Countryside: A Place to Live, Not to Leave by AMO / OMA presents an exploration of contemporary life beyond the city, examining how rural territories adapt to global transformation. Conceived under the direction of Rem Koolhaas and Samir Bantal, with Yotam Ben Hur as project architect, the exhibition is presented by Qatar Museums in collaboration with the Qatar Fund for Development (QFFD), the Ministry of Environment and Climate Change (MoECC), Hassad Food, and Kahramaa. It is hosted across two venues in Doha, the Qatar Preparatory School and the National Museum of Qatar, and remains accessible to the public until June 30, 2026.
Tourism in Portugal began to develop in the late 1950s, initially centered on key destinations such as the Algarve coast, Lisbon, and the religious hub of Fátima. This focus made tourism largely a coastal activity. However, rapid growth and overburdened infrastructure in these areas led to saturation and a crisis in the sector. To address this, efforts were made to promote alternative destinations, appealing to a new wave of tourists looking for more sustainable, authentic, and locally immersive experiences.
Spaces of hospitality are a mirror to how different cultures articulate generosity, care, belonging, and identity. In busy city settings, this is reflected in hotels, service systems, and curated amenities that directly shape the visitor experience. These spaces translate care into measurable forms, where success is correlated with efficiency, luxury, and brand identity.
The island of Taiwan presents a varied natural and topographical context, characterized by a land area of 36,197 square kilometers and a high population density of 644 people per square kilometer. Its geological location, situated on the edges of the Eurasian and Philippine Sea plates, has resulted in a predominantly mountainous and rugged topography. While this forces the majority of the 23 million residents to inhabit large urban centers on the western coastal plains, the island maintains an active agricultural sector, with approximately 22% of its land allocated to farming.
Today, on the first Monday of October, we celebrate World Architecture Day. This year, the International Union of Architects (UIA) has set the theme "Design for Strength," a powerful call to action that resonates deeply with the UN's focus on urban crisis response. In a world facing unprecedented environmental and social disruptions, this theme challenges us to move beyond temporary fixes. It asks: How can our buildings and cities not only withstand shocks but also foster equity, continuity, and resilience?
While the concept of strength in architecture can easily evoke images of reinforced concrete and steel, a more profound interpretation is emerging, one that defines strength not as mere rigidity, but as a holistic capacity to endure and adapt. This includes many facets, from ecological resilience and stewardship to long-lasting concepts of social resilience or the long-lasting conservation of existing urban structures, all contributing to a built environment more able to respond to the multitude of crises faced by cities worldwide.
While Hong Kong is widely celebrated for its iconic harbor view, glittering skyline, and fast-paced urban lifestyle, its origins tell a different story—one deeply rooted in its relationship with water. Before transforming into a dense, vertical metropolis, Hong Kong's architectural identity was closely tied to its maritime context. Today, the city is often associated with slender, glass-clad towers that symbolize modernity. While visually striking in their pursuit of height and form, many of these buildings appear disconnected from their immediate environment, often overlooking natural site conditions, ecological responsiveness, and contextual sensitivity.
Historically, however, this was not the case. Hong Kong's earliest built environments—rural fishing villages in areas like Tai O, Aberdeen, and Shau Kei Wan—emerged through organic, community-driven spatial practices that engaged closely with their surroundings. These coastal and riverside settlements developed architectural systems tailored to the marine environment and to the rhythms of fishing life. Villages were sited around water, and construction strategies were adapted to fluctuating tides, terrain, and social use.
Facing an interconnected planetary climate crisis, biodiversity loss, and resource depletion, regenerative design emerges as a pathway toward building resilient and ecologically attuned rural futures. At the intersection of architecture, agriculture, and local ecosystems, new models of resilient, self-sufficient agricultural practices are emerging. These projects are not grand industrial systems but small-scale, precise, and deeply contextual architectural interventions that create spaces that foster sustainable cultivation while respecting environmental rhythms, local materials, and community knowledge.
Rural areas have long played a foundational role in the social and economic development of nations. Until the 18th century, they were the primary sites of production and social organization. However, the Industrial Revolution brought profound structural shifts that reshaped this landscape. Industry took center stage, anchoring itself in urban environments and establishing a hierarchical, binary view of rural versus urban, agriculture versus industry. Within this new paradigm, two opposing narratives gained prominence: one predicted the decline of rural life in the face of urbanization and economic progress; the other envisioned its persistence and eventual renewal. Today, it is clear which of these predictions has come to pass.
In 1982, at a conference on earth building in Tucson, Arizona, an unusual presentation challenged everything architects thought they knew about rural resources. Instead of focusing on construction techniques, the presenter, architect Pliny Fisk III, spread out a series of hand-drawn maps that revealed something extraordinary - rural Texas wasn't resource-poor, as conventional wisdom suggested, but material-rich beyond imagination. The maps showed volcanic ash perfect for lightweight concrete, caliche deposits stretching across vast territories, and mesquite forests that could supply both hardwood flooring and insulation. The revelation redefined prevailing notions of value in architecture.
One notable example is Tai Hang, among the earlier settlements established by the Hakka people in Hong Kong. Originally located along a water channel that flowed from the nearby mountains to the sea, the area was once a vital washing site for villagers—hence its name, which literally means "Big Drainage." Before extensive land reclamation, Tai Hang sat quite close to the shoreline. Today, it lies nearly 700 meters inland.
The desire to see the world from above transcends cultures and time — an almost instinctive impulse to seek new horizons, gain perspective, and momentarily step outside everyday life. Observation towers embody that desire: built in forests, mountains, urban parks, or coastal landscapes, they invite us to pause, look closely, and discover the surroundings in a quiet or playful way. These structures offer more than just views; they offer experiences. As we climb their steps or ramps, our bodies take part in a ritual of transition — from ground to sky.
What structures and infrastructures sustain the ties and relationships between the countryside and the city? How will architecture and emerging technologies maintain -or not- the coexistence of both worlds in the future? The reduction of ecological footprints, the impact of climate change, the decentralization of major cities, food security, and other contemporary issues challenge professionals in architecture and urbanism globally under the main shared goal of improving citizens’ quality of life and achieving physical, mental, and emotional well-being in both built and natural environments.
In an effort to foster a sense of belonging among its inhabitants, to value ancestral cultures, and to preserve identity, the Latin American region embraces an architecture rich in nuances and regional characteristics. The use of local materials and construction techniques, or the dialogue between modular and vernacular approaches, among other aspects, reflect the intention to promote the involvement of native communities, students and their families, Iindigenous peoples, and local builders in the design and construction processes of a wide variety of rural schools throughout Latin America.
The architecture of cultural and community centers in rural areas around the world has become a rich field for experimentation, where tradition and innovation intersect. Rather than replicating standardized urban models, these projects embrace contemporary approaches tailored to local realities, blending bold design, sustainable technologies, and collaborative processes. Often developed in close partnership with local communities, they draw on regional materials and cultural symbols to create spaces that do more than host activities: they express a collective identity and a profound sense of belonging. By reimagining vernacular knowledge through a modern lens, these buildings support and inspire new ways of living in the countryside.
As educational institutions around the world adapt to shifting societal needs, the architecture of learning is also evolving. This curated selection brings together projects submitted by the global ArchDaily community, highlighting how architects are rethinking the future of schools and universities through design. These proposals reflect pressing global concerns: the importance of community-centerededucation, the revitalization of historical buildings and neighborhoods, the integration of natural systems, and the search for spatial expressions that accommodate both formal instruction and informal exchange. Whether situated in dense urban centers, rural villages, or coastal landscapes, these projects respond to specific cultural and environmental contexts while engaging with broader architectural questions about sustainability, access, and identity.
Selected as one of ArchDaily's Best New Practices for 2024, Mix Architecture bases in Nanjing, China, took their approaches honed from rural China to the city, dealing with projects across different scales that stay true to the identity of the communities they work in, but with a contemporary character that is dealing with projects across different scales that stay true to the identity of the communities they work in, but with a contemporary character that is setting the bar for Chinese architecture. They responded sincerely to the site, to the construction, to the functional needs, and to the expression of sociality. From the name of their studio, one can observe that they are an inclusive design studio.
In an interview with ArchDaily, they summarise their design practice as 'the evolution of scenery', each time drawing design information from the site, not just responding to nature or culture, but becoming part of the landscape. This allows even the casual viewer without a professional background in architecture to perceive the atmosphere created by the design. Treating architecture as a social event, each design maximizes the use of local resources under limited conditions to bring about a relatively good result, responding to the environment, the cultural heritage, the materials, the craftsmanship of the workers, the type of function of the space and the real needs of the owner.
