Occupying a substantial chunk of South America's central western landmass, Peru is a treasure trove of both landscapes and natural resources. Within its three regions--coastal, mountain, and rain forest--there is little variation in summer and winter temperatures and, except for its high mountain areas, its climate stays between tropical and subtropical. Thanks to the lack of weather extremes, outdoor activities--and the spaces in which to do them--are a principal factor in designing homes and other buildings. Pergolas and other semi-coverings make it possible to create or expand shaded areas, allowing you to enjoy the outdoors in the comfort of your home.
As the world of construction becomes more automated, driven by economy, speed, and bureaucracy, architect and professor Marc Leschelier has created an exhibition at the Architektur Im Magazin Vienna, Austria, which inverts this trend. Titled “Cold Cream” the exhibition creates a secluded space, dissociated from the world, where the practice of construction is reduced to the struggle between soft and hard matters as well as spontaneous rises. The exhibition is therefore not an act of architecture, but rather approaching a form of pre-architecture.
Schauman & Nordgren Architects, a Copenhagen and Helsinki based architecture and urban planning studio, was selected as the winner of the two-stage competition, organized by the city of Turku in Finland, to transform a former elderly home site into a new 15.000 m2 housing neighborhood.
OMA has just finalized Potato Head Studios, a hotel, first of its kind, dedicated to both guests and the local community. Located in Seminyak, Bali, the building’s design, led by David Gianotten and project architect Ken Fung, opens the ground floor for public cultural events and activities.
New York City Council and the Van Alen Institute have announced a new design competition to reimagine the Brooklyn Bridge. The international competition seeks creative, unconventional designs that respect and enhance the bridge’s landmark status, think inclusively about mobility and access, and accommodate commuters, visitors, and vendors.
This time last year, Hungarian Prime Minister Victor Orbán stood at a podium in a pristine new subway station. Raw concrete beams criss-crossed above him; state-of-the art, driverless trains stood silently beside him. It was the opening ceremony for Line 4, a subway line that due to delays, corruption, and disputes had been 40 years in the making.
“The people of Budapest began to accept the thought that only their grandchildren would use Budapest’s new Metro line, or not even them.” Orbán told the crowd. He recounted an old joke that embodied the cynicism that once surrounded the project: Chuck Norris had been on Metro Line 4.
Orbán credited the line’s completion, which occurred only a few weeks before the 2014 parliamentary elections, to “the solidarity and unity that was established in 2010 [when Orbán’s government took power] and has since been maintained.” He didn’t mention how, under his first government (1998 to 2002), he had withheld funds from the project, contributing significantly to its delay. Nor did he mention that his party had fought against the idea that the line, an expensive infrastructural project, needed architecture at all.
Today, though, the line’s stunning architecture is its most noticeable feature. Line 4 is not just a watershed achievement in Hungary’s history, but also a symbol of what it takes to make contemporary architecture in Hungary today. Both literally and figuratively, contemporary architecture had to go underground.
