In 1952, American composer John Cage presented his groundbreaking piece "4'33''" for the first time. In it, the orchestra produces no intentional sound for four minutes and thirty-three seconds. What can be heard instead are breaths, movements, and subtle noises that would normally go unnoticed, but here become part of the composition itself. With this work, Cage revealed that absolute silence does not exist. There is always sound, even when unplanned.
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.
Behind layers of plaster, paint, and finishes lies an intricate network of pipes, electrical conduits, beams, and other structural elements that make a building function and stand, yet remain invisible to the everyday eye. Within these layers, traces of different periods accumulate: replaced systems, improvised adaptations, and technical solutions that once responded to specific contexts and urgencies. In adaptive reuse, the greatest challenge often begins before construction even starts, which is understanding what lies within when little or no reliable documentation exists. During a renovation, pleasant or unpleasant surprises are inevitable. The unexpected is part of the process, but it also represents cost, delay, and risk factors that often discourage investors and professionals from engaging in this type of project.
The Suzhou Museum of Contemporary Art (Suzhou MoCA), designed by BIG – Bjarke Ingels Group, is nearing completion along the Jinji Lake waterfront in Suzhou, China. Conceived as a cluster of twelve pavilions beneath a continuous, ribbon-like roof, the 60,000-square-meter complex reinterprets the traditional garden architecture that has long defined Suzhou's urban and cultural identity. Commissioned by the Suzhou Harmony Development Group and developed in collaboration with ARTS Group and Front Inc., the project is expected to open officially in 2026. The museum will debut with "Materialism," an exhibition curated by BIG that traces a material journey from stone to recyclate.
Water is the foundation of life. It shapes landscapes, regulates climates, and sustains every living organism. Yet on the only known inhabited planet, this essential resource faces a growing crisis: although 70% of Earth's surface is covered by water, less than 1% is actually available for human use. Most of it is consumed by agriculture and industry, while in households, activities like bathing and flushing use vast amounts of drinking water for non-essential purposes. The bathroom, therefore, has become a key space for innovation, where technology and design can help redefine how we use and reuse this vital element.
The practice of combining materials to achieve better performance has accompanied humanity since the earliest constructions. One of the first known examples emerged over five thousand years ago, when civilizations in Mesopotamia and Egypt mixed mud and straw to mold sun-dried adobe bricks. Light and fibrous, straw prevented cracking and increased strength, while mud acted as a binder and protection. This simple yet ingenious invention can be considered the first composite in history, illustrating the ancestral intuition that distinct materials, when combined, can become something stronger and better.
Faced with the combined forces of population growth, economic prosperity, and urban expansion, cities are witnessing a significant rise in the movement of people and goods—mirroring the evolution of diverse mobility systems within urban environments. As technologies advance and modes of transport evolve, the adaptive reuse of train carriages, airplane cabins, and other service infrastructures reveals opportunities to explore their creative potential. Materials, technologies, and design tools converge around a shared goal: refurbishing and repurposing disused structures to give them new life.
Architecture has entered a pivotal moment. As cities continue to grow under the weight of climatic and social pressures, the materials and systems that shape them are being redefined. Artificial intelligence and robotics, once used to accelerate construction processes, are now being rethought as tools for cultivation. Printed structures that grow, breathe, and decay. Cultivation, in this context, refers to designing with biological materials, where growth and decay are active parameters, merging digital precision with ecological intelligence. This evolution shows the shift from efficiency to empathy, where architecture becomes an agent of active repair. The introduction of mycelium and other natural materials into 3D printing presents a new paradigm in architecture: the logic of the living. A place where computation and fabrication meet biological adaptability.
Aristotle is credited with the proverb "One swallow does not make a summer." In nature, the arrival of these migratory birds often announces the change of seasons, a universal symbol of renewal and hope. Yet it is only when many take flight that the true warmth of summer begins. The same can happen in architecture: an isolated project, however exemplary, rarely changes a reality on its own. When, however, a work teaches, inspires, and can be replicated, it becomes the harbinger of something greater.
Concrete, steel, wood, glass. Every year, millions of tons of construction materials are discarded, piled up in landfills, and silenced beneath the weight of the next building. Entire structures disappear to make way for others, restarting a voracious cycle of resource extraction, material production, and replacement. Along with the debris that accumulates, something deeper is also lost: time, human labor, stories, and the collective memory embedded in matter. At a time when climate goals demand reducing emissions and extending the lifespan of what already exists, demolition is increasingly recognized as a form of urban amnesia, one that erases not only cultural continuity but also the embodied energy of buildings. And even though it is often said that the most sustainable building is the one that already exists, that principle rarely survives when other interests come into play.
For architects and specifiers, selecting the right cladding system is both a technical and creative act, connecting material science with architectural intent. More than simple visual envelopes, façades today are high-performance systems that balance protection, insulation, and expression. As the first barrier between exterior and interior, the right cladding system can define how a building behaves and ages over time, affecting its thermal comfort, acoustic performance, fire safety, and overall durability.
Architects and designers around the world are pushing the boundaries of modern design, and Corian® Solid Surface is being bent, curved, and twisted to help them realize their boldest visions.
It's no exaggeration to say that Renzo Piano is one of the most unanimously respected architects in the world of architecture. With an oeuvre that blends respect for context, lightness and technology to create environmentally conscious and aesthetically pleasing structures, his approach combines advanced materials with traditional techniques. In projects of various scales, the Genoese architect maintains an essential thread: the implementation of passive architectural strategies, highlighting the importance of these methods for sustainability and energy efficiency. This is often made explicit in his sketches, as an initial concern, and clearly comes through in the finished works. Here are some examples of iconic projects developed by his office in recent decades.
In the Water Lilies rooms at the Musée de l'Orangerie in Paris, Claude Monet conceived a 360-degree gallery where visitors are enveloped by continuous landscapes, dissolving the boundaries between painting and environment. There, he sought not merely to represent nature through his distinctive style, but to construct an atmosphere, a perceptual state that the visitor literally inhabits. Architecture, traditionally associated with materiality and permanence, thus gains a new dimension of time, movement, and sensory experience.
Terrazzo has long stood at the intersection of durability, artistry, and timeless appeal. Originating in Italy as a pragmatic way to reuse marble fragments in flooring, terrazzo has since become synonymous with elegance and strength in architecture. Traditionally crafted by hand using stone chips and lime and later, cement, it created continuous, seamless surfaces that celebrated both craftsmanship and endurance. Over time, as construction methods evolved and projects began to demand greater efficiency, adaptability, and modularity, terrazzo expanded beyond its traditional limits. From poured-in-place systems to modern epoxy-based formulations, it has evolved into a versatile material that enables thinner sections, faster installation, and a wider range of colors and aggregates. Today, precast terrazzo complements the traditional method, unlocking new applications without compromising performance or beauty, from stairs and wall cladding to furniture and custom design elements.
Cobe has revealed the design for Museum Wegner in Tønder, Denmark, a new cultural institution dedicated to the life and work of renowned Danish designer Hans J. Wegner. The museum will be located at Hestholm, a historic farm dating back to 1445, and will combine the adaptive reuse of existing structures with a contemporary extension. Selected as the project architect in February 2024 following a competitive interview process, Cobe is now moving the design toward realization with strong local and national support.
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.
