Brick is one of Colombia's most widely used materials, helping its local architecture stand out globally. This is due to the excellent quality of the clay found in several regions of the country. In addition to cladding most of the buildings that define Bogota's urban landscape, the material is used in all its forms, from adobe to floor tiles in rural homes.
Relatively close to the capital are the iconic artisanal brickworks that have supplied the materials defining Colombian architectural trends, as was the practice of architect Herbert Baresch, who even had custom brick formwork designed for his concrete columns, and whose adobe bricks were manufactured by local artisans directly on the construction sites. This material seems destined never to become obsolete; on the contrary, technological advancements continue to reveal new methods of application. Below are 12 examples of houses that employ it as an exposed surface.
Mexican sculptor Pedro Reyes has developed a multidisciplinary practice that spans sculpture, architecture, social engagement, and activism. Trained as an architect, Reyes approaches sculpture as both a material and a collective process, combining traditional stone carving with participatory projects that address contemporary social issues. His work frequently explores transformation, whether through physical materials or community action, positioning sculpture as a tool for reimagining social realities. In a 2025 interview with Louisiana Channel, Reyes discusses the influence of architecture on his artistic practice, the concept of "social sculpture," and the importance of preserving craft traditions in an increasingly automated world.
The construction of the William and Charlotte Bloomberg Public Science Common, the new venue at Boston's Museum of Science, one of the United States' oldest science institutions, is nearing completion. The 929 m² (10,000-square-foot) building, designed by William Rawn Associates, Architects, Inc., is expected to open to the public on October 10, 2026, followed by a celebratory event on October 28. The new glazed civic venue overlooks the Charles River with views of the Boston skyline, and features movable walls and retractable seating to shift between functions and programs. The space is designed to support public dialogue around the sciences, using immersive media, production, and livestreaming technology to reach audiences beyond the city.
When African countries gained independence from European colonial rule during the mid-twentieth century, nation-building involved more than establishing new governments and political institutions. Newly sovereign states also needed to establish a built identity that could distinguish them from their colonial past, and architecture became an important tool in this process. Across the continent, monumental civic buildings, universities, conference centers, and cultural institutions were commissioned to embody progress and national unity. Yet this created a fundamental contradiction: many of these buildings adopted modernist and Brutalist architectural languages that had originated in Europe, while some were even designed by architects from former colonial powers. The Maison du Peuple in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, provides a particularly revealing example of how an architectural language associated with Europe could be appropriated and transformed into an expression of postcolonial independence.
In many Asian cities, eating has never belonged entirely to the private home. It spills into markets, hawker centers, street stalls, and wholesale districts embedded within larger buildings or areas. These are places where the city exchanges information and watches other people pass through. They are not restaurants in the conventional sense, nor are they simply markets. In some way, their vibrancy and usage reflect the society's conditions at that moment. They are public kitchens: shared infrastructures where domestic routines are partially transferred into collective space.
Hong Kong's Municipal Services Buildings and curbside dining are where food is understood not only as culture, but as urban organization. The cooked-food center in the city folds eating into a larger civic machine of wet markets, libraries, and sports halls. The dai pai dong and street-side table, meanwhile, transform the curb into a temporary dining room. Looking beyond Hong Kong, similar questions emerge across the region. How do cities make room for social eating? Where does cooking happen when domestic space is limited? What kind of architecture supports the mess and heat of everyday food?
This week's stories explore how architecture engages with questions of culture, access, and collective life, from new cultural institutions and exhibitions to public spaces and housing. This week, the 2026 NCARB by the Numbers report provided a broader perspective on the profession itself, showing that people of color accounted for 49% of licensure candidates in 2025 and women for 47%, compared with 21% and 28% among the overall architect population. The report offers one perspective on access within the profession, while projects and cultural initiatives further examine how architecture responds to different forms of public and collective life.
Baku Expo City masterplan, ZHA, 2026. Image Courtesy of ZHA
ZHA has been selected to design a new 198-hectare urban district in Baku, Azerbaijan. The project surrounds the existing Baku Expo Center events venue in a pine forest area that is planned to be preserved. The plan responds to the city's population growth over the past decade with a masterplan to organize the provision of a wide variety of residences. This is the firm's second project in Baku, after the Heydar Aliyev Center cultural venue, completed in 2013. On a different scale, the buildings in the new district appear to follow the geometric style inherited from Zaha Hadid, in a series of white buildings with rounded edges that convey an idea of fluid architecture.
The Pyramid of Tirana opened as a museum to Enver Hoxha in October 1988, three years after his death and three years before the regime collapsed. In the decades that followed, it served as a radio station, a conference venue, a nightclub, and a base for NATO during the Kosovo war. In 2023, MVRDV reopened it as a park and technology school, adding steps to the façades so that the building could be walked over. The inauguration was timed to the Western Balkans Summit on 16 October, a date that some critics pointed out was Hoxha's birthday. Two projects of national self-definition, thirty-five years apart and built on opposite political premises, have used the same structure.
Architectural prototypes are often used to test decisions before construction begins. But in some practices, prototyping begins while those decisions are still taking shape. Moving an idea from drawing into matter introduces questions that depend on making itself: how a material can be cut or joined, how much a piece weighs, how an assembly comes together, whether parts can be reused, or even what form the project should take.
TAKK, salazarsequeromedina, and Ensamble Studio each make physical experimentation part of their design process, but they ask different things of it. For TAKK, prototypes help test how materials and components come together as a construction system. For salazarsequeromedina, models and built systems remain open to dismantling, recombination, and later uses. Ensamble Studio uses physical experiments to generate geometry and construction knowledge that can move into engineering and full-scale building. What distinguishes these approaches is not simply that they prototype, but what each practice expects to learn through the prototype.
Between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, traveling through Rome, Paris, Venice, Florence, and other European cities was considered an essential part of a newly graduated architect's education. At a time when access to photographs and publications was extremely limited, these trips were the primary way to experience architecture up close. In the early twentieth century, Le Corbusier reinterpreted this tradition in his own way: at 23, he embarked on the Voyage d'Orient, passing through the Balkans, Istanbul, and Athens, producing travel notebooks he would return to throughout his life.
The National Council of Architectural Registration Boards (NCARB) has released the 2026 edition of its annual NCARB by the Numbers report, presenting data from 2025 on architectural licensure and demographics in the United States. The latest figures show a gradual increase in diversity among those pursuing licensure, while the demographic composition of the licensed architect population remains considerably less diverse than the current candidate pool. The report also examines attrition along the path to licensure, revealing differences in who ultimately reaches professional registration.
The Ukrainian pavilion at the 20th International Architecture Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia is being designed by the team from CO-HATY, a local volunteer initiative restoring abandoned buildings in the country to transform them into stable homes for internally displaced people. The team is formed by METALAB and relocated members of the Ukrainian Urban Curators agency, who have been developing CO-HATY since 2022. Titled "Pool of Questions," the project poses a question the organization argues is rarely voiced in the context of survival: not simply where displaced people should live, but when they can begin to live. For Venice, the imagined installation extends the restoration and adaptive reuse work into a discourse on affordable housing, dignity and rest during an ongoing war.
Argentina's vast territory reveals multiple ways of building shaped by its geographic, climatic, and cultural diversity. When designing single-family homes in Córdoba, Mendoza, Santa Fe, and Buenos Aires, numerous young Argentine architecture firms respond to distinct material, landscape, and cultural conditions by working with the resources, construction systems, and crafts available in each area. The house becomes a means of interpreting its context, engaging with local traditions, and incorporating new approaches to architectural production.
As the setting for everyday life, the house is part of an ongoing experience, acting as a complex and subtle organism that responds not only to its inhabitants' way of life but also to the landscapes in which it is situated. After presenting different perspectives and definitions by figures such as Le Corbusier, Ernesto Rogers, and Lewis Mumford, Argentine architect Eduardo Sacriste emphasizes in his book Qué es la casa its role as a reflection of the past, sharing the present and illuminating the future.
Across the Gulf, Bedouin heritage often enters architecture first as an image. Airport terminals recall tent silhouettes, visitor centres incorporate woven screens, and pavilions reinterpret traditional textiles as decorative façades. These references have become a familiar visual language for expressing regional identity. They also risk reducing one of the world's most sophisticated vernacular building traditions to an architectural motif. Long before the Bedouin tent became a cultural symbol, it was an environmental technology: a lightweight, adaptable structure capable of creating comfort in one of the planet's most demanding climates. What contemporary infrastructure may inherit is not the tent's silhouette, but the construction intelligence woven into it.
OMA, led by Partner Jason Long, together with San Francisco-based Y.A. Studio, has completed 730 Stanyan, a mixed-use affordable housing development in San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury neighborhood. Developed by the Tenderloin Neighborhood Development Corporation (TNDC) and Chinatown Community Development Center (CCDC), the project provides 160 permanently affordable homes for low-income families, formerly unhoused families, and Transitional Age Youth (TAY). Located at the intersection of Haight and Stanyan Streets, adjacent to the entrance of Golden Gate Park, the development marks OMA's first completed 100% affordable housing project in the United States.
Norman Jaffe, Krieger House , Montauk, New York, 1975. Black and white photograph, 9 x 12 in. Courtesy Norman Jaffe Archives. Photo: Bill Maris. From the 2026 grant to Wandering Eye Studios for the film "Vanishing Point: An Architect’s Journey". Image Courtesy of The Graham Foundation
Since 1956, the Graham Foundation for Advanced Studies in the Fine Arts has fostered the development and exchange of ideas about architecture and its role in the arts, culture, and society. It awards project-based grants to individuals and organizations each year, and hosts public exhibitions and lectures. In June, the foundation announced the recipients of its 2026 Grants to Individuals program, awarding 54 projects that investigate architecture through exhibitions, films, publications, and research initiatives. In a second round announced this week, the organization has allocated funding to projects run by organizations with the same objective: expanding architectural discourse through diverse materials and cultural media.
ArchDaily is looking for an Expert Contributor to join our Sponsored Content team. In this role, you will create editorial content exploring architectural products, materials, projects, and ideas while maintaining the design-focused perspective and editorial standards that define ArchDaily.
This role requires a strong understanding of architecture and design, experience with branded or sponsored content, and the ability to communicate complex ideas in a clear, engaging, and professional manner. Sponsored content at ArchDaily is brand-funded writing created with partners that presents products, projects, and ideas in ArchDaily's editorial voice, with the aim of informing, inspiring, and engaging readers.
https://www.archdaily.com/1038256/open-call-for-expert-contributors-at-archdailyArchDaily Team
"Architecture that holds multitudes." This is the phrase Studio NEiDA uses to introduce itself, making its position toward the world clear: to listen to and respect the plurality of existences that move through each context. More than a statement of principles, the phrase seems to function as a method. What does it mean, after all, to design spaces capable of sheltering not only people, but also memories, knowledge, and conflicts?
There is no denying that Studio NEiDA's plural approach is, in part, rooted in its own geographical position. Working between Togo and Germany, the practice operates across two seemingly distinct contexts that are nevertheless historically connected. In a recent interview, Jeanne Autran-Edorh, the French-Togolese architect and co-founder of the studio, alongside the curator and writer Fabiola Büchele, recalls the history between the two countries, noting that, as few people know, before becoming an independent republic, Togo was a German colony that later came under French rule.
The ceiling is one of the largest continuous surfaces in a space, yet why is it rarely the first architectural element people notice? Often perceived as the plane that conceals structure and building services, it quietly recedes into the background while facades, materials, structural systems, and furniture define a building's architectural identity. Yet few architectural elements influence the experience of a space as consistently as this one. The ceiling shapes how sound travels, how light is reflected, how air moves through a room, and ultimately how architecture is experienced, bringing together technical performance and architectural expression through a single continuous surface.
Danish architectural theorist Steen Eiler Rasmussen observed in his book Experiencing Architecture that ceilings shape the character of a room through rhythm, proportion, light, and atmosphere. Rather than simply enclosing space, they help organize it, defining areas and guiding movement without the need for additional walls. As buildings became larger, more open, and more dependent on integrated building services, architecture began asking more of this overlooked surface. The ceiling gradually shifted from a concealed building component into an active architectural system in which acoustics, lighting, ventilation, thermal comfort, and technical infrastructure could converge on a single plane.
In the heart of Ahmedabad's Navrangpura district in India sits the Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel Stadium. More than just a cricket ground, the stadium stands as one of India's earliest experiments in modernist public architecture. Built in the decades following the country's independence, the structure has not only become an engineering landmark, but also a major public space within Ahmedabad's urban fabric. Despite the building's architectural and historical significance, as well as its deep involvement in daily community life, it has suffered significant physical degradation as a result of decades of poor maintenance and lack of funding. That fragility is precisely why it has drawn international attention. In 2020, the World Monuments Fund (WMF) placed the Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel Stadium on its World Monuments Watch, a global list highlighting cultural heritage sites facing urgent preservation challenges.
Architecture in Brazil this month highlights the country's diverse approaches to cultural production, heritage, and the transformation of its built environment. From the curatorial formation of the 15th São Paulo International Architecture Biennial to the recognition of Amazonia Theaters on the UNESCO World Heritage List, recent developments bring questions of representation, preservation, and cultural identity into focus. New projects in Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo, and Rondônia meanwhile explore adaptive reuse, relationships between architecture and landscape, and new approaches to materiality and sustainability. Alongside these developments, ongoing discussions surrounding Fordlândia and the archive of Lucio Costa revisit how Brazil's architectural heritage is preserved, interpreted, and understood today.
From 25 July to 25 October 2026, Shanghai's Power Station of Art (PSA) will host the first exhibition in China dedicated to the work of Brazilian architect Lina Bo Bardi. Titled "The Poetics of Survival," the exhibition was curated by Renato Anelli, and the display was designed by OPEN Architecture in a 2,300 m² space of the PSA contemporary art museum in Huangpu. The objective was to design "a stage where the audience gets a glimpse of the everyday reality of Brazil in Lina's time" through a journey across the architect's work and layered persona. The exhibition is not described as a retrospective, but as an "encounter with the master's poetics of survival," a late-20th-century concept describing how creative work becomes a tool to endure trauma such as historical oppression or extreme crisis. The concept serves as a common thread linking the reality portrayed and contemporary observers of a body of work "informed by her ingenuity, versatility, and generosity."
There has never been a more celebrated moment for craftsmanship in architecture. Across magazines, awards, and international exhibitions, handmade brick, lime plaster, carved stone, woven bamboo, and rammed earth have re-emerged as symbols of environmental responsibility, cultural continuity, and architectural authenticity. Beyond these carefully documented projects lies another reality. The overwhelming majority of buildings constructed today, from apartment blocks and office towers to public housing and commercial developments, continue to rely on industrialized systems that leave little room for skilled artisans. Craft has become increasingly visible at the very moment it has become increasingly uncommon. In countries such as India, the contrast is difficult to ignore. Centuries-old building traditions continue alongside one of the world's fastest-growing construction industries. To reframe the question of why craftsmanship is returning, perhaps the intrigue is why it now appears primarily where construction budgets, timelines, and clients can afford it.