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.
Located on a farm in southern India, the Rice Museum occupies the upper floor of Syed Ghani's home, nestled in the verdant agricultural landscape of Mandya — a region shaped by brick structures, expansive greenery, and ancestral farming knowledge. Syed Ghani, a farmer, historian, and museologist, has dedicated himself to preserving indigenous rice varieties through seed conservation, proliferation, and educational initiatives. With the support of local farmers, he has helped recover more than 1,000 native paddy (rice) varieties, safeguarding an essential part of India's agricultural heritage.
NDSM Lusthof / Studio Ossidiana. Image Courtesy of Studio Ossidiana, Riccardo de Vecchi
As climate instability reshapes design priorities, architecture is increasingly drawn into ecological debates not as a spectator but as a participant. Among the concepts gaining traction is rewilding, a practice rooted in the restoration of self-sustaining ecosystems through the reintroduction of biodiversity, the removal of barriers, and the rebalancing of human presence in the landscape. Though often associated with conservation biology, rewilding also opens up new spatial and architectural imaginaries — ones that challenge conventional notions of permanence, authorship, and use.
Buildings are physical, static, and permanent. To imagine them otherwise often requires some creative thinking. The industry has operated with this strong association between structures and permanence, unknowingly constraining perspectives on building life cycles. Innovations in building materials have opened up avenues for cirular design that challenge the long-held notion that buildings must endure indefinitely. Emerging approaches promote architecture that ebbs and flows with nature.
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.
Kampung Admiralty / Ramboll Studio Dreiseitl + WOHA. Image Courtesy of WOHA
Ebenezer Howard's verdant visions for cities have spread eastwards, far beyond his British roots. In the 1900s, city planning welcomed the Garden City Movement as a champion of good design - a response to Western industrial urbanization. Soon, Asian cities conceived their archetypes, juggling local constraints in climate and density. Designs and development, from colonial-era experiments to contemporary mega-projects, have embraced and reinvented Howard's vision well into the 21st century.
Osaka Expo 2025 Japan Pavilion / Nikken Sekkei. Image Courtesy of Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry
In certain parts of the world, construction is still dominated by wet systems—concrete, masonry, and cementitious materials that are poured, cured, and fixed in place. While this has long been considered the norm in some south-east Asia countries, such as Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, and China, in most of these regions, they typically share a common trend where labor is relatively inexpensive. This serves as one of the reasons to make concrete more easily available, as one of the typical downside of concrete is its intensive labour cost - this further differentiates concrete as a cheaper and more efficient material system to be building out of.
However, not enough considerations in the region are given to the sustainability aspect when using these wet construction materials,often overlooking the significant drawbacks of its material lifecycle and the difficulty to recycle it without downcycling - making it one of the more unsustainable materials available to be built out of.
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.
View of Howl's Moving Castle Replica inside the Valley of Witches area . Image via ghibli-park.jp, under policy of fair use
Studio Ghibli and its co-founder Hayao Miyazaki have become household names in the West, thanks to their impressive body of work, which includes over 10 feature films, 2 Oscars, and more than 100 awards worldwide. Films such as "Spirited Away" and "Howl's Moving Castle" showcase their mastery of world-building, story telling and compelling visuals which have earned them global acclaim. This has created a devoted fan base that previously only had the Studio Ghibli Museum in Tokyo to experience the films in real life. As the studio's popularity and movie portfolio grew, it became inevitable for them to expand into a larger space. That is why November 2022 marked the beginning of a new phase as the Ghibli Park opened its gates in Nagoya, Japan.
Located in southern Spain, Seville unfolds as a layered city shaped by centuries of cultural intersections. As the former capital of Al-Andalus and a central port during the Spanish Empire's expansion, its built environment reflects a deep historical complexity. From Roman foundations to Islamic geometries, from Renaissance palaces to contemporary interventions, Seville presents a unique spatial narrative in which architecture directly reflects its political, religious, and social transformations.
The city's architectural heritage is inseparable from its climate and geography. Narrow shaded streets, inner courtyards, and water as spatial elements reveal a deep knowledge of environmental adaptation that still informs how public and private spaces are articulated today. While monumental landmarks such as the Alcázar, the Giralda, or the Cathedral preserve and reinterpret historic legacies, modern projects have begun introducing new materials, programs, and spatial typologies, challenging conventional forms and proposing alternative ways to inhabit the city.
Adaptive reuse has become a buzzword in the architecture industry. Framed as a sustainable and economical solution to urban decay, the practice has been adopted by cities facing pressures of climate change, real estate constraints, and cultural preservation. Architects are increasingly being hired to rehabilitate the old rather than build anew. Within this discourse is a growing sentiment towards who gets to reuse and how.
In recent years, architecture has increasingly embraced adaptability, flexibility, and responsiveness as core design principles. This evolution reflects a shift from traditional notions of static, permanent structures to dynamic environments that can adjust to changing needs and conditions. Central to this transformation is the concept of "soft architecture", which leverages pliable materials and innovative systems to create spaces that are functional, sustainable, and user-centric. Soft architecture takes shape through membranes that breathe, façades that move, structures that inflate or fold, and surfaces that bend rather than break. It involves designing for transformation — not only in how a building performs environmentally, but also in how it can accommodate shifting functions, user interactions, or temporary occupations. This approach to building challenges traditional notions of durability and control, proposing instead a more responsive and open-ended architecture. It reflects a growing awareness that buildings, like the societies they serve, must be able to evolve.
The Canada Pavilion at the 19th International Architecture Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia, hosted Picoplanktonics. A research that emerged as a radical rethinking of how architecture can become a platform that blends biology, computation, and fabrication to propose an alternative future, one where buildings don't just minimize harm, but actively participate in planetary repair. At its core lies a humble organism: marine cyanobacteria, capable of both capturing carbon and contributing to the material growth of the structure it inhabits. The project has been developed over 5 years by a group of researchers at ETH Zurich, led by Andrea Shin Ling and a group of interdisciplinary contributors and collaborators. Together, they formed the Living Room Collective, founded a year ago to build upon this work and showcase it at the Venice Biennale. The Core team members include Nicholas Hoban, Vincent Hui, and Clayton Lee. This conversation with the team behind the project shares the philosophy, technical challenges, and speculative horizons that animated their work from printing living sand lattices to maintaining microbial life in a public exhibition. Their aim is to inspire people to reconsider architecture not as a static object, but as a living, evolving process. One that requires care, patience, and a radical shift in mindset.
In the United States, nearly 1 in 10 children are affected with asthma, a condition with rates significantly higher in urban areas of the country. However, in a community just outside Atlanta with a population of more than 300 children, not a single case of the condition has been reported. This is by design. Most cities and neighborhoods across the country are not designed with human biology in mind, an oversight that contributes to the growing prevalence of cardiovascular disease and mental health challenges. Are we treating chronic conditions as purely medical, when they may actually be symptoms of poor design?
In partnership with the European Cultural Center (ECC), ArchDaily has launched its inaugural exhibition as part of the seventh iteration of Time Space Existence, an architectural showcase occurring concurrently with the 19th VeniceArchitecture Biennale. Open from May 10 to November 23, 2025, in various locations throughout Venice, this edition centers on the theme of "Repair, Regenerate, and Reuse," promoting innovative and sustainable approaches in architecture. ArchDaily's contribution is located at Palazzo Mora, complementing other venues like Palazzo Bembo, Marinaressa Gardens, and Palazzo Michiel.
SL500 Sliding Door System. Image Courtesy of ASSA ABLOY
Throughout history, doors—and later automatic doors—have served a far greater purpose than merely marking an entrance or exit. They define thresholds, guide the flow of movement, and subtly shape the way people interact within a space. We can trace their evolution back to the 1st century, when Heron of Alexandria devised a steam-powered door—an early example of technology merging with architecture. Since then, contactless automatic door systems have incorporated technological advancements that enhance operation and redefine their role within buildings. Today, they are integrated across a range of building types and scales, acting as transitional elements that enhance comfort, energy efficiency, and the overall quality of indoor spaces.
https://www.archdaily.com/1029498/the-greener-future-of-automatic-door-systems-a-shift-in-design-and-performanceEnrique Tovar
Asaan Museum, Render by Specto-Digital. Image Courtesy of ZHA
Designed by Zaha Hadid Architects, construction works for the Asaan Museum have recently begun. Located in the historic At-Turaif district of Diriyah, Saudi Arabia, the Asaan Museum aims to be a new cultural institution designed to preserve and celebrate the nation's heritage. Deriving its name from the Arabic word meaning "inheritance passed down through generations," Asaan underscores its role in connecting past and present. Situated within a site renowned for its mud-brick architecture and centuries-old urban fabric, the museum draws inspiration from traditional Najdi building techniques. Planned to be constructed using locally sourced clay mud-bricks, Asaan Museum will mark Zaha Hadid Architects' first project to employ adobe construction.
