European City Context. Image Courtesy of ReGreeneration
The ReGreeneration project, a Horizon Europe project led by Inetum and supported by C40 Cities, ARUP, Placemaking Europe, and several others, operates as an active collaboration with local governments, private companies, academia, and civil society organizations at the intersection of urban regeneration, green public spaces, and neighborhood-scale design. Its premise addresses how European cities are built and maintained and how they experience a changing climate, arguing that cities must fundamentally change to remain livable under accelerating climate pressures.
Urban renewal is inherently fraught—financially complex, politically exposed, stakeholder-dense, and almost guaranteed to leave someone dissatisfied. Precisely for these reasons, many cities default to inertia rather than risk the upheaval that comes with reworking entrenched urban fabrics, their residences, and their dynamics; once the "sleeping bear" is prodded, unexpected complications tend to multiply.
Miyashita Park (Miyashita Kōen), located in Shibuya, Tokyo, crystallizes this dilemma. Its current form—a layered, mixed-use complex balancing commercial activity with a publicly accessible park—emerged from years of negotiation, critique, and recalibration. The result is a distinctive example of a public-private partnership that seeks to align urban amenity, everyday leisure, and economic viability, producing a new piece of city that hosts public life while underwriting its own upkeep.
The architect's role has traditionally been relatively well-defined: design a building, direct the project, coordinate logistics, and guide construction through to completion. As specialised fields have proliferated, together with a rapidly changing social economy, the practice of architecture has diversified, opening multiple paths for how architects can contribute to society.
Since the 1980s, one of the most consistent shifts may have been the separation between the "design architect" and the "architect of record." Where a single office once carried a project from concept to completion, internationalisation—alongside cross-border work, licensure regimes, procurement models, and liability structures—has encouraged a split. Design teams increasingly set the conceptual and schematic direction, then hand over the design development to local record architects for technical detailing, approvals, and site execution. The model has clear advantages—sharper expertise, efficiency, and often profitability (or services offered at reduced fees)—but it also segments the profession and can distance authorship from delivery.
What, then, might the next shift be, and what new synergies could redefine the architect's role? How should architects adapt to the changing professional climate? One promising trajectory is a turn from singular, permanent objects toward ongoing placemaking—iterative, context-specific programmes that prototype, test, and refine spatial ideas in public. Rather than producing one large, iconic work that fixes a site for decades, this model privileges cycles of making, use, evaluation, and adjustment at the community scale.
Curated by Cotter & Naessens Architects, the Ireland pavilion at the 19th International Architecture Exhibition - La Biennale di Venezia in 2025 presents Assembly, exploring architecture's role in shaping spaces for gathering, discussion, and democratic exchange. Commissioned by Culture Ireland in partnership with the Arts Council of Ireland the pavilion is officially inaugurated by Yvonne Farrell of Grafton Architects with Sharon Barry, Director of Culture Ireland, and Fionnuala Sweeney, Head of Architecture at the Arts Council.
Architecture has historically produced many iconic buildings shaped by singular visions—often designed unilaterally for users, communities, and cities. While this top-down approach has enabled strong formal coherence and conceptual clarity, it has also prioritized authorship over engagement. The result: projects that may be celebrated as visionary, yet often feel disconnected from the everyday realities of those who inhabit them.
Designing for others is inherently complex. As architects, we are frequently tasked with creating environments for communities with whom we may have no personal or cultural familiarity. This distance, however, can offer valuable objectivity. It allows us to engage diverse perspectives with fresh eyes, critically analyzing the needs and constraints of multiple stakeholders. Through this process, the discipline of architecture has advanced—pushing boundaries in spatial thinking, material innovation, and structural experimentation.
When we think about cities and urban life, we often focus on infrastructure, culture, commerce, nightlife, and density. In metropolises where there seems to be an endless array of activities—especially for adults—play rarely enters the conversation. Yet, the act of playing should be considered a vital part of urban life. Play directly influences how we shape our future cities—starting with how children engage with their environments. The experience of play, and more specifically, the design and presence of playgrounds, leaves lasting impressions on how young people grow up in cities. These spaces form a child's first, physical connection to the urban landscape. In this way, play deserves far more attention in conversations around urban wellness, livability, and the design of public space.
Amidst global economic adjustments and a domestic focus on high-quality development, Shanghai has implemented a strategic shift in its urban development approach—moving from 'incremental expansion' to 'connotative enhancement.' Guided by the concept of a "people-oriented city", Shanghai has elevated urban construction from mere physical space aggregation to a comprehensive endeavor aimed at optimizing functional quality, revitalizing spatial vitality, and boosting residential resilience through urban renewal initiatives. This transformation is framed not merely as a response to resource constraints but also as an intentional approach to urban development principles. Its core proposition lies in: under the policy framework of strictly controlling incremental land use, how to unleash development potential through the "reproduction" of existing spaces.
Architectural landmarks often cluster together. In Tokyo, the iconic Omotesando is a well-known stretch where global "starchitects" built flagship luxury retail spaces in the 2000s. Hong Kong has a lesser-known but equally powerful architectural agglomeration along Queensway—though historically more corporate and less publicly engaging. Beginning in the 1980s, this corridor became home to a series of landmark buildings by some of the world's most prominent architects: Norman Foster's HSBC Headquarters, I.M. Pei's Bank of China Tower, Paul Rudolph's Lippo Centre, and the nearby Murray Building by Ron Phillips—now revitalized as a hotel by Foster + Partners. The area is further enriched later on by Heatherwick Studio's renovation of Pacific Place and Tod Williams Billie Tsien Architects' Asia Society Hong Kong Center.
Every June, the Spanish city of Logroño transforms into a space of architectural dialogue, opening its streets, plazas, riverbanks, and traffic islands to temporary structures that redefine how cities are inhabited. For ten editions, Concéntrico has worked not as a specialized fair or an architecture biennale, but as a portable museum — a curatorial gesture that brings a dispersed collection of contemporary architecture into public space. Set in a city suspended between arid plains and distant mountains, far from the circuits of capital cities and cultural institutions, Concéntrico presents itself as a temporary promise. It's a reminder that even cities that are often overlooked can host architecture that is current, diverse, and speculative. In this sense, the festival is less about celebration and more about activation.
But beyond its curatorial logic, Concéntrico operates as a political structure. In the ancient sense of polis, it invites citizens, architects, and institutions to reassess what public space can be. The interventions offer speculative proposals for urban life that reveal what is missing, what is possible, and what should be questioned. A temporary pool over a fountain, a bathhouse in a roundabout, or a shared meal on a major avenue are not just spatial gestures — they are political statements, asking how urban infrastructure might be redirected from control to care, from efficiency to encounter. In that way, the festival becomes not just a reflection of the city, but an instrument for its transformation.
Marking World Play Day, June 11, the Play Pavilion, designed by British architect Peter Cook in collaboration with the LEGO Group, has just opened. The Pavilion is located next to Serpentine South in Kensington Gardens, London. Developed with Pablo Wheldon and Cong Ding, the Pavilion is a collaboration between Serpentine, the LEGO Group, The Royal Parks, and CONSUL. The project builds on Serpentine's broader efforts to connect architecture, design, and public engagement through temporary installations in the park.
What is our vision of public spaces from the past? Consider, for instance, a park—arguably the most iconic example of this typology. It is an environment designed with winding paths and rest areas, where we often find tables and fixed benches, positioned along the way. Its design prioritizes permanence and contemplation. But when we turn to the present, how do we envision it now? Indeed, the traditional concept of public space has not disappeared entirely. However, our way of interacting with it has changed, driven by the need for flexibility in ever-changing environments. This shift has sparked the exploration of new design approaches. As a result, modular seating systems have become a dynamic field of experimentation, continuously adapting to changing uses and perceptions.
https://www.archdaily.com/1027386/are-modular-seating-systems-redefining-our-perception-of-public-spacesEnrique Tovar
Architecture and its atmospheric qualities have long been a subject of discussion, yet reaching a consensus on the matter remains elusive. This is largely because spatial experience is deeply personal—rooted in emotions, sensory perceptions, and individual preferences that are difficult to articulate in words alone. The way one perceives, feels, and interacts with a space adds another layer of complexity, making it challenging to define and agree upon its atmospheric impact. Nevertheless, architects and designers continuously strive to shape environments that are not only functional and comfortable but also capable of evoking emotions and leaving a lasting impression on their occupants.
College of Europe's Tirana Campus . Image Courtesy of MIR, Designed by Oppenheim Architects
Tirana, the capital of Albania, is undergoing a remarkable transformation fueled by an ambitious vision for the future outlined in the Tirana 2030 (TR030) Master Plan. This plan, devised by renowned Italian architect Stefano Boeri, aims to reshape the city into a sustainable, green, and inclusive urban hub, with a focus on increasing density while enhancing the quality of life for its residents. Central to this vision are projects such as the creation of an "orbital forest" with two million trees, the revitalization of rivers with green corridors, and the redesign of public spaces like Skanderbeg Square, which has become the largest pedestrian area in the Balkans. According to The Guardian, these initiatives aim to reverse the sprawling urban chaos that followed the fall of communism and accommodate a population that has quadrupled since 1992, while prioritizing quality of life and accessibility.
At the heart of Tirana's transformation is a renewed focus on architecture as a tool for connection, combining cultural identity with contemporary design to create spaces that invite public interaction and engagement. Recent projects announced by renowned architects and international firms including Coldefy, OODA, Oppenheim Architecture, and CHYBIK + KRISTOF showcase a common thread of reimagining the rejuvinated city for the public. These designs emphasize social sustainability, cultural references, and accessible public spaces, redefining how residents and visitors experience Tirana's urban fabric. From mixed-use vertical villages and pedestrian-friendly streets to eco-conscious campuses and civic hubs, these new developments collectively highlight the city's ambition to position itself as a progressive model for urban renewal in the Balkans.
With escalating land values in urban centers, there has been a growing trend to float public spaces from ground level to elevated locations, such as rooftops or podiums between buildings. From a development perspective, maximizing floor area has become crucial as urban environments expand. Ground-level spaces are highly sought after for retail use due to their strategic location, which attracts foot traffic and potential customers and drives city development and economics.
This financial consideration, which often guides building activities and directions in urban centers, contradicts design principles advocated during the modernist era for the benefits of better outdoor space for the public, such as the concept of 'Freeing the Ground'. Architects like Le Corbusier championed this concept through projects like Villa Savoye and Unite d' Habitation. These modernist designs envisioned a future where buildings were elevated to restore open, accessible outdoor ground-level spaces for its users. However, for the reasons above, many contemporary projects instead seek to replicate the function of public grounds within the building's structure.
Courtesy of [applied] Foreign Affairs, Institute of Architecture, University of Applied Arts Vienna
Public Markets are complex cases that beautifully combine an engineering exploration with the instigation of a beneficial public function. In fact, it doesn't take much to designate an open and accessible commercial hub that would encourage commercial exchange and economic development for small or local businesses. All one needs is a lot and a sheltering roof. However, many designers and architects have chosen to take this exercise beyond the social level and into further material and technical exploration.
In a city, celebrating the act of walking has become a form of non-traditional planning. In the age of cars, challenging the dominance of vehicular transportation by championing the pedestrian experience is not very common. For this reason, pedestrian bridges worldwide stand as symbols of connectivity and architectural ingenuity. These soaring structures embody the urban experience for its core user: the pedestrian. Although the structures began as practical solutions to traffic management, they have evolved into iconic landmarks and pivotal components of city planning.
The significance of these projects represents a shift towards human-centric design in urban landscapes. The Kusugibashi Bridge in Japan, rebuilt by Kengo Kuma & Associates symbolizes resilience, while the Hangzhou Riverfront Public Space’s Silk Bridge showcases urban connectivity through revitalizing the waterfront. The Donnguan Central Area Slow-Traffic Bridge addresses connectivity and greenery, and SBE NV’s Vlasburg Bridge dedicates itself to enhanced water routes for the community. Collectively, these bridges drive urban revitalization into the future, emphasizing sustainability and integrating with community needs.
Despite the bad reputation of public housing in the United States, organizations, planners, and architects in Portland, Oregon are determined to create affordable housing that does not sacrifice quality or aesthetic appeal. While Portland has developed a bad reputation regarding its homelessness problem, in the past four years resources have flowed in the right direction, and designers have taken this in stride to design livable and striking buildings, within very restrictive budgets. Through innovative and creative approaches to construction and design, these organizations and designers have utilized federal, state, and city resources to make these types of projects a reality.
Social responsibility and the desire to improve society has long been influenced by the built environment. Looking at city centers, architecture has contributed to the improvement of the urban fabric, whether it being through planning and zoning strategies, integration of public spaces, or small interventions. In some cases however, these interventions are in fact used as tools to keep the homeless off the streets, disguised as art or conceptual designs. Several public urban policies have all implicitly prohibited the homeless and other marginalized social groups from city centers, claiming that their presence and “irregular” use of public space could compromise the reputation, security, and desirability of the city.
