Residential architecture continues to offer a productive ground for unbuilt exploration, revealing how architects respond to site, climate, and constraint at the scale of the domestic. In this Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected projects bring together a range of proposals that reconsider the house not as an isolated object, but as a spatial system shaped by its environment. These works position architecture as a framework that negotiates between ground, material, and inhabitation, often emerging directly from the conditions of the site.
Across varied geographies, from Kerala and Cartagena to Amman, Tromsø, and Zwolle, the projects demonstrate diverse responses to domestic architecture. They include compact urban dwellings organized through vertical layering, courtyard houses partially embedded within the ground, residences adapted to sloping terrains, and typological transformations shaped by regulatory constraints. Some projects explore linear spatial sequences rooted in traditional proportions, while others organize domestic life around atria or excavated voids that mediate light, ventilation, and privacy. Together, these proposals examine how the house can be structured through section, material, and environmental performance rather than formal expression.
The flood does not arrive as a surprise. It returns, following the same swollen rivers and monsoon skies, loosening the ground and entering homes that were never meant to resist it. Walls are untied before they are lost, materials are gathered before they drift, and structures are rebuilt with a familiarity that suggests this is not destruction, but sequence. In landscapes where water returns each year, survival is defined by the ability to begin again.
Across the floodplains of Bangladesh, the Brahmaputra basin, and the Mekong Delta, inundation is a seasonal certainty. Reports by institutions such as the World Bank and the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change often frame floods through exposure and damage, measuring success through resistance and durability. Yet in territories that are submerged annually, such metrics only partially describe the problem. The ground itself oscillates between solid and liquid states. To build as if it were fixed is to design against the very condition that defines it.
Cultural centers continue to serve as a productive ground for unbuilt architectural exploration, reflecting how architects are rethinking the role of public institutions in relation to landscape, experience, and program hybridity. In this Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected projects bring together a range of proposals that expand the definition of the cultural center beyond a singular building. These works position architecture as a spatial framework that mediates between research, exhibition, retreat, and public life, often embedded within or distributed across natural and urban contexts.
Across varied geographies, from northern Norway and Oslo to Łódź, Vienna, Marrakech, and New Tashkent, the projects demonstrate diverse responses to cultural infrastructure. They include landscape-integrated complexes shaped by topography and climate, bridges that combine gallery and public circulation, zoological pavilions structured as immersive sequences, adaptive reuse of military buildings into performance spaces, courtyard-based environments rooted in local traditions, and climate-responsive institutions informed by environmental analysis. Together, these proposals explore how cultural programs can be organized through movement, spatial layering, and relationships between interior and exterior conditions.
Spaces of retreat continue to offer fertile ground for unbuilt exploration, revealing how architecture can support rest, reflection, and immersion in nature amid shifting environmental and cultural conditions. In this Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected projects assemble a diverse range of proposals that reconsider hospitality through the lens of refuge. These works position accommodation not as spectacle or excess, but as spatial frameworks shaped by landscape, climate, material restraint, and shared experience.
Across distinct geographies, from Southeast Asian hillsides and Indonesian coastlines to African wilderness, Alpine terrain, Middle Eastern landscapes, and North American forests, the proposals demonstrate varied architectural responses to sensitive sites. They include elevated structures that hover lightly above steep ground, temporary lodge systems embedded in remote ecologies, reconstructed mountain shelters grounded in memory and reuse, courtyard-centered communal stays shaped by lifestyle cultures, contemplative desert retreats, and inclusive woodland camps designed for accessibility and environmental balance.
On a hot afternoon in May, when the air over western India turns metallic with heat, no one remembers façade composition. They remember where the shade falls. They remember which corridor breathed. They remember the house that was cooler than the street. What stays in memory is comfort beyond the form. Repeated thermal preference stabilizes into spatial configuration, and over time, those configurations become building types.
"In various regions of the planet, nature imposes adverse conditions on the human body. In these places, designing a building is almost like creating a garment: an artifact that protects and offers comfort. This challenge requires technological performance that must be combined with aesthetics. Making human beings feel good involves more than just meeting notions of comfort and safety; it's also a question of working with spaces in their symbolic and perceptual dimensions." This is the beginning of the description for the design of the Brazilian Antarctic Station in Antarctica, by Estúdio 41, located on the Keller Peninsula, where the surrounding sea freezes for around six to seven months of the year, where everything and everyone arrives by plane or ship and the nearest hardware store is days away. If designing a building in normal circumstances already presents numerous complexities, it's not hard to imagine the additional challenges when developing something in an extreme environment, such as locations with very high or low temperatures, or in places susceptible to corrosion, radiation, and more. In this article, we will explore the difficulties, the main solutions and the materials used in these contexts.
From building codes to mobility restrictions and new diplomatic roles within city governments, climate policy is increasingly being shaped at the local level through a widening range of legislative and institutional tools. Cities as varied as Sydney, Boston, New York, Paris, Miami, and dozens across Latin America are adopting targeted strategies that reflect their distinct environmental pressures and governance structures. These initiatives range from all-electric and net-zero construction requirements, to traffic-control measures designed to curb the social costs of private vehicle use, to emerging forms of urban diplomacy that coordinate responses to rising temperatures and biodiversity loss. Together, these approaches illustrate how territorial management is evolving in response to the accelerating climate crisis, and how local governments are experimenting with regulation and collaboration to confront challenges that are at once global and deeply place-specific.
The state of California has emerged as a pioneering force in designing for climate change, yet it has also faced the devastating impacts of numerous climate-related disasters, including droughts, wildfires, and rising sea levels. This book offers a unique climate change tour, delving into architectural scale sites across the state. From innovative houses using sustainable techniques to historical locations ravaged by the combined forces of drought and wildfire, the book explores a range of poignant examples. The main visual contents are a set of architectural site illustrations that are each enhanced by an augmented reality component showcasing the interplay between past, present, and future scenarios. The publication caters to architects, landscape architects, planners, design enthusiasts and general audiences alike, fostering a curiosity about climate change and its relevance to our daily lives.
Collective housing remains one of the most active areas for unbuilt architectural exploration, revealing how architects are rethinking domestic life, density, and shared living across different cultural and environmental contexts. In this curated Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected proposals investigate new forms of dwelling that span mobile units, vertical developments, adaptive reuse, and landscape-driven residential clusters. Rather than treating housing as a purely functional container, these projects position it as a social and spatial framework that shapes everyday life, community ties, and long-term urban resilience.
Across varied geographies, from Tirana and Athens to Monterrey, Chaloos, Roatán, Bhola, and the DRC, these proposals explore multiple approaches to collective living: transforming industrial shells into residential structures, extending existing masterplans through landscape integration, reimagining verticality in dense urban centers, and developing modular prototypes that can adapt to changing climates or patterns of mobility. Some projects prioritize ecological strategies and local materials, while others test new models for accessibility, community well-being, or incremental urban growth. Together, they reflect a broad spectrum of architectural responses to contemporary housing pressures.
Mishing traditional bamboo house, Majuli . Photo by Rumi Borah. License Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International
Across India's varied geographies, from coastal backwaters to desert fortress cities, architecture evolved with a deep, instinctive connection to climate. These were not isolated craft traditions but complete ecological systems in which material cycles, thermal comfort, and community knowledge were interdependent. As COP30 turns global attention toward the links between heritage and climate resilience, India's vernacular practices appear less as historical artifacts and more as climate technologies refined over centuries.
On November 21, 2025, the closing day of the 30th edition of the Conference of the Parties (COP) took place, the yearly gathering of United Nations member states to negotiate international climate agreements and assess global progress toward emissions reduction. This year, the event was held in Belém, Brazil, a port city of fewer than 1.5 million people, widely known as a gateway to Brazil's lower Amazon region. First convened in 1992, UN Climate Change Conferences (or COPs) are an international multilateral decision-making forum on climate change involving 198 "Parties" (197 countries, nearly all of them, depending on definitions of country, and the European Union). Their purpose is to assess global efforts toward the central Paris Agreement aim of limiting global warming to as close as possible to 1.5 °C above pre-industrial levels. The event brings together leaders and negotiators from member states, business figures, young people, climate scientists, Indigenous Peoples, and civil society around issues considered essential to that climate goal. This year, COP30 was marked by strong criticism of its ties to the fossil fuel industry, descriptions of agreements as fragile and insubstantial, and the struggle to move climate finance "from pledge to lifeline."
Cities bring together the best and worst of the human condition. They concentrate opportunities for work, social networks, and cultural production, but they also expose deep social inequalities. Among the many forms of urban exclusion are limited access to transportation, housing, leisure, or safety issues. One form that is rarely discussed is thermal inequality. In lower-income neighborhoods, where there are fewer trees, parks, and permeable surfaces, heat accumulates and thermal discomfort dominates, resulting in higher energy consumption and health risks. As concern about the climate crisis grows, this discussion becomes more urgent: extreme heat is no longer just a climatic phenomenon but also a spatial expression of inequality.
Coding Plants: An Artificial Reef and Living Kelp Archive. Courtesy of Terreform ONE
This curated selection of projects from the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale explores how architects and designers are rethinking the relationship between the built environment and water in response to the global climate crisis. As sea levels rise and extreme weather events increase, water is no longer a distant threat but an immediate design condition. Rather than resisting it, these projects look at how architecture can coexist with, adapt to, and even regenerate through natural forces. Together, they suggest a shift toward working with the elements, acknowledging water not as a limit to construction but as an active participant in shaping future environments.
Biodiversity, defined by the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) as the different kinds of life found in an area, is in a state of crisis all across the world, with declines in the numbers of organisms and many species declared as at risk of extinction. All types are affected, from plants and fungi to large mammals, and there is a clear link to human activity being the cause. Although farming methods and climate change due to greenhouse gases play a major role, cities and buildings can play a small but important role in countering this decline.
