Architecture—one of the few cultural artifacts made to be publicly lived with, preserved, and often capable of standing for centuries—contributes significantly to the cultural identity of places and people. Historically, buildings have expressed institutional attitudes, influence, and power; they are clear demonstrations of culture. Yet longevity complicates preservation: when a structure is rebuilt, repaired, or entirely reassembled, in what sense is it still the same building?
There's the classic Ship of Theseus puzzle from Plutarch. if a ship's planks are replaced one by one over time, is it still the same ship? Thomas Hobbes adds a twist—if the original planks are reassembled elsewhere, which ship is "the original"? The paradox tests what grounds identity: material fabric, continuous use and history, or shared recognition. In architecture and conservation, it reframes preservation as a choice among keeping matter, maintaining form and function, or sustaining the stories and practices that give a place meaning.
Monasticism emerged from a deep impulse to withdraw—a radical pursuit of spirituality and transcendence. The word itself comes from the Greek μόνος (mónos), meaning “alone,” reflecting the ideal of the holy hermit who retreats from the world to dedicate life entirely to the divine. By the late 3rd century, in Egypt and Palestine, the first Christian monks began to follow this path, creating ways of life that would later give rise to a distinct architecture centered on seclusion.
Near the center of Helsinki, Finland, in the Töölö neighborhood, one can find the Temppeliaukio Church, an unusual-looking Lutheran church nestled between granite rocks. Approaching the square from Fredrikinkatu street, the church appears subtly, a flat dome barely rising above its surrounding landscape. An unassuming entrance, flanked by concrete walls, leads visitors through a dark hallway, and into the light-filled sanctuary carved directly into the bedrock. The exposed rock walls earned it the alternative name “The Church of the Rock.” To contrast the heaviness of the materials, skylights surrounding the dome create a play of light and shadows and a feeling of airiness.
The church is the result of an architectural competition won by the architect brothers Timo and Tuomo Suomalainen in 1961. Their original solution was recognized not only for its creativity but also for the respect it showed to the competition’s goal: “to include the organization plan for the whole Temppeliaukio Square, taking into attention that as great part as possible of the rock outcrop of the square to be preserved.” The winning proposal achieves this by embedding the church inside the rock and placing parish facilities on the edges of the hillock. This article explores the story behind the Temppeliaukio Church both narratively and visually, through the lens of Aleksandra Kostadinovska, a professional photographer from Skopje.
The Cristo Rei Cathedral is Oscar Niemeyer's design for the cathedral of Belo Horizonte, the capital of the state of Minas Gerais in southeastern Brazil. Conceived between 2005 and 2006, it is one of the late architect's final projects in the country. The design features a domed structure approximately 60 meters in diameter, suspended by two towering elements rising 100 meters high. Niemeyer referred to the project as a "square," consisting of a cathedral with a capacity for 3,000 people and an external altar designed to accommodate up to 20,000 worshippers for mass and public events. Construction began in 2013 and is still ongoing. Earlier this year, photographer Paul Clemence visited the site, documenting the building process and capturing the emergence of Niemeyer's signature curves.
MVRDV and Zecc Architecten have won the competition to transform the St. Francis of Assisi Church in Heerlen into a public swimming pool. Originally built over 100 years ago, the church stopped hosting services in 2023, presenting the municipality with the opportunity to repurpose the building for community use. Nicknamed Holy Water, the adaptive reuse project is meant to give this listed national monument, with its recognizable silhouette, a new social function while preserving its historic elements. The design was created through a collaboration between MVRDV, Zecc Architecten, IMd Raadgevende Ingenieurs, Nelissen Ingenieursbureau, and construction economics consultancy SkaaL, and is expected to be completed at the end of 2027.
Religious architecture in Asia is evolving by incorporating modernist influences while preserving its spiritual essence. Clean lines, minimalist aesthetics, and materials like concrete, steel, and glass are a common sight. These interventions often replace or complement the intricate ornamentation and natural materials traditionally associated with sacred spaces in the region. This approach allows these structures to achieve a universal appeal while still reflecting their cultural and spiritual foundations.
Several examples highlight this blend of tradition and modernity. The Cloud of Luster Chapel in Japan uses slender columns and abundant natural light to create a luminous atmosphere, evoking Frank Lloyd Wright's Johnson Wax Building. The Temple of Steps in India incorporates cascading steps that emulate the traditional Ghats, combining cultural symbolism with Brutalist aesthetics. Similarly, the Water-Moon Monastery in Taiwan employs concrete, straight lines, and reflective pools in a manner influenced by Le Corbusier's Five Points of Architecture. Finally, the Jetavana Buddhist Temple in South Korea and the Upper Cloister in China integrate their layouts with the surrounding stone and hillside, drawing parallels to Wright's desert houses. Together, these projects demonstrate how Asian religious architecture is redefining sacred spaces through a modernist lens while honoring their traditional heritage.
As communities grow more multicultural and increasingly diverse, these spaces serve as physical manifestations of religious inclusion, encouraging the acceptance of religious and ethnic minorities within multicultural landscapes. Their proliferation reflects a growing need for inclusive environments that cater to diverse spiritual needs while promoting interfaith understanding. However, designing and implementing these spaces presents complex challenges, often sparking debates about representation, neutrality, and the very nature of sacred space. These discussions underscore the delicate balance architects must strike in creating spaces that are both universally welcoming and spiritually meaningful.
Throughout 2024, ArchDaily, in collaboration with the Open House Europe architecture event, brought inspiring projects and stories to light. These true architectural gems were unveiled through visits, and their widely shared narratives enriched the architectural discourse. It is an invitation to explore the stories behind buildings that, although part of citizens' daily lives, often go unnoticed amidst the routine automation of everyday life.
These narratives explored projects of different scales, uses, and contexts, revealing everything from religious buildings, to remarkable examples of adaptive reuse of old industrial structures, now taking on new roles within their communities. Each story uncovered the many layers that make up a building – from its initial design to the new meanings it has acquired over time.
Kéré Architecture has revealed the design of a masterplan and series of buildings dedicated to the cultural and spiritual heritage of the Ewé people in the town of Notsé, in Togo. Commissioned by the Kothor Foundation, the center incorporates a sanctuary, several temples, a large-scale open-air amphitheater, as well as cultural functions such as exhibition halls, an auditorium, restaurants, and a reconstruction of the ancient royal palace of the Ewé Kingdom. The project, Francis Kéré's first in Togo, started construction in October 2024 and is scheduled for completion in February 2026.
As a landmark of contemporary religious architecture in Portugal, the Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus stands in contrast to traditional models, representing a work free from historicist stigmas. Resulting from a design competition organized in 1960, the church is notable for its civic dimension, urban role, and its anti-monumental and social significance. Integrated into the regular grid of the Avenidas Novas neighborhood, this example of the Movement for the Renewal of Sacred Art is part of a larger parish complex that often goes unnoticed by passersby. Its external street creates an unexpected public space, inviting people to enter and engage in a courtyard where architecture and the city merge. Finely crafted in terms of spatiality, detail, and light, the church holds many surprises for those who venture inside.
Religious architecture has always had a unique power to transcend the physical realm, transporting visitors to a spiritual journey. In many belief systems, it serves as a space between the earthly and the universal divine. This designed experience can often be facilitated through different choices, where light, form, materiality, and circulation play essential roles. Furthermore, architecture and design hold the power to have a profound impact on one’s lived spiritual experience.
This exploration of religious architecture in the global south showcases the integration of tradition and contemporary innovation. Whether it’s the Omani Mosque, where heritage and Islamic tradition are honored, or the Abrahamic Family House that features a mosque, a church, and a synagogue in dialogue and coexistence. Form and public access are explored through a design in Brazil, while a monastery in Uganda expands its size to serve guests and novitiate.
Studio Libeskind, working in close partnership with the Memorialization Working Group, has unveiled the preliminary design for the memorial for the 11 killed on 27 October 2018 at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, United States. The design was developed in a process led by the victims’ families, communal leaders, and concretional representatives. The building’s official groundbreaking is expected in 2024.
Though lesser known, the Hungarian city of Veszprém is one of the oldest and most important cities in the country. Designated as the European Union Capital of Culture for 2023, Veszprém boasts a longstanding history, visible through its evolving, yet well-preserved architectural monuments. In fact, one of the first notable observations as one walks through the city streets is its eclecticism and layers of historically diverse buildings, that sporadically arise. Despite the difference in styles and architectural languages, they collectively tell the story of the county and its spiritual and political relevance. Its pedestrian-friendly streets, many parks and public spaces, connect the Veszprém monuments, as one delves into a historic promenade.
Designed by Skidmore, Owings & Merrill (SOM), the new American Buddhist Cultural Society Temple, also known as the San Bao Temple, has broken ground in San Francisco, California. Located on Van Ness Avenue, the new six-story facility will include a community center, a Buddhist shrine, and a meditation room on the upper levels, along with three levels of private dormitories for visiting monastics and volunteers. In the center of the building, a light-filled atrium offers additional amenities, such as a public art gallery, bookstore, teahouse, and community gathering hall. The temple is expected to open by the end of 2024.
The significance of daylight in volumes of space exceeds its function of illumination. Light is a creative tool manipulated by architects to infuse a space with a metaphysical spirit, influencing the emotional states of its occupants. Having a phenomenological effect on the human psyche, light and shadow have been played with to invoke a sense of divinity and spirituality into the character of religious buildings. The interplay between architecture and light is a powerful one, shaping a deeper experience of spirituality.
If one were asked to picture a Catholic Church, the first image to come to mind would probably resemble a medieval gothic cathedral with buttresses, pointed arches, and a spire pointing toward the sky. On second thought, many more styles could easily be identified as catholic architecture: the simple yet grandiose structures of the Romanesque or maybe the ornate styles of Baroque and Rococo. An image more difficult to associate with sacred architecture is that of Modernism. The Roman Catholic Church is a particularly conservative establishment. Modernism, on the other hand, is revolutionary; it is rational, functional, and technical; it rejects ornaments and embraces innovation. Surprisingly, in the years after the end of the Second World War, places of worship defied expectations. Blocks of concrete, raw materials, angular shapes, and exposed structures have all been employed to break from tradition and create churches that barely resemble a church. This article will explore Modernist mid-century Church architecture with the support of images from Jamie McGregor Smith.
It is easy to show cool images of adaptive reuse. The contrast of living history and control over it makes for dynamic visuals. But there is a deeper meaning to adaptive reuse. Architecture embodies humanity and humanity changes, so our buildings change.
