As previously explained in an earlier article, the concept of modulation in architecture refers to adapting a design to a defined module, whether based on a specific baseline measurement or the dimensions of a given building material.
Closely linked to this concept, yet grounded in other definitions, modular construction relies on the study and planning of transportable prefabricated modules assembled on-site. Consequently, these structures are typically completed faster and more efficiently than traditional ones.
In this episode of the Caos Planejado podcast, the discussion explores alternatives for pedestrian mobility and the occupation of public spaces through tactical urbanism. The guest is Letícia Sabino, founder and director of SampaPé, an organization that has been working since 2012 to transform cities into more walkable environments alongside people.
Since the beginning of the pandemic, educator Camila Regina and cartographer Henrique Lima have noticed a significant increase in kites in the skies over Rio de Janeiro's peripheral neighborhoods. These colorful paper diamonds and deltoids are guided by the hands of children and adults who cannot leave their homes, but can go up to their rooftops to fly kites.
Inspired by this reclaiming of the skies and their own histories with kites, the two kite flyers founded Pipasgrafias, a multimedia project about the activity. Video, text, and illustrated stories—along with an interactive map—portray what it is like to fly a kite in Rio's various peripheral neighborhoods.
The 27th World Congress of Architects UIA2021RIO will be a hybrid event, featuring virtual sessions starting in March, and in-person activities from July 18 to 22 in Rio de Janeiro, broadcast live online to congress participants worldwide.
The first UIA2021RIO World Architects Week, featuring digital content, will take place from March 22 to 25. During this week, the content will be free to access; afterward, it will only be available to registered Congress participants. The theme chosen to open UIA2021RIO in March is one of the most pressing global concerns today: social vulnerabilities and inequalities.
Considered an intangible cultural heritage by the State Council of Culture (CEC) of Alagoas, the sururu is a mollusk whose harvesting is the main source of income for several communities in the state. Around the Mundaú lagoon alone, in Maceió, five communities living below the poverty line produce approximately 300 tons of sururu shells annually—a massive amount of waste that previously had no use and ended up in the Alagoas capital's landfills.
Recognizing its significant economic and social engagement potential, designers Marcelo Rosenbaum, Adriana Benguela, and Rodrigo Ambrósio developed the Cobogó da Mundaú project, which incorporates sururu harvesting waste into the manufacturing of architectural screen blocks.
In 1979, Rosalind Krauss published her classic article Sculpture in the Expanded Field in the journal October, in which she identifies a certain fraying of boundaries in the field of sculpture, “showing how the meaning of a cultural term can be extended to include almost anything” [1]. The critique, specifically directed at artistic work produced between the 1960s and 1970s, was used 26 years later, in 2005, as the foundation for the publication of Architecture’s Expanded Field by Anthony Vidler.
Currently, one of the most promising fields for design professionals is the planning of open, natural, and urbanized areas that shape the city’s landscape. The fragile balance of urban water systems and the social consequences of the global climate crisis are large-scale examples of how the lack of awareness regarding the importance of natural ecosystems impacts quality of life in cities. It is with this in mind that we must closely examine the role of landscape design and landscape architecture.
Anyone working as an urban planner or interested in urban issues has undoubtedly heard—extensively—about the "Smart Cities" movement. The premise is that there is nothing in cities that the use of data (especially "big data") or technology cannot solve. This has led to a series of claims about how we can address challenges as complex as housing, traffic, and inequality simply by creating more elaborate models based on big data or deploying new forms of technology.
Urban resilience was put to the test as the pandemic swept quickly and drastically through cities. Limiting movement, contact, and access to public spaces was the most effective strategy for containing the virus. However, the city's infrastructure, compounded by a lack of emergency public policies, proved far from resilient. This vulnerability was exposed as a large portion of the population was forced to continue commuting long distances on public transit to work in essential services, and as the physical and mental health of residents suffered from a lack of access to safe spaces for physical activity—underscoring the city's precarious supply of public spaces.
The winners of the 3rd Tomie Ohtake Institute Leroy Merlin Design Award have been announced. The award ceremony, which was originally scheduled to take place in person at the Tomie Ohtake Institute alongside the exhibition of the projects, was held virtually for invited guests due to the novel coronavirus pandemic.
A total of 15 projects were selected from 213 entries representing 20 Brazilian states and the Federal District.
Two months and eleven days after the start of 2020, the World Health Organization (WHO) declared Covid-19 a pandemic. To contain the spreading threat, citizens and authorities had to devise collective strategies and alter their behavior. This battle between virus and humanity also called into question the very existence and preservation of one of humanity's most important creations: cities.
As the symbol of an environment defined by casual encounters among different people and diverse experiences, those governing urban areas were challenged to convince—and, in some cases, force—their populations to stay home as the primary measure to contain transmission.
https://www.archdaily.com/1128408/can-the-pandemic-scenario-lead-to-walkable-citiesLeticia Sabino e Louise Uchôa
On March 8, 2021, Simone Cadinelli Arte Contemporânea will open the exhibition "Rubble, Skins, Residue" to the public, featuring new works by artist Jeane Terra. These pieces were created using various unique techniques and processes she has developed over the past few years—including during the months of social isolation—taking as a starting point the rubble of houses in Pontal de Atafona, a beach in the northern region of Rio de Janeiro state that is being swallowed by the sea. The exhibition will occupy the entire gallery. In addition to the "dry paintings"—or "paint skins," a process she created and has since patented—and the "dry monotypes," the show will bring together sculptures, photographs, an embroidery piece, and two installations: a wall excavation and a window display facing Rua Aníbal de Mendonça in Ipanema.
Amsterdam, Netherlands. Photo by Roman Kraft via Unsplash
Anyone interested in urban policy will likely, at some point, come across the term “compact city.” This expression has become a staple of urban planning. Proposals associated with the concept favor denser development, with commerce and services close to residential areas, encouraging pedestrian, bicycle, and public transit mobility. Some European capitals, such as Copenhagen and Amsterdam, are often pointed to as examples of this model. Its counterpart is the sprawling city, where neighborhoods are predominantly residential, far from downtown, and require long commutes from home to work.
New section of the Cosme Velho-Laranjeiras bike lane, Rio de Janeiro. Photo: Tânia Rêgo/Agência Brasil
Sprawling urban footprints, high temperatures, rugged terrain, and a lack of safety. What are the pathways to promoting cycling as a mobility alternative in Brazilian cities? To explore this topic further, Caos Planejado hosts Glaucia Pereira, founder of Multiplicidade Mobilidade Urbana and a director and member of Cidadeapé, and Rosa Félix, a bicycle mobility researcher at the U-Shift laboratory.
When we think of the residential designs of Italian architect Lina Bo Bardi, the immediate image that comes to mind is her private residence in São Paulo (1951)—more precisely, the image of its glazed social pavilion, captured from a low angle. This perspective further dramatizes the contrasting relationship between that light, suspended orthogonal volume and the steep natural slope of the terrain.
I would venture to say that no other work of Brazilian architecture is as well-known from a single photograph. This image, which has illustrated nearly every publication on the architect since the building's completion nearly 70 years ago, and which indeed justifies its famous moniker, the “Glass House,” exposes the unequivocal modern condition of this project—or, at least, the portion revealed by the angle of this celebrated photograph: a transparent, prismatic volume suspended on slender pillars set back from the edge of the floor slab and, consequently, free-standing within the elevated space.
.jpg?1614091577&format=webp&width=640&height=580)
.jpg?1614091577)
