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.
All architecture is grounded in the earth. This pliant, resilient raw material is the origin of extruded ceramic tiles—clay transformed from its natural state into an architectural solution without relinquishing any of its authenticity. Exagres' work is rooted in this natural material, carefully transforming the clay with skillful precision and guiding it on this journey rather than forcing it.
Finding the right tools to represent a project idea or carry out a construction job remains an ongoing challenge for architecture and design professionals. While software for drafting, 3D modeling, and calculations has increased precision and efficiency, many architects continue using legacy tools learned in academia or practice—tools that feel familiar, but don't necessarily offer the best design experience. From overloaded interfaces and clunky workflows to endless plug-ins and constant back-and-forth between disconnected software, traditional design tools often reveal their complexity and fragmentation.
Zhu Pei is a Chinese architect born in 1962 in Beijing. He studied at Tsinghua University and UC Berkeley, and founded Studio Zhu Pei in 2005. The studio's experimental work and research focus on contemporary architecture, art, and cultural projects. With an artistic and exploratory approach, it investigates the relationship between the roots that anchor architecture in specific natural and cultural contexts and the innovation that drives architecture as a form of artistic revolution. In his interview with Louisiana Channel, Zhu Pei describes architecture as an artistic discipline that, like poetry, relies on openness, imagination, and the creation of new experiences. He argues that great architecture goes beyond functional problem-solving by generating a sense of wonder through its ability to "invent" and "create some new thing, new experience," positioning architectural practice as cultural and sensory exploration rather than purely technical production.
Athens stands as a city where the legacy of Antiquity is woven into its modern and vibrant urban landscape. World-renowned landmarks of Ancient Greece like the Acropolis and the Parthenon stand as enduring symbols of classical architecture and the city's storied past. These structures reflect the foundational principles of symmetry and balance that have influenced generations of architects and continue to attract scholars from around the world. Yet, Athens is also a thriving metropolis where contemporary architecture coexists with its historical counterparts. Recent developments, led by international firms and local architects, focus on sustainability and innovation while respecting Athens' rich cultural heritage. This duality—preserving the old while embracing the new—reflects Greece's broader urban aspirations, making Athens a focal point in global architectural discourse. The city's architectural evolution also extends to its contemporary architecture and interior design scene, which is gaining international recognition.
To celebrate this architectural evolution, this city guide features Athens's historical landmarks alongside ArchDaily's selection of projects focusing on contemporary architecture, and Designboom's curation of innovative interior designs. Together, they highlight Athens' role as a hub of design innovation.
In Vietnam, the tube house has almost become a vernacular form in densely populated cities like Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City. This typology originated from ancient façade taxes and as a strategic response to urban land scarcity and optimization of street frontage for commerce. Their traditional structure typically relies on the front façade for daylight and ventilation. People living there often face the challenge of designing in a space defined by the deep plots, limited street frontage, and close neighboring buildings, restricting natural light and airflow. To counter this fundamental lack of perimeter exposure, Vietnamese architects usually employ several strategies oriented towards internal environmental manipulation. This curated collection explores tube houses under 100 m2, where their small size increased the need for absolute spatial economy and the verticalization of function, which directly influenced design decisions across all projects.
