church at all, but a hospital – an animal hospital, to be precise. Yet it is no less striking. The concave concrete walls don’t enclose the building; they merely trace its outline, wrapping around it like sails around a ship. Between these “sails,” the main body of the hospital emerges: straight, irregular cornices and expansive glass walls stand in contrast to the curves, and above it all, a “deck” dotted with small pomegranate and olive trees.

On the deck, a watchful “sailor” greets us: a grinning doctor dressed in black, who, seeing our cameras, asks if we’d like to visit the rooftop terrace. Of course we do. He comes down for us, leads us across the reception, along corridors covered with irregular circular forms, and up to the first floor.

The two rooftop terraces are defined by the same concave “sails,” wrapping around raised planters and connecting seamlessly with the surrounding environment. Here, it becomes clear that the choice of concrete was far from arbitrary – it harmonizes beautifully with the neighboring buildings. We are in one of Tirana’s most elegant districts, where modern residential blocks rise gently among rolling hills. Several prominent international architectural firms have left their mark here with bold structures. The hospital fits in perfectly, yet its sinuous curves allow it to stand apart, like a monumental Henry Moore sculpture in the middle of the space.

“It had to be visually striking,” says our guide, Emre Aslan – Emery Lion – who came from Ankara to Tirana to establish the hospital alongside three Albanian veterinarians. “In Albania, nothing happens without connections. We had none, so getting approval for a conventional hospital would have been hopeless. But nowadays, if you can present a project as art, the authorities bite. And that’s exactly what happened here.”

The design was entrusted to the Swiss firm Davide Macullo. It’s worth checking their website – they capture the hospital in photographs far more beautiful than I could manage on our brief visit, observing the doctor and trying to avoid capturing my scattered companions.

Emre was personally involved in the design, consulting with the architect and providing feedback on the plans. “Originally, the building was supposed to be all windows,” he shows me on his phone. “Like a giant Emmental cheese. So I asked Davide to remove the windows.” The result is the current solid, fortress-like structure, whose brutalism surprisingly echoes Albania’s recent architectural traditions. Yet the rounded forms soften the rigidity, recalling Alvar Aalto’s organic modernism, Oscar Niemeyer’s curved concrete creations, or Le Corbusier’s late works, like the Ronchamp chapel.

“When we passed it in the dark, I thought it was a church,” I say. “There’s a modern church being built nearby,” he replies, “but ours is much more beautiful. That one…” He searches for a comparison, “…looks like a hospital.” “You could swap buildings, so each function has its own,” I suggest. “Ah, I like this better,” he says. “We serve God too, just in a different way – by healing His creatures.”

It turns out that not only is the building original, but the hospital is also the finest in all of Albania. “We are the only ones practicing animal dentistry,” he explains. “I’m the only specialist in the country. Cats are particularly vulnerable because, living on kibble, they don’t chew enough and their teeth deteriorate. We even make dentures for them.” I imagine a cat, before bed, removing its tiny dentures and placing them in a small glass on the nightstand – but it turns out they are fixed in place. “We once had to perform brain surgery on a large dog. A Turkish specialist was invited, and the local human hospital offered their operating room. But he came, looked at ours, and said ours was much better.”

The hospital has already won numerous awards, been featured in many architectural journals, and regularly attracts photographers. “In this neighborhood,” he points out, “people initially protested having an animal hospital next door. They tried everything to block it. But since it opened in 2024, they see how famous it has become – and they’re proud. It enhances the entire area – and the value of their apartments too.”