En Reserva, Peru's pavilion at the Venice Biennale 2018, aims to reveal an ancient layer hidden within the city of Lima, showcasing its urban and architectural generosity across different scales.
The exhibition, curated by architects Marianela Castro de la Borda and Janeth Boza, and journalist Javier Lizarzaburu, presents a large volume with a perimeter path, inviting visitors to reconstruct the links between past and present, before imagining the future.
Popularly known as the Ciudad de las Cajas Reales (City of the Royal Coffers), Chucuito is a small Peruvian town located 20 kilometers from Puno at an altitude of over 3,800 meters above sea level. Boasting a privileged location on the shores of Lake Titicaca, it was once part of the ancient pre-Columbian Tiwanaku culture and served as the seat of government for the Lupaca kingdom. During the Spanish colonial era, it became a strategic tax collection center, and today it preserves a valuable architectural legacy throughout its streets.
Following our guide to Puno's must-see landmarks—on the occasion of the recent XV TSL Puno—we recommend seven sites in this town nestled in the Peruvian highlands. Due to the high altitude (and particularly at the San Bartolomé viewpoint), visitors are advised to tour these landmarks with a companion, walk at a measured pace, and chew coca leaves to prevent altitude sickness.
“A thesis is like a pig; everything in it can be put to use,” concluded Umberto Eco in his book How to Write a Thesis. Indeed, these research projects, developed through four or five years of intense effort and sacrifice, become extraordinary tools and inexhaustible sources of information for both students and professionals looking to delve into a specific topic within their field of knowledge.
In Spain, the 2008 economic crisis triggered a notable increase in the number of architects who chose to pursue a doctoral thesis as a way to continue their academic training and expand their career options. Coupled with the rigorous training that Spanish architects typically receive, this has led to a vast body of exceptionally high-quality research, serving as an invaluable reference resource for both students and practitioners.
This article compiles 10 doctoral theses focused on major Spanish architects whose careers spanned the 20th century and who, for various reasons, left an indelible mark on the history of Spanish architecture during this period.
The LIMPAR SANTANA project involves constructing a sustainable basic sanitation system to clean up the waterways of Quilombo de Santana, in the state of Rio de Janeiro, aiming to improve the quality of drinking water in local homes.
Based on an assessment of the area's topography, geotechnics, and geography, the proposal suggests using evapotranspiration basins—a system that treats effluent through natural filtration and evaporation via banana leaves—and biodigester tank systems that convert wastewater into a usable byproduct for agriculture.
Architects Rafael Pina and Fabián B. Di Giammarino, writing for the ARKRIT Collective, offer an objective critique of a classic of Chilean architecture, the Copelec Building. As the authors of this article assert, beyond the many descriptive accounts surrounding the building, it has earned an unquestionable status precisely because it remains unquestioned.
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At more than 3,800 meters above sea level and on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the city of Puno stands as the folklore capital of Peru, where architecture, archaeology, and dance intersect. It is not only home to the Candelaria festival—declared an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO in 2014—but also sits just a few kilometers from the vast archaeological legacy of the Pucará and Tiwanaku cultures. Additionally, visitors can travel to the floating islands of Uros, Amantaní, and Taquile on the world's highest navigable lake.
Before going any further, if you are not accustomed to this altitude, we recommend drinking coca tea regularly or chewing coca leaves, which can be purchased at any local store. Furthermore, the weather can be highly unpredictable; a single day can bring sun, rain, and hail, so keep this in mind when choosing what to wear. Lastly, in Peru, streets that are at least ten blocks long, narrow, and usually one-way are called jirones (abbreviated as Jr.).
Today, companies seek to connect different generations and leverage their unique contributions to the workplace. They aim to maximize innovation through the synergy generated by combining the drive of younger generations with the experience of older workers. Given the specific characteristics of each age group—including differing values, experiences, styles, activities, and expectations—both the workspace and the way we work are being rapidly redefined.
What happens when we juxtapose two works by two renowned architects, Mies van der Rohe and Rem Koolhaas, completed twenty-five years apart? We find the answer in the following article by the Arkrit Collective.
Today, 470 cities across 36 countries identify as educating cities and are networked through the International Association of Educating Cities (IAEC), which, in its founding charter, argues that cities possess a raw educational potential waiting to be unlocked. Beyond the IAEC, other municipalities have also taken on the challenge of connecting spaces, people, and actions around learning processes that prioritize the holistic development of their inhabitants.
In recent decades, architecture and the built environment professions have maintained an insular attitude, separating them from relevant conversations and preventing them from identifying opportunities and new territories to conquer. The future will require leaders with a broad and refreshing vision of our field: leaders, both men and women, with the sharpness and skills to identify real problems across a wider spectrum of fields than ever before, capable of transforming them into innovative, high-impact business opportunities that connect better with society and generate greater value.
The omnipresence of technology, demographic pressure, exponential urban growth, and various environmental threats are transforming how we plan, understand, and interact with space—in short, our way of life. To face this landscape, we must evolve faster than our context. As architecture and design professionals, we possess exceptional talent as a group. We have the capacity to think in systems, naturally combining creative and proactive approaches with strong analytical skills, and we are capable of integrating highly disparate factors into a long-term vision, making us excellent strategists. Leveraging this talent from a much broader professional perspective does not mean discarding our traditional roles, but it does require questioning the status quo: like a tree, the higher we aim to reach, the deeper our roots must grow.
Keeping the following ideas in mind can serve as a valuable guide in this compelling process of redefinition:
Exorcity presents itself as the treatise on millennial architecture. It features 35 radical and subversive projects by daring students, all set within the urban context of Madrid. These are 35 projects in which the city is understood as a testing ground and a playground for thought. Elegance, violence, reason, seduction, chance, desire, emotion, power, dreams, and love come together here to challenge, alter, and stimulate the reader both visually and intellectually. It offers a fascinating, fresh vision from the young architects who will design the future of Madrid and Spain.
As such, Exorcity represents an effort to give visibility to the necessary transformation that architecture has been undergoing in academia in recent years. This transformation is driven by a new generation of architects—defined as digital natives—who are responding and providing disruptive, intelligent solutions to the complex, difficult challenges of the urban context.
Writing for the ARKRIT Collective, architect Carmen Espegel presents an article that exemplifies how the home can serve as a simple refuge for the essence of life—defined by the survivor's austerity, voluntary renunciation, and a rejection of the bourgeois lifestyle.
Originally published as Collaborative Design of Public Space: The Triple Dimension, this new collaboration by Paisaje Transversal proposes a specific methodology for both evaluating the quality of public space and facilitating urban design "if we want to transform public space into a living fabric," the authors explain.
Public space is the fluid that unifies the city, the fabric that stitches buildings together and weaves social, economic, and environmental relationships. It shapes issues as crucial as mobility, coexistence, and a community's cultural exchange, as well as the environmental quality that directly impacts everyone's health.
Public space shapes our daily lives, either offering or depriving us of spaces for socialization. Consequently, it is a priority, both for the sustainability of the city and the lives of its inhabitants—a matter that demands the involvement of not only urban design professionals but also the general public. To achieve this, citizens must understand the factors that determine the livability and functionality of public space, just as they recognize the characteristics of decent housing.
In their classic setup, with a classroom consisting of a blackboard, a standing teacher, and seated students, the interior spaces of a school can easily be mistaken for prisons. Now consider the outdoor, public areas of most educational institutions in Brazil: how often can a place be recognized as a school simply by looking at it from afar?
How many children do we see daily playing in the streets, interacting with elements of urban spaces, running in parks or plazas, or riding their bikes? These scenes can say a lot about a city—not only about how it is caring for its younger generations, but also about the quality of life it offers families; which is to say, for everyone.
The team led by Oscar Luengo and Álvaro Parraguez won first place in the Pasarelas San Borja competition in Chile. The main objective of the competition was to recognize "the best urban design ideas that contribute to defining intervention criteria and generating proposals for the San Borja Neighborhood."
Titled Corredores San Borja, the winning proposal "proposes the walkways as connecting spatial corridors between towers, plazas, and peripheral activities, allowing for fluidity and articulation between the complex's disconnected interior and exterior spaces."
During the design process of a building, design professionals from various disciplines are called upon to propose solutions that ensure client requirements and expectations are met.
Design decisions, which until the 1980s were often not grounded in objective criteria, have gradually become more evidence-based. This shift aims to reduce design and execution errors, material waste, and operational inefficiencies, while also systemically recognizing best practices.
Created by the Ecuadorian firm ENSUSITIO, the Con Lo Que Hay Workshop is a course taught separately to architecture students at the Universidad Tecnológica Indoamérica (UTI) and the Pontificia Universidad Católica del Ecuador (PUCE), offering them the opportunity to work on their first real commission. As a result, students must navigate not only the design itself, but also engage with communities, clients, budgets, and, of course, their own peers.
"We do not see architecture as a product," write Enrique Villacís alongside Cynthia Ayarza and Lorena Rodríguez, co-founders of ENSUSITIO, who serve as the workshop's tutor and professional advisors, respectively. "It is an organic process built day by day alongside its inhabitants, from diagnosis to use and maintenance, including the *minga*—collective construction. Everything is built under the principles of 'what is available'—materials, local wisdom, and our own contributions that value ancestral knowledge within a contemporary context," they add.
On this occasion, we present three projects developed on the periphery of Quito: a collection center, a dining hall for an evangelical congregation, and an outdoor therapy space.
Fábrica Puigneró is a project by Santi Julià Xercavins and Bernat Pedro Planas, focusing on the adaptation of abandoned industrial infrastructure in towns that were once heavily dependent on industrial production.
For their final thesis project at the Universitat Politècnica de Catalunya, the authors designed a comprehensive intervention for the former Hilados y Tejidos Puigneró textile mill in the town of Sant Bartomeu, Spain. "This transformation and retrofitting of the factory aims to generate a new livable framework, utilizing selective demolition and the integration of public space as its primary strategies," the authors explain.
It was in Granada, specifically at the Alhambra Palace, where on October 14 and 15, 1952, a group of Spanish architects including Miguel Fisac, Secundino Zuazo, and Fernando Chueca met to reflect on and establish a new direction and foundation for modern Spanish architecture. The outcomes of that meeting were summarized in a document whose tenets remain remarkably relevant today, known as the Alhambra Manifesto [pdf].
Sixty-five years later, under vastly different historical, social, and cultural circumstances, architects from across Spain are gathering once again in Granada for the III National Congress on the Future of the Architect. Running from yesterday, Thursday, April 11, to tomorrow, Saturday, April 13, the event serves as a platform to share experiences, analyze the current state of the profession, and debate the future possibilities of this exciting field.
Over the last twenty years, the world has never been so connected. At the turn of the century, the digital realm seems to have invaded analogue layers, redefining standards, lifestyles, interactions, and the way we connect and use spaces. This social redefinition is strongly attributed to Generation Z—the cohort born during the transition from the 20th to the 21st century, between the 1990s and 2010s. But do you know the defining characteristics of this group?
On Friday, December 22, 2017, the inaugural MUGAK Basque Country International Architecture Biennial opened the exhibition "The City We Lost: Urban Heritage Management in San Sebastián, 1950-2017" at the Santa Teresa Convent in San Sebastián, Spain. The exhibition showcases recognizable local buildings that have disappeared over the last few decades.
Curated by the Áncora association, the exhibition traverses San Sebastián's neighborhoods to examine a city that now exists only in collective memory—specifically, buildings lost over the past seven decades. Stretching from Martutene to Igeldo, and including Alza, Amara, El Antiguo, and Ibaeta, the survey goes beyond the city's iconic heritage, looking past San Sebastián's most prominent areas to highlight other architectural works.
Born in Artigas, Uruguay, in the second decade of the twentieth century, Eladio Dieste became an exceptional builder, with most of his work located in Montevideo, the capital of his home country, and its adjacent cities. However, his work gained broader international recognition posthumously, after the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) celebrated it in 2005 through the theoretical work of Stanford Anderson. Trained as an engineer, his relationship with the construction site and in situ experimentation allowed him to push materiality and structural possibilities to their absolute limits.
With a practice deeply connected to the relationship between materiality and the construction site, he developed a rich architectural output based on studies of thin ceramic shells, which he termed reinforced ceramics. Alongside this construction technique, Dieste found that ceramic bricks offered the essential structural resolution he sought. The material possessed excellent structural properties—highly resistant to compression, quick to build with, and easy for local labor to handle—while the addition of steel reinforcement allowed it to resist tension and bending. Consequently, he found in brick the ideal medium for the plasticity and structural design he envisioned, enabling him to span large distances with slender self-supporting structures anchored only at their ends. Free of central supports, these structures unified walls, floors, and ceilings into a single cohesive body.
But what makes Eladio Dieste such a remarkable builder?
Since the mid-20th century, the Castagnino Museum has established itself as one of Argentina's most important cultural spaces. The historic building by the architectural firm Hérnandez Larguía-Newton (1937) was built in a privileged setting, conceived as the gateway to the city—a condition that will be further emphasized by the new intervention.
