Mute, a pioneer in adaptable office architecture, has introduced Modular Pods—the largest and first truly adaptable pod collection on the market. Offering an unparalleled variety in sizes, unlimited customization options, and leading accessibility solutions, Mute'Modular Pods set new benchmarks for the entire product category.
From greenhouse gas emissions and air pollution to deforestation, one of the leading contributors to global warming today is emissions from the transportation sector. Exploring its origins and evolution, as well as the major challenges it faces, the development of electric mobility in urban environments represents a global transition that requires a coordinated mix of policies and actions to achieve cleaner and more sustainable transportation systems. Designing safe and comfortable infrastructure for walking and cycling, promoting public transit and shared mobility, and designing more efficient streets that include electric vehicles, among other actions, are part of a growing worldwide effort to reduce carbon emissions.
Founded in 1870, The Metropolitan Museum of Art — affectionately known as The Met — is one of the world's most important and visited museums, housing over two million works that span five millennia of human history. Located in the heart of New York City, alongside Central Park, the museum is celebrated for its vast and diverse collections, ranging from ancient Egyptian art to European masters and contemporary works. Paintings, sculptures, documents, historical artifacts, and multimedia pieces make up an ensemble that demands meticulously planned exhibition solutions to ensure both preservation and the effective communication of their historical and artistic value.
In 2021, The Met launched one of its most ambitious projects: the renovation of The Michael C. Rockefeller Wing, dedicated to the Arts of Africa, the Ancient Americas, and Oceania. With a $70 million investment, the initiative encompasses curatorial reorganization, oriented by a more regional and historical approach, as well as architectural interventions. The modernization of the galleries includes enhancements to natural lighting, accessibility improvements, and the incorporation of contemporary museographic systems, designed to optimize conservation and the interpretive experience for visitors.
In the United States, nearly 1 in 10 children are affected with asthma, a condition with rates significantly higher in urban areas of the country. However, in a community just outside Atlanta with a population of more than 300 children, not a single case of the condition has been reported. This is by design. Most cities and neighborhoods across the country are not designed with human biology in mind, an oversight that contributes to the growing prevalence of cardiovascular disease and mental health challenges. Are we treating chronic conditions as purely medical, when they may actually be symptoms of poor design?
Building a monumental dome without the use of external iron chains or traditional centering was the enormous challenge faced by Filippo Brunelleschi at the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence. To demonstrate the feasibility of his proposal and to guide the construction, he relied on a large-scale wooden model that played a fundamental role in studying proportions, the interlocking of ribs, and the innovative arrangement of bricks using the "a spina pesce" (herringbone) system. As an essential technical tool, this model — which is still on display at the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo in Florence — guided the master builders throughout the construction, establishing itself as a seminal example of the value of models in architectural planning, constructive communication, and experimentation.
When examining photos of Japanese houses, one frequently notices a recurring space with tatami mats, often slightly elevated and integrated into the public areas of the home. This is the washitsu, or Japanese-style room: a traditional, multipurpose space still commonly found in modern residential architecture. Used for activities ranging from reading and sleeping to hosting a family altar, its versatility is central to its continued relevance. This article explores the Washitsu's layout and meaning, beginning with its historical origins to better understand its role and interpretation in contemporary Japanese homes.
The Kingdom of Bahrain is being widely acknowledged recently through their worldwide architectural contributions at the Expo 2025 in Osaka, with their Anatomy of a Dhow pavilion by Lina Ghotmeh; or at the Venice Biennale, where the Heatwave exhibition was awarded the Golden Lion for Best National Participation. However, for the past few years Bahraini cities like Muharraq have been lending the stage for regional and international architects to discover their typical Persian Gulf architecture and add their own touches to the local sites. It's through the works of Leopold Banchini, Anne Holtrop, or Valerio Olgiati that the old has been brought back to life, along with the efforts of the local authorities and cultural figures.
What can a pavilion’s architecture reveal about its country? At major World Expos, national pavilions are designed to answer this question, transforming into spaces laden with symbolism. Though temporary, these structures are rich in meaning, functioning as architectural expressions of political identity. Their forms and materials encapsulate national ambitions. Expo Osaka 2025, the latest chapter in this ongoing narrative, showcases how nations increasingly use built space to construct global images of themselves—sustainable, technological, culturally distinct, and geopolitically relevant.
What structures and infrastructures sustain the ties and relationships between the countryside and the city? How will architecture and emerging technologies maintain -or not- the coexistence of both worlds in the future? The reduction of ecological footprints, the impact of climate change, the decentralization of major cities, food security, and other contemporary issues challenge professionals in architecture and urbanism globally under the main shared goal of improving citizens’ quality of life and achieving physical, mental, and emotional well-being in both built and natural environments.
A series of recently announced projects across Europe, Asia, the Middle East, and North America reflects an ongoing shift in architectural thinking toward approaches that integrate buildings with their landscapes, programs with public life, and design with long-term environmental goals. In Nantes, France, a healthcare campus redefines medical education through climate-conscious planning, while in San Antonio, Texas, a new arboretum transforms a former golf course into a research-driven public landscape. Residential towers are rising beside Bangkok's Lumphini Park, a new coastal community is underway in the UAE, and an expansion to the Nelson-Atkins Museum in Kansas City reconsiders how cultural institutions connect with their surroundings. Together, these announcements point to a growing interest in projects that embed architecture within broader ecological and civic systems, proposing new models of spatial integration, accessibility, and resilience.
There is a particular kind of architecture that does not begin with a blank page. It begins in silence, in ruins, in walls shaped by time. It begins by listening. Rather than imposing itself, it draws near, slowly, choosing to touch rather than overwrite. This is an architecture that engages with the past through the lens of the present, not to erase it or mimic it, but to offer it continuity.
Contemporary architecture increasingly recognizes that to build with the past is not to be held back by it. Heritage is no longer seen as a constraint but as an active ground for design. Within this shift, pre-existence becomes more than a physical condition — it becomes a narrative thread, a structural and symbolic presence that invites care. Rather than asserting dominance, many architects today choose to respond with gestures that are deliberate, quiet, and precise. These interventions frame rather than replace, protect rather than obscure. In doing so, they allow history to remain visible, not as a backdrop, but as a living layer of the architectural experience.
The German Design Awards 2026 are now open for submissions worldwide. Under the theme Connecting Global Excellence, the awards extend an invitation not just to enter, but to engage—with ideas, with places, with people. This year's open call is accompanied by a new series of Design Masterclasses in Zurich and Copenhagen, created in collaboration with DAAily platforms, offering spaces to share, learn and connect. As the Frankfurt RheinMain region prepares to take the global stage as World Design Capital 2026, the German Design Awards 2026 reflect the full spectrum of design today—from visionary innovation to cultural continuity. They are both a mirror of our diverse design landscape and a catalyst for forward-thinking transformation across all disciplines.
When creating exhibition spaces, the design of the experience, the proposed route, and the transmission of certain perceptions and senses contribute to establishing different bonds and connections between the displayed objects and their visitors. Understanding a showroom as a space designed to creatively and experientially showcase products and services, what design strategies could enhance users’ interior experiences? How does interior design engage in dialogue with exhibition architecture?
The main role of architecture is to create structures that protect us from the environment and create spaces that are safe and comfortable for all types of needs and activities. By providing shelter, architecture also shapes the way people interact with their surroundings. Building technologies of the past rarely managed, however, to create a complete separation between us and the outside world.
While impermeability was a desired outcome, the porous building materials available always allowed some water, wind, or outside particles to leak into the interior spaces. In contrast, modern technologies now allow for almost completely impermeable building envelopes, allowing for complete separation between indoors and outdoors, thus relying on engineered systems to regulate temperature, airflow, or humidity. This article explores the differences between these two contrasting approaches, exploring how building facades are equipped to regulate indoor comfort and its environmental impact.
Space has become a luxury in many of the world's most densely populated cities—a growing reality that's hard to ignore. Megacities like Tokyo, Shanghai, Mumbai, Mexico City, and São Paulo already have populations exceeding 20 million, while other urban centers across Asia and Africa continue to expand rapidly. Among these, Delhi stands out: if current trends continue, it is projected to become the most populous city by 2028. As these cities expand, housing—especially new developments—follows a new logic: as square meters shrink, furniture adapts, and daily life learns to fit and thrive in high-density environments. This change isn't just about size; it reflects a new way of living. Where spaciousness once dominated, density now rules. Every corner gains spatial and commercial value, with the kitchen emerging as one of the biggest challenges in housing design today.
Buildner has announced the results of its third annual Home of Shadows international architecture ideas competition. The competition series is designed to focus on the vital interplay between light and shadow in creating functional and inviting living spaces. It highlights the importance of natural light in home design, essential for creating comfortable, inviting, and practical environments.
Light is viewed as a language through which architects communicate emotions in their designs, with shadows playing an equally significant role in influencing the ambiance of a space. The balance between light and shadow allows for the creation of spaces with depth and texture, setting different moods for various purposes. Often, this balance can be achieved through the strategic placement of windows and doors.
Little has been written about the work of Abdelmoneim Mustafa, one of the most respected architects in his homeland of Sudan and a pioneer in his profession in the mid-twentieth century. Esra Akcan, who made extensive research of his work with a team in Sudan during a small window of opportunity between 2019 and 2021, laments this lack of recognition thus, "How could someone as gifted as Moneim Mustafa… designer of some of the most exciting mid-century modernist buildings anywhere, be so neglected, so ignored out of Sudan, that to this day there is no internationally accessible publication in his name." Akcan's writings, coupled with the personal blog of Hashim Khalifa, who trained under Mustafa, shed light on his extensive legacy.
Inspired by experimental solar houses developed after the 1970s oil crisis, the Passive House certification emerged in the late 1980s as a response to growing concerns about energy efficiency and the environmental impact of the construction industry. Its goal is both simple and radical: to reduce heating and cooling demands to an absolute minimum through passive strategies, controlled mechanical ventilation, and an extremely efficient building envelope — eliminating the need for complex or expensive systems.
The choice of exterior cladding materials plays a strategic role in achieving this performance. Poorly designed surfaces, thermal bridges, or sealing failures can undermine the building's entire thermal logic, especially in demanding climates. This is where rainscreen systems stand out: by creating a ventilated air gap between the cladding and the structural wall, they promote continuous airflow, manage moisture, and enhance thermal stability. Materials that combine performance, durability, and visual appeal are rare — and natural slate from Spain's Cupa Pizarras is a standout solution.
"The limits of our design language are the limits of our design thinking". Patrik Schumacher's statement subtly hints at a shift occurring in the built environment, moving beyond technological integration to embrace intelligence in the spaces and cities we occupy. The future proposes a possibility of buildings serving functions beyond housing human activity to actively participate in shaping urban life.
A place of rebirth, the city of Muharraq in Bahrain has undergone a visionary cultural and urban transformation, emerging as a pioneering model for culturally-led regeneration in the Arab world, particularly in the Gulf region. Once the capital of the country's pearling industry, Muharraq has preserved, reinterpreted, and reintegrated its historical legacy into its evolving urban fabric.
Faced with the challenge of redefining its future—marked by an intact urban layout but deteriorating architectural structures—Muharraq envisioned a linear urban narrative, weaving together the memory of the industry through a sequence of key buildings. The city set out to connect the individual properties tied to its pearling past, such as homes of divers, boat captains, and pearl merchants.
Water is a catalyst for sensory experiences: it manifests through direct contact when touched, through its presence when heard or seen reflected, and through its transformations—whether by temperature, from cold to heat, or by state, from liquid to vapor. It is a key element in designing for the senses, capable of evoking physically and emotionally perceived atmospheres. As Juhani Pallasmaa suggests, architecture does not address the eye alone but involves the whole body and sensory memory. The bathroom, in particular, concentrates much of the physical and emotional experience associated with water, opening up possibilities for creating environments that intensify that sensory connection. Consequently, the question arises: what elements or concepts should shape this space so that the shower experience escapes the ordinary?
The Mid-Century Modernist movement was more than an aesthetic or material shift in the United States, as it was a response to a rapidly changing world. Emerging after World War II, this architectural revolution rejected ornate, traditional styles of the past in favor of clean lines, functional design, and incorporation of flashy materials like steel, glass, and concrete. Modernism was a break from tradition, focusing instead on simplicity, efficiency, and a vision for the future. It reflected the optimism of a nation rebuilding itself, where technology and innovation shaped everything from cityscapes to suburban homes.
In an effort to foster a sense of belonging among its inhabitants, to value ancestral cultures, and to preserve identity, the Latin American region embraces an architecture rich in nuances and regional characteristics. The use of local materials and construction techniques, or the dialogue between modular and vernacular approaches, among other aspects, reflect the intention to promote the involvement of native communities, students and their families, Iindigenous peoples, and local builders in the design and construction processes of a wide variety of rural schools throughout Latin America.
The 19th edition of the Venice Architecture Biennale officially opened to the public on May 10, becoming a significant international platform for exploring the current state of global architecture and sparking conversations about the challenges the discipline faces today—both shared and specific to each territory. This year’s theme, "Intelligens. Natural. Artificial. Collective," proposed by general curator and Italian architect Carlo Ratti, invites reflection on architecture’s interconnection with other fields—such as art, artificial intelligence, and technology—while also emphasizing the importance of territories, landscapes, and, above all, the people who collectively shape our built environment.
