In today’s dense, vertical cities, terraces—often overlooked as mere technical rooftops—are emerging as key spaces for reconnecting with nature, expanding residential functions, and offering moments of collective relief. Particularly in single-family homes located in compact urban areas, these elevated surfaces represent valuable opportunities to increase usable living space without occupying more land. By lifting daily life above street level, terraces open new ways of inhabiting the city, enabling a range of uses from leisure and contemplation to food production and social gathering. In contexts marked by limited green space and strained infrastructure, they hold the potential to generate what landscape architect Catherine Mosbach calls "additional layers of urbanity." Whether imagined as hanging gardens, gathering spots, edible landscapes, or wellness zones, terraces challenge the idea that the city ends at the top floor—inviting us to see the roof as a new kind of ground.
Buildner has announced the results of its competition, the Last Nuclear Bomb Memorial No.5. This competition is held each year to support the universal ban on nuclear weapons. In 2017, on the 75th anniversary of the 1945 bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, which claimed the lives of over 100,000 people, the United Nations adopted the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons.
In recognition of this treaty, Buildner invites conceptual designs for a memorial to be located on any known decommissioned nuclear weapon testing site. The conceptual memorial is intended to reflect the history and ongoing threat of nuclear weapons, aiming to promote public awareness of nuclear disarmament.
The challenge is intended to bring attention to the history and dangers of nuclear weapons. Participants are tasked with designing a space that commemorates nuclear warfare victims and conveys the need for a nuclear-free future. As a 'silent' competition, submissions are not allowed to include any text, titles, or annotations.
The next edition of this competition, the Last Nuclear Bomb Memorial No. 6, has been launched with an early bird registration deadline of June 12, 2025.
At the turn of the millennium, the world was gripped by the looming threat of the Y2K bug, a potential failure of computerized systems that could disrupt everything from banking to aviation. As midnight approached on December 31, 1999, people withdrew their savings, major corporations issued warnings, and governments scrambled to prevent public hysteria. But as the sun rose on January 1, 2000, the feared bug had no material impact, and the crisis faded as quickly as it had emerged. However, this era left its mark in unexpected places — particularly in architecture. Amid the anxiety surrounding digital technology, one of the most iconic concert halls of our time, Casa da Música in Porto, was born. Designed by OMA (Office for Metropolitan Architecture), its origins can be traced to a much smaller project: the Y2K House. What began as an exploration of private domesticity during the digital scare evolved into a grand public structure — an architectural transition from home to a performance hall.
As artificial intelligence (AI) becomes increasingly embedded in society, it's essential to pause and reflect on the foundations that sustain it—and the dimensions to which it extends. At the heart of AI's learning are datasets, whose structure and content shape how these systems interpret and respond to the world. This reliance creates a deep interdependence—one that not only informs AI's capabilities but also defines its potential blind spots. In light of this, we must ask: What forms of understanding might this process exclude, especially those not easily captured in digital form?
Without dedicated spaces for private focus — a crucial element of effective collaboration — even the brightest idea dims. The office must indeed balance connectivity with personal space most brilliantly, letting employees move between tasks without friction. Booths like hushFree.XS, hushFree.S.Hybrid, and hushFree.S are part of this, together forming a trio of single-person booths that meet the majority of the office's need for individual workspaces.
HushFree.XS, hushFree.S.Hybrid, and hushFree.S work as a complete system, ensuring employees have the right conditions for productive solo work throughout the day, proving to be invaluable tools for architects in designing spaces that completely address varied employees needs. Booths like these make premium refuges for focused calls, impressively immersive video conference spaces, and deep-focus bubbles.
Architecture holds power beyond the creation of buildings - it is a practice that shapes how people live, interact, and thrive within their communities. Architecture can also be a tool for social innovation. Through an understanding of human-centered processes, participatory design, and social sciences, practitioners can address societal challenges such as loneliness, inequality, and public health to equip spaces as vehicles for social equity and engagement. Architecture's role in shaping the future of communities is a direct response to human needs and activated social change.
An ancestral house in the rural village of Willendorf in der Wachau stands watch over a grove of fruit trees. The trees have stood for generations and, to this day, provide the fruit which is the basis of the family business. Bound on one side by the river Danube and the other by valley's edge, both house and grove have witnessed the passage of countless seasons together. With each progression between darkness and light, from winter to summer, comes the inevitability of change.
In Venice, surrounded by an overwhelming abundance of architectural beauty—the grandeur of landmarks like the Basilica di San Marco, St. Mark's Square, and the Rialto Bridge, to name just a few—it is easy to become swept up in the iconic imagery and spatial majesty of the city. One could lose sight of the quieter, yet equally masterful, moments found in the execution of details across its built fabric. Beyond the grandeur, the city offers a richness in its winding alleyways, narrow canals, and vibrant street life—each contributing to the cultural tapestry that makes Venice so unique. Amidst these celebrated elements, however, lie subtle but remarkable architectural details that often go unnoticed. These deserve closer observation and reflection, as they offer their own kind of mastery—one grounded in material precision, craft, and the lived rhythms of the city.
Just steps away from the iconic Piazza San Marco, a quiet architectural dialogue unfolds between two celebrated figures. Within a one-minute walk, two projects—each meticulously crafted—sit in close proximity: the Olivetti Showroom by Carlo Scarpa, a long-revered pilgrimage site for architects and designers, and the recently reopened Procuratie Vecchie, restored by David Chipperfield Architects. A closer look at the architectural details embedded within each work reveals a compelling exchange across time—one that unfolds through material language, spatial precision, and an unwavering commitment to craft.
MVRDV and Delft University of Technology Release _Le Grand Puzzle_, an Urban Study of Marseille in the South of France. Image Courtesy of HÇläne Bossy, Manifesta
In architecture, most practices revolve around delivering projects to clients. Offices are shaped by deadlines, budgets, and clear briefs. While this structure produces buildings, it rarely leaves space for architects to question broader issues — about how we live, how cities are changing, or what the future demands of design. But alongside this production-focused system, a quieter movement has emerged: studios, collectives, and foundations that prioritize research, experimentation, and reflection. These are the architecture think tanks — spaces designed not to build immediately, but to think first.
The idea of a think tank is not new. Traditionally found in politics, economics, or science, think tanks bring together experts to study complex problems and propose solutions. In architecture, their rise reveals a tension at the heart of the discipline. If architecture is to remain socially and environmentally relevant, can it continue to rely only on client-driven practice? Or must it carve out space for slower, deeper inquiry?
Aerial view of Beta Building in Honduras. Image Courtesy of Taller ACÁ
Understanding the temperature gradient in a building is essential in cold or temperate climates, where airtight enclosures and continuous insulation are used to prevent heat loss. However, this approach is not suitable for tropical areas like Central America, where the climate is marked by a consistent alternation between wet and dry seasons rather than four distinct ones. Factors such as proximity to the sea, elevation, and local topography influence microclimates across short distances, but high humidity remains a common challenge. Sealed, airtight walls with no ventilation can quickly become breeding grounds for mold, making the thermal strategies of temperate climates problematic. In response, local designers have developed alternative approaches that embrace, rather than resist, the outdoor environment, allowing airflow and evaporation to manage interior comfort.
The intersection between architecture and neuroscience—known as neuroarchitecture—is emerging as an innovative field, highlighting the significant influence of design, whether in urban spaces or buildings, on human perception, including the sense of safety. This area of study gains relevance in a context where urban architecture is not merely a matter of aesthetics or function, but also a crucial element in creating environments that promote well-being and safety.
During the Time Space Existence exhibition, organized by the European Cultural Centre in Venice, Pritzker Prize-winning architect Alejandro Aravena and his firm ELEMENTAL unveiled a full-scale prototype for a new approach in incremental housing solutions. Titled the USB Core, standing for Basic Services Unit housing prototype, this proposal aims to demonstrate how efficient construction can provide all the essential housing components in a minimal space. The prototype is also the result of a collaboration between the architecture office and concrete manufacturer and researcher Holcim, and is built out of a newly developed type of net-zero concrete mix. It also incorporates fully recycled aggregates, in alignment with circular economy principles. The collaboration aims to demonstrate a more environmentally conscious yet cost-effective way of providing essential services to at-risk communities without harming the planet.
While on site in Venice, ArchDaily's managing editor Maria-Cristina Florian had the chance to sit down with Alejandro Aravena and discuss the implications of this collaboration, the urgent need for housing, and the role of the architect as the coordinator of a process involving many actors.
In The Poetics of Space, French philosopher Gaston Bachelard proposes reading architecture as a lived experience, in which each environment carries emotional and symbolic meaning. Reflecting on the house, he places particular importance on thresholds (windows, doors, stairs, attics, basements) as zones of transition and rupture between the intimate and the open, the known and the unknown. For him, the window is not merely a functional opening, but a point of dreaming and contemplation: it is through the window that the inhabitant projects themselves into the world. This perspective inspires a sensitive approach to architectural work, in which boundaries are not limited to separation, but articulate imagination, memory, and desire.
The proposal by Argentinian architects Marco Zampieron and Juan Manuel Pachué for the Argentinian Pavilion at the 19th Venice Architecture Biennale 2025 is clear from the outset: upon entering Siestario, visitors are immersed in a space of dim lighting and evocative sound, and immediately encounter—at the center of the room, stretched across its width, and acting as the undeniable protagonist—a large, inflated pink bag that instinctively invites repose. This is a silobag, an object commonly used in the Argentinian countryside to store grain and a potent symbol of the country’s export-driven economy. In this setting, the silobag becomes more than a spatial intervention; it also introduces a temporal dimension: an invitation to pause and reflect amid the relentless rhythm of the Biennale.
How do pavilions emerge in architecture? What role do they play in urban spaces? Beyond the multiple interpretations that exist around the world, the pavilion, as an architectural principle and typology, tends toward extroversion, often associated with a centrifugal nature and visual openness toward the horizon, which is linked to its origins as a tent offering shelter from the elements. Pavilions are usually identified as isolated and independent structures that can promote lateral openings in the urban space, panoramic or introspective views, technological reflections, and material experiments that are recognizable from the outside or once inside.
Artificial intelligence (AI) is no longer a futuristic idea in architecture — it is a concrete reality that is reshaping how we design. In seconds, computational systems can process and evaluate a wide range of variables — formal, programmatic, contextual, and regulatory — guiding architects toward highly optimized solutions. But as we embrace this algorithmic revolution, a critical question arises: can architectural intelligence be reduced to data-driven logic? In response, alternative approaches are gaining momentum — ones that value ways of building grounded in sensory experience, adaptation to place, and the intergenerational transmission of knowledge. In the exchange between artificial and ancestral forms of intelligence, a deeper understanding begins to take shape. Intelligence does not reside in the tools themselves, but in the intention and sensitivity with which we use them to navigate complex realities.
International perspectives are represented through spotlights on countries such as Brazil (top) or Italy (bottom). Photos: Courtesy of Bell'Arte (top) & Gaspare Asaro SRL (bottom)
ICFF returns to New York's Javits Center this May 18–20 with a refreshed sense of purpose and a global perspective. With its 2025 theme, 'Designing in Harmony', the fair sets out to explore how design can bridge divides — between materials and methods, cultures and climates, past and future.
With each of the more than 23,000 breaths we take per day, air travels through the respiratory system into the lungs, where vital gas exchange occurs: oxygen is absorbed, and carbon dioxide is expelled. This involuntary and essential act also triggers another, less visible but deeply impactful process—our perception of smell. As air passes through the nasal cavity, odor molecules come into contact with olfactory receptors located in the olfactory epithelium. These receptors send signals directly to the olfactory bulb, which is part of the limbic system—the area of the brain linked to memory and emotion. Far from being a secondary sense, smell acts as a direct bridge between the environment and our deepest emotional responses. Scents carry a unique power to evoke vivid memories, elicit comfort or immediate aversion, and influence our emotional state almost instantaneously.
Architecture is quintessentially a place-based practice. The amount of local knowledge required to design a building has meant that architects, even many of those with widely spread works, have had concentrations of built projects in individual cities. Giovanni "Gio" Ponti, born and raised in the Italian city of Milan, is one such architect. His projects outside Milan include the Denver Art Museum in the USA and the Villa Planchart in Caracas, Venezuela, as well as university buildings in Padua and Rome, and Taranto Cathedral. However, his works in his native city, such as the Pirelli Tower, best track the development of his architecture and his contribution to product design and publishing.
On April 23-24, 2025, at the ACCIONA Campus, the second edition of the NEXT IN Summit, hosted by ACCIONA Living & Culture, brought together global leaders in museology, architecture and art. Inaugurated in the presence of Madrid's mayor, José Luis Martínez Almeida, the event highlighted best practices in cultural space design, management, and innovation. Esteemed figures such as architect David Chipperfield, Glenn D. Lowry, director of MoMA, digital artist Rafael Lozano-Hemmer, and Mariët Westermann, director and CEO of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, led discussions on the future of cultural institutions.
There is a renewed interest in how food is produced and how its creation affects the well-being of both the land and the communities it supports. A similar shift is occurring in architecture, where material culture is emerging as the backbone of design innovation. LEVER Architecture exemplifies this movement with its pioneering "forest-to-frame" model, an approach that reimagines architecture not as an extractive process, but as a regenerative force with positive impacts that extend well beyond the boundaries of any individual building site.
When we speak of intelligence at the 2025 Venice Biennale, the main exhibition broadly categorizes it into three domains: natural, artificial, and collective. While much attention has been drawn to robotic performances, future-forward material experiments—such as Boonserm Premthada's elephant dung bricks, or Canada's display of mesmerizing picoplankton, one often overlooked yet critical form of collective intelligence lies in the act of archiving.
Several national pavilions showcase this collective intelligence through beautifully curated exhibitions—the Spanish Pavilion's witty play on scale, for instance, features meticulously crafted models that invite close reading and delight. These curated collections offer a snapshot of the present, and in some cases, gestures toward the future. But without critically engaging with the past, without documenting and making sense of our shared spatial and architectural knowledge, the potential of collective intelligence remains incomplete. Archiving is not simply an act of preservation; it is a generative tool for projecting new futures.
Impresión de paredes exteriores. Image Cortesía de XWG Archi Studio at Tsinghua University
According to the analysis firm Gartner, 3D printer sales surged by 75% around 2014, nevertheless, the technology continues to experience significant growth. While there are multiple debates in the field of architecture about whether 3D printing can be considered craftsmanship or if it is feasible to mix local materials with 3D printing, its implementation from academia aims to create new experiences, research, and knowledge that contribute to its development and practical application. Now, how might the integration of 3D printing in academia provoke future changes in the construction industry? And how could education in architecture and design encourage collaboration with other disciplines to create new applications across different fields?
