What does luxury mean when products are designed for quick obsolescence? Recorded live at Milan Design Week 2026 in cooperation with INDX|GLOBAL, the eighth episode of the Room For Dreams podcast brings together architects Priyanka Mehra, Simran Boparai, Ashmit Singh Alag, and Adreesh Chakraborty to dissect the evolving, often contradictory relationship between exclusivity, sustainability, and purposeful craftsmanship.
Every building begins somewhere else. The sand in its concrete, the stone on its façade, the lithium that may one day power its systems. It arrives, already stripped from a mountain, a riverbed, or a salt flat thousands of kilometers away, having passed through a chain of trucks, ships, and customs declarations that erase almost everything about where it came from. Architecture tends to treat material as a starting condition, something simply available, but extraction is where construction actually begins.
Communicating an idea using only the essentials is a far greater challenge than it often appears. From Japanese haikus to the refined sculptures of Constantin Brâncuși, many artistic expressions have sought to condense the maximum meaning with the minimum of elements. This economy of form is not a sign of scarcity, but of intensity: every stroke, every word, every silence gains weight. There is something intrinsically appealing in what presents itself as simple and well-resolved, whether it is a text that wastes no words, a tennis player who moves with purposeful gestures, or a melody that is both direct yet unexpectedly profound.
What will the future of steel be? How can this material build the foundation for sustainable economic development and the transition to a low-carbon society?
There is a big difference between looking at an image of a building and experiencing the space it represents. The atmosphere of a place, shaped by its light, sounds, materiality, and relationship with the surrounding landscape, has long belonged to the realm of physical experience. Today, real-time rendering technologies are beginning to narrow that gap, allowing projects to be explored and experienced before they are ever built.
In the twenty-first century agenda, adaptive reuse is understood as a creative and meaningful approach to the development of the built environment. In the face of an era marked by adaptation and transformation, the shaping of human experiences aligns with the principle of "reuse, reduce, recycle." From the authenticity of place to the inherent value of materials, working in dialogue with the past makes it possible to envision new futures that engage with the uses, traditions, and beliefs of earlier eras. By considering each building as a collection of tangible and intangible elements that shape its identity, adaptive reuse interventions require a deep understanding not only of construction methods, structural systems, and spatial rhythms, but also of the cultures that built, inhabited, and will one day occupy these places.
The accelerating rise of a homogenized, worldwide aesthetic is forcing creators to confront a critical reality: design trends are effortlessly transcending geography, but local identity is paying the price. The fifth episode of the Room For Dreams podcast tackles a head-on investigation into whether a boundaryless market is quietly erasing design diversity. Recorded live at Milan Design Week 2026 in cooperation with INDX|GLOBAL, host Claire Broadka of designboom sits down with Sachi Gupta, Shilpi Sonar, Krithika Subrahmanian, and Sumit Dhawan to map out the reality of the borderless creator.
Many factors influence people's well-being, but few have power as great as the quality of sleep. Adults spend, on average, a third of their day (and their life) sleeping. In the case of young children, this proportion is even higher. According to a study published by the WHO in 2019, babies (4 to 11 months) should sleep between 12 and 16 hours/day; and children up to 4 years old should sleep between 10 and 13 hours/day.
Steel frame is a system composed of galvanized steel profiles, with a thickness between 0.80 mm and 3 mm, cold bent, and assembled as structural frames, with vertical and horizontal studs. To wrap the structural profiles, OSB, cementitious or plasterboard sheets are used, which can be finished and painted internally and externally. Inside the walls, insulating materials can be included, such as mineral, glass wool, or others, to increase the thermal acoustic insulation. In the steel frame system, all the electrical and hydraulic parts are installed before closing the panels, making the process more efficient and without breakage and material waste. Cleanliness of the work, efficiency and speed are key points in this constructive system that is widely spread around the world.
Brick is one of the most widely used materials in Colombia, helping local architecture stand out globally. This prominence is due to the exceptional quality of the clay found in several regions of the country. Beyond cladding the majority of the buildings that define Bogotá's urban landscape, the material is used in all its forms, from adobe to floor tiles in rural homes.
An experiential rebellion takes center stage in the fourth episode of the Room For Dreams podcast, hitting directly at the heart of today's screen-deep, image-obsessed design culture. Recorded live at Milan Design Week 2026 in cooperation with INDX|GLOBAL, host Claire Broadka sits down with four Indian architectural voices — Indrajit Kembhavi, Manish Gulati, Sanjay Singh, and Sidhartha Talwar — to explore a critical question: have we sacrificed the soul of architecture for the sake of a picture-perfect Instagram post?
One of the defining qualities of contemporary interiors is flexibility. Offices, education facilities, hotels, and cultural venues need to be adaptable. They require spaces that can expand, divide, open, and close according to different activities, without sacrificing comfort, or accoustics. How a space is subdivided, then, is no longer a secondary decision, but a central component of architectural performance.
A building material rarely begins where architecture encounters it. By the time concrete reaches a construction site, its limestone has already been quarried, processed, and transformed. Timber arrives long after the forest. Glass appears detached from the sand from which it was made. By the time materials enter construction, much of the landscape and industry that produced them has already disappeared from view.
In 1743, a small cabin suspended by ropes was installed in a courtyard of the Palace of Versailles for the private use of King Louis XV. Manually operated by servants hidden from view, the so-called "flying chair" allowed movement between floors without stairs, and unknowingly introduced one of the central questions of modern architecture: how to move people vertically in a way that is efficient, safe, and integrated into the building.
For some time now, it has become common to wonder where the things we consume come from. We check labels, seek out local producers, and investigate supply chains in an attempt to understand the impact of our habits, whether on our own health or on the planet.
Set on the banks of the Sava River in Belgrade, Serbia, the site of a former cement factory became the starting point for the 21st edition of the Saint-Gobain Architecture Student Contest. Organized in cooperation with the World Green Building Council, OneClick LCA, the City of Belgrade, the Academic Yachting Club Belgrade, the Serbia Green Building Council, and the Green & Blue Corridors Association, invited students to imagine a new Sports and Recreation Hub capable of transforming an industrial waterfront into a year-round public destination. More than 200 universities from 34 countries participated in this 21stedition of the Architecture Student Contest.
The third episode of the Room For Dreams podcast confronts one of the most pressing dilemmas in modern urban planning: how to breathe in new life into old structures without erasing their history. Recorded live at Milan Design Week 2026 in cooperation with INDX|GLOBAL, this dynamic session gathers a panel of architects — Kiran Gala, Vivek Gupta, and Carl Bhesania — to unpack the complex realities of adaptive reuse.
Barcelona is the first city in the history of the UIA World Congress of Architects to host the event twice. The 1996 edition, Present and Futures: Architecture in Cities, arrived at a charged moment, when the post-Olympic city was consolidating an urban model that would become one of the most studied and contested in contemporary urbanism, and when architecture was learning to think through the large metropolis as its primary site of inquiry. Thirty years later, the same city reopens the question under a different condition: one in which the built environment can no longer be understood as a self-contained object, but only through the wider ecological, material, and political systems that sustain it. The theme of the 2026 Congress — Becoming. Architectures for a Planet in Transition — does not abandon the urban concerns of 1996; it reopens them from a planetary scale.