Blending vernacular techniques with contemporary experimentation, Mexico's architectural landscape is shaped by a continuous dialogue between tradition, materiality, and modernity. As the fifth most biodiverse country in the world, Mexican architecture seeks to respond to its vast range of natural environments, climates, and cultural traditions, all within a territory marked by striking contrasts. Reflecting a visible duality, it can embody both exclusivity and act as a catalyst for social transformation.
Overprovision can be seen as an architecture strategy through the lens of resilience—making spaces adaptable to changes, reinterpretations, and future needs. However, could overprovision also offer a productive lens for rethinking spatial design? Are there parallels in architectural theory or practice that align with this concept, as explored by notable figures in the discourse on space?
This question becomes particularly relevant in residential design, especially in regions like Hong Kong or Tokyo, where the demand to maximize space is a cultural and practical norm. Designers are frequently tasked with "making use of every inch" for storage or function, reflecting a tendency among residents to accumulate belongings disproportionate to their living spaces.
Patio houses embody one of the most enduring architectural typologies, encapsulating the duality of openness and seclusion while nurturing a profound connection with nature. While the term is also used in contemporary American real estate to describe low-maintenance, single-story dwellings on small lots, its classic architectural meaning refers to an introverted design organized around a private, central courtyard. It is this traditional form, the subject of this article, that traces its origins back thousands of years. Patio houses emerged independently in various regions, responding universally to fundamental human needs: privacy, climatic adaptability, and spatial coherence. Despite diverse geographic and cultural expressions, the core principles of introversion, controlled openness, and environmental sensitivity remain remarkably consistent throughout the evolution of this typology.
Fireplaces have profoundly shaped architectural design, influencing how spaces are organized, experienced, and perceived. More than merely functional elements, they represent symbols of power, community, comfort, and culture, tracing humanity's evolving relationship with the built environment. From the primitive hearths that characterized early human settlements to the sophisticated ecological designs of contemporary architecture, fireplaces have reflected broader cultural, social, and technological changes, serving as enduring focal points in the spatial narrative of architecture. Scholars have frequently explored the intimate relationship between architecture and fire. Luis Fernández-Galiano, in his seminal work "Fire and Memory: On Architecture and Energy" argues that architecture fundamentally mediates the relationship between humanity and energy. By understanding how these structures have shaped spaces, symbolized cultural values, and driven technological innovation, we gain deeper insight into architecture's complex interplay between form, function, and meaning.
Seeking to create a fluid dialogue between architecture and its surrounding landscape, the study of topography embodies an awareness and exploration of the use of materials, self-sufficient strategies, low-maintenance solutions, and landscape designs that integrate into the natural environment and minimize the environmental impact of projects. Beyond recording variations in elevation, sun orientation, prevailing winds, or drainage slopes of the terrain, several architects in Argentina demonstrate a strong interest in developing architectural solutions capable of adapting to natural geographies and restoring the bond between nature and the human being.
What does a change in use and/or scale in buildings imply? How can a church or chapel be transformed into a home? While the architecture of many contemporary sacred spaces shows a remarkable capacity for adaptation and evolution, the creative boundaries of many professionals extend beyond their conception as structures of spirituality or worship. Globally, the conversion of large churches and small chapels into private residences reveals a wide field for intervention and exploration, one that can preserve, restore, adapt, and/or renew the character of spaces originally conceived for other uses and scales, which for various reasons have been abandoned, become obsolete, or now require transformation.
Earth-based flooring materials comprise natural elements such as clay, sand, silt, lime, and organic fibres. They offer both structural performance and sensory engagement when used in both outdoor and interior spaces. Due to their thermal properties, durability, and sustainable qualities, these materials have evolved from vernacular construction techniques into high-value architectural elements that are always being reinvented and optimized. There are several types of earthen floorings, each offering unique benefits, and they are increasingly used in interior settings.
At the turn of the millennium, the world was gripped by the looming threat of the Y2K bug, a potential failure of computerized systems that could disrupt everything from banking to aviation. As midnight approached on December 31, 1999, people withdrew their savings, major corporations issued warnings, and governments scrambled to prevent public hysteria. But as the sun rose on January 1, 2000, the feared bug had no material impact, and the crisis faded as quickly as it had emerged. However, this era left its mark in unexpected places — particularly in architecture. Amid the anxiety surrounding digital technology, one of the most iconic concert halls of our time, Casa da Música in Porto, was born. Designed by OMA (Office for Metropolitan Architecture), its origins can be traced to a much smaller project: the Y2K House. What began as an exploration of private domesticity during the digital scare evolved into a grand public structure — an architectural transition from home to a performance hall.
Humans and pets have long shared a deep and inseparable bond—and today, how we live alongside them is becoming increasingly important. Beyond offering companionship, pets are now often regarded as life partners, providing powerful support for mental health and emotional well-being. Yet it is not only the emotional connection that matters: the way we design and curate spaces for cohabitation with them plays a critical role in shaping meaningful spatial relationships between humans and their animal companions.
Whether through custom-designed furniture or more seamlessly integrated solutions like wall cavities and built-in nooks, an increasing amount of attention is being paid to how we can better coexist with pets in our homes. This shift reflects more than just affluence or pet ownership; it signals a broader evolution of companionship—one rooted in mutual support, emotional health, and shared environments.
How is it possible to maximize livability in small spaces? What design decisions contribute to functionality and the fulfillment of the inhabitants' essential needs? Over the past decade, small-scale architecture has gained prominence in the quest to find new ways of living in connection with nature and in pursuit of relative self-sufficiency, among other reasons. From minimal homes or tree houses to fine carpentry solutions and sculptures, the Portuguese design studio Madeiguincho is dedicated to developing timber-based projects with the aim of promoting knowledge of wood craftsmanship as both a raw material and a building medium.
Once seen as purely utilitarian, bare concrete blocks have increasingly become part of an architectural transformation. In regions where warm climates make insulation unnecessary, this material can be left exposed, free of cladding, finishes, or embellishment. In doing so, texture, bond, and form can define the building's character and simplify construction while creating new opportunities for expression and identity. This also creates a platform to explore the concept of material honesty. Beyond its aesthetic value, using a material "as is" can significantly reduce construction costs and minimize maintenance during the building's lifespan.
Every detail in the construction of an environment has a significant impact. The layout, composition, furniture, color range, and materials work together to create a cohesive and immersive experience in the perception of space. In bathroom design, this integration extends beyond aesthetics, aiming to ensure that every choice— from materiality to the form of furniture— contributes to economically viable, functional spaces with an aesthetic that doesn't rely on exclusivity. Architects and designers can shape diverse settings without sacrificing quality or visual coherence by focusing on cost-effectiveness and well-resolved solutions. In this sense, a democratic approach to design becomes a tool for creating environments where quality, functionality, and affordability are core principles.
https://www.archdaily.com/1028204/next-gen-living-customizable-high-quality-bathroom-design-within-reachEnrique Tovar
In 1993 a young professional couple with two toddlers and a large suburban lot in Naarden, a town less than half an hour's drive southeast of Amsterdam, approached Ben van Berkel to design an unusual house. They envisioned it as progressive and innovative in every way possible. More than that, they wanted a kind of building that "would be recognized as a reference in terms of renewal of the architectural language." Before settling on the architect, they spoke to several candidates, including Rem Koolhaas. They chose van Berkel who five years earlier, together with his then-wife Caroline Bos co-founded their eponymous practice, because as he told me, "I went to the site and studied it carefully and already had ideas about what I called the four quadrants of the landscape. I knew what kind of house it would be. I could see clearly where different rooms would go, how they would be shaped, and how they would relate to each other." The couple couldn't resist. Yet, there would be no rush on the project which took five years to complete, most time was invested in its design, going through many iterations and refinements, all based on the Möbius loop.
After two weeks of open voting in the16th edition of the Building of the Year Awards, our readers have meticulously narrowed down a pool of almost 4,000 projects to a select group of 75 finalists spanning 15 categories. This year's awards honor the pinnacle of design, innovation, and sustainability on a global scale, showcasing an exceptional range of projects within the shortlist. As a crowdsourced award, we take pride in affirming that your selections authentically mirror the current state of architecture, and the caliber of this year's finalists further underscores the excellence and diversity prevalent in the field.
Examining the houses that architects designed for themselves can provide insight into their design process, priorities, and philosophy. While often reduced in scale, these personal residences offer a peek into the architects' mindsets and the way in which they translate their ideas into lived spaces without having client-imposed restrictions on the end result. The structures also reflect their creators' personal values, lifestyles, and aesthetic preferences.
These projects are often experiments and testing grounds for their own design principles, pushing the boundaries of architectural expression. From Ray and Charles Eames, who ended up spending their lives in an experimental house created for prefabrication, to Frank Gehry, who used his Santa Monica Dutch colonial house to test out the ideas of deconstructivism that would later come to define his career, these projects represent showcase a different face of the design process of world-renowned architects.
On a slope, along the banks of a river, among trees, or on an expansive hillside, each territory serves as a living testament to its local traditions. Through its architecture, the experimentation, appreciation, and use of certain materials, construction techniques, local crafts, and site-specific tools aim to preserve stories and pass on the discoveries and learnings that have shaped many of the practices still used in construction today. In Chile, the language of wooden shingles evokes a reflection rooted in history and an understanding of relationships, timelines, and life networks.
On the shores of serene lakes, where water reflects the harmony between architecture and nature, homes emerge as true retreats. Designed to offer comfort and a deep connection with the surroundings, these residences stand out worldwide for their diverse materials and scales, adapting to different landscapes and lifestyles. From remote woodencabins to sophisticated concrete and glass mansions in urban areas, each project takes advantage of natural resources and the unique characteristics of its setting.