
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.

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.

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.

Urban form can be understood as the physical “face” of a city. The organization of public and built spaces is what determines a city's urban form. Consequently, a city can be sprawling – characterized by low population densities, a reliance on private transport, and long commutes –, or compact, featuring balanced densities and multiple centralities. Achieving this latter model requires robust land-use management closely integrated with public transit planning.


The future of a city is intimately linked to its open and public spaces, which serve a distinct social function. Open spaces in Caracas are rebel spaces hosting emerging and insurgent uses: reoccupied, reclaimed, and reinhabited for the enjoyment of local communities.
In CCS - Espacio Rebelde, the city is not a matter for expert urban planners, designers, or architects, nor is it a matter for the elites: it is a process of inclusive consensus, collective construction, and community agreements.

Designed by Nicolás Moraga, the project Chambeque Ruins Cultural Park was selected as one of the 10 winners in the Thesis Projects 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.
A ruin does not only signal the end of a cycle; it is also the first stage of a long process of change. Based on this premise, the project proposes the progressive recovery of the Chambeque area through a series of architectural interventions that will shape a new public, cultural, and educational park for the city of Lota and the region.

In late November, we published the winners of the second call for thesis projects in Colombia, which received 70 submissions from 14 cities and 29 universities. Ultimately, nine projects passed the three stages of evaluation, standing out for addressing critical contemporary issues, conducting deep research and analysis, and proposing challenges in both urban and rural contexts, just as in 2016.
Here, we take an in-depth look at CAM Marsella: Municipal Administrative Center of Marsella, a project selected in the 2016 Colombian Biennial of Architecture Students, developed by Manuel Murgueitio and Edward Zapata, both graduates of the Universidad Católica de Pereira in Colombia.

From the Fundación Arquia Blog, architect Virginia Navarro brings us an article reflecting on the reasons for and importance of bringing architecture closer to children.
Recent years have seen a notable increase in the number of architects who, occasionally or continuously, have dedicated part of their practice to conducting architecture workshops for children. Their objectives have been both educational (developing critical thinking about the built environment, understanding cultural and urban heritage, and fostering spatial intelligence and creativity...) and informative: gathering data on children's needs within larger, typically social or participatory, projects.

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.

"Hidden within the co-residence and overcrowding of our Chilean cities lies the solution to the chronic housing deficit: people want the city, not just housing." So begins a statement released on May 24 by academics from the Universidad de Chile and the Universidad Católica, which to date has been endorsed by more than 50 prominent figures, including members of parliament, mayors, foundations, professional associations, universities, research centers, and former public authorities in the field.
Supported by the authors' own research and state metrics such as the CASEN survey and the national census, the signatories argue that in recent years, co-resident households have grown and the overall deficit has decreased, yet housing subsidies remain unused by citizens "because people prefer to forgo subsidies that would ultimately displace them to other municipalities."
The coordinators of the statement—Juan Pablo Urrutia, Cristián Robertson, Francisco Walker, and Javiera Martínez—propose "consolidating an agenda that prioritizes addressing this social phenomenon through integrated policies of medium-density development, urban regeneration, and social integration" through a cross-sector working group to help draft concrete proposals. The document has already been delivered to the Minister of Housing and Urbanism, Cristián Monckeberg.
Below, we present the full original text, titled "Co-resident households grow, overall deficit decreases, and subsidies go unused":

The initial question—and with it, the proposed discussion—stems from the original title of the article War-chitecture: How guilty are architects in urban violence? by Tomas Beverina, one of our readers in Argentina, who invites us to reflect on urban violence and prompts an even broader, collective debate.

Since 2016, Chile has been undergoing a gradual transformation of its building regulations thanks to the enactment of the historic Decree 50 of the General Ordinance of Urban Planning and Construction (OGUC). This decree mandates a national standard for universal accessibility, ratifying both the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (2008) and Law 20,422 (2010), which establishes standards for equal opportunities and social inclusion for people with disabilities.
This regulatory shift prompted the team at Corporación Ciudad Accesible to update their 14 “Accessible Fact Sheets,” now that compliance is a requirement rather than an option. "We want to achieve an accessible and universal vision where design envisions people beyond the traditional mold, so that those who do not move, see, hear, or understand the environment in conventional ways find the same opportunities and participation," explains their team.

Do identical brick blocks confuse you? Are you unsure whether to turn at this corner or the next because all the perimeter-block buildings look exactly alike? Do you lose your way in the narrow, winding streets of the city center? As it turns out, this is a common challenge for many, which is why it is essential for cities to invest in wayfinding systems designed specifically for pedestrians.
The benefits are numerous. First, it is an excellent way to promote the cleanest form of transit: walking. The advantages of this include easing public transit congestion, reducing vehicular traffic, encouraging a deeper familiarity with the city, and revitalizing businesses on secondary streets—not to mention the positive impact on tourists and visitors. This is precisely what the #LeerMadrid project aims to achieve. The initiative is currently being developed by Paisaje Transversal in collaboration with Applied Wayfinding, Avanti Avanti, Urban Networks/CGR, and Dimas García Moreno.

When Clorindo Testa was asked how he felt upon learning that one of his works, the Casa Di Tella, was going to be demolished, he replied: “I believe that buildings are not made to last. One can say that the Roman Colosseum will endure. They are not going to tear down Notre-Dame Cathedral, nor the Duomo in Milan. But when you design a project, you don't go around thinking it will be memorable and last forever. Works of this nature have owners, and owners change their minds. People and society also change: what was valid twenty years ago is no longer valid today. It is inevitable. Personally, it doesn't bother me in the least if they demolish a work of mine; I don't design things to last forever. You make things to function when they are commissioned, and they last as long as they need to. The Casa Di Tella was built for Di Tella, and Di Tella died. In a sense, it is no longer his house... It became part of an institute that bought it. Therefore, the functions it needs are different.” [1]
Testa's words reveal a remarkable humility that seems rare in the DNA of architects who yearn for the eternity of their work. Indeed, this desire for permanence was imposed on us almost as a mandate, a necessity. Palladio knew this well when referencing Vitruvius: “utility, perpetuity, and beauty.”

Most of us share childhood memories of drawing little houses—a triangular roof, a door, a window, and a tree beside it. What sets architects apart from the general public, however, is that we continue to make these drawings long after we grow up. Naturally, our skills usually mature along the way. Just as our residential architecture becomes more complex and refined, our representation of trees must also evolve (that broccoli-like scribble is unlikely to impress clients or professors). While trees are rarely the focal point of a drawing, they play a crucial role in architectural composition, establishing scale, casting shadows, and representing specific landscape designs.

Cities are critical to the functioning of many countries. With the rapid population growth of recent decades, urban centers have had to face a series of challenges, a primary one being mobility planning. In Brazil, with the enactment of the National Urban Mobility Policy (PNMU) in 2012, Brazilian cities received new guidelines to plan and guide policy actions toward establishing more sustainable mobility. To this end, the PNMU requires the development of Urban Mobility Plans for cities with over 20,000 inhabitants as a prerequisite for receiving federal budget allocations. Ultimately, this requirement aims to transform cities and the way Brazilians commute daily.


The architects and photographers of studio FLAGRANTE have shared with ArchDaily a series of photographs capturing the recently completed Japan House São Paulo, designed by Kengo Kuma in collaboration with local office FGMF.
Part of a global initiative by the Japanese government to “create a vision of contemporary Japan,” Japan House opened in May 2018, combining art, technology, and business to offer an escape into modern-day Japan.

Chile's history can be read through its towns. Blending the architectural and building traditions of its indigenous peoples with the influence of European immigrants, these small localities reveal how their inhabitants have occupied and appropriated the territory according to their needs, customs, and specific contexts.
With a landscape that changes drastically from north to south, certain patterns emerge, shaped by climate and geography. From the use of adobe and stone in desert regions to meticulous craftsmanship with native woods in the south, along with the rich colonial architecture of the central valleys, these 24 examples offer significant lessons that every architect should study closely. Read on to discover them below.

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.

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.

Humanity has always been obsessed with pushing its limits, setting records only to break them time and time again. Consequently, our cities' skylines have always been defined by those who hold power in any given era: once it was churches, then state institutions, and in recent decades, private skyscrapers have arisen to remind us who can reach the highest—literally.
Do you know what the tallest building in Latin America is? Specialized organizations like the CTBUH (Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat) have established parameters to objectively measure a building's height, discounting antennas and other additions used to tack on extra meters. Let's take a look at what the CTBUH says about the tallest skyscrapers in Latin America.
This list was last updated in July 2018.

La Minerva is an iconic monumental sculpture in Jalisco's capital, created by Joaquín Arias in 1957 and commissioned by then-governor Agustín Yáñez. Years passed, and it was during the 1986 World Cup in Mexico that, following a victory by the Brazilian team, their coach gave the players the afternoon off, and the celebration ended up taking place there—at the intersection of López Mateos, Vallarta, Golfo de Cortés, and Circunvalación Agustín Yáñez avenues. Since then, La Minerva has become the preferred venue for both celebrations and demonstrations. However, weathering and traffic-induced vibrations took a heavy toll on its structure.

Prison to Prison, Uruguay's official exhibition at the 2018 Venice Biennale, explores the existence of an unprecedented Freespace within the intimate relationship between two different architectural models of prisons.
The exhibition, curated by Sergio Aldama, Federico Colom, Diego Morera, Jimena Ríos, and Mauricio Wood, is an invitation to spark new dialogues and discussions that transcend the objects of study themselves, enriching our perspective and reconnecting us with the cultural dimension of architecture.

Have you ever wondered how an exhibition design is conceived? Or how it coordinates the staging of the displayed content?
Historically, what we know today as a museum began as a place to gather pieces and objects organized by typology. This is evident when looking at images of the so-called cabinets of curiosities or wonder rooms, which organized a vast array of rare objects and species (animal, plant, and mineral) brought back from the great explorations of the 16th and 17th centuries.
Centuries later, these collections began to gain traction, and former palaces transformed their hallways into long, continuous galleries, to which only their guests and residents had access. Later, in the 19th century, the emergence of pavilions dedicated primarily to the display of artifacts brought us closer to the modern concept of museums. We regularly publish various museum projects. But beyond their architecture, have you ever noticed the crucial role that exhibition design plays? Below, we outline some of the key concepts of exhibition design.

In recent years, we have witnessed the rise of the concept of “citizen participation,” particularly in the political sphere. As is often the case, this surge is not without controversy and carries inherent risks. Much like what occurred with the term “sustainability,” participation can be relegated to a smoke screen used to conceal specific types of political despotism. A clear example of this can be found in the Netherlands; in September 2013, King Willem-Alexander announced “the transition to a participatory society” to justify dismantling the welfare state through neoliberal policies and some of the harshest budget cuts the country has ever faced.
Clearly, urbanism and urban planning have not been immune to this trend. While the development of statutory urban planning instruments (General Plans, Partial Plans, Special Plans, etc.) is legally required to incorporate public participation mechanisms, the reality is that these are often reduced to public comment and exhibition periods. Consequently, actual participation is replaced by mechanisms that belong strictly to the realm of communication and information sharing.