For architects and specifiers, selecting the right cladding system is both a technical and creative act, connecting material science with architectural intent. More than simple visual envelopes, façades today are high-performance systems that balance protection, insulation, and expression. As the first barrier between exterior and interior, the right cladding system can define how a building behaves and ages over time, affecting its thermal comfort, acoustic performance, fire safety, and overall durability.
Among the most commonly used façade materials are wood, metal sheets, composites, and aluminum systems. Within this range, single-skin metal panels and extruded aluminum panels are particularly notable for their blend of strength, precision, and architectural appeal. While both benefit from aluminum's inherent lightness and corrosion resistance, they differ significantly in structural logic, performance characteristics, and ideal applications. Companies such as Parallel Architectural Products—specialized in extruded aluminum cladding systems and architectural finishes—have played an important role in advancing these technologies, combining precision engineering, aesthetic flexibility, and local manufacturing.
The VELUX Group is launching the next step in its Action Leadership agenda as an experiment to explore how existing buildings can better serve both people and planet. The experiment builds on decades of demonstration projects and research into healthy buildings, including Living Places, which achieved an ultra-low carbon footprint and first-class indoor climate in an affordable and accessible way. The next step shifts focus towards existing buildings, from new build to renovation—named Re:Living.
Re:Living is a forward-thinking experiment to reimagine renovation to be more than a technical upgrade, and instead as a holistic opportunity to improve human well-being, support biodiversity, and reduce environmental impact. It's part of VELUX's long-term commitment to lead the building industry toward healthier, more sustainable practices, driven by a belief that simply reducing harm is no longer enough.
Agustina Iñiguez's journey into architecture was rooted in a deep appreciation for art, drawing, and craftsmanship, interests that naturally evolved into a formal architectural education beginning at age 18. Based in Buenos Aires, Agustina balances her professional architectural practice with an active role in academia, serving as a teaching assistant at the University of Buenos Aires and as an assistant professor at Torcuato Di Tella University. Since joining ArchDaily's Editorial Team in 2021, she has brought a thoughtful and interdisciplinary approach to curating content that bridges theory, practice, and social engagement.
When Hudson Yards opened in Manhattan in 2019, it promised a new urban neighborhood built from scratch. 16 towers with 4,000 residential units were erected in hopes of creating a strong community. Despite its lavish amenities and lofty public plazas, a peculiar emptiness persisted. The development felt anonymous, speaking to a fundamental truth about human social capacity.
Office in Sanno / Studio Velocity. Image Courtesy of Studio Velocity
Historically, architecture and the built environment have insisted on creating flat, hard surfaces. In earlier eras, walking without paved ground meant mud-caked shoes, uneven footing, tripping hazards, standing water after rain, and high maintenance. Hence, as we shaped cities, we prioritized a smooth, continuous, solid horizontal datum. The benefits are real: easier walking, simpler cleaning, and straightforward programming—furniture, equipment, and partitions all prefer a level base. This universal preference for building on flat ground remains the norm and, for many practical reasons, will likely continue to be.
What's less recognized is that making a truly flat surface is surprisingly difficult—and many well-executed "flat" floors aren't perfectly flat at all. They are often gently sloped, calibrated to precise gradients for drainage. While interior spaces do not always require this, many ground floors and wet areas do incorporate subtle inclines as a safeguard—whether for minor flooding or to manage water that overflows from the street or plumbing when one of the discharge systems is malfunctioning.
SCI-Arc alumni continue to make an indelible mark on the global design landscape, pioneering new approaches in architecture, technology, and interdisciplinary practices. With a reputation for fostering radical experimentation, the school has produced graduates whose work challenges conventions and redefines spatial possibilities. Recent alumni achievements underscore SCI-Arc's role in shaping the next generation of architects and creative thinkers.
The cultural center is an architectural typology that has fascinated architects and urban planners for decades. Whether due to its multifaceted program, its often emblematic scale, or its potential to transform the urban context in which it is inserted, it is a building type that carries strong symbolic and conceptual value. The wide circulation of international references—many designed by renowned architects—reinforces the aura of prestige associated with this program, frequently seen as a privileged ground for formal and conceptual experimentation. Not by chance, cultural center designs are among the most recurring themes in competitions, exhibitions, and academic studios.
Yet behind this contemporary fascination lies a complex history in which the notion of space dedicated to culture has been redefined over time, gradually taking the form we recognize today. This ongoing evolution invites us to reflect not only on the historical path of these spaces but also on the possibilities that will shape their future.
Domestic workers in Hong Kong and Singapore are the city's quiet infrastructure. In Hong Kong alone, there are a total of roughly 300,000 domestic workers, serving a portion of the approximate 2.7 million households. Their care labor sustains dual-income family routines: childcare, eldercare, cooking, cleaning, and the everyday logistics that make professional life possible. Yet the people who hold this balance together remain largely invisible in policy—and, crucially, in space.
On Sundays in Hong Kong's financial district, that invisibility becomes visible. Elevated walkways and podium forecourts—underused on weekends—turn into ad-hoc commons. With cardboard mats, small tents, towels, food and water, and a music speaker or two, domestic workers assemble places to sit, rest, and socialize. These improvised rooms in the city are often their only chance to exercise spatial agency—something they rarely have in the homes they maintain or in formal public infrastructure. In the absence of sanctioned, serviced places for rest, quieter bridges and passages become practical stand-ins.
Shenzhen is China's first Special Economic Zone（SEZ), serving as a window for China's Reform and Opening-up and an emerging immigrant city. It has evolved into an influential, modern, and international metropolis, creating the world-renowned "Shenzhen Speed" and earning the reputation of the "City of Design." Architectural design stands as the most intuitive expression of Shenzhen's spirit of integration and innovation. Over the past decade (2015-2025), the development of urban architecture in Shenzhen has closely integrated with its open and inclusive urban character, ecological advantages of being nestled between mountains and the sea, and the local spirit of blending traditional culture with innovative technology, showcasing Shenzhen's unique charm and robust vitality across multiple dimensions.
As cities continue to expand upward, the office tower remains one of the most visible symbols of architectural ambition and urban evolution. No longer defined solely by efficiency or corporate image, contemporary workplace architecture is being reimagined as a hybrid ecosystem, one that balances density with daylight, productivity with well-being, and technology with material and spatial integrity. The following unbuilt projects, submitted by the ArchDaily community, reveal how architects across continents are rethinking the typology of the tower, turning verticality into an opportunity for connection, adaptability, and sustainability.
From India's Shivalik Curv and Embassy Zenith, where form and movement are combined to redefine skyline identity, to Dungen in Sweden, a low-rise timber office that mirrors the calm of a forest grove, each project explores how workplaces can become more flexible, humane, and environmentally conscious. In Kyiv, APEX Business Center positions itself as a catalyst for urban vitality, while Jakarta's BNI Tower PIK 2 transforms the corporate tower into a crystalline symbol of growth. In Munich and Ankara, mixed-use concepts like Highrise Hufelandmark and Rhythm Ankara explore the office as part of a broader civic landscape, where work, leisure, and public life intersect.
When architects are still students, a moment often marks a turning point: their first encounter with software. It's not just about learning a tool but discovering a space where ideas transcend physical models, taking shape in a digital environment and beginning a relationship many will carry throughout their careers. What happens next? Software keeps evolving, and with it, the design experience. In recent years, this evolution has accelerated—machine learning, AI, prompts, and integrated workflows have moved from the periphery to the core of design practice, becoming part of the shared language between software and users. As these tools take hold, a key question emerges: How will this reshape our experience of designing architecture in the future?
Architecture has never been confined to the act of building. It constantly negotiates between material practice and intellectual reflection, yet throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, many architects felt that the built project alone was insufficient to address the full range of questions facing the discipline. Economic pressures, political contexts, and programmatic demands often narrowed the scope of practice.
Exhibitions and curatorial platforms, by contrast, created spaces of experimentation and critique, opening arenas where architecture could interrogate itself, where its past could be reinterpreted, its present challenged, and its future projected. In this tension, the figure of the architect-curator emerged, treating curating itself as a form of design — not of walls or facades, but of discourse, narratives, and frameworks of meaning.
Rapid urbanization, driven by population growth, is among the powerful megatrends transforming how cities are built. The world is adding a city the size of Madrid every single week — and will do so for decades to come. To meet this demand sustainably, a collaborative, systems-thinking approach to construction is needed.
Architects and designers around the world are pushing the boundaries of modern design, and Corian® Solid Surface is being bent, curved, and twisted to help them realize their boldest visions.
In hospitality spaces, for example, every surface has the potential to shape a guest's experience from the first invitational moment. Visionary designers are using their talents to convey the story of a place, the emotion of an aesthetic, and the essence of a brand. With the right material, we can profoundly influence how a space feels and functions for guests, using everything from sleek, welcoming reception counters to soothing spa-like shower escapes to soaring backlit sculptural panels as our canvas.
Thirty trillion tons. This is the estimated mass of all human-made matter on Earth, and the starting point for the 7th edition of the Lisbon Architecture Triennale. Curated by Ann-Sofi Rönnskog and John Palmesino, founders of Territorial Agency, the event asks a deceptively simple question: How heavy is a city? To answer it requires more than data. It demands a shift in perception: from the scale of the city to the planetary technosphere.
The technosphere, a term borrowed from Earth sciences, defines the vast system of infrastructures, technologies, and materials that sustain human life while reshaping the planet. Cities, in this view, are not only territories but dense nodes within this planetary metabolism. From October to December 2025, Lisbon becomes a lens to examine that magnitude, hosting three main exhibitions (Fluxes, Spectres, Lighter), a book of essays, a talks program, and more than twenty independent projects across the city.
Montreal, the second largest city in Canada is home to a wide array of heritage residential architecture, most of it dating to the 19th and early 20th-century. These are particularly abundant in some of its central neighborhoods like the Plateau Mont-Royal. Interestingly, their preservation is not accidental; it is the result of decades of advocacy by influential figures who recognized the value of the city's built environment, such as Phyllis Lambert and Blanche Lemco Van Ginkel. Efforts like theirs were instrumental in landmark preservation battles that helped to ensure current municipal support. Today, the city has implemented a set of comprehensive heritage protection laws designed to safeguard the integrity of the city's historic neighborhoods.
It's no exaggeration to say that Renzo Piano is one of the most unanimously respected architects in the world of architecture. With an oeuvre that blends respect for context, lightness and technology to create environmentally conscious and aesthetically pleasing structures, his approach combines advanced materials with traditional techniques. In projects of various scales, the Genoese architect maintains an essential thread: the implementation of passive architectural strategies, highlighting the importance of these methods for sustainability and energy efficiency. This is often made explicit in his sketches, as an initial concern, and clearly comes through in the finished works. Here are some examples of iconic projects developed by his office in recent decades.
Videos
First Prize Winner: Nest. Image Courtesy of Buildner
Buildner has announced the results of its Kinderspace Edition #2 Competition and launched the third annual Kinderspace Edition #3 with an upcoming registration deadline of 26 November 2025. Following its inaugural launch, this annual international competition once again invited architects, designers, and educators to explore new possibilities for early childhood learning environments.
Participants were tasked with envisioning spaces that inspire discovery, foster imagination, and support the emotional and cognitive development of young children. The aim was to move beyond standardized classroom design and propose innovative, flexible, and nature-connected spaces that reflect a deeper understanding of how children interact with their surroundings.
What should be taken into account when designing a fire station? The answer may seem obvious: functionality and efficiency. After all, every second counts in an emergency. But can a building designed for urgent operations also be aesthetically compelling, welcoming, and connected to its community? In recent decades, architects such as Zaha Hadid and Álvaro Siza have demonstrated that it can. By rethinking this building type, they have created spaces that go beyond emergency response—spaces that strengthen social ties, support the well-being of firefighters, and become urban landmarks.
In the pursuit of cleaner, safer public restrooms, hand dryers have long faced a unique challenge: how to effectively kill germs in fast-moving air. Traditional germicidal technologies—like UV lights and ionizers— struggle to deliver meaningful impact because they only have milliseconds to interact with airborne microbes. Cold plasma technology is emerging as a new contender that could redefine hygiene standards.
For over a century and a half, corporations have periodically taken on the role of city builders. Neighborhoods or even entire settlements that exist at the intersection of commerce and civic life, "company towns" are recurring urban types. The corporate city has long reshaped itself to match the spirit of each era, whether through the pastoral idealism of industrial England or the cinematic optimism of mid-century America. In its latest guise, the mixed-income campus district, architecture becomes a language of belonging, branding, and quiet persuasion.
In the Water Lilies rooms at the Musée de l'Orangerie in Paris, Claude Monet conceived a 360-degree gallery where visitors are enveloped by continuous landscapes, dissolving the boundaries between painting and environment. There, he sought not merely to represent nature through his distinctive style, but to construct an atmosphere, a perceptual state that the visitor literally inhabits. Architecture, traditionally associated with materiality and permanence, thus gains a new dimension of time, movement, and sensory experience.
Similarly, when contemporary architecture transforms its planes into active surfaces, it extends this pursuit of immersion and presence, now amplified by technology. At the entrance of SOPREMA's new Mammut Tower in Oberroßbach, Germany, architecture and digital narrative converge. Designed and executed by ASB GlassFloor, the newly completed lobby is an immersive environment combining glass, light, and sound into a complete spatial and sensorial experience, demonstrating how interactive technologies can become architectural materials in their own right.
