Founded by Senegalese architect Nzinga Mboup and French architect Nicolas Rondet, Worofila is a studio dedicated to bioclimatic and ecological architecture. Based in Dakar, Senegal, the firm explores the potential of vernacular materials like earth bricks and typha, applying modern techniques to create effective construction solutions. Their work addresses key issues of the environment, sustainability, and urbanization, merging traditional materials with innovative practices.
Park Hill, a large social housing complex in Sheffield, stands out as one of the most ambitious examples of modernist architecture in post-war Britain. Designed in 1961 by Jack Lynn and Ivor Smith, its innovative concept of "streets in the sky" aimed to combine high-density housing with the community spirit of traditional neighborhoods. By the late 20th century, the complex had fallen into severe neglect, marked by social problems and structural degradation that undermined both its functionality and reputation. Gradually, Park Hill became synonymous with the failure of modernism, carrying a heavy social stigma and marginalizing its residents.
India's built environment has, in recent years, gained visibility through a growing number of transformative architectural and infrastructure projects. Cities and towns scale faster each year, despite looming concerns around climate and economic volatility. The nation has shown resilience in balancing rapid urbanization with resource constraints; this is no small feat. India's architectural practices rarely rely on novelty alone; they are built on systems that have existed for centuries. Through ArchDaily's Building for Billions, recurring stories have highlighted the social intelligence and adaptive capacity embedded in these practices, revealing an architecture that operates less as isolated form and more as infrastructure.
Few plants have accompanied humanity as closely as cannabis. Used for millennia to make textiles, paper, and medicines, it has quietly shaped everyday life and built environments alike. Hemp, its non-psychoactive variety, is one of the earliest cultivated crops and a material of remarkable versatility: strong, breathable, and renewable. From ropes and sails to insulation and biocomposites, hemp’s fibers have been helping humans build for thousands of years.
Communicating an idea using only the essentials is a far greater challenge than it often appears. From Japanese haikus to the refined sculptures of Constantin Brâncuși, many artistic expressions have sought to condense the maximum meaning with the minimum of elements. This economy of form is not a sign of scarcity, but of intensity: every stroke, every word, every silence gains weight. There is something intrinsically appealing in what presents itself as simple and well-resolved, whether it is a text that wastes no words, a tennis player who moves with purposeful gestures, or a melody that is both direct yet unexpectedly profound.
Amid countless questions, reflections, and debates about rethinking what a hotel can be, current hotel architecture faces growing complexities that span user experience, environmental responsibility, and the relationship with local context. Contemporary hotel design shows a clear—and increasingly prominent—intention to blend seamlessly and harmoniously with its surroundings, building a sense of identity that responds to local cultures, traditions, and character. The interconnection with nature, along with the reinterpretation of hotels as spaces for engaging with their surroundings, creates a direct relationship that expands their boundaries beyond the history and origins of the many practices that have shaped—and continue to define—their local characteristics and philosophy of life.
The phenomenon known in biology as convergent evolution describes how distant species can develop similar structures when confronted with comparable challenges. Dolphins and ichthyosaurs, for example, are separated by millions of years of evolutionary history, yet both evolved nearly identical hydrodynamic bodies. Architecture has its own parallels: A-frame structures emerged independently in both the European Alps and Japan, even without direct cultural exchange, as spontaneous responses to snow, wind, and material scarcity.
What is the current global outlook on the recyclability of materials used in architecture? To what extent are contemporary societies truly committed to reducing environmental impact? In the effort to live in balance with nature, replacing fossil fuels with renewable energy sources is one of the key strategies for cutting greenhouse gas emissions and addressing global warming. Looking to nature for inspiration as a way to protect it means creating designs that incorporate sustainability, circularity, and recyclability from the very first sketch. From building systems to surface finishes, the use of biomaterials in architecture reflects a mindset rooted in long-term responsibility for a material's full life cycle.
Across recent architectural discourse, interior design has been centered on how spaces shape psychological and atmospheric experience, and on what gives interior environments their emotional resonance. Attention has shifted toward small details rather than relying primarily on form or structure. Light, for instance, is not only a technical requirement but also an architectural material in its own right. It can structure space, animate surfaces, define textures, and shape atmosphere while influencing well-being. At the same time, the characteristics between minimalism and maximalism shape how atmospheres are perceived, prompting reflection on how approaches to simplicity or exuberance might influence mood. Rather than existing as opposing aesthetics, these tendencies explore how interiors interact with mental states, reflect personal identity, and respond to the subtle shifts in the way people inhabit and experience space.
Caochan na Creige, designed by Izat Arundell, has been announced as the winner of the RIBA House of the Year 2025 award. The timber-framed, stone-clad self-build is located in Scotland's Outer Hebrides, occupying a compact rural plot defined by exposed weather conditions and a distinct geological setting. Built by and for its architect owners, the house was selected for its clear response to site constraints, its material strategy, and the consistency between design intent and construction.
Once confined to the aerospace and automotive industries, composite materials have taken on an increasingly central role in contemporary architecture. By combining two or more components, such as fibers and polymers, they offer lightness and strength, high durability, formal freedom, and enhanced environmental performance. Their incorporation into architectural practice marks a profound transformation in how we design, fabricate, and inhabit space.
Architecture has always played a key role in providing shelter and protection for human beings. In prehistoric times, we sought refuge in caves, taking advantage of rock structures for protection against the natural elements and predators. Over time, shelters began to be made from materials found in nature, such as branches, leaves, and animal skins, evolving into more permanent and complex homes, with walls made of stone, bricks or wood, roofs to protect against rain and sun, and doors to control access. As we developed more advanced building skills, we used materials such as wood, stone, and clay and architecture evolved significantly, with the construction of temples, palaces, and fortifications that provided not only shelter but also symbolized power, status, and cultural identity. Even so, our buildings can continue to be seen as shells that protect us from the outside world.
As 2025 approaches its end, we look back at an eventful year in the world of interior design. Last year, designers favored reserved, modest approaches, a trend that continued from previous years. The emergence of artificial intelligence generated intense discussions on digital equity and misinformation, which continued into 2025, especially with the topic of the Venice Architecture Biennale, Intelligens. This opened the conversation to the opportunities of digital technologies, attempting a more hopeful outlook. On the other hand, completed interior design projects over the year focused more on the tangible and the pragmatic, with expressed raw materials and an appreciation of history.
How does the construction sector shape the future of cities? What challenges does it face? At the crossroads of demographic, social, energy, and climate pressures, the construction sector is changing fast. Professionals, institutions, and citizens are working together to build environments that improve health and well-being, encourages durable and place-responsive solutions, cut carbon emissions, withstand climate risks, and provide affordable, high-quality housing.
Le Corbusier's Unité d'Habitation imagined a "vertical neighborhood," a building able to integrate housing, commerce, leisure, and collective spaces within a single structural organism. Around the same time, Jane Jacobs argued that diversity of use is what produces safety, identity, and social life at the street level. Later, Rem Koolhaas, in Delirious New York, described the skyscraper as an early experiment in "vertical urbanism," capable of stacking incompatible programs under one roof. In cities like Tokyo and Hong Kong, this ambition matured into complex hybrid buildings where different uses, such as transit hubs, retail, offices, hotels, and housing, coexist and interact continuously.
All architecture is grounded in the earth. This pliant, resilient raw material is the origin of extruded ceramic tiles—clay transformed from its natural state into an architectural solution without relinquishing any of its authenticity. Exagres' work is rooted in this natural material, carefully transforming the clay with skillful precision and guiding it on this journey rather than forcing it.
For a long time, architecture was understood as an essentially individual activity, dependent on the figure of a creative genius and centered on the ability to solve problems through drawing. Over time, this image began to fade. The protagonism once concentrated in a few names reached its peak during the era of the starchitects and gradually became distributed among offices, collectives, and multidisciplinary teams. Today, architects are expanding their boundaries into other fields such as gastronomy, music, design, and the corporate world, applying spatial thinking to address challenges of various kinds. As social, environmental, and political crises deepen, the role of the architect continues to evolve from a solitary author to a mediator, activist, and collective agent of transformation. This shift reflects an ethical awakening and a recognition that design, regulation, and care are inseparable dimensions of contemporary practice.
Once synonymous with monotony, “prefabricated” buildings often bring to mind the gray, repetitive housing blocks of the postwar era. But that image no longer fits today’s reality. Powered by digital design, robotics, and advanced materials, prefabrication has evolved into a language of innovation and precision. Far from uniform, it now enables flexible, efficient, and sustainable spaces that reflect the individuality of contemporary architecture.