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.
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?
The conversation around AI in architecture has shifted from hype to application. Architects and designers now want to understand how the intelligent use of AI-powered tools can drive innovation and create a competitive advantage. Yet, as curiosity and optimism grow, firms also face concerns about the ethical and legal questions surrounding AI adoption.
Architecture is being reshaped by artificial intelligence, climate change, and shifting social structures. At SCI-Arc, students learn to face these challenges head-on, using design to shape a rapidly changing world.
This fall, SCI-Arc's upper-level Vertical Studios bring the world into the studio. Each is led by a practicing architect working at the forefront of the field—from experimental fabrication to urban and environmental design. Drawing on real projects and professional experience, faculty challenge students to engage with the realities of the present and to design with precision, empathy, and imagination.
Nearly three years after artificial intelligence captured the world's attention, architecture is still searching for stable ground in the conversation. Between confident claims and cautious trials, many professionals still question whether—and how—AI is truly changing everyday practice.
A new white paper from Chaos addresses this through practitioner interviews and in-depth internal research, revealing how the technology is beginning to reshape productivity, authorship, and creative identity across the industry.
The white paper offers a closer look at where AI creates value, where it falls short, and how architects can navigate what comes next.
Architecture has entered a pivotal moment. As cities continue to grow under the weight of climatic and social pressures, the materials and systems that shape them are being redefined. Artificial intelligence and robotics, once used to accelerate construction processes, are now being rethought as tools for cultivation. Printed structures that grow, breathe, and decay. Cultivation, in this context, refers to designing with biological materials, where growth and decay are active parameters, merging digital precision with ecological intelligence. This evolution shows the shift from efficiency to empathy, where architecture becomes an agent of active repair. The introduction of mycelium and other natural materials into 3D printing presents a new paradigm in architecture: the logic of the living. A place where computation and fabrication meet biological adaptability.
AI and robotics, once associated with industrial efficiency, are now opening new ways of designing. Early examples, such as ICON's 3D-printed housing prototypes, focused on speed and automation but offered little response to their surroundings. Newer projects, such as the MycoMuseum at the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale, reinterpret these tools through a biological lens. Instead of shaping concrete, they cultivate living materials, marking a shift from pure optimization toward regeneration.
When architects are still students, a moment often marks a turning point: their first encounter with software. It's not just about learning a tool but discovering a space where ideas transcend physical models, taking shape in a digital environment and beginning a relationship many will carry throughout their careers. What happens next? Software keeps evolving, and with it, the design experience. In recent years, this evolution has accelerated—machine learning, AI, prompts, and integrated workflows have moved from the periphery to the core of design practice, becoming part of the shared language between software and users. As these tools take hold, a key question emerges: How will this reshape our experience of designing architecture in the future?
While a book or piece of music can be easily set aside if it doesn't capture our interest, architecture is different. A building endures for decades, and it shapes the landscape and influences the lives of its occupants for years to come. This permanence brings with it a unique set of challenges: architects must design spaces that impact collective life, often under tight deadlines, limited budgets, and significant pressure. In addition to navigating complex regulations and coordinating construction, architects face the misconception that design is simple, or that anyone could do it. The constant balancing act between quality, cost, and speed often leads to sacrifices — whether in time, health, or the integrity of the project itself. This cycle not only wears down the profession but diminishes society's understanding of the true value of design.
The well-known "good, fast, and cheap" triangle is rarely resolved without the architect sacrificing their own time, health, or even the quality of the project. Repeated for decades, this equation fuels a cycle of wear that not only undermines the profession but also depreciates the value of design in society, even diminishing the role of such a beautiful and important discipline.
Architecture's design process has always been shaped by the tools at hand. We once drew with pen and ink on fragile sheets, copied by blueprint and guarded against smudges and tears; then Mylar arrived, making revisions and preservation easier and nudging drawings toward a leaner, more deliberate economy of lines. Computer-aided drafting followed, speeding coordination and changing how we think about scale and precision. Today, AI adds another layer—gathering information in seconds and spinning images on command—promising new efficiencies while raising fresh questions about authorship and craft. What we make, and how we make it, has evolved with each tool; the history of our methods is the history of our ideas.
Beginning in the post-war era, Mylar (developed in the 1950s) eased drawing reproduction and hastened the shift from blueprint to whiteprint processes. Before Mylar, simply preserving drawings—keeping an idea intact, legible, and undamaged—was a significant task. Post-war design priorities often leaned toward efficiency, simplicity, and an industrial minimalism aligned with reconstruction needs. The tools reinforced this: architectural work remained predominantly hand-drawn, where every line took time to lay down and even more time to erase. That labour sharpened the economy of drawing; each stroke had to earn its place.
In the complex ecosystem of architectural development, where innovative concepts meet market realities, a distinct role exists to bridge diverse professional interests and realize impactful spaces. Elisa Orlanski Ours exemplifies this function. This is the domain of Elisa Orlanski Ours, a designer, educator, and industry leader. As Chief Planning & Design Officer at Corcoran Sunshine Marketing Group, Elisa founded her department two decades ago. Now, her extensive portfolio spans condominium skyscraper master plans and individual branded villas across continents, including significant New York City developments like Hudson Yards and 220 Central Park South, as well as international developments in collaboration with prominent architectural firms like SHoP Architects, BIG, Herzog & de Meuron, Adjaye Associates, and SO-IL. Her strategic perspective on bringing projects from schematic phase to final sale provides valuable insights into the industry's intricate workings. ArchDaily's Managing Editor, Maria-Cristina Florian, had the opportunity to discuss these critical topics with Elisa in the following interview.
How many software tools and platforms are involved today in developing a contemporary project? From designing a single-family house to a public library, relying on just one or two programs is no longer common. Instead, multiple tools combine, overlap, and interact throughout various stages, including analysis, design, rendering, coordination, and construction. This widespread use of software in the virtual world reflects not only the technical complexity of today's practice but also a more subtle yet equally significant shift: software has become less a specific tool and more an environment that accompanies and even challenges the process.
https://www.archdaily.com/1031629/architecture-in-the-age-of-platforms-what-role-does-software-play-in-practice-todayEnrique Tovar
Despite major breakthroughs in other industries, with tools like Cursor reshaping how software gets built, or AlphaFold revolutionizing protein structure prediction, AEC is still waiting on its defining AI moment. Yes, many visualization tools have made waves, especially when it comes to generating beautiful imagery. But they fall short when it comes to understanding the actual design process. They don't grasp the constraints, logic, and decisions that turn those visuals into real, buildable architecture.
And that's exactly where AI's most valuable use case in AEC lies: not in how a building looks, but in how it comes together.
Artificial intelligence is becoming an undeniable presence in our daily lives. It teaches, generates content, and disrupts the fragile boundaries—both visual and imaginative—that once governed our interactions on social media. On platforms like Instagram, we witness a flood of imagery where every kind of speculative exercise is freely shared, recalibrating our understanding of the relationship between architecture and image. Amid this transformation, entire professions find themselves on uncertain ground, as AI begins to challenge areas once defined by human expertise.
Yet beneath this apparent abundance lies the opaque core of closed-source AI: an algorithmic black box that systematically conceals the origins of the data it consumes. As a result, its outputs are inevitably prone to factual distortions, anachronisms, and subtle or overt biases. This same machinery can hollow out the significance behind the languages and stylistic signatures of canonical architects—manifest, for instance, in AI-generated visions speculating how famed designers, living or dead, might have reimagined the Eiffel Tower. We shared one such image to observe and better understand how people—especially architects—respond to AI's current possibilities and limitations, and the ways it mimics architectural intent. The response was quite fascinating, revealing a mix of curiosity, concern, and critical reflection.
District 11 in Sharjah, UAE. Exterior render. Image Courtesy of HWKN
Architecture firm HWKN has been commissioned by Al Marwan Real Estate Development to design eleven distinct buildings for a new commercial neighborhood in central Sharjah, the third most populous city in the United Arab Emirates. The district, featuring offices, retail spaces, cafés, childcare and healthcare facilities, specialized institutes, and a mosque, has been fully researched, conceptualized, and planned using Artificial Intelligence (AI).
