In just over three months, Érica Oiticica and Sâmyla Souza, students at the School of Architecture and Urbanism (FAU) of the Federal University of Juiz de Fora (UFJF), designed a Complete Street project that earned them an award and the opportunity to present their ideas to a global audience at a conference in Tanzania. The “As Cidades Somos Nós” (Our Cities Ourselves) competition inspired the duo to put their best urban planning ideas onto paper to transform a street in Belo Horizonte.
Jaime Sanz Haro, from the ARKRIT Collective, invites us to reflect—in an article originally titled "Regulations, the New Architectural Treatise: Vitruvius, Alberti, Palladio, and the General Plan"—on the role and consequences of regulatory frameworks in urban planning.
Escola Sem Muros (School Without Walls) emerges from a desire for other possible practices and alternative ways of learning and relating: with one another, with the walls of the city, and with the learning potential inherent in each territory and individual. It brings together people who have joined for a common purpose: to go beyond physical, social, and political barriers, and to open cracks in both urban brutality and the educational formats that segregate worlds. Its methodology is based on engagement (valuing local identity), construction (the building site as a learning platform), and care (shared management of public spaces and care structures), proposing a process of holistic education.
In this post, the Arquia Foundation Blog, together with architect Carlos Cámara, invites us to reflect on learning digital tools in architecture, a recurring topic of debate in the training of new architects, given that the use of different software seems to grow more valuable by the day. Based on this reality, which is increasingly distant from the pencil, the questions in this article arise... How are these new technologies being taught to students? Are they tools that foster dependent consumption? Are these tools conditioning the design creativity of future architects?
The practice and work of Fausto Banderas Vela stood out significantly within a generation of architects working since the 1960s, forging new paths in Ecuadorian architecture. His projects do not go unnoticed; into them, he poured research, reflection, and experience. He embraced the complex dimension of architecture, conscious of the need to transcend an individual vision and focus in order to emphasize the confluence of multiple contributions.
“Architecture is a complex and collective endeavor. To my understanding, there is no possibility of confronting the subject individually; not in design, where dialogue and mutual contribution are required, nor, obviously, in construction, since a work of architecture only begins to exist when it transitions from graphic and written documents into a material reality”1. He pointed out that architecture only truly exists when materialized. Thinking, designing, and constructing it are stages of the process embraced by Fausto Banderas, enabling him to achieve coherence and quality.
Conventional, spiral, curved, U-shaped, ship's ladder... there are various models and possibilities for designing stairs in projects, depending on space constraints and design intent. But what unique characteristics does the Santos Dumont staircase possess compared to others? Named after its creator, the inventor and pioneer of Brazilian aviation, this model serves as a middle ground between a typical inclined staircase and a vertical ladder. Its slope is much steeper than that of a conventional staircase, and its steps feature alternating cutouts for the left and right foot, reducing its footprint and saving space.
The Instituto Tomie Ohtake AkzoNobel Architecture Prize, aimed at professionals up to 45 years old, shows that Brazilian architectural production is not currently experiencing a good moment. The responsibility, certainly, does not lie with our architects and urban planners, but with the lack of importance that public administrators, in general, have given to urban interventions and high-quality design.
One could argue, given the few outstanding proposals, that this is the result of the current economic crisis and the standstill in the real estate sector and public policies linked to the built environment, such as urban design, housing, mobility, social infrastructure, and the environment.
Lola Barcia Albacar and Marinela Forcadell Breva, known as Fotolateras, are two Spanish photographers who describe themselves as tireless travelers passionate about pinhole photography. This technique, one of the oldest in the world of photography, involves capturing images with almost no conventional photographic equipment.
This technique requires expertise, as each can captures only a single photograph and exposure times can exceed a full minute. However, the results are well worth the effort: images imbued with a captivating beauty. In the case of Fotolateras, Lola and Marinela use cameras built from cans, where the lens is simply a tiny hole drilled into the surface.
Westbank is a developer of high-end luxury residential properties and Canada's premier hotel developer—its portfolio includes Vancouver House, designed by BIG, which has become one of the world's most high-profile urban developments. The Avior is situated in Minami-Aoyama, a prestigious neighborhood near Tokyo’s renowned Omotesando shopping district. The area is a hub of architectural landmarks, home to Jun Aoki's Louis Vuitton Maison, Toyo Ito's Tod’s, Kengo Kuma’s LVMH Japan headquarters, and Tadao Ando's Omotesando Hills, among others.
Human beings are “seeing machines.” Except for those who lack this faculty, our eyes are our greatest generator of information. The brain then interprets these images accordingly… We must not confuse "looking" with the act of "seeing" something. Looking, an automatic and passive response, must become the act of seeing—of processing all those bits of information into something concrete and tangible. Sherlock Holmes observed an earlobe to deduce kinship; Proust, the hem of a dress or the nape of a neck to understand a woman profoundly… Where is the sign hidden? How do we know, in any image—whether verbal, visual, or auditory—which is the signifying part and which is the neutral, empty background, the noise to be discarded?
While our eyes capture and absorb this information, and our brain processes and translates it, it is photography—more specifically, our camera—that manages to retain it, freezing it in a photograph so that once our eyes have stopped looking, they can begin to see. As Le Corbusier simply put it, “one must see what one looks at.”
As the year comes to a close, we look back... what captivated us most? After presenting the best architecture of the year, we now focus on identifying representative projects. Among the wide range of Peruvian works published in 2018, those that had the greatest impact on our platform span various scales and typologies. Below, you will find everything from a private house to a public library, by both established and emerging architects—reflecting architecture for everyone.
May the work continue.
What is it about the work of Joaquín Vaquero Palacios that still surprises us after all this time, making it worthy of an exhibition at the Museo ICO and so many visits by specialists? I have often been called upon—a role I gladly accept—as the local point of contact for those coming to Asturias to see Vaquero's work. The willingness of Hidrocantábrico, and now EDP (I still speak with the same people; many thanks to Nicanor Fernández and his team), is always absolute, stoically accommodating last-minute adjustments. After all, outsiders often fail to realize, for instance, that traveling to Grandas de Salime remains a major trek that takes up—and fills with joy—an entire day, and that security protocols are paramount.
On one occasion, we brought a busload of students from the Universidad Internacional Menéndez Pelayo, and by the end of the day, they were applauding on the bus as if they had just witnessed an opera. And indeed they had: Vaquero's grand formal opera. This year, in fact, I served as a guide for the Master of Advanced Architecture program at the Universidad Politécnica de Madrid, directed by Juan Herreros—a passionate admirer of Vaquero who has joined us on many occasions—with students from five different countries who were left awestruck upon seeing the power plants. We also crossed paths in Proaza, in the offices, and in Veriña with the young team of architects designing this exhibition, who were meticulously reviewing every element and archive they found in the buildings.
The lives of 32 families took a turn —quite literally— when the homes they occupied in the 1980s became a designated tourist attraction in 2009. Some of the residents decided to capitalize on this by offering small tours of their homes. Yet, despite the crowds of tourists that have flocked here since, the community remains as tightly knit as the cubes themselves.
The social housing model currently seems like a utopia in Spain—ruled by developers and real estate firms, and mired in national policies that fail—and have always failed—to address the housing problem.
Over the years, the idea has been promoted that renting a home is almost a crime, throwing away money that could otherwise go toward purchasing property. Welcome to the wonderful world of real estate speculation. Driven by exorbitant rents set by real estate agencies or landlords with absolutely no state or provincial regulation to control them, the system itself pushes the population to take out mortgages and participate in private development. While over 50% of housing in Spain was rented back in the 1950s, those figures are a far cry from the progressive decline that brings us to the present day: nearly 80% of current housing is owner-occupied, while rentals have shrunk to just 20%.
Building your own home. This is perhaps one of the greatest aspirations for many people—not only architects, but anyone who wants to see the vision of their dream home come to life. Others, however, approach it from a perspective more focused on legacy: sentiments like “my great-grandfather built this house” serve as their driving force. It is about preserving memory in the form of a building.
Nevertheless, one must consider the challenges of being your own developer, of not relying on a real estate agency. It is a difficult path. Consequently, many people abandon this dream to avoid the complications, ultimately opting to buy an apartment or a house.
The Faculty of Architecture at UNAM is one of the most highly recognized institutions both nationally and internationally, a status demonstrated each year through various exhibitions, festivals, publications, lectures, symposia, and competitions. Recently, we had the opportunity to connect with eighth-semester students from the Jorge González Reyna Studio to invite them to participate in a selection of the semester's best work. By publishing these projects on our platform, we aim to motivate students and build stronger ties with the student community—the next generation that will build and question the future of our cities.
When Paisaje Transversal was founded, 10 years ago, one of our driving motivations was to demand and advocate for a more responsible profession—one that is respectful of both its own guild and society as a whole. At the time, we saw—and we still see today—that one of the most damaging consequences of Architecture's self-absorption and self-sufficiency (the capital "A" is ironic; we prefer talking about architectures), both in the professional realm and, to an extreme degree, in universities, is the profound ignorance it fosters around fundamental topics like labor, business management, and the law, among many others.
This widespread ignorance—proudly imposed and self-imposed because these are dismissed as dry, secondary matters—has in practice led to an anomalous system where fraud, exploitation, precariousness, and self-exploitation are all too frequent. This, naturally, ends up harming professionals, the profession, and society at large.
A less obvious cause of this phenomenon is that, in many cases, this dereliction of duty is voluntary. It stems either from an unsupportive, anti-system liberal stance, or from the precariousness of a profession that was once wealthy and now refuses to accept its new economic reality.
Below, we list five principles we believe must be shared and championed to rebuild a dignified and responsible profession:
Hans Scharoun [1893-1972] drew from this language. Along with many of his contemporaries—Mies, Taut, Mendelsohn, and Häring himself—he was shaped by the expressionist milieu of postwar Germany, studying under Poelzig at his Breslau School. This expressionism first appeared in a series of watercolors he contributed to the *“Gläserne Kette” (“Glass Chain”)*, the famous correspondence network among architects and artists in Germany at the time. Conceived by Bruno Taut, this chain of letters served as a medium of communication among the group's members. In these letters, liberated from the constraints of feasibility, the members outlined their visions of an ideal society and a benevolent architecture.
By the 1920s, however, on the cusp of another conflict, a culture of resourcefulness and efficiency took root once again globally. Economic recovery demanded austerity, a trend reflected not only in household management but across many artistic avant-gardes of the period—a collective quest for material, formal, and, consequently, economic efficiency. Rationalism emerged as the dominant trend, championed by architects like Hannes Meyer and André Lurçat, who sought to strip the communicative attributes of architectural language down to zero in favor of addressing the organizational tasks demanded by technological and political developments.
Many cities are watching their historic centers gradually wither away: businesses close, building renovations decline, rental rates drop, and there is no generational renewal in the area. The conveniences of newly developed areas (elevators, parking, shopping) mean that many young families do not even consider moving back to downtown streets. This is the case in Olot, Spain, which, unlike other cities, has decided to take action and clearly understand the reasons behind this progressive abandonment of its old town. To do so, they turned to a process that consistently bridges local resident opinions with expert panels, building on a model previously implemented in Olot's Sant Miquel neighborhood.
Since April 2017, the urban innovation office Paisaje Transversal has been working alongside the Catalan city council in its effort to improve the quality of life in the downtown area and restore the vibrancy it never truly lost. To understand this process, the Participatory Diagnosis was recently presented. This document corresponds to the second phase of the #OlotMésB project, which aims to design the PIAM (Comprehensive Improvement Action Plan) for the city's Nucli Antic (Old Town). The document's primary goal is to analyze the realities of the historic center through various instruments, such as gathering and processing community and technical data, serving as a tool to define strategic guidelines and improvement actions tailored to the studied context. Community participation has been vital since the beginning of the process and will continue to be so in the upcoming phases.
The *smart city*, that great contemporary promise for solving urban problems, carries a history of contradictions that has culminated in a new term, an heir to concepts deeply rooted in the knowledge society: smartcitizens. Indeed, the recognition of this term highlights the need to review the impacts of the exclusively technological urban solutions that shaped early smart city proposals. Thus, the *smartcitizens* concept represents initiatives arising from collective intelligence that pave the way toward changing the socioeconomic structure of our cities, based on the capacity to stay connected, share information, and proactively engage with our environment.
*Smart cities* here, *smart cities* there, *smart cities everywhere*. For several years, we have witnessed the smart city boom, to the point where, seemingly overnight, every city is *smart*1. As a result, the popularity of the term has grown exponentially, eclipsing other, more comprehensive prior concepts such as the "sustainable city"2, or others that aligned more closely with the networked era and its resulting socioeconomic relationships, such as the "knowledge city"3.
Historically relegated to the private sphere, it was only in the 20th century that women truly began to exercise their right to the city and its dynamics. Even today, however, this claiming of space remains restricted. According to a survey by the Locomotiva Institute this year, eight out of 10 Brazilian women are afraid of walking alone at night.
In addition to the threat of violence, other barriers to women's sense of belonging, mobility, and free use of public space include the lack of policies designed to address their urgent needs, as well as their identities and perspectives.
Designed by Ignacio Lira Montes, the Ruta Memorial Selk'nam project was selected as one of the 10 winners in the Thesis Projects category of the Concurso Arquitectura Caliente 2018 (CAC 2018), a Chilean competition organized by Grupo Arquitectura Caliente and funded by the Ministry of Cultures, Arts, and Heritage.
The project stems from research on the Selk’nam people of Tierra del Fuego and how this ethnic group was exterminated by the owners of the Magellanic ranches. Studying Selk'nam cosmogony and visiting the site determined the design approach to this theme.
Architecture biennials showcase professional output on local, regional, and global scales. There are many such events worldwide, allowing us to discover the very best of our architectural work. In Peru, the biennial—sponsored by the College of Architects—is an opportunity to bring together different cohorts and generations, as well as to exchange ideas and experiences.
First and foremost, it must always be a professional Biennial; that is, it should call for works completed by Peruvian architects in their professional practice. That is its core purpose. I have nothing against undergraduate theses or student projects, but I do not believe this is the venue for them. Student biennials can easily be organized during national architecture student congresses. Furthermore, as this is an opportunity to showcase what is new and exceptional, I believe participation should be encouraged by charging an affordable entry fee to all Peruvian architects, whether they work in design or research, in the public or private sector.
Seventeen years ago, the world witnessed one of the most tragic events in history: the "September 11, 2001 attacks," leaving approximately 3,000 dead and more than 6,000 injured. Numerous other attacks had already occurred and continue to happen in various cities around the world. Because these are surprise events, scattered across territories but typically occurring in crowded public spaces, a wide range of actions has been taken to prevent them, challenging major powers and organizations focused on security strategies.
