Modernism has a long history in Morocco. Being close to Europe and under French Protectorate rule, it kept pace with architectural developments in the movement. Its relative peace after the Second World War further strengthened its role as some European architects sought a hub for new ideas. Architects in independent Morocco adopted Modernism as they were tasked to build the infrastructure of a new nation. The architect Jean-François Zevaco, born in Morocco to French parents, practiced across these formative periods, developing his own expressive version of modern architecture.
Since August 2025, debate has intensified in Dallas, United States, over the future of one of its modern landmarks: I.M. Pei & Partners' Dallas City Hall. This month, the Dallas City Council will continue weighing whether to repair, sell, or demolish the 47-year-old building, following growing concerns over long-deferred maintenance and the need for major investment. In late October, council members began public listening sessions and committee meetings to gather resident input. Preservationists and some council members urged a full study of repair options and historic landmarking, while others emphasized fiscal and operational concerns.
Supporters of preservation stress the building's civic and architectural significance, while those advocating for demolition point to high maintenance costs and the redevelopment potential of the centrally located site. A petition to "Save Dallas City Hall," calling on council members to halt demolition plans and commission a transparent renovation study, remains open for signatures. Meanwhile, the mayor has said he wants to review all the facts before taking a position on whether the city should relocate or invest in repairs. The case adds to the growing list of modernist icons worldwide facing uncertain futures, sparking broader cultural debates about civic heritage and public infrastructure.
On the Other Side of Languish exhibition by Reginald Sylvester II. Debut exhibition of the Limbo Museum in Ghana, West Africa. Image Courtesy of Limbo Museum
The Limbo Museum is a new institution dedicated to architecture, art, and design based in Ghana, West Africa. The museum challenges the concept of the ruin, operating from a formerly abandoned Brutalist estate that currently conveys the image of an unfinished building. The project was founded by Limbo Accra, a spatial design and research-based practice established in 2018 by Dominique Petit-Frère and Emil Grip, dedicated to "unlocking the potential of unfinished buildings across West Africa and beyond." On October 31, 2025, the museum opened its first public exhibition, On the Other Side of Languish by Reginald Sylvester II, developed through the institution's visiting artist residency program.
What if the best kind of play isn't the safest? For decades, cities have built playgrounds to be clean, colorful, and easy to supervise. Yet these spaces—designed more for adult peace of mind than for children's curiosity—often strip away what makes play truly transformative: risk, unpredictability, and self-direction. Rising safety standards, shrinking public space, and the commercialization of play equipment have only further narrowed the possibilities for children's independent exploration. From a junkyard in 1940s Copenhagen to the concrete landscapes of postwar Amsterdam, a handful of architects, planners, and activists have challenged the idea that play must be neat and controlled. Their unconventional playgrounds—made of loose parts, raw materials, and abstract forms—gave children the freedom to build, demolish, explore, and get dirty.
Strada Brutalissima. Pavilion of the Republic of North Macedonia at the 19th Venice Architecture Biennale, 2025. Image Courtesy of Blagoja Bajkovski
The Republic of North MacedoniaPavilion at the 19th Venice Architecture Biennale is dedicated to the Brutalist architecture of its capital city, Skopje. This architectural movement has given the city a distinctive identity following the earthquake that struck in 1963. According to pavilion curator, architect Blagoja Bajkovski, in the aftermath of the disaster, Skopje embraced Brutalism from a variety of sources. One of the most prominent of these was Kenzo Tange's reconstruction plan, developed after an international competition organized by the United Nations in 1965. The exhibition, titled Strada Brutalissima, recounts this identity, the events that shaped it, and the buildings that continue to represent it through a series of architectural models. Inspired by the 1980 Venice Architecture Biennale's Strada Novissima, the project reinterprets the concept of a curated "street," this time centered on Skopje's Brutalist heritage.
Yale Art + Architecture Building. Image Courtesy of gwathmey siegel & associates architects
By the mid-nineteenth century, American universities began to distinguish architecture from civil engineering and the applied sciences formally. Architecture was emerging as a discipline defined by both technical competence and conceptual inquiry, spatial imagination, and cultural agency. As this disciplinary identity evolved in the postwar decades, its built expression coalesced into the emerging architectural language of Brutalism.
Born in the post-war period in the United Kingdom, the Brutalism movement was first met with skepticism but has found a new appreciation in the last decade, capturing the imagination of new designers fascinated with the interplay between striking geometric shapes and the exposed raw materials in which they are rendered. From Britain, the movement spread throughout Europe, Southeast Asia, and Africa, gathering different variations influenced by the cultural and socio-economic status of each area. In this article, we delve into the particularities that define Italy's contribution to the Brutalist movement, exploring the style through the lens of Roberto Conte and Stefano Perego. The two photographers have also published a photographic essay on the subject, taking the form of a book titled "Brutalist Italy: Concrete Architecture from the Alps to the Mediterranean Sea".
When designing a space—whether at the scale of interiors, architecture, or infrastructure—materiality is a central concern. Beyond aesthetics, materials determine how a project functions, ages, and endures. Some architects—such as Wang Shu and Kengo Kuma—have built their practices on a deep sensitivity to the potential and limits of materials. But even in the most pragmatic sense, the question arises: What lasts? What doesn't? And how do materials change over time? Naturally, materials shape atmosphere and appearance—qualities that often matter most to clients. Yet increasingly, the discourse around materiality has shifted from structural substance to surface treatment. When did we start focusing more on "decorating" our spaces by layering one material over another, rather than relying on the inherent beauty and performance of the building fabric itself?
The twentieth century marked a definitive shift in the realm of architecture, as the Modernist movement broke from traditional building styles and encouraged experimentation and innovation. With the help of new materials and technologies, these times represent a crucial moment in the history of architecture as both cities and building styles evolved at an unprecedented rate. The structures that stand testament to this day are, however, nearing the age of a hundred years old. Their stark design features are not always embraced by the public, while the functionalist principles often hinder the adaptability of their interior spaces. Given that they also often occupy central positions within the city, there is increasing pressure to demolish these structures and redevelop the area in its entirety.
As Syria is emerging from over a decade of conflict at the time of writing, it is an opportunity to rediscover its architectural gems. Just to the north of the country's principal port city of Latakia is a Modernist creation that is the Center for Marine Research. Its pyramidal structure is situated on a prominent headland surrounded by sea on three sides. To the east is a bay with hotels and beaches while to the north and west is the open Mediterranean Sea reaching Turkey and Cyprus beyond. Despite its importance both as a research institution and as a piece of architecture, it lies abandoned and isolated today.
Brutalist architecture in the United States is a monument to collective postwar optimism and reassurance that the city and federal governments are in authority. Conceived as an embodiment of strength and efficiency, Brutalist structures were quickly adopted for the architectural language of civic and governmental institutions in the mid-to-late twentieth century in the United States. Towering monoliths of raw concrete rose across the nation, projecting an image of institutional permanence while simultaneously provoking debate over their social and psychological impact.
Architecture competitions have long been a means for nations to shape their identity, cultural landscapes, and built environment. They provide a platform for international architects to contribute to national projects, often reflecting broader ambitions of modernization and global recognition. In 1976, Bahrain launched potentially the first major architectural competition—a call for designs for a National Cultural Centre, bringing some of the world's leading architects into the Gulf's emerging architectural discourse. Though the winning design by Timo Penttilä was never built, the competition remains a key moment in Bahrain's history, illustrating the challenges of translating external visions into local realities.
In the heart of Cairo, amid its historic landmarks and evolving urban fabric, a distinct modernist architectural movement took shape in the 1950s and 60s. It reflected the city's response to rapid political, economic, and social changes. When it arrived, modernism in Cairo was not just an imported style but a "pragmatic response to the needs of a growing city." Architects focused on functionality, efficiency, and adapting designs to the local climate and cultural context. Following the 1952 revolution, Egypt underwent significant transformations under President Gamal Abdel Nasser's leadership. In fact, the government sought to build a new national identity that reflected progress and the nation's self-sufficiency. Architecture played a crucial role in this effort, with a strong focus on modernization and development. The state invested in large-scale projects to accommodate the needs of a rapidly growing population and expanding industries. This period marked a shift from colonial-era influences toward a search for a distinct architectural identity that aligned with the political and social aspirations of the time.
The demolition of Hotel Jugoslavija, a notable example of modernist architecture in Belgrade, has begun, making way for new development in the city's rapidly changing urban landscape. Constructed in 1969 in New Belgrade, the hotel was once among the largest and most prominent in Europe, reflecting the aspirations of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRY) during its peak. Designed by Zagreb architect Lavoslav Horvat, the eight-story hotel was a key project under the leadership of Josip Broz Tito. It showcased the modernist principles of the time, combining functionality with imposing architectural forms. Its interiors featured luxurious details, including a Swarovski chandelier comprised of 40,000 crystals, which underscored the building's significance as a flagship of Yugoslavia's international presence.
Upper Lawn's thoughtful interplay between the new and the existing is particularly compelling. Built on the remains of an 18th-century English farmhouse, the pavilion repurposes thick masonry walls from the original structure, incorporating elements such as the well, trees, and lawn into its design. Using prefabricated materials like timber, glass, and aluminum, the Smithsons constructed a light-filled space that harmonizes with its surroundings, embodying their principle of "as found architecture" — a concept rooted in honoring and adapting to preexisting conditions rather than imposing on them.
ane Drew and Maxwell Fry with a model of one of their many buildings for the Gold Coast, 1945. / Tropical Modernism - Architecture and Independence at the V&A South Kensington . Image Courtesy of RIBA
Reflecting on 2024, numerous architectural exhibitions have opened worldwide, addressing various themes, exhibition formats, and featured architects. Architectural design and architecture practice influence our daily lives in subtle and often unnoticed ways, where the end-users embrace built environments as they are. This reaction may arise from a combination of factors, such as a sense of powerlessness to enact significant change after a building is constructed or the experience of growing up in environments over which individuals had little or no agency in shaping. For these reasons, architectural exhibitions serve an essential purpose, offering society a chance to pause, reflect, and critically examine the myriad issues that surface during designing and building. These issues are often overlooked or need to be acknowledged, as practitioners may prioritize delivering projects within strict timelines over exploring more profound reflections.
In 2024, museums, galleries, and curators responded to the evolving challenges within the built environment with various approaches. Some exhibitions questioned the ethics of building materials and the practices behind supply chains, drawing attention to the broader implications of material choices. Others focused on documenting architectural movements worldwide, emphasizing their cultural and historical significance and the urgent need to preserve and adapt rather than replace them with entirely new builds. These efforts highlight the role of exhibitions in raising awareness about pressing issues while fostering a more critical dialogue about the architectural discipline.
