
This guide covers a workflow that moves from project parameters to generated floor plans, 3D perspective views, exterior design exploration, and site context visualization, using AI tools in place of preliminary CAD and rendering work.

This guide covers a workflow that moves from project parameters to generated floor plans, 3D perspective views, exterior design exploration, and site context visualization, using AI tools in place of preliminary CAD and rendering work.

On this occasion, architect Jaime Nadal, representing the ARKRIT Collective, brings us an article that delves into the controversial demolition of the famed Casa Guzmán by architect Alejandro de la Sota—a highly praised, widely published, and iconic building of the architectural renaissance in Spain.

Throughout 2018, we selected thousands of projects for publication on our site, occasionally highlighting a few for their innovative techniques and materials, their integration with their context, or their community engagement. Working daily with editors in Brazil, the United States, Mexico, Chile, China, and Northern Ireland, and thanks to the extensive network we have forged with institutions worldwide, we have the tools to gain a much broader perspective on current architectural production—not only in Mexico, but globally.

Music is a vital connection to culture. While it serves as a source of entertainment, it is also a medium for communicating ideas and expressing artistic creativity. Through romantic, social, political, or historical themes, every song evokes memories and emotions.
Although there is an endless array of genres today compared to decades past, music still allows us to travel the world without leaving home through its lyrics and music videos. With this in mind, we have compiled a list of 10 songs that not only feature the names of cities in their titles, but also, through their lyrics and visual storytelling, capture the essence of each place—whether capitals or not—bringing to life the magic of their architecture and streets.

Foundations are certainly not the structural elements on which architects spend the most time during the design process. Since they are typically underground and serve a strictly technical purpose, this decision is usually left to structural engineers. However, foundations play a crucial role in construction, as they are the structural elements that transfer building loads to the ground.

The Catalan archipelago is shaped, across almost its entire length, by a small mountain range running along it, rising from the coastline tangent to the sea to form cliffs, and extending barely a dozen kilometers at its greatest extent.
The architecture native to this coastal strip of land is repeatedly categorized as Catalan architecture, thereby overlooking and overshadowing the architecture of the inland—dark, somber, heavy, and intensely material. An architecture—that of the interior—of slow digestion, backlights, and still air, carrying a different scent.
To the northeast, we find a region where beech trees stand still, growing at a lower altitude than anywhere else in the country. Where the light is softer, more diffused; where shadows are both fainter and deeper. Where it rains differently. Where people speak differently. Where the masias are different. There they live. There they work. We are speaking of Olot. We are speaking of RCR.

The modernization of Bogotá between 1940 and 1970, captured through urban and architectural photo essays, has been documented in various books, magazines, and photobooks of the era, as well as in the city's public and private archives. These images reveal an intentional, even critical, approach to how modern architecture reconfigured city centers, bridging new buildings and urban spaces with the existing cityscape.
When analyzing the impact of photojournalism, it is essential to examine the work of Sady González, Manuel H. and Daniel Rodríguez. In their work, architecture and the city serve as the backdrop for scenes of urban life, figures, historical events, and daily activities; their photographs offer an indispensable visual record for understanding the city's transformation and its historical context.
In this edition of Bogotá through the Eyes of 10 Photographers, we explore the legacy of Manuel H.:

When discussing cities like Amsterdam, we inevitably recall its network of canals and streets interwoven with water. Yet water is also one of the most pressing challenges the city faces. With 60% of its territory below sea level, climate change—and the rising sea and river levels that come with it—is a matter of survival not only for Amsterdam, but for the entire country.

Designed by Fabián Leiva, the Floating Cemetery project was selected as one of the 10 winners in the Thesis Project category of the 2018 Arquitectura Caliente Competition (CAC 2018), a Chilean contest organized by Grupo Arquitectura Caliente and funded by the Ministry of Cultures, Arts, and Heritage.
In 2004, the Ralco reservoir in the Biobío Region was unexpectedly and irreversibly flooded, burying the local Pehuenche community's cemetery beneath its waters. Following years of trying to recover the bodies, studies demonstrated that salvage was unfeasible, leaving the inhabitants helpless in the face of the millions of cubic meters of water separating them from the cemetery. This situation sparked the idea to create a space in memory of a sacred, violated, and unrecoverable site—one that would bring the community closer to their deceased and eternally condemn the event.

The term ‘right to the city’ was on the lips of participants in the June 2013 protests, which were sparked by public transit fare hikes across several Brazilian states. It was also emblazoned on banners hanging from occupied vacant towers and abandoned buildings by the Ocupe Estelita movement, which has fought since 2008 to preserve the José Estelita Pier in Recife. Abroad, the phrase was splashed across Turkish signs when trees were felled in Istanbul’s Gezi Park to make way for a shopping mall.
But what, after all, does the right to the city actually mean—an expression vehemently invoked by social movements in recent years and one that, in Brazil, gained territoriality following the 2013 mobilizations?

Architect Francisco Javier Sáenz de Oiza is undoubtedly a pivotal figure in 20th-century Spanish architecture. Designer of iconic works like Torres Blancas and the current Castellana 81, Sáenz de Oiza was twice awarded the National Architecture Award (1946 and 1954), served as Director of the Madrid School of Architecture (1981–1983), and was a figure whose work and theoretical reflections shaped the course of the Modern Movement in Spain.
This year marks the centenary of his birth in the town of Cáseda (Navarra). To celebrate this milestone, the 15th Architecture Week will pay tribute to him with a major exhibition charting his entire career. Titled Centenario Sáenz de Oiza. 1918-2018 (Sáenz de Oiza Centenary. 1918-2018), the exhibition is organized by the COAM Architecture Foundation in partnership with the Directorate-General for Architecture of the Ministry of Development, and curated by his children, architects Vicente, Javier, and Marisa Sáenz Guerra.

The 1970s and 1980s witnessed a new urban image in the Ecuadorian capital. Rafael Vélez Calisto graduated in 1970, going on to become one of its most prominent and prolific architects. He expressed his architecture for a thriving country and capital that offered unique opportunities to professionals, driven by oil exploitation, the growth of the public and private sectors, and rapid urban expansion.
The capital shifted the profile of its main corridors, gradually shaping itself as a vertical city. Along Quito's Avenida Amazonas, the dominant presence of large, still-functional estates gradually disappeared, replaced by high-rise buildings (1)—an urban landscape that continued to spread along new arteries toward the north.
In these areas, several of his notable, contemporary, and cosmopolitan buildings stand out.

Originally published in Metropolis Magazine as El Equipo Mazzanti Heals a Gash in Bogotá’s Urban Fabric. With a Patchwork of Verdant Gardens, Anna Fixsen writes about Bicentennial Park in Bogotá. "Once a lightning rod for controversy, the innovative park now reconnects two areas at the heart of the city's historic center," she writes.
It is impossible to experience Bogotá without encountering the aura of Rogelio Salmona. Perhaps more than any other architect, Salmona shaped the urban identity of this Andean city through civic and poetic buildings. From a small balcony in his last office—located at the top of a tower he designed himself—a tableau of Salmona's legacy unfolds: directly ahead, the massive volumes of the Torres del Parque, a three-tower residential complex completed in 1970; and to the south, MAMBO, the Museum of Modern Art of Bogotá.

Located on São Paulo's most iconic avenue, after eight years of construction, the new Sesc Avenida Paulista branch finally opened its doors last Sunday, April 29. Guided by the triad “Art, Body, and Technology,” the institution—which expects approximately 18,000 visitors per week—has already seen these expectations begin to materialize.

By 2050, more than two-thirds of the world's population will live in cities – hubs that catalyze economic, cultural, and political progress, but also consume vast resources and account for 70% of global greenhouse gas emissions. To avoid catastrophic climate change while ensuring a prosperous and sustainable future, we must act quickly.


The concept of Complete Streets has gained prominence in recent years and has arrived in Brazil bringing the vision that streets must be planned, designed, operated, and maintained to allow safe, convenient, and comfortable travel for all users, regardless of age, ability, or mode of transportation.

Starting in May, Argentina reaffirms its presence at the Venice Biennale with an invitation to critically rethink the territory.
The "Imagined Lines" exhibition in the Argentine Pavilion, Horizontal Vertigo, curated by architects Javier Mendiondo, Pablo Anzilutti, Francisco Garrido, and Federico Cairoli, is a proposal to rediscover the territory as a collective construction—based on the potential of the relationship we perceive between territory and society—understanding architecture through its capacity to spark unexpected possibilities in each project.
Explore the selected projects and a statement from the curators below.

Describing the work of an architect is sometimes an arduous task. Categorizing a production based on the various criteria to which a body of work is tied often subjects it to the constraints of its historical context. Eduardo Longo, however, represents a clear exception, as his work actively rejected the prevailing principles of his time in pursuit of continuous experimentation. Entering the School of Architecture and Urbanism at Universidade Presbiteriana Mackenzie in São Paulo in 1961, he encountered a unique moment in Brazilian architecture: the formation of the so-called “Escola Paulista” (São Paulo School) alongside national political instability, marked by the onset of the military dictatorship and the construction of the new federal capital, Brasília.
As a student, he distanced himself from the canons of the Escola Paulista, seeking instead to experiment and foster new architectural discourse. Against this backdrop, during his fourth year of university, Longo designed the Mar Casado beach house. Intended for his aunt and uncle, the project was heavily criticized by both faculty and peers due to its “independent way of interpreting architecture” [1] and its structural configuration—which featured a non-orthogonal design with acute and obtuse angles beneath a multifaceted roof—openly defying Paulista Brutalism. Despite the backlash, the house was built and eventually gained recognition: art critic Pietro Maria Bardi praised its relevance in 1967, followed by a feature in *Domus* magazine in 1968 and its inclusion in Yves Bruand’s seminal 1981 book [2].

Media and technology have been revolutionizing content creation across diverse niches, and architecture is no exception. YouTube channels, television shows, and specialized playlists on architecture and urbanism are just a few examples. Over the last few years, however, podcasts have emerged as a powerful alternative. Unlike other media, podcasts are an audio-only format shared across a wide range of platforms—from specialized websites to blogs. Today, there are countless listening options available, both Brazilian (as listed below) and international, as previously published by ArchDaily.
Finding specialized podcasts can be a daunting task. To help, we have gathered a list of nine Brazilian podcast channels for you to listen to. Put on your headphones and check them out:

The Son Jarocho Documentation Center is a cultural venue in the city of Jáltipan de Morelos. Dating back to 1998, its former headquarters suffered severe structural damage during the 2017 earthquakes in Mexico, which affected several regions. As a result, municipal authorities determined that it was necessary to rebuild the facility.
Bringing this project to fruition required the involvement of various institutions and fundraising events. Among these was a campaign led by Mexican singer Natalia Lafourcade titled 'Un Canto por México' in Anaheim, California.

Colonia del Sacramento, on the shores of the Río de la Plata in southern Uruguay. From the ferry—if arriving from Buenos Aires—one can spot the famous lighthouse rising above a cluster of historic stone houses and cobblestone streets; a historic center declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which features not only a colonial and post-colonial architecture blending Spanish and Portuguese influences, but also compelling restoration and renovation projects that demonstrate a thoughtful embrace of Uruguayan memory.
Its architectural landmarks emerge naturally from an atmosphere frozen in time as you explore the city on foot along its waterfront and green spaces. Below, discover a list of 10 sites you should visit.

Over 469 years after the construction of the first Brazilian school—built in Salvador, Bahia, by Jesuits who taught reading, writing, arithmetic, and Catholic doctrine—school architecture remains indistinguishable within the urban fabric of most Brazilian cities. Characterless and rigid buildings, unable to connect with their surroundings due to enclosing walls, were once described by architect Mayumi Souza Lima as "structures [that] could just as easily be meant for children, bags of beans, or cars, since they are merely covered areas, with a ceiling and a floor."
On Thursday, October 25, we celebrated the first three years of ArchDaily Colombia in Bogotá. The Lamazone Gallery served as the setting for some of the local scene's most influential architects to connect with the ArchDaily Colombia team.
During his presentation, David Basulto, CEO of ArchDaily, highlighted the key milestones of ArchDaily Colombia's first three years, before moving on to an insightful analysis of Colombian architecture driven by the big data generated by our readers worldwide.
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What do dance and architecture have in common? It is difficult to explain how our experience of dance is stored in our bodily memory, yet our core recollection of a performance is often inseparable from the architectural space in which it unfolded. While the dance itself may be the focus, the venue remains integral to the experience. Ultimately, as we explore how cities and urban spaces are conceived and created, both dance and architecture serve as fundamental coordinates.
Unsurprisingly, many choreographers are exploring the intersection of these two disciplines. These works explore how our bodies navigate the built environment. This is far from a purely theoretical pursuit; instead, it engages specific communities and cultural groups through embodied movement. In the words of philosopher Marina Garcés: “The body no longer confines us to a single place, but instead integrates into and becomes part of the environment of every place. It is the zero point from which we can experience all space, enriching ourselves both materially and spiritually.”

Across different climates and building cultures, many contemporary projects are working with local ways of building in new ways. Earth walls, bamboo structures, shaded thresholds, and collective construction processes are being reconsidered not as references, but as tools for the conditions architecture is facing now and will continue to face.
In these projects, vernacular knowledge appears through practical decisions: how to cool a building without machines, how to build with what is nearby, how to make a structure easier to repair, and how to keep construction knowledge within the community that will use it. The conditions making this knowledge necessary are not coming. They are already here.