Usually, refurbishments are to completely change a space or, in a more surgical way, to bring about improvements in mobility and privacy issues. No matter the number of walls to be demolished, coatings to be replaced and joinery to be designed, the result is always looking for a more functional and beautiful space. In the case of apartments that usually have standard floor plans, intervening in them is also a way of bringing a unique and more personal character to each home.
Understanding the diversity and plurality of people who inhabit and pass through cities on a daily basis, gender-responsive urban planning aims to incorporate all those identities, perspectives and activities that have been invisible for years. Understanding the complexities that surround cities and getting involved in the urban experiences of their inhabitants, public spaces turn out to be the scenario for the development of urban life and, as such, should bring together a series of guidelines and considerations in accordance with this new paradigm that act as planning tools, composing this network of spaces and contemplating all the users of the city.
Can you imagine a world in which the built environment around us is 3D printed from living materials? That buildings will germinate, bloom, wither, produce new kinds of material, and eventually return back to the soil? To Grow a Building is a performative lab space that 3D prints - in real time - a live structure. The project presents a new approach to integrating flora into the design process, by developing a novel material for 3D printing, through which seeding is an inseparable part of the fabrication process. To Grow a Building is a gate into a future world in which there are people who build buildings, and there are people who grow them.
The architectural identity and urban fabric of the old city of Frankfurt has grown organically over centuries. Shops, bars, and craftsmen's workshops have always attracted a lot of visitors to the area between the Cathedral, or "Dom" in German, and the Römer, the main square in the center of Frankfurt. Historically, the area included buildings of many different styles, such as Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque and Classical architecture, which most locals only knew about from black and white photographs, the town’s famous miniature model in the historic museum, or stories passed down through generations.
However, the quarter’s picturesque buildings and alleyways, were almost entirely destroyed during the Second World War, but the collaborative work of the community and local authorities have made it seem as though time before the war stood still. The entire quarter was reconstructed exactly as its original plans, bringing Frankfurt’s medieval history back to life and creating what is now known as the Neue Alstadt, a project considered by some to be controversial.
In the midst of programmatic diversity and experimentation, the Rio de Janeiro office gru.a is an encouragement to those who wish to venture into the expanded field of architecture. Formed by partners Caio Calafate and Pedro Varella in 2013, gru.a demonstrates the potential of the profession when it dialogues with other disciplines.
Entries to the annual Architecture Drawing Prize are judged in three categories, hand-drawn, digital and hybrid. Last year, Dafni Filippa, a post-graduate student studying for a Master’s degree in Landscape Architecture (MLA) at the Bartlett School of Architecture, won in the hybrid category and was also judged overall winner of the Prize with her Flood-responsive landscape performance, a virtuoso drawing created through a variety of rendering and modelling techniques produced by hand, in plaster and through and across multiple software platforms.
At ArchDaily, our work is grounded in stories. Between practice and projects, editorials and news, we write to share how architecture and design is changing both how we live and why. We also hold a responsibility in our choice of which stories get told and those that don't. The following is a reflection about design in Los Angeles, a beautiful, immense, sprawling, and diverse city that I've called home for many years.
Being a region characterized by its wide variety of landscapes, biodiversity and thermal floors, the design of interior patios in Colombian homes accompanies the living, resting, access, and circulation spaces, being, on many occasions, protagonists and a source of contact with the surrounding nature.
Every new generation enters the workplace with its own communication style. From viral TikToks to provocative statements like “We rarely use email,” Gen Z’s entrée into the workforce will certainly make its own waves. But what do we need to consider as we recruit, try to retain, and sell to this next generation of designers?
The metaverse promises to revolutionize our way of life. By integrating immersive technologies like virtual and augmented reality (VR and AR), it hopes to add another layer to the way we experience everyday life. It is suggested that the metaverse will create virtual spaces where people can meet and share experiences regardless of geographical constraints. The possibilities seem endless: exchanging knowledge, encouraging professional collaboration, developing and democratizing art, education, culture, and even enabling political engagement. Social interactions are at the core of the idea of a metaverse. This raises the question: how can the new, virtual spaces acquire the properties of public spaces?
As part of the effort to make the construction sector more sustainable in the face of the climate crisis, the bioeconomy has stood out. While the road to net-zero architecture is still very complex, the emerging shift in culture and general thinking is evident, and innovation seems to be driving this transformation.
As researcher, designer and MIT professor Caitlin Mueller once said, “The greatest value you can give to a material is to give it a load-bearing role in a structure.” Load-bearing components – foundations, beams, columns, walls, etc. – are designed to resist permanent or variable forces and movements. Similar to the bones of a human body, these support, protect and hold everything together. To fulfill that indispensable function, they must be made from materials with outstanding mechanical properties, which explains the prominence of cement and steel in structures. However, their high performance comes at a high cost: together, they account for 15% of global CO2 emissions. This makes us wonder, is it possible for structural materials to be truly sustainable? We know solutions like greener versions of concrete already exist, but there are many other alternatives to explore. And sometimes, the answer is closer than we expect; in the earth beneath us and the nature that surrounds us.
In architecture, the concept of daylighting refers to when buildings allow natural light inside to provide a number of benefits, from enhanced visual comfort and productivity, to improved health and higher energy savings. However, to reach optimum levels of sunlight, reaching a balance is key; while too much can produce an uncomfortable glare and tremendous amounts of heat, too little can lead to health deficiencies and a greater dependency on artificial lighting. In that sense, the qualities of polycarbonate panels are unmatched, becoming an attractive choice for facades and roofs by achieving a soft, diffused light with varying levels of transparency, brightness and opacity.
Earlier this year the unprovoked barbaric Russian invasion of neighboring independent Ukraine forced millions of people to flee their cities and the country in search of safety. I talked to one of Ukraine’s top architects, Oleg Drozdov, who was forced to relocate his practice and architecture school he co-founded in Kharkiv, to Lviv, 1,000 kilometers to the west, next to the Polish border. His staff and professors — many of them assume both roles — resumed their work just weeks after the war broke out.
March 20, 2020: I am in New York, “the epicenter of Covid-19,” the news on TV keeps blaring, as if proud of the achievement. New York has always been excessive, so why not now? More cases, more hospitalizations, more ICU admissions, more intubations, more deaths. The news is terrifying and at the same time completely at odds with the day-to-day experience of the city, which has become so strangely quiet, so peaceful. No traffic, no construction noise, no annoying car alarms, no random screams in the middle of the night. Even the ambulances are mostly silent without cars to fight against.
Indians have traditionally lived close to the earth, their cultures shaped by symbiotic relationships with ecosystems. Indian arts and crafts strongly rely on nature for its form, philosophy, and existence. Native landscapes aroused the artistic sensibilities of resident communities, evolving craft practices that met utilitarian and ritualistic needs. The intersectionality of ecology and culture is evident through ancestral forms of craft.
Real-time visualization is an excellent tool for creating beautiful renderings and streamlining workflows within architectural and design projects. It plugs into your CAD, enabling you to visualize as you design.
On top of the high-quality renderings it produces, its speed and ease of use are some of the reasons why many firms have added it to their workflows. See how real-time visualization has benefitted these three firms.
In the book Design of Childhood, architect and researcher Alexandra Lange states that children were considered nonpersons throughout almost the entire history of ancient and modern architecture, being excluded from the process of creating urban and interior spaces. This process has caused and is still causing several problems when children reach adulthood, since these children grew up being constantly watched by fear of movement and the eyes of adults.
Discussions of architectural form demonstrate how disability is negatively imprinted into the field of architecture. In architectural theory and the history of architecture, “form” typically refers to the physical essence and shape of a work of architecture. In the modern idea of form, it is a quality that arises from the activity of design and in ways that can be transmitted into the perceptions of a beholder of architecture. Form provides a link between an architect’s physical creations and the aesthetic reception of these works. It occupies a central place within a general understanding of architecture: the idea of the architect as “form-giver,” among many other turns of phrase, conveys the sense of some fundamental activity and aesthetic role of form within architecture, what architects create, and how people perceive works of architecture.
On August 19th, the world photography day is celebrated, a fundamental tool for the imagery record of our society. If, on the one hand, photography is the protagonist in dialogues that involve architecture and the city, portraying historical moments and enhancing buildings, on the other hand, it guides us through the context and backstage of the moment, eternalizing the process.
What happens when streets, squares and buildings start to disappear in a city?
This is the case of Cerro de Pasco, capital of the district of Chaupimarca and at the same time of the province of Pasco, located at 4380 m.a.s.l. in the highlands of the Peruvian Andes. It is in this place that the constant expansion of the "open-pit" mining method has devoured the urban fabric, resulting in permanent damage to the territory as its public spaces, heritage buildings and, consequently, its history, disappear.
Hard times bring people together. In recent years we have seen how collective work can be a driving force to help those affected by natural or man-made disasters. After a disaster or displacement, a safe physical environment is often essential. Therefore, the need for coordination becomes a key factor in assisting people in times of need.
Architects, as "Shelter Specialists", play an important role in creating safe and adequate environments, whether it is individual housing, public buildings, schools, or emergency tent camps. But as architect Diébédo Francis Kéré says, "When you have nothing and you want to convince your community to believe in an idea, it may happen that everybody starts working with you, but you need to keep fighting to convince them."
Plague clouds
On August 27th, 1883, the volcano of Krakatoa in the Indonesian islands erupted. Ashes and rocks flew miles high. Barometers wobbled three and a half times as they recorded the atmospheric pressure wave circumnavigating the globe. The noise was heard across the Indian Ocean and Australia. And for years, small ash particles floated in the atmosphere, diffusing the sun’s light and scattering colors around the world.
This article was originally published on Common Edge.
In October 2011, inspired by the Arab Spring revolutions, thousands of people in Australia and in many other cities in the world started to occupy public spaces. In Sydney, where I live, this occupation took place in Martin Place, appropriately enough right outside the Reserve Bank of Australia. This widely publicized protest was an attempt to promote a pro-democracy, civil liberty, social justice message, and to protest against corporate greed and economic inequality.
All of which begged a central question: Was it an occupation of our public space, or was it a reclamation of our public space from governmental and corporate dominance?
