Materials & ProductsExclusive Articles, from ArchDaily

Stabilized Aluminum Foam is a unique looking material that combines the aesthetics of aluminum (its texture, shades and brightness) with a spongy, porous appearance. It is produced by injecting air into a cast aluminum alloy with stabilizing agents, which after curing, creates a porous and lightweight, yet highly resistant and rigid cellular structure. Because of its mechanical and thermal properties, it is particularly useful in applications in various industries, such as automotive, aerospace and marine, especially for energy absorption, thermal insulation, and sound dampening.

"It's all about attitude and adjusting to the existing circumstances", explains Boonserm Premthada, when asked about his conceptual process. Founder of Bangkok Project Studio, and one of today's most influential Thai figures in architecture, Premthada has been the subject of Bêka & Lemoine's latest documentary, ‘Big Ears Listen With Feet’. The film highlights the personal story of the architect, unveiling all the events and happenings that shaped his unique identity and sensibility. "Deaf from birth", the short movie looks at how the architect's disability led him to listen in a different way, learning from elephants. who "despite their large ears [...] perceive sound mostly through their feet."

The world's oldest stained glass window (which is still standing) is conventionally believed to be in Augsburg Cathedral in the German state of Bavaria. Depicting the prophets David, Jonah, Daniel, Moses and Hosea, it is estimated to be nearly 1,000 years old, having undergone significant bombing during World War II. Long before that, however, mankind had been working with glass, and while today we have thin frames with crystalline sheets and a variety of properties, we had to come a long way to get here. In this article we will tell you a little about the evolution of glass windows and the technologies and possibilities that we have today.

Carbon footprint, circularity and environmental sustainability are terms that are increasingly present in many professional fields, but what do they mean? How do they relate to architecture and the built environment? We spoke with civil, environmental and sanitary engineer Lucas Rosse Caldas about these and other emerging architectural issues.

Can you imagine being able to prototype a piece of furniture at the touch of a button and testing it in just a few hours? This might become a common practice sooner than we may think. Fueled by material innovation, automation and cutting-edge technology, a new era in home decor is emerging; one where 3D printing opens up a world of creative possibilities that transcend the bounds of traditional design. Yes, furniture is still mass-produced using conventional methods –molding, cutting, bending–, but 3D printing continues to disrupt the industry. As the revolutionary technology evolves and becomes more accessible, it has unleashed an unparalleled level of creative expression and efficiency. The concept is simple: a digital design is created using 3D modeling software and then printed, layer by layer, in the form of a physical object, bringing complex geometries to life. It’s a whole new kind of digital craftsmanship.

The backyards, outdoor areas usually located at the back of the lot, are spaces dedicated to rest, entertainment and family interaction. Its setting is essential to guarantee the warmth and comfort we seek in our homes. At the same time, as they are areas exposed to rain, sun and, sometimes, snow, they also need to have resistant, durable and easy-to-maintain materials.

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Through shapes, colors, and the elements on their facades, many architects have sought to bring a sense of movement to works that are otherwise physically static. Santiago Calatrava, Jean Nouvel, and Frank Gehry are only a few of the masters who managed to provide a dynamic effect to motionless structures, highlighting the work in context using formal strategies borrowed from the plastic arts. In other cases, however, architects have also opted for physically kinetic structures that could bring a unique aesthetic or functional dimension to the work.

When children first learn to draw a house, there are four basic components they illustrate: a wall, a pitched roof, a door and one or more windows. Along with the common structural elements, windows have always been considered to be indispensable architectural features for their multiple functions. While providing views, daylight and natural ventilation, these insulate from cold and heat, protect from external threats and enhance a facade’s appearance. They are also associated with a strong poetic or symbolic value; it is through them that we are able to connect with and enjoy our surroundings, be it a beautiful natural landscape or a dense urban environment. An expressive part of any building, windows serve as a visual bridge between the inside and outside, acting somewhat as a refreshing escape from our everyday routine.

Everyone who has ever built anything—a model, a birdhouse, or small pieces of furniture—has a clear sense of the amount of things that can go wrong during the construction process. A screw that is impossible to tighten fully, a warped wooden board, an inattention or a miscalculation that can frustrate plans instantly. When we transport these small inconveniences to a building scale, with countless processes and many different people involved, we know how complex a work can become and how many things can get out of control, taking more and more time and requiring more and more resources to finish. And when we talk about a building that needs to float, be completely self-sufficient, and, after fulfilling its useful life, be completely reused—could you imagine the technical challenges of building something like this?

“Color is life; for a world without color appears to us dead.” Distinguished painter Johannes Itten described with these words the exceptional power of color in our perception of the world. As a sensory event, color not only defines what we see, but also how we feel and think; it has been shown to alter productivity, inspire decision-making, shape our perspective, and influence our well-being. Especially in architecture, these effects materialize and reach their maximum splendor. Design is, after all, a visual form of communication, and color palettes –coupled with light, shadow, texture and sheen– play a critical role in conveying a building’s message. They create the ambiance that supports the function of a space, completely transforming user experience. Even the greats have recognized this power: “Polychromy is as powerful an architectural tool as the plan and section,” Le Corbusier once said.

The aquatic environment has always fascinated dreamers and researchers. Around 1960, in the midst of the fierce space race of the Cold War, French explorer Jacques Cousteau developed equipment such as the Aqualung to unravel the depths of the sea, which remained as unexplored as outer space itself. He even stated that in 10 years we could occupy the seabed as “aquanauts” or “oceanautas,” where it would be possible to spend long periods extracting mineral resources and even growing food. Sixty years later, the seabed is still reserved for few, and mankind has been more concerned with plastic in the oceans and rising sea levels than colonizing the ocean floor. But being close to a body of water continues to attract most people. Whether out of interest or in response to risks of flooding and over-population, some have turned to utopian proposals and floating architecture, examples of which have been featured in the ArchDaily project archive. But what are the fundamental differences between building houses on land versus on water, and how do these buildings remain on the surface rather than sinking?

Somewhere between 1914 and 1915, Le Corbusier designed the Maison Dom-Ino, a groundbreaking modular structure that replaced the heavy load-bearing walls with reinforced concrete columns and slabs. The open floor plan with minimal thin elements, coupled with large glass facades, would ensure healthy natural daylight for the interior spaces as well as desirable architectural transparency that could blur the boundaries between interior and exterior —at least metaphorically.

In the past, in a less densely populated urban context, houses and buildings were built with a direct connection to the street, with no need for walls and front fences. Over time, the urban fabric was transformed, and the division between public and private spaces became increasingly evident and — under the argument of public safety — necessary. Although this division occurs in different ways in Brazilian cities, in general, walls, fences and railings are used on the facades, creating a transitional space between the building and the street, transforming the relationship between them.

"The flat floor is an invention of architects. It suits machines, not humans." Inspired by the Viennese Secessionists and Austrian artists Egon Schiele and Gustav Klimt, as well as bold Gaudinian forms, the author of this phrase, Friedensreich Hundertwasser (1928-2000), was a prolific painter, sculptor and architect. His works are marked by the dualities between discipline and indiscipline, the predictable and the unexpected, rational and irrational. In his creative adventure, Hundertwasser was not just an enemy of the straight line. He despised architectural rationalism, claiming fluid forms and striking colors.

The construction industry is one of the largest in the world, and cement and concrete are literally the building blocks of its success. Evolving from prehistoric caves to today’s towering skyscrapers, concrete structures have and will continue to be vital components of modern civilization, providing long-lasting, reliable support for buildings, roads, bridges, tunnels and dams. So much so that concrete is the most consumed material on Earth, second only to water, while the steel used to reinforce it is by far the most commonly used metal. But this doesn’t come without high environmental costs: concrete accounts for 8% of global CO2 emissions, much of which come from the extraction and transportation of aggregate materials such as sand, gravel and crushed stone.

Imagine walking into a hospital and being greeted by greenery, views, natural light streaming in through large windows and open spaces that promote calmness and serenity. These favorable conditions play a crucial role in shaping patients’ experience, making their days a little bit easier while promoting healing. In fact, good healthcare design has been shown to reduce patient stays, infection rates, medication and medical errors, as well as improve staff attraction and performance. A well-designed facility can ultimately transport patients from a sterile, clinical environment to one that is warm, inviting and even uplifting. Such is the case of the Crystal Clinic Orthopaedic Center by HGA Architects, which has been selected among the five winners of the 2022 Shaw Contract Design Awards “Best of Globe” for its innovative approach to healthcare.