Every year brings new ideas, projects, and shifts in architectural culture, but it also marks the loss of voices that have shaped the discipline across decades. Architecture moves forward, but it also advances through absence. When figures who helped articulate its language and its ambitions disappear, they leave behind more than completed works or influential texts. Their absence becomes a threshold, a moment in which the discipline pauses to understand what remains, what evolves, and what continues to guide us. These moments of loss remind us that architecture is a long, collective construction, carried not only by those shaping the present but also by those whose visions continue to orient how we think about cities and landscapes.
The architects and thinkers we lost in 2025 came from remarkably different worlds, yet the questions that shaped their work often intersected. Some approached the city through identity, symbolism, and historical continuity, seeking to ground the built environment in cultural memory. Others interpreted it through engineering precision, ecological systems, or radical experimentation, expanding what architecture could be and how it could be experienced. Their work spans contexts as diverse as postwar Britain, rapidly urbanizing China, Central European avant-gardes, and the evolving cultural institutions of Berlin and New York. Together, they form a spectrum of responses that defined, and continue to define, architectural culture over the last half-century, revealing the multiplicity of ways in which architecture can engage with society, technology, and the environment.
Once confined to the aerospace and automotive industries, composite materials have taken on an increasingly central role in contemporary architecture. By combining two or more components, such as fibers and polymers, they offer lightness and strength, high durability, formal freedom, and enhanced environmental performance. Their incorporation into architectural practice marks a profound transformation in how we design, fabricate, and inhabit space.
As preparations advance for the Milano Cortina 2026Olympic Winter Games, set to take place from February 6 to 22, 2026, this edition introduces one of the most geographically wide-ranging configurations ever implemented for the Winter Olympics. Extending across two cities, two regions, and two autonomous provinces, the competitions will be staged over more than 22,000 square kilometres of Northern Italy. Metropolitan venues in Milan are paired with longstanding Alpine centres in Cortina d'Ampezzo, Livigno, Bormio, Anterselva, and Val di Fiemme, creating a framework that bridges urban and mountain contexts. More than 90 per cent of the venues are existing or temporary facilities, reflecting a strategy centred on adaptive reuse, selective upgrades, and long-term integration into regional sport and cultural infrastructures. Nearly 2,900 athletes will compete in 116 events, including the debut of ski mountaineering and several new mixed-gender formats that signal evolving approaches to winter sports programming.
Human Rights Day is observed annually on 10 December worldwide. It commemorates the anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. Drafted by representatives with diverse legal and cultural backgrounds from all regions, the Declaration was proclaimed as a common standard of achievement for all peoples and all nations. For the first time, the document set out fundamental human rights to be universally protected and inalienable, entitling every human being to them regardless of race, colour, religion, sex, language, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth, or any other status. Today, the Declaration serves as a global blueprint for international, national, and local laws and policies. Available in 577 languages, it is the most translated document in the world. The United Nations has set the theme for this year's observance as "Human Rights, Our Everyday Essentials," aiming to "reaffirm the values of human rights and show that they remain a winning proposition for humanity."
La Sagrada Familia by Antoni Gaudi. Image by Maksim Sokolov, via Wikimedia Commons, License CC BY-SA 4.0
As 2025 concludes, we look ahead to 2026, a year scheduled to deliver a diverse range of significant architectural projects across the world. The year is particularly notable for the completion of new infrastructure and cultural buildings, including long-term projects. Europe will be in the spotlight of the new year with the Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics. This event will feature projects such as the Olympic Village by SOM and the Winter Olympics Arena by David Chipperfield Architects. Also in Milan, BIG is set to complete construction of the City Wave project as part of a new business district in the city. At the same time, after more than 140 years of its establishment, the architects around the world will also be watching for the long-awaited completion of Antoni Gaudí's La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, announced for 2026.
The niche has been a space of visible intention throughout the history of architecture. In ancient Roman architecture, it served as a formal device carved into masonry to display statues, vases, or other objects. These recesses animated the walls of temples, bath complexes, and civic buildings, adding rhythm, depth, and focal points to otherwise massive structures. The interior spaces of the Pantheon framed statues of gods, and the Baths of Caracalla used similar voids to structure expansive halls. By the Renaissance, the niche evolved into a refined architectural frame. In Florence, the external cavities of Orsanmichele held guild-commissioned statues, while the Uffizi Palace's recesses displayed sculptural works. Whether filled or intentionally left empty, these openings articulated internal and external walls and facades, introduced hierarchy, and provided visual interest, serving as deliberate gestures meant to be seen.
Architecture has always played a key role in providing shelter and protection for human beings. In prehistoric times, we sought refuge in caves, taking advantage of rock structures for protection against the natural elements and predators. Over time, shelters began to be made from materials found in nature, such as branches, leaves, and animal skins, evolving into more permanent and complex homes, with walls made of stone, bricks or wood, roofs to protect against rain and sun, and doors to control access. As we developed more advanced building skills, we used materials such as wood, stone, and clay and architecture evolved significantly, with the construction of temples, palaces, and fortifications that provided not only shelter but also symbolized power, status, and cultural identity. Even so, our buildings can continue to be seen as shells that protect us from the outside world.
From the massive stones of Greek temples to glazed skyscrapers, we work with a range of possibilities and thicknesses to separate what we consider internal and external. This article seeks to explore this diversity of thicknesses in architecture, from simple materials to complex construction techniques, highlighting how this variation not only provides protection but also influences our perception and interaction with the built environment.
https://www.archdaily.com/1014920/from-thin-veils-to-thick-barriers-exploring-different-widths-in-architectural-envelopesJosé Tomás Franco and Eduardo Souza
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The Basic Services Unit, a full-scale housing prototype by ELEMENTAL and Holcim, presented in Venice during the 2025 Architecture Biennale. Image Courtesy of Holcim Awards
During the Time Space Existence exhibition, organized by the European Cultural Centre in Venice, the building-solutions company Holcim and Pritzker Prize-winning architect Alejandro Aravena, with his firm ELEMENTAL, unveiled a full-scale prototype that introduces a new approach in incremental housing solutions.
The housing prototype—The Basic Services Unit—was built with Hoclim's recently launched biochar technology, which transforms buildings into carbon sinks by permanently trapping carbon in a bio-based material called biochar. This material is used as a component of low-carbon concrete, cement, and mortars.
Narikala Fortress (Earliest parts dates back from 4th century), Tbilisi, Georgia. Image Courtesy of National Archives of Georgia
Ubani — Tbilisi Cityscape Research Center has released "Kala," the first publication in its new Guide to Tbilisi Districts series, offering an in-depth look at one of the Georgian capital's oldest urban areas. As a non-profit organization dedicated to researching and promoting Tbilisi's architectural heritage and landscape, Ubani develops public programs, exhibitions, workshops, and events aimed at making the city's built environment more widely understood. This inaugural guidebook continues that broader mission, situating Kala within the long-term evolution of Tbilisi's urban fabric.
The European Capital of Culture (ECoC) initiative was launched in 1985 and has, to date, been awarded to more than 60 cities across Europe. It is designed to celebrate and promote cultural diversity on the continent, strengthen European citizens' sense of belonging to a shared cultural space, and foster culture's contribution to urban development. In practice, the designation has proven to be a catalyst for urban regeneration, tourism growth, the strengthening of cities' international profiles, and the improvement of how they are perceived by their own residents. European Capitals of Culture are formally designated four years before the title year, allowing time to plan, prepare, and embed the program within a long-term cultural strategy, establish European partnerships, and ensure that appropriate infrastructure is in place. In 2025, the European Capitals of Culture are the German city of Chemnitz and the Slovenian city of Nova Gorica. For 2026, the designated cities are Oulu in Finland and Trenčín in Slovakia.
As 2025 approaches its end, we look back at an eventful year in the world of interior design. Last year, designers favored reserved, modest approaches, a trend that continued from previous years. The emergence of artificial intelligence generated intense discussions on digital equity and misinformation, which continued into 2025, especially with the topic of the Venice Architecture Biennale, Intelligens. This opened the conversation to the opportunities of digital technologies, attempting a more hopeful outlook. On the other hand, completed interior design projects over the year focused more on the tangible and the pragmatic, with expressed raw materials and an appreciation of history.
Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan and one of the oldest cities in Central Asia, has long been shaped by a hybrid culture. Located at a strategic point along the Silk Road, the city developed an architectural tradition defined by inner courtyards, domes, decorative ceramics, and Islamic geometric patterns. The annexation by the Russian Empire in the 19th century introduced administrative buildings, orthogonal squares, and straight avenues, creating a dual urban fabric — between the “old” Eastern city and the “new” European one — in which contrasts and overlaps became the norm.
During the Soviet period, when Tashkent became the capital of the Uzbek Soviet Socialist Republic and received intense migration from across the union, the city was transformed into a modernist showcase. The coexistence between Islamic heritage and the ideology of socialist progress found a new inflection point with the 1966 earthquake, whose destruction triggered a large-scale reconstruction effort involving architects from across the USSR. Massive housing complexes, cultural institutions, and monumental buildings emerged, reinterpreting local motifs through ideological and technological language. It was in this context that the Palace of Peoples’ Friendship took shape.
How does the construction sector shape the future of cities? What challenges does it face? At the crossroads of demographic, social, energy, and climate pressures, the construction sector is changing fast. Professionals, institutions, and citizens are working together to build environments that improve health and well-being, encourages durable and place-responsive solutions, cut carbon emissions, withstand climate risks, and provide affordable, high-quality housing.
Following the news of Frank Gehry's passing at age 96, renewed attention has been directed toward a career that significantly shaped architectural discourse from the late 20th century onward. Over more than seven decades, Gehry developed a design language defined by material experimentation, iterative model-making, and an interest in fluid, expressive forms. His work ranges from early residential interventions in Southern California to major cultural institutions that have contributed to the identity of cities around the world. Together, these projects outline a trajectory that intersected with shifts in fabrication technologies, museum typologies, and urban redevelopment strategies.
Specificity has re-emerged as a central language in architectural discourse. In an increasingly globalized field, where projects often follow familiar models regardless of context, architects are now turning toward approaches rooted in the particularities of each site. This renewed attention to context reflects broader social, climatic, and political pressures: cities are facing extreme heat, ecological challenges, shifting demographics, and new forms of collective life that demand responses grounded in their immediate conditions.
Situated architecture describes this shift. It refers to design approaches in which form, program, and materiality emerge from the specific environment that produces them: its microclimates, cultural structures, and everyday rituals. Rather than beginning with universal templates, these practices start with observation, prototyping, and direct engagement with local dynamics. This logic is visible in the climatic and material experiments of TAKK in Spain, such as Portable Garden and 10k House, which operate as lightweight prototypes tuned to thermal and ecological gradients; in Studio Ossidiana's Art Pavilion M, shaped by layered soils and ecological cycles in the Netherlands; in Izaskun Chinchilla's reinterpretations of vernacular objects and her later experiments with 100 Sillas and 3 Salones Urbanos; in the narrative-driven domestic spaces explored by Common Accounts; and in Raumlabor's urban interventions that respond directly to the specificities of post-industrial Berlin.
The fragility—and temporal beauty—of neon has captivated audiences since the early 1900s. First shown commercially by French engineer Georges Claude at the 1910 Paris Motor Show, neon spread rapidly, achieving broad popularity in the United States from the 1920s through the 1950s. Mid-century America saw it everywhere: from the casinos of the Las Vegas Strip to roadside motor inns along Route 66 and the spectacle of Times Square. By the latter half of the century, however, many signs were scrapped or left to decay, and numerous municipalities restricted neon as visually garish or power-hungry—despite the technology's comparatively modest energy use. In the U.S., renewed interest in neon arguably didn't meaningfully return until the early 2000s.
In Hong Kong, by contrast, neon was embraced with unusual enthusiasm at a time when it began to lose popularity elsewhere. Even as installation slowed in recent decades—largely due to updated ordinances requiring removal of overhanging signs whose support structures failed to meet safety standards—the city's affinity for neon never fully disappeared.
Between the Andes, the coast, and the Amazon, Ecuador's architecture has evolved as a reflection of its layered geography, a place where climate, topography, and culture unite. Throughout the territory, architecture has been an act of adaptation: from vernacular traditions rooted in collective labor and local materials to the colonial and modernist influences that reshaped its cities. This diversity has produced distinct constructive systems, from bamboo and cane structures along the coast to earth and stone constructions in the Andes, forming an archive of adaptive design that continues to influence contemporary practice.
Yet in the past decade, Ecuadorian architecture has undergone a quiet but deep transformation. New academic programs and international references have encouraged a growing awareness of climate and social justice. Emerging architects are redefining practice through workshops, collective studios, and on-site experimentation that blurs the line between design and activism. No longer focused on architecture as an object, a new generation of architects is approaching design as a process. One focused on collaboration, sustainability, and cultural identity. Their questions have shifted the design language from what to build to with whom.
Frank Gehry, one of the most influential and widely recognized architects of the past six decades, has died at his home in Santa Monica at the age of 96. His chief of staff, Meaghan Lloyd, confirmed that the cause was a brief respiratory illness. Gehry's death marks the passing of a designer whose work transformed not only architectural culture but the global imagination of what a building could be.
For the past couple of years, the project curators at ArchDaily have been revisiting architectural works they believe deserve a deeper look. Through an Instagram post called "Project Review", the curators describe what they consider to be the work's main attribute(s). Delving into the project's stories and the elements that make them truly inspiring, they underline what might otherwise be overlooked initiatives and study them closely, with attention to locality and context. The result is an array of diverse works, often from rural or suburban areas that have a public function or historic significance.
While a couple of houses are listed, the majority of the reviews veer towards cultural centers, libraries, workspaces, or commercial settings. Another thing to note is the fact that many of these works ended up coming in from Asia, with a few key projects from rural China. The picks are quite diverse in materiality and design language; however, they all suggest innovative architectural solutions and captivating narratives.
Le Corbusier's Unité d'Habitation imagined a "vertical neighborhood," a building able to integrate housing, commerce, leisure, and collective spaces within a single structural organism. Around the same time, Jane Jacobs argued that diversity of use is what produces safety, identity, and social life at the street level. Later, Rem Koolhaas, in Delirious New York, described the skyscraper as an early experiment in "vertical urbanism," capable of stacking incompatible programs under one roof. In cities like Tokyo and Hong Kong, this ambition matured into complex hybrid buildings where different uses, such as transit hubs, retail, offices, hotels, and housing, coexist and interact continuously.
Color of the Year 2026 "Cloud Dancer". Image Courtesy of Pantone
PantoneColor Institute has introduced PANTONE 11-4201 Cloud Dancer as the Color of the Year 2026, a soft white selected for its understated presence and sense of visual calm. The hue, described as balanced and airy, appears against a broader cultural context in which designers and creatives are reassessing the role of clarity, simplicity, and spatial quietude. Framed as a color that resembles a blank canvas, Cloud Dancer signals a renewed interest in environments that support reflection and measured creativity rather than constant acceleration.
The State of Qatar announced on December 4, 2025, the selection of Frida Escobedo Studio, with Buro Happold engineers and Studio Zewde landscape designers, to design the new headquarters for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Intended to establish a more visible civic presence for the Qatari diplomatic service and provide public access to the Ministry complex, the project is planned for a prominent site along Doha's waterfront, transforming a significant section of the city's Corniche. Situated beside Doha Bay, the 70,000-square-meter (750,000-square-foot) project is conceived as a combination of new construction and the adaptive reuse of the historic modernist General Post Office currently on the site.
Courtesy of The Royal Commission for AlUla | Rana Haddad + Pascal Hachem Reveries, Desert X AlUla 2024
Architecture and design enter 2026 in a moment of renewed experimentation, urgent environmental reflection, and an expanded global dialogue on the built environment. As cities confront the pressures of climate adaptation, demographic shifts, and technological transformation, this year's international calendar offers a lens into how the discipline is responding, creatively, critically, and collectively. From long-standing biennials to newly established platforms, the events of 2026 spotlight architecture's evolving role as both a record of our changing world and a driver of more equitable, sustainable futures.
