Across Europe and beyond, architects are confronting a turning point. As rising emissions targets collide with shrinking material supplies and the growing urgency of climate commitments, the built environment is being forced into a deeper reckoning with how it consumes, circulates, and discards resources. What was once considered waste is now revealing itself as a dormant architectural archive, an urban ecosystem of materials waiting to be reclaimed, revalued, or reimagined. Within this shift, architects are beginning to play a radically different role. Not only as designers of buildings, but also as orchestrators of the flows that sustain them.
This emerging mindset is reshaping the foundations of practice. Instead of depending on long, extractive supply chains, designers are beginning to build their own closed-loop networks, establishing material banks, negotiating deconstruction protocols, and participating in new forms of urban mining.
Like the famous Russian Matryoshka doll, opening a package often feels like uncovering endless layers. Inside a cardboard box, there might be molded Styrofoam, then several plastic air pillows, and finally, individual plastic wrapping around each piece. Even a small product can leave behind a trail of plastic waste far larger than its size. Now imagine this logic applied to a construction site where every component, every delivery of materials, often arrives wrapped in multiple layers of protection. What already seems excessive in retail becomes monumental when repeated daily on large construction projects.
All materials come from somewhere, embedded in a chain of extraction, supply, production, and disposal that, depending on its scale, leaves more or less significant marks on the environment. In architecture, we usually approach this trajectory through the lens of materials' circularity, considering how they can re-enter production cycles rather than become waste. Yet, broadening our view to unexpected places reveals parallel systems where by-products from one industry become resources for another. This approach has found fertile ground in organic waste transformed into biomaterials, with one of the most recent examples being the work of Fahrenheit 180º. Through their installation, "From the Tagus to the Tile", they repurpose oyster shells initially discarded by food systems to create a reinterpretation of Lisbon's iconic tiles.
In 2020, in the midst of the first wave of lockdowns due to the pandemic, the municipality of Amsterdam announced its strategy for recovering from this crisis by embracing the concept of the “Doughnut Economy.” The model is developed by British economist Kate Raworth and popularized through her book, “Doughnut Economics: Seven Ways to Think Like a 21st-Century Economist”, released in 2017. Here, she argues that the true purpose of economics does not have to equal growth. Instead, the aim is to find a sweet spot, a way to balance the need to provide everyone with what they need to live a good life, a “social foundation” while limiting our impact on the environment, “the environmental ceiling.” With the help of Raworth, Amsterdam has downscaled this approach to the size of a city. The model is now used to inform city-wide strategies and developments in support of this overarching idea: providing a good quality of life for all without putting additional pressure on the planet. Other cities are following this example.
The circular economy, including the reuse of building materials, is fast becoming a key component in the fight against carbon emissions. This involves designing to minimize waste and utilize materials that can be reused at the end of the building's life. On the opposing side, the reuse of materials from partially or wholly demolished buildings can also reduce waste and carbon emissions that would have resulted from using virgin materials. Sustainability purposes aside, the reuse of building materials has a centuries-old history, both for symbolic reasons and simply out of necessity.
At the end of each edition of the Architecture Biennale, far from the public eye, tons of exhibition materials are transported across Venice in handcarts and boats. Only a small portion of these materials is reused. The main obstacles are the limited storage space in Venice and the high logistical costs—recurring challenges for circular architecture. As a result, most of the waste ends up in landfills or nearby recycling centers. But this scenario is beginning to change. In response to growing environmental concerns, architects are developing strategies to make reuse more viable. These efforts go beyond architectural and construction decisions—they also involve logistics and international trade.
In recent years, architecture has increasingly embraced adaptability, flexibility, and responsiveness as core design principles. This evolution reflects a shift from traditional notions of static, permanent structures to dynamic environments that can adjust to changing needs and conditions. Central to this transformation is the concept of "soft architecture", which leverages pliable materials and innovative systems to create spaces that are functional, sustainable, and user-centric. Soft architecture takes shape through membranes that breathe, façades that move, structures that inflate or fold, and surfaces that bend rather than break. It involves designing for transformation — not only in how a building performs environmentally, but also in how it can accommodate shifting functions, user interactions, or temporary occupations. This approach to building challenges traditional notions of durability and control, proposing instead a more responsive and open-ended architecture. It reflects a growing awareness that buildings, like the societies they serve, must be able to evolve.
In partnership with the European Cultural Center (ECC), ArchDaily has launched its inaugural exhibition as part of the seventh iteration of Time Space Existence, an architectural showcase occurring concurrently with the 19th VeniceArchitecture Biennale. Open from May 10 to November 23, 2025, in various locations throughout Venice, this edition centers on the theme of "Repair, Regenerate, and Reuse," promoting innovative and sustainable approaches in architecture. ArchDaily's contribution is located at Palazzo Mora, complementing other venues like Palazzo Bembo, Marinaressa Gardens, and Palazzo Michiel.
During the Time Space Existence exhibition, organized by the European Cultural Centre in Venice, Pritzker Prize-winning architect Alejandro Aravena and his firm ELEMENTAL unveiled a full-scale prototype for a new approach in incremental housing solutions. Titled the USB Core, standing for Basic Services Unit housing prototype, this proposal aims to demonstrate how efficient construction can provide all the essential housing components in a minimal space. The prototype is also the result of a collaboration between the architecture office and concrete manufacturer and researcher Holcim, and is built out of a newly developed type of net-zero concrete mix. It also incorporates fully recycled aggregates, in alignment with circular economy principles. The collaboration aims to demonstrate a more environmentally conscious yet cost-effective way of providing essential services to at-risk communities without harming the planet.
While on site in Venice, ArchDaily's managing editor Maria-Cristina Florian had the chance to sit down with Alejandro Aravena and discuss the implications of this collaboration, the urgent need for housing, and the role of the architect as the coordinator of a process involving many actors.
Material intelligence refers to how materials perform, adapt, and interact with ecological and cultural systems. It considers how stone, steel, or timber respond to intertangled forces, how those materials are sourced and assembled, and how they persist after demolition. Designers are centering material intelligence in constructing our cities in a generation of environmental uncertainty and strained supply chains.
Officially open since April 13 as part of Expo 2025 Osaka, the German Pavilion, designed by LAVA Architects. brings to life the theme of the circular economy. Previously unveiled under the title "Wa! Doitsu" (translated as "Wow! Germany"), the Pavilion explores concepts around circularity, showcasing the "terminological culmination of the sustainability discussion." Focusing on returning all consumable goods to the cycle of the economy, achieving zero waste, and minimizing resource consumption, the theme is visible throughout the entire design.
In a context where sustainability and material identity are becoming priorities in architecture, some ancient materials are finding new life. Terrazzo, with origins dating back to the 15th century, stands out as an example of how tradition can fuel innovation. The modern form, as we know it today, emerged in 15th-century Venice, Italy, when Venetian mosaic workers, seeking to make use of marble scraps, began incorporating these irregular fragments into mortar to create durable and visually appealing surfaces for terraces around their homes. This approach not only minimized raw material waste but also led to the development of new surface-finishing techniques, evolving from manual stone rubbing to the use of a heavy, long-handled grinding stone known as a galera.
Social fragmentation and economic divides have fractured the fabric of urban environments. In this context, ecovillages emerge as influential remedies to societal and ecological crises, microcosms where sustainable living, social cohesion, and economic resilience drive urban growth. Rooted in environmental stewardship and circular systems, ecovillages offer a scalable model to inspire the development of regenerative urban neighborhoods across the world. Traditional urban and suburban development has led to sprawl and social isolation which have had detrimental effects on community cohesion and the environment. Alongside this phenomenon, cities have become inhumane, characterized by anonymity, unaffordable housing, traffic congestion, and pollution. The lack of access to nature solidifies these issues, leaving many urban dwellers disconnected from elements that promote well-being and a sense of belonging.
Sustainability has been deeply rooted in EGGER's corporate DNA since 1961. Long before it became a global imperative, Fritz Egger Sr. recognized the immense value of wood and laid the foundation for a business model built on responsible resource use. Working in closed cycles is a central element of the corporate philosophy. The wood-based material specialist gives the valuable resource of wood many lives and assumes comprehensive economic, ecological and social responsibility.
For decades, the life cycle of buildings was a simple formula: planning, design, construction, demolition, and, of course, the great villain in this history: the landfill. Over time, architectural practice began embracing concepts like reuse, disassembly, and circular demolition, but often as secondary elements, part of the gradual shift toward a circular economy in construction. But what if these principles were no longer exceptions? What if we crafted or chose every building component to maintain value and purpose beyond its original use? The truth is, there is life after demolition. This transition—from demolition to practices focusing on reuse, repurposing, and sustainable dismantling—is edging closer to reality. By the time 2030 arrives, we could fundamentally reshape how we approach processes, buildings, and the market itself. As these changes unfold, we must assess how our strategies align with the evolving goals and challenges related to sustainability—and, of course, the new opportunities they bring.
https://www.archdaily.com/1025567/what-if-every-brick-had-a-future-rethinking-demolition-and-material-reuse-in-the-circular-economyEnrique Tovar
Sustainability has been a central theme in architectural discussions for years, encompassing not only the profession’s role in combating climate change and transitioning to low-carbon economies but also preserving cultural heritage and celebrating vernacular traditions. In 2024, a wave of projects and studies stood out for their innovative use of natural materials, particularly in the Global South. These initiatives skillfully blend creativity and technology with renewable resources, demonstrating how architecture can deliver high-quality spaces that align with contemporary demands for sustainability and environmental responsibility.
Originally designed by Modernist architect and designer Alvar Aalto in 1971, Finlandia Hall represents one of Helsinki's most important modernist works of architecture. In early 2022, an extensive renovation project began, led by Finnish architecture firm Arkkitehdit NRT, aiming to make the venue more accessible to the wider public and create additional services while respecting Alvar Aalto's original design. After three years of renovation, Finlandia Hall officially reopens on Saturday, 4 January 2025.
