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Markus Hääl: “Tallinn isn’t a high-quality city – but we can change that”

14.05.2025

When people talk about urban development, the focus is usually on buildings, business plans, and square meters. But what if we start with people? The story of Hundipea isn’t that of a typical real estate project. It’s a long-term effort to create a new kind of urban environment that’s more than just a place to move into. We spoke with Markus Hääl, the CEO of Hundipea, about how a former industrial port could become Tallinn’s new benchmark for urban quality: a space where architecture meets people, nature, and the freedom to experiment.

[This article was originally published in Edasi on 28.04.2025]

To get everyone on the same page, where exactly is Hundipea?

Hundipea is located in Tallinn, more precisely in Paljassaare, North Tallinn. Over the coming decades, a new neighbourhood will evolve in the current industrial port territory.

How did the idea of Hundipea come about?

The idea dates back over 18 years. In 1999, a piece in Eesti Päevaleht titled “President Meri shows Laar and Mõis a young family’s dream” introduced the vision of turning Paljassaare into a residential district. President Lennart Meri believed Tallinn should be opened to the sea.

The full concept for Hundipea as we know it today draws from a structural plan developed in 2007. Fast-forward to 2019: Architect Indrek Allmann and an active landowner saw potential during a joint site visit. The idea was born: “Let’s do something that hasn’t been done before in Estonia.” This became Hundipea OÜ, a cooperative company uniting local landowners to co-create a diverse urban space. Both Estonian and international experts have called it a “very unique situation.”

What makes it unique?

First, all landowners are equal. Costs and revenues are shared proportionally, which allows the entire 41-hectare area to be developed as one. Each landowner contributes their plot to a joint company, where every piece is valued equally. Whether a plot becomes a home, a street, or a park, its value grows equally, like shares in a company.

Second, the scale. Few developments in Estonia have this much continuous land under shared planning.

Third, Hundipea generates a steady income through the port infrastructure. Owning and operating the water, electricity, sewerage, and port infrastructure provides continuous revenue that can be reinvested into long-term planning, expert research, and infrastructure.

You are taking a different approach to urban development than usual. What does that mean in practice?

Most developments are driven by strict timelines and business models. Development happens plot by plot, often without considering the big picture. That’s how we get neighbourhoods where the buildings exist but no access to public transport or green space.

Hundipea is different. We’re planning the 41 hectares as a whole. We’re not under pressure to sell quickly. Even once everything is built, we’ll continue to manage the area. That long-term responsibility changes everything.

A good reference is Nordhavn in Copenhagen – a neighbourhood designed with similar long-term thinking. By contrast, take Tallinn’s Kalaranna: buildings are finished, but the public space lacks life.

Hundipea will operate the area itself. That gives us even more incentive to think sustainably and design for the long term.

How does Hundipea shift the paradigm? How can it improve Tallinn as a whole?

People struggle to imagine what they haven’t seen. Without real-life examples, change is hard to visualise.

Hundipea can be a safe testing ground to prototype, learn, and revise. When we begin construction, we won’t build everything at once. A slow pace over decades lets us try spatial, social, technical, and ecological solutions before they’re applied more widely. That could include reusing building materials, encouraging biodiversity, and ensuring affordable housing – all tested together, not in isolation.

If this mindset spreads – that experimentation is okay, and so is failure – that alone would make for a better city.

This impact isn’t limited to Tallinn. We can help answer universal urban planning questions: How do we ensure accessibility? Where do we place the benches and toilets? What makes a city liveable across all life stages?

Because we will manage the area ourselves, every decision must be sustainable for us, future residents, and businesses. That’s why we base everything on data. We conduct research on topics ranging from eDNA to microclimate studies to material durability. We’re not experimenting for fun – we’re building a knowledge base on topics ranging from eDNA analysis and future climate modelling to material sustainability.

That’s the impact: creating a place where experimentation leads to a new way of city-making. As the architect Indrek Allmann, co-author of the Hundipea vision, said: “No, it’s not about drawing buildings. It’s not even about planning. It’s about creating the foundation for a new kind of quality.”

We’re also developing tools in parallel, such as urban playbooks that can be used by others, too.

You’ve previously said a good city is one where everyone feels safe, comfortable, and welcome. Does Tallinn meet that standard?

In short: no. There are bright spots, but overall, Tallinn is too fragmented. Most coherent neighbourhoods come from the Soviet era: Õismäe, Lasnamäe, and Mustamäe. They’re planned as a whole but soviet style – on outdated principles.

Hundipea’s master plan is based on cooperation, flexibility, and people-first thinking, not top-down control. We see Paljassaare port area not as a single plot but as a chance to create a connected, inclusive district where life works at every age and stage.

And what might future residents or visitors experience?

Diversity – in function, in people, in services. Tallinn is a coastal city. Hundipea adds three kilometres of new access to the sea. There will be a promenade, saunas, space to relax, and space for marine hobbies.

Housing will be available for all income levels, as will workspaces: not just offices but studios, workshops, and services.

And collaboration: Someone suggests a community garden. Someone else finds a person who knows about gardening. Another brings soil. People connect, sometimes unexpectedly. That’s the point: to create a human-scale shared space.

People will feel that this place is cared for and want to care for it, too. You pick up the trash because it feels like yours.

You mentioned digital tools – how do they support planning?

We’ve modelled everything: sea currents, microclimates, heat islands, CO2 emissions, and energy needs. We’ve benchmarked the data against Natura zones. The sea floor here is degraded from industrial use, so it’s a chance to regenerate biodiversity.

Is there a risk to the nearby Natura reserve?

No. Hundipea will replace brownfield land, not protected nature. We aim to attract people to a space that offers access to nature in the city so they won’t overuse fragile natural zones.

Who are your current collaborators, and who are you considering working with?

We’ve collaborated extensively with TalTech and other field experts to consider carefully and model topics like energy supply, climate resilience, building materials, and our digital toolbox – all based on the best available knowledge. From seawater energy and flood risk to solar panel placement, carbon footprint, and future climate scenarios, we don’t make assumptions; we investigate and consider them.

We’ve also worked with the Centre for Applied Anthropology to map out the expectations and concerns of Northern Tallinn residents.

The foundations for our first playbook are being developed in collaboration with Christian Pagh, long-time director of the Oslo Architecture Triennale and advisor to cities on strategic development, architecture, and spatial design. Recently, Denmark’s largest architecture firm, Cobe, reached out to us – just to make sure we wouldn’t forget them.

We’ve also actively travelled across Europe and learned directly from practitioners. For example, we visited the office of Hermann Kaufmann – one of Europe’s most respected timber architects – where we received a detailed tour and introduction to contemporary wood construction methods. These kinds of experiences help us better understand how to bring leading practices to Estonia and how to share valuable Estonian ideas abroad.

Our goal is not just to gain know-how, but to interpret it through an Estonian lens. For instance, in Estonia, there’s a strong emphasis on the percentage of greenery in developments – something that isn’t really tracked in Denmark or the Netherlands.

We want as much input as possible from across Europe – to learn what works, what doesn’t, what we should introduce more of in Estonia, and how it all fits into our local perspective. The more diverse the viewpoints, the stronger the decisions. Our task is to turn that knowledge into practical solutions that work for Hundipea – and help shape future cities elsewhere, too.

When you started in 2020, where did you think Hundipea would be by now?

I thought we’d already have the construction going on. In the big picture, we’re about a year and a half to two years behind schedule. But to be fair, we’ve had to spend much time dealing with bureaucracy and administrative procedures. By the way, in the five years* I’ve been involved in the project, 40% of the officials we’ve worked with have changed. Restructuring within the city is positive overall, but sometimes, you feel like a victim of the slow settling of institutional processes.

That said, if we set aside the delays, I’d say we’ve come a long way in terms of the quality of urban space we’re planning. From a personal perspective, I’ve been able to do less than I would have liked. Fortunately, I have a great team – when I’m tied up in bureaucracy, they keep things moving forward.

*Planning for the Hundipea area began in 2005, and detailed planning work has ongoing since 2007.

What challenges have you encountered so far?

Upon entering the real estate field, my biggest surprise was how marketing- and branding-driven real estate sales are – everything is “beautiful,” “exclusive.” It’s nauseating. My background is in technology, and after working in software and hardware, it struck me as especially odd how little attention is paid in real estate to actual user experience. UX/UI – user experience and user interface – often don’t exist at all. Little thought is given to how a person truly uses a space or feels in it.

It was also surprising to realise how many “soft” aspects there are – things that the surface-level branding of “beautiful” and “exclusive” can’t even begin to capture. I enjoy thinking about bringing those softer values together to create an enabling foundation for people. A foundation that actually helps people function well in the city – in work, daily life, and leisure. Not just a pretty facade but a space that supports human needs and opens up new possibilities.

The most difficult – and at the same time, most exciting – challenge is making long-term decisions: how we build the infrastructure, whether we build our own heat production system in the sea, how to combine different philosophies and find what really works in urban space.

On paper, we know how to read all kinds of best-practice models, but we’ve still verified them for our own peace of mind. For example, we reviewed the UN’s urban sustainability report, The Weight of the Cities, and checked how its recommendations hold up in the Estonian context. We also analysed how Estonian shopping centres actually work – how many people need to move through them daily to be economically viable.

The result confirmed our gut feeling: there won’t be another massive Ülemiste shopping center in Hundipea. Instead, we need streets with shops and services – places that bring people out and encourage movement and interaction, unlike shopping malls, which pull them in and isolate them.

How has the journey with Hundipea influenced your own outlook on work and life in general?

At some point, you have to ask yourself: Do I want to spend five more years banging my head against the wall, or do something else with my life? It always comes back to making compromises.

For Hundipea to become what it can be, urban planners need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture – how different parts of the city environment relate to one another and what kind of whole they create. In current planning practices, making connections and finding balance should be emphasised more clearly. It’s not just about where individual elements are placed, but also what’s on the other side of them, and how the pieces complement each other. An open mindset is needed to find compromises so that different interests can work together in shaping the city.

Earlier, you mentioned hidden gems in urban space – what are some places that give you that feeling? What kind of feeling should readers imagine when they think of Hundipea?

For me, it’s the courtyard near Haapsalu Castle in summertime when the cafés are open, the tables and chairs spill out onto the street, and you have both visual and physical contact with the city and its people. That’s where the feeling arises. Or when you’re walking in the south of France or Italy, sipping an espresso and watching the city go by – pedestrians, cyclists, and other traffic all sharing the same street – that’s the atmosphere dense urban fabric can create.

In Käsmu, when the village shop opens for the season, it brings people together. In Käsmu, everything is conveniently close – this is exactly the 15-minute principle we’re applying in Hundipea: everything you need is within walking or biking distance.

All these places create a sense that goes beyond facades. There are no walls, no cold surfaces.

If you were to write a book not at all related to Hundipea or business, what would it be about?

Some time ago, I would have answered something about technology. Now, it would be more about people and psychology – maybe about extremes or blind faith … But honestly? The truth is that I probably won’t ever write a book (laughs).