Through October 11, 2026, Mexico City once again becomes a global epicenter of innovation and creative excellence with the opening of Design Week Mexico 2026 (#DWM26). This edition adopts a broader and more diverse curatorial vision, inviting both the public and design professionals to reflect on the discipline from global, fluid, and inclusive perspectives that transcend traditional approaches.
Filippo Brunelleschi and the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore, completed in 1436 in the Italian city of Florence, represent an important chapter in the history of architecture, often associated with the growing distance between drawing and building. This separation, gradually consolidated over time, finds a decisive turning point in the Renaissance. Drawing becomes an instrument for anticipating and asserting authority over construction. The building site, once a space for invention and decision-making, came to be understood primarily as a place of execution.
Over the following centuries, this distance becomes increasingly pronounced, particularly with modern construction. Industrialization, technical specialization, and corporate organization fragment the building process into increasingly distinct stages. Those who design rarely build; those who build do not always participate in decision-making; those who finance, manage, and inhabit occupy positions that are even further removed from one another. The efficiency of this model made it possible to build at scale, but it also concentrated knowledge and decision-making power in the hands of certain agents.
The Arts and Crafts movement is often remembered as an architectural style defined by handcrafted details, an intimate scale, natural materials, and a rejection of excess and industry. Its influence is frequently traced through visual characteristics that continue to appear in contemporary architecture and interiors, from exposed timber and crafted joinery to an emphasis on texture and permanence, yet reducing the movement to an aesthetic vocabulary overlooks its far more significant contribution. For William Morris, Philip Webb, John Ruskin, and their contemporaries, architecture was a question of how things were made, who made them, and whether the process of making could cultivate dignity, meaning, culture, and beauty.
Craft in contemporary interiors is increasingly valuable in the way materials are joined and brought into relation with one another. As the appetite for fast, inexpensive, and profitable retrofitting grows, there is also a parallel desire for interiors that feel thoughtfully resolved: spaces where details are integrated, material assemblies are considered, textures transition with intention, and hardware is treated as part of the architectural language rather than an afterthought. In many contemporary Chinese interiors, craft operates quietly through the treatment of surfaces and structures: timber that retains its irregularity, terrazzo that records aggregate and handwork, or finishes that reveal the care of their making.
This is especially important in an era when digital images increasingly reward smoothness. Rendered interiors often appear seamless, frictionless, and complete before construction has even begun. Craft complicates this image. It introduces tolerance, texture, material resistance, and the sense that a surface has passed through human hands before becoming architecture. Imperfection is not necessarily a failure of precision. To the eye that knows how to read it, it can become evidence of process.
Materials can carry memory. They do more than finish a space; they can anchor it, shape atmosphere, and connect interiors to broader cultural and material narratives. Some architects and designers explore local techniques, natural resources, and craft traditions to balance cultural preservation with modern functionality, introducing context and depth. This is not necessarily a return to the past, but a reinterpretation of inherited knowledge to create architecture that resonates with contemporary needs.
How is it possible to maximize livability in small spaces? What design decisions contribute to functionality and the fulfillment of the inhabitants' essential needs? Over the past decade, small-scale architecture has gained prominence in the quest to find new ways of living in connection with nature and in pursuit of relative self-sufficiency, among other reasons. From minimal homes or tree houses to fine carpentry solutions and sculptures, the Portuguese design studio Madeiguincho is dedicated to developing timber-based projects with the aim of promoting knowledge of wood craftsmanship as both a raw material and a building medium.
"Living Scaffolding" is the name of the proposal selected to represent Peru at the 19th International Architecture Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia. Curated by architects Alex Hudtwalcker, Sebastián Cillóniz, and Gianfranco Morales, along with historian José Ignacio Beteta, the exhibition tells the story of a totora reed raft that, in 1988, embarked on a sea journey to other ports in South America and Polynesia. Its unprecedented expedition began on the Peruvian coast south of Lima and lasted 54 days at sea. The raft was the result of a collective, handcrafted effort and a significant structural challenge. The exhibition aims to highlight the importance of ancestral knowledge in addressing such challenges, celebrate materials essential to Peruvian cultural heritage, and expose the value of collective intelligence.
In celebration of the inaugural Melbourne Design Week, which took place in March 2017, Chilean design studio Great Things to People (gt2P) presented their Catenary Pottery Printer, aimed at exploring the boundaries between digital and analog machines. Throughout the design festival, local designers and students used the pottery printer to create their own custom works, with visitors welcomed to watch the craft in action.
Developed by the architects of the "think-act tank" Archquid, in connection with the indigenous community and other institutions of the parish of San Rafael de la Laguna (Otavalo, Ecuador), this project revolves around the material research of the totora plant, a subspecies of the giant bulrush sedge. The Totora Cube project deepens the understanding of the art and craft with which these fibers have been used since pre-Inca times.
