As artificial intelligence tools sweep through creative industries, architecture stands at a pivotal moment: how to adopt systems that amplify design thinking without eroding authorship or craft. To understand how the profession is responding, AIRI Lab surveyed designers and leaders from practices including LWK+P, MVRDV, Gensler, Büro Ole Scheeren, CUBE, HUAYI, and others. Their responses reveal a nuanced, pragmatic view: AI is a collaborator rather than a substitute.
In cities across the world, the relics of industrial production have become the laboratories of a new urban condition. Warehouses, power plants, and shipyards, once symbols of labor and progress, now stand as vast empty shells, waiting to be reimagined. Rather than erasing these structures, architects are finding creative ways to adapt them to contemporary needs, transforming spaces of manufacture into spaces of culture, education, and community life.
This shift reflects a broader change in architectural priorities: building less and reusing more. The practice of adaptive reuse responds simultaneously to environmental urgency and to the need for cultural continuity in urban environments.
For a long time, architecture was understood as an essentially individual activity, dependent on the figure of a creative genius and centered on the ability to solve problems through drawing. Over time, this image began to fade. The protagonism once concentrated in a few names reached its peak during the era of the starchitects and gradually became distributed among offices, collectives, and multidisciplinary teams. Today, architects are expanding their boundaries into other fields such as gastronomy, music, design, and the corporate world, applying spatial thinking to address challenges of various kinds. As social, environmental, and political crises deepen, the role of the architect continues to evolve from a solitary author to a mediator, activist, and collective agent of transformation. This shift reflects an ethical awakening and a recognition that design, regulation, and care are inseparable dimensions of contemporary practice.
Zayed National Museum, the national museum of the United Arab Emirates and a major anchor of Abu Dhabi's Saadiyat Cultural District, has opened to the public. The project was awarded to Foster + Partners following a 2007 design competition, with construction commencing the following year. Its inauguration marks a significant moment in the UAE's cultural development, coinciding with a year that saw the opening of teamLab Phenomena Abu Dhabi and the Natural History Museum Abu Dhabi, as well as the reopening of Al Ain Museum, broadening the region's institutional landscape.
The Canadian Centre for Architecture (CCA) recently launched a new research project and institutional collaboration with M+ in Hong Kong titled How Modern: Biographies of Architecture in China 1949–1979. The project unfolds through an exhibition presented in the CCA's Main Galleries from 20 November 2025 to 5 April 2026, a series of commissioned films and oral history videos by artist Wang Tuo, online editorial content, public programming, and a companion book co-published by the CCA and M BOOKS. This collection of content seeks to reframe architectural histories of modernism in the first three decades of the People's Republic of China, revealing how design operated under shifting ideologies and socioeconomic pressures through the perspectives and experiences of architects, institutions, and residents. The project aligns with the CCA's ongoing interest in producing new readings of modern architecture across different sociopolitical contexts and geographical frameworks, including Architecture in Uniform: Designing and Building for the Second World War (2011) and Building a new New World: Amerikanizm in Russian Architecture (2020).
Every year on 3 December, the International Day of Persons with Disabilities brings renewed attention to the need for inclusive, equitable environments, both socially and spatially. The 2025 theme, "Fostering disability inclusive societies for advancing social progress," highlights how persistent barriers in employment, social protection, and access to services continue to affect more than one billion people worldwide. Within this broader context, the built environment plays a decisive role: architecture can either reinforce exclusion or open pathways toward autonomy, dignity, and participation in daily life.
For more than a century, residents of growing American cities reshaped their rivers to serve industrial and manufacturing needs. Waterways were straightened, deepened, paved, or buried to support shipping routes and to move materials efficiently across regions. These transformations created an urban landscape in which rivers were treated as productive infrastructure rather than as living ecological systems.
This approach left a lasting imprint. Riparian habitats disappeared, water quality declined, regional biodiversity grew vulnerable, and communities grew accustomed to river corridors dominated by steel walls and concrete channels. The industrial reshaping of rivers in places such as Chicago, Los Angeles, and the Mississippi basin created durable patterns of development that still influence how cities function today.
The quintessential symbol of Manhattan, Waldorf Astoria New York officially reopened for the public this year after an extensive renovation. Over its long history, the property has undergone numerous transformations, from its 19th-century beginnings to the modern landmark that stands between Park Avenue and Lexington Avenue.
Reimagining a building that pioneered modern hospitality—a jewel in New York's skyline—posed a challenge that required close collaboration between preservationists, 3D visualizers, architects, and designers. Together, they worked to preserve its protected architectural heritage while meeting contemporary expectations for craftsmanship and comfort.
Generative AI (Gemini / Google DeepMind). Concept: Eduardo Souza / ArchDaily
Once synonymous with monotony, “prefabricated” buildings often bring to mind the gray, repetitive housing blocks of the postwar era. But that image no longer fits today’s reality. Powered by digital design, robotics, and advanced materials, prefabrication has evolved into a language of innovation and precision. Far from uniform, it now enables flexible, efficient, and sustainable spaces that reflect the individuality of contemporary architecture.
Terraco, a global leader in Exterior Insulation Finishing Systems, has demonstrated through independent studies that when planning building renovations, it is essential to adopt a deep retrofit strategy that includes energy-efficient measures, such as thermal insulation of external walls and roofs.
The studies show that cooling energy use in buildings can be reduced by up to 47% annually in Middle Eastern and South Asian climates, directly as a result of installing the combined Terraco EIFS and Roof Insulation Finishing Systems, compared to leaving external walls and roofs uninsulated.
Greece's built environment is shaped by the coexistence of multiple architectural layers, where historic structures, modern interventions, and evolving urban systems intersect. Classical landmarks and their surrounding urban fabrics continue to inform the spatial character of cities, while postwar developments, infrastructural upgrades, and contemporary projects add new dimensions to the country's architectural landscape. This continuity between past and present provides the foundation for current design approaches, which increasingly focus on balancing heritage, environmental considerations, and contemporary urban needs.
UNS has revealed images of SeoulOne, a master plan designed for Hyundai Development Company (HDC) in Seoul, South Korea, intended as a new model for multigenerational living. The project, already under construction on a brownfield site in the northeast of the city, reimagines an existing industrial site and railway area as a 405,000 m² car-free neighborhood for a multigenerational community. A never-sleeping, green master plan for Seoul, SeoulOne is envisioned as a mixed-use mini-city where all essential services for people of all ages are available within a 10-minute walk. The design includes 24/7 residential towers, retail spaces, offices, a hotel, sports facilities, daycare centers, senior living facilities, and a medical center, offering permanent services within walking distance. More than 30% of the site is dedicated to vegetation, including pocket parks, roof gardens, water gardens, and a forest walk, creating a year-round green village.
From the pavilions of Osaka and Venice, to the roundtables of Belém, another year comes to a close. December invites us to pause and look back at the moments that defined architecture and cities in 2025. Reflection is not only an act of memory, but of foresight — a way to understand where we've been in order to imagine where we might go next. From shifting cultural narratives to material and technological breakthroughs, this past year underscored the importance of experimentation and adaptation across the built environment.
This month, ArchDaily explores the Year in Review, gathering the year's most compelling stories, ideas, and voices. The coverage revisits the projects, interviews, and essays that shaped the conversation, while recognizing the architects and thinkers who left a lasting impact on the discipline. It also looks ahead, identifying the most anticipated projects and issues of 2026, and the emerging directions they suggest.
Collective housing remains one of the most active areas for unbuilt architectural exploration, revealing how architects are rethinking domestic life, density, and shared living across different cultural and environmental contexts. In this curated Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected proposals investigate new forms of dwelling that span mobile units, vertical developments, adaptive reuse, and landscape-driven residential clusters. Rather than treating housing as a purely functional container, these projects position it as a social and spatial framework that shapes everyday life, community ties, and long-term urban resilience.
Across varied geographies, from Tirana and Athens to Monterrey, Chaloos, Roatán, Bhola, and the DRC, these proposals explore multiple approaches to collective living: transforming industrial shells into residential structures, extending existing masterplans through landscape integration, reimagining verticality in dense urban centers, and developing modular prototypes that can adapt to changing climates or patterns of mobility. Some projects prioritize ecological strategies and local materials, while others test new models for accessibility, community well-being, or incremental urban growth. Together, they reflect a broad spectrum of architectural responses to contemporary housing pressures.
Every city carries, woven into its fabric, fissures that resist capture: ruins, vacant lots, leftover infrastructures, and gaps that persist at the margins of the official narrative. These are places that slip through the logics of planning, emerging as unexpected counter-scenes within a territory that seeks to present itself as coherent.
In the rush to organize and predict, we rarely pause to notice what emerges from such unforeseen conditions. Yet it is precisely in them that new forms of urban life begin to take shape. Free from pragmatic control or predetermined codes of conduct, these spaces reveal another layer of the city — one that, in its continual state of latency, opens room for new modes of appropriation.
Jakarta has become the world's most populous city, according to the World Urbanization Prospects 2025 released by the United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs (UN DESA). Using an updated and harmonized method for defining urban areas, the report estimates Jakarta's population at nearly 42 million, placing it ahead of Dhaka, which is about 40 million, and Tokyo, 33 million. The revised ranking illustrates how updated measurement criteria and continued demographic growth are reshaping understandings of urban scale in Asia and globally.
MVRDV and SYNRG have received approval to construct Schieblocks, a 47,000-square-metre office building in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. Designed for developer LSI, who markets the project as The Bluezone Offices, the building will occupy a narrow site along the railway line, reaching 61 metres in height and extending almost 150 metres in length. The programme includes commercial spaces at ground level, offices throughout, and a restaurant and event venue on the upper floors. Conceived as a "3D neighbourhood," the design breaks the large volume into a series of colourful, distinct blocks that incorporate numerous references to Rotterdam's architectural character.
What defines a space first when entering: the sound or the visual impression? Architecture is often communicated through structure and surfaces, yet one of its most essential components moves unseen through the air: sound. It shapes how a space feels long before a wall or ceiling is noticed. Computational design brings these dimensions together, allowing architects and designers to create unique structures where acoustics and aesthetics inform one another rather than exist in parallel. By leveraging advanced algorithms, complex design processes transform into intuitive, accessible solutions that shape bespoke acoustic and visual highlights for every project. This approach combines parametric logic with material innovation, balancing efficiency, sustainability, and expressive design in equal measure.
Architectural ornamentation has been a recurrent subject of debate across the industry for decades. A practice that was largely abandoned during the Modernist movement could now be standing on a platform that might, again, allow its resurgence, due to the current convergence of robotics, artificial intelligence (AI), and digital fabrication. Technology has seemingly removed the primary obstacle to decorative detail: the high cost of skilled manual labor. However, this new technical capacity demands a critical examination: What does ornamentation truly represent, and what do we gain or lose by resurrecting it through algorithmic design?
What does optimism feel like in cities that can no longer rely on perfection as their ultimate ambition? Across the world, urban environments bear the weight of overlapping pressures: climate volatility, spatial inequality, political fragmentation, public distrust, and chronic infrastructural disinvestment. These realities render the idea of an ideal city increasingly detached from lived experience. Yet the hope for building better systems persists. While utopian visions may seem like an escape from the growing complexities of the modern world, the greater challenge for contemporary city-making is to confront those complexities rather than avoid them.
The municipality of Cunha, located in the state of São Paulo, Brazil, is a region known for its inland landscape, hilly terrain, and, especially, a major production of nationally renowned ceramics. It is within this context that the office messina | rivas has been working since 2017, with a set of projects located on a farm. Their work, which integrates design and construction in an indissociable manner, results in interventions that reveal a sensitive approach to pre-existing conditions and their surrounding environment.
The relationship between the office, led by architects Francisco Rivas and Rodrigo Messina, and the site began with a small renovation of a guest house for hosting friends. The project resulted in the transformation of two existing bedrooms into suites and the creation of an external kitchen. Since then, growing demands and the need to adapt existing buildings have driven the design of other projects distributed across the same site.
Robert A.M. Stern, the American architect, educator, and historian whose work shaped both the physical and intellectual landscape of contemporary architecture, has died at the age of 86. His passing was confirmed by Robert A.M. Stern Architects (RAMSA), the New York-based practice he led for more than five decades. Known for advancing a contextual, historically informed approach during decades dominated by modernist and high-tech architecture, Stern remained a prominent voice advocating for continuity, urban civility, and an understanding of architecture as part of a longer cultural lineage.
On November 20, 2025, the Mississippi Museum of Art (MMA) confirmed the purchase of Fountainhead, a house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1948 and completed in 1954. The renowned modernist architect designed the residence and its furnishings for oil businessman J. Willis Hughes, who lived there with his family until 1980. Established in 1911, the MMA is the largest art museum in the state of Mississippi, offering exhibitions, public programs, artistic and community partnerships, educational initiatives, and opportunities for exchange year-round through a permanent collection of paintings, photography, multimedia works, and sculpture. The purchase is part of the Museum's goal to embed itself in neighborhoods across the city in ways that support its community-building priorities, making the architectural landmark available to the public for tours with reservations. The initiative is inspired by institutions such as the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, which acquired the Wright-designed Bachman-Wilson House in 2015.
Across India's varied geographies, from coastal backwaters to desert fortress cities, architecture evolved with a deep, instinctive connection to climate. These were not isolated craft traditions but complete ecological systems in which material cycles, thermal comfort, and community knowledge were interdependent. As COP30 turns global attention toward the links between heritage and climate resilience, India's vernacular practices appear less as historical artifacts and more as climate technologies refined over centuries.
India's timber, lime, mud, and bamboo building traditions all share a common thread: they relied on local materials, passive cooling, and construction systems designed to be repaired, renewed, and reused. In an era dominated by cement, steel, and demolition-driven redevelopment, these earlier material cultures demonstrate a quiet circularity that feels radical again.
