On behalf of the entire ArchDaily team, we would like to thank you for your continued support and for making 2020 our best year so far! We are now reaching more architects around the world and inspiring them in the creation of better built environments. With more than 5500 different projects published during the year, our curators are excited to share this collection of the 100 most visited projects of 2020. This selection represents the best content created and shared by the ArchDaily community over the past 11 months.
In 2016, the last modern masterpiece designed by world renowned architect Marcel Breuer, the Atlanta Fulton County Public Library, was slated for demolition. One of the Fulton County commissioners described the original design as looking “more like a jail” than a welcoming space for learning and productivity. To save the iconic building from the wrecking ball, changes would have to be made. This case study from cove.tool shows how energy and daylighting analysis is useful not only in new construction, but for revitalizing existing buildings as well.
Before the pandemic, the world was already facing a series of global transformations in the field of construction, where emerging countries were at the forefront of a powerful economic shift. As the world's population is expected to reach the 10-billion milestone before 2100, the construction sector should be able to understand and adapt to the megatrends that are reshaping the globe.
Redistribution of street space as a response to Covid-19 in Córdoba, Argentina. New areas were created for cyclists, pedestrians, and patrons of bars and restaurants. Photo: Municipalidad de Córdoba
As the venues of social life, public spaces are key elements of individual and collective well-being. They comprise a network of open areas such as streets, plazas, and parks, as well as sheltered spaces like public libraries and museums. This network serves multiple roles in cities, including recreation, social interaction, environmental conservation, circulation, and economic exchange. Despite their vital role in urban life, public spaces in Brazilian cities are, as a rule, poorly maintained, featuring insufficient lighting, broken sidewalks, and deteriorated street furniture—conditions that actively discourage use and result in social and economic losses that are commonly underestimated by both public authorities and the population itself.
Museum of Modern Art. Designed by Rio-born architect Affonso Eduardo Reidy. Image courtesy of CAU/BR
The period between the 1950s and 1970s in Brazil was primarily characterized by the production and dissemination of Brutalist architecture. Despite the lack of a unanimous definition of what constitutes this offshoot of modern architecture, the term "Brutalism" is generally used to denote buildings from the era that share a common denominator: the exposed use of construction materials, particularly concrete.
In 1936, the Brazilian Press Academy launched a competition for the design of its new headquarters in Rio de Janeiro. Herbert Moses, president of the Association, was, according to Cláudio Pereira (2002), in sync with international avant-garde trends, having even served as an interpreter for Frank Lloyd Wright during his lectures in Rio de Janeiro in 1931. It was Moses who handpicked the jury members, which consisted of ABI members, architects, and representatives from specialized organizations.
https://www.archdaily.com/1123740/proposals-collages-urban-context-and-the-abi-headquarters-buildingThiago Santos Mathias da Fonseca
Architecture, and all aspects of the design world, has experienced numerous movements throughout time that have defined the way we express ourselves through buildings, art, and other mediums. Created out of a dissatisfaction with the status quo or the emergence of new technology, there have been particularly notable design shifts and emerging ideologies over the last 100 years. This leaves us to ask the question- what design moment are we in now, and what characterizes it? How will we retroactively reflect on this moment of time in design, and will the COVID-19 pandemic accelerate innovation to bring us to our next design era?
Whether for environmental, structural, or aesthetic reasons, wood is widely used in contemporary architecture, although it still falls far short of its true potential. Properly managed, it becomes an inexhaustible resource—which, in itself, should attract significant attention from architects and other construction professionals.
To separate wood from its association with cladding and partitions—or purely ornamental uses—we have compiled 10 public and community projects of varying scales, from small neighborhood libraries to conference centers, built in locations as far apart as Ecuador and Bangladesh, that employ wood in their structures.
In the past, minarets were considered an important architectural element serving several purposes. They were built adjacent to mosques for the call to prayer, as well as at the entrances of cities as a main focal point to guide travelers. Today, however, the need for minarets has decreased as they have become tokens of historic times.
In the latest collection of his photo-series "Retrofuturism", Iranian architect and visual artist Mohammad Hassan Forouzanfar introduced a new function to historic Persian minarets through imaginary illustrations that compliment the aged brick structures with contemporary industrial archeology.
The existence of urban centers as hubs of trade and culture spans millennia. As construction, water supply, and transportation technologies developed—especially vessels capable of carrying large volumes of goods and people—small villages transformed into major cities.
By 500 BCE, there were already one million inhabitants in Rome. Yet it was only after 1760, following the Industrial Revolution in England, that cities began to take center stage. Since then, cities have faced monumental challenges, and so far, absolutely nothing has been able to disperse populations or dismantle large urban centers.
Riverbed exhibition by artist Olafur Eliasson. Courtesy of Louisiana Museum of Modern Art
When thinking of galleries, museums, and exhibition spaces in general, the image of an enclosed, well-lit room with white walls and a neutral floor—likely made of wood—commonly comes to mind. The notion of designing exhibition spaces as "pure" environments, whether to focus on the artwork itself or to facilitate the rotation of exhibitions, has perhaps been the dominant guiding principle in the creation of these spaces over the last few decades. However, just as art transforms space, space can also be a transformative agent for art. This shifting perspective gave rise to artistic productions conceived for specific venues, widely known as site-specific installations.
Staircases made of wood can offer a unique character to each project, thanks not only to the different configurations they can occupy in a space, but also to the variations in color and texture provided by different wood species and cuts, as well as the various ways of arranging the treads.
The first lockdown brought most of the world to a standstill, and many were quick to point out the silver lining: the significant drop in carbon emissions. However, this pollution reduction was short-lived, and past crises indicate that we might be standing at a crossroads when it comes to our climate goals. What has this unprecedented year meant for the efforts to curb climate change and protect the environment?
When it comes to designing commercial gastromic spaces, aspects like space efficiency, equipment distribution, materials, and organization are essential when considering the users' experience within the space.
Image of the 1981 winning design for Vale do Anhangabaú. Photo: Bruno Niz, 2019
The place where we are born, where we live, and our urban reference points are part of history and shape our identity. Can we decipher what these spaces tell us? Can we express our perception of them? Vale do Anhangabaú signals an essential part of São Paulo's development and is woven into the imaginary of those who have built memories there. This article is an exercise in traversing different themes to instigate multiple possibilities—collective and individual, real and utopian—of experiencing this space.
In 2005, while I was an architecture student at Columbia, visions of Bilbao danced through my classmates’ heads as they flocked to an architecture studio whose brief was to design an all-new Guggenheim Museum on Governors Island. I will admit that the prospect of exhibiting a spectacle for Columbia’s end-of-year show was seductive. But conducting field research for that class required only subway and ferry rides, while a studio offering in the historic preservation program promised a trip to Rome. I passed on creating another paper icon for New York and traveled to the Esposizione Universale Roma for one week that fall.
Floors, roofs, ceilings. Speaking in a very generic way, they are practically all the horizontal elements that we can find in the construction of a building. These three parts have a very similar way of modeling in Revit and this is the reason why when learning this software, they almost always appear one after the other. The order is usually a rather logical and therefore similar order: starting first with the floors, later the soffits and, finally, the ceilings. All this, clearly after having modeled the exterior and interior walls of our building.
Caring for the earth, caring for people, and caring for the future. These are the three ethical principles that have guided the practice of permaculture since the term was coined in the late 1970s by Australian ecologists David Holmgren and Bill Mollison. This was an era when the environmental movement gained significant traction, with the emergence of various organizations and movements united in an effort to curb the destruction of the planet's natural resources.
Its three core principles embody a commitment to caring for natural resources, pursuing a social life in harmony with nature, and creating systems to share these resources.