Indian architect and writer engaged in the intersection between spaces, ecologies and communities.
For monuments worthy of sustained admiration, conservation practices have been selectively mobilized to reinforce their prestige and secure their place at the center of heritage narratives. Structures whose vernacular ought to be passed down miss the discerning eye of the experts. Rowhouses, shopfronts, and neighborhood structures that form the fabric of our cities are often left to deteriorate beyond repair. Much more is lost, apart from aesthetics.
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.
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.
When Archigram published their fanatical vision for pneumatic cities and walking megastructures in the 1960s, they seemed to be designing buildings. Beneath the surface, the avant-gardeists were pushing culture through radical alternatives to lifestyles and forms of organizing in the city. Laboratories found themselves between the lines of copy on Domus or Casabella magazines, propositions doubling as blueprints for the civilizations to come. From Gropius's Bauhaus in 1919 to Arcosanti's desert experiments in the 1970s, architecture operated as a form of cultural prophecy. Built form was the argument. The drawing was the vision. Today, we live in a world that remarkably resembles what the starchitects of the 1900s imagined - modular construction, interconnected digital cities, and automated systems. Yet contemporary architecture rarely proposes culture with the same totalizing confidence.
India carries an ancient lineage of tradition that has long shaped the very conception and crafting of its cities. Vastu Shastra is one such tradition, more a science than a belief, intimately woven into the principles of architectural design. The practice remains widespread and highly regarded, with 93% of homes designed to align with Vastu principles. As India urbanizes at an unprecedented pace, projected to add 416 million city dwellers by 2050, Vastu Shastra continues to influence billions of real estate decisions amid the trials of modern city living. How might an 8,000-year-old spatial science evolve to guide the design of cities housing millions?
"The public square and civic infrastructure are the front lines against this kind of attack", proclaimed then-President of the American Institute of Architects, Thomas Vonier. The decades since 9/11 and mass violence have pressured cities, in the United States and globally, to reconsider what "safety" means. Is it about barriers, bollards, surveillance? Or is it about trust, visibility, evidence, resilience? Several projects confront these questions at various scales to demonstrate how architecture and forensic thinking can collectively protect communities and civic life.
Urban policymakers and developers increasingly brand projects as temporary, piloting pop-up parks, art installations, and interim structures across global cities. Initiatives are often framed as experimental interventions that activate vacant sites. In practice, however, they frequently serve as provisional strategies to manage underutilized land until more profitable forms of development materialize. The temporary label functions as urban camouflage, obscuring permanent agendas behind provisional rhetoric.
In traditional Chinese medicine, acupuncture works through strategically placed needles that trigger healing throughout the entire body. Urban planner Jaime Lerner's concept around targeted architectural interventions find success in China as well as neighboring countries in Asia, where localities are revitalized through simple interventions. Libraries, specifically, are bringing in social, cultural, and economic transformation to the continent.
Amid the traffic-clogged arteries of Los Angeles, where cars have long ruled the streets, the future of urban mobility is being questioned. The reorientation focuses not on simply removing cars or introducing new technology, but on envisioning the city as an integrated system in which people, places, and vehicles coexist in balance. Automobiles are no longer the unquestioned centerpiece of urban life; instead, they are treated as one component of a broader, multimodal transportation network. Design now seeks to prioritize human needs and experiences over vehicular dominance.
As the AI fervor continues to reshape how people see the world, 2025 looms as yet another year in the march toward technological advancement. While some worry about the dominance of technology in society, architects are shifting their attention to the foundations of a digital future: data centers. The design of data centers challenges designers to reconcile the demands of technological functionality with the principles of architectural excellence. As the dependence on cloud computing, IoT ecosystems, and big data analytics deepens, data center architecture demands more attention. As data consumption skyrockets, data center consumption rates match the demand. These structures were once relegated to nondescript industrial zones, but are now becoming integral components of urban and suburban environments. While some community members are upset about the encroachment of data centers in their localities, others see them as indicators of economic development.
Across Asia, bamboo scaffolding has symbolized an intersection of traditional knowledge and modern construction. Hong Kong's skyline is shaped by intricate bamboo scaffolding, yet this time-honored craft is steadily vanishing from the region. Moving east, Indian cities still utilize bamboo scaffolding on building sites throughout the subcontinent, revealing a different kind of paradox.
In heritage districts from Prague to Paris, a countdown has begun. Years until countless architectural treasures become, quite literally, worthless. Not through the slow erosion of time or the erratic shifts of cultural taste, but through the inevitable mathematics of atmospheric chemistry. In UrbanDecarbonisation: Destranding Cities for a Post-fossil Future, Paolo Cresci, Francesca Galeazzi, and Aurel von Richthofen introduce the concept of "carbon stranding", a scenario in which buildings become financially non-viable due to tightening carbon regulations. This threatens to render entire heritage districts financially extinct before they reach their centennials.
Touted as the new era in construction, Building Information Modeling (BIM) has captured global attention with its promise of seamless coordination, trimmed budgets, and newfound efficiencies. Yet in India's construction landscape, the adoption of technology tells a more nuanced story about cultural barriers and technical limitations.
"The bigger barrier isn't the technology but rather the planning culture," explains Rahul Bahl Managing Director of Krishna Buildestates Pvt Ltd, highlighting what may be BIM's most fundamental challenge in India. "BIM requires that every detail be finalized before construction begins, from electrical switch locations to final finishes. In India, we often break ground with just the shell resolved and spend the next several months value-engineering as we go."
Heritage preservation and economic viability have long been treated as competing priorities in urban development. Architects typically face a stark choice - to design for community continuity or design for financial returns. Contemporary projects in Mumbai render this binary false. Through strategic programming, material choices, and spatial organization, architects enable buildings to generate sustainable revenue while strengthening, rather than displacing, existing communities.
The concrete canyon of Melbourne's Degraves Street was once a stark service corridor in functional obscurity. Today, the narrow laneway now pulses with life beyond its famous café. Native grasses cascade from carefully positioned planters while small shrubs create cooling microclimates. Challenging traditional ecological design models, community-led approaches to biodiversity invite a reimagining of how architects, planners, and communities collaborate to develop biodiverse urban futures.
In 1982, at a conference on earth building in Tucson, Arizona, an unusual presentation challenged everything architects thought they knew about rural resources. Instead of focusing on construction techniques, the presenter, architect Pliny Fisk III, spread out a series of hand-drawn maps that revealed something extraordinary - rural Texas wasn't resource-poor, as conventional wisdom suggested, but material-rich beyond imagination. The maps showed volcanic ash perfect for lightweight concrete, caliche deposits stretching across vast territories, and mesquite forests that could supply both hardwood flooring and insulation. The revelation redefined prevailing notions of value in architecture.
Buildings are physical, static, and permanent. To imagine them otherwise often requires some creative thinking. The industry has operated with this strong association between structures and permanence, unknowingly constraining perspectives on building life cycles. Innovations in building materials have opened up avenues for cirular design that challenge the long-held notion that buildings must endure indefinitely. Emerging approaches promote architecture that ebbs and flows with nature.
Ebenezer Howard's verdant visions for cities have spread eastwards, far beyond his British roots. In the 1900s, city planning welcomed the Garden City Movement as a champion of good design - a response to Western industrial urbanization. Soon, Asian cities conceived their archetypes, juggling local constraints in climate and density. Designs and development, from colonial-era experiments to contemporary mega-projects, have embraced and reinvented Howard's vision well into the 21st century.
