Architecture has traditionally been described as a discipline concerned with space, form, and material presence. Yet this understanding becomes increasingly limited when confronted with the conditions that shape contemporary construction. Buildings no longer emerge from a stable relationship between site, program, and material. Instead, they are produced within a dense web of technological systems that operate across territorial, ecological, and temporal scales. Energy networks, data infrastructures, extraction processes, and global logistics shape architecture as decisively as climate or urban context.
Seen from this angle, architecture is less a discrete object than a moment within a larger technical field. Supply chains, data systems, automated maintenance, and energy grids do not sit "behind" the built environment. In a certain way, they influence what can be built, what is affordable, how buildings perform over time, and what kinds of waste they produce. When architecture is assessed primarily through form, it risks overlooking the systems that condition its production and afterlife.
Mishing traditional bamboo house, Majuli . Photo by Rumi Borah. License Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International
Across India's varied geographies, from coastal backwaters to desert fortress cities, architecture evolved with a deep, instinctive connection to climate. These were not isolated craft traditions but complete ecological systems in which material cycles, thermal comfort, and community knowledge were interdependent. As COP30 turns global attention toward the links between heritage and climate resilience, India's vernacular practices appear less as historical artifacts and more as climate technologies refined over centuries.
The Holcim Foundation for Sustainable Construction has announced the Grand Prize Winners of the 2025 Holcim Awards, selecting one project from each global region to represent the most impactful approaches to sustainable design in this cycle. This edition marks the introduction of the Grand Prize format, replacing the previous tiered distinctions to better acknowledge diverse regional contexts and avoid hierarchical rankings. Evaluated by juries chaired by Sou Fujimoto (Asia Pacific), Kjetil Trædal Thorsen (Europe), Sandra Barclay (Latin America), Lina Ghotmeh (Middle East and Africa), and Jeanne Gang (North America), the winning projects reflect the Foundation's principles of holistic, transformational, and transferable design.
In the low-lying deltas of Bangladesh, water defines both life and loss. Every year, millions are forced to rebuild after floods wash away their homes, crops, and livelihoods. In these precarious territories, the act of building has become an act of resilience. It is here that Khudi Bari emerges as a modest yet radical proposal. Designed by Marina Tabassum Architects, the project provides a lightweight, modular, and affordable dwelling for communities displaced by climate change. Recognized as one of the winners of the 2025 Aga Khan Award for Architecture, it represents a form of architecture that empowers rather than imposes.
Rapid urbanization, driven by population growth, is among the powerful megatrends transforming how cities are built. The world is adding a city the size of Madrid every single week — and will do so for decades to come. To meet this demand sustainably, a collaborative, systems-thinking approach to construction is needed.
Across Asia, bamboo scaffolding has symbolized an intersection of traditional knowledge and modern construction. Hong Kong's skyline is shaped by intricate bamboo scaffolding, yet this time-honored craft is steadily vanishing from the region. Moving east, Indian cities still utilize bamboo scaffolding on building sites throughout the subcontinent, revealing a different kind of paradox.
What if we imagined buildings as living systems, designed for assembly and disassembly with minimal impact? A form of open, modular, and adaptable architecture designed to evolve with its surroundings, responding to seasonal changes and on-demand needs instead of remaining static. At first glance, the idea seems paradoxical, as many buildings were constructed to last, designed to endure, resist the effects of time, and avoid demolition. Because of this, reversing or undoing could be seen as a setback. But what if that way of thinking no longer fits every scenario?
https://www.archdaily.com/1031388/built-to-not-last-how-reversible-architecture-is-redefining-the-way-we-buildEnrique Tovar
The installation and exhibition representing Estonia at the 19th International Architecture Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia is curated by architects Keiti Lige, Elina Liiva, and Helena Männa. Titled Let Me Warm You, the national exhibition explores different dimensions of sustainability by questioning whether insulation-driven renovations in Estonia are simply compliance measures to meet European energy targets or whether they can also serve as opportunities to enhance the spatial and social quality of mass housing districts. To make this point, the Estonian installation covers the façade of a Venetian building with insulation panels, replicating how they are commonly installed in Estonia for mass housing renovations.
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.
Material intelligence refers to how materials perform, adapt, and interact with ecological and cultural systems. It considers how stone, steel, or timber respond to intertangled forces, how those materials are sourced and assembled, and how they persist after demolition. Designers are centering material intelligence in constructing our cities in a generation of environmental uncertainty and strained supply chains.
Educational infrastructure is key to any community. The better the quality of these spaces, the better the learning experience for those who use them. However, these facilities often serve a much broader purpose than just education. In Global South communities, in countries like Peru or Vietnam, where a significant portion of the population lives in rural areas far from urban centers, there are few educational spaces and a lack of places where the entire community—not just the students—can come together.
Santuario de la Naturaleza Humedal Río Maipo.. Image Courtesy of Fundación Cosmos
On Earth Day 2025, observed annually on April 22, we are once again reminded of the urgent environmental and sustainability challenges that face our planet—challenges that continue to evolve alongside global economic, political, and cultural shifts. The building and construction industry remains one of the most critical sectors in the effort to manage and reduce global carbon emissions. This year, these issues are being addressed through increasingly diverse lenses, calling for more holistic and integrated approaches. It's vital that we view sustainability not as a one-size-fits-all solution, but as a multi-scalar effort—one that spans from large-scale urban development and strategic planning, to the advancement of sustainable materials, and even to temporary, thought-provoking interventions like exhibitions and installations. In doing so, we reaffirm our commitment to reducing our collective carbon footprint, while shaping a built environment that promotes human well-being and planetary health.
The decision to lift a building off the ground is a technical maneuver that requires substantial planning, expertise, and careful consideration. It is a deliberate architectural response to the site's forces and fragilities. Floodplains, wetlands, and thawing tundra share a common thread: Architects reconcile risk and vulnerability through elevated structures. In this sense, it is a spatial response and a structural necessity.
How can architecture professionals transform the atmosphere of a structure? What kinds of interventions can go beyond adaptive reuse to modify spatial perception? As architectural structures are repurposed over time, new uses and needs emerge between spaces and their users. While the structures of old buildings keep the memory of communities alive, the introduction of new life through greenhouses, housing, commerce, offices, or cultural centers brings about new atmospheres where light, ventilation, the integration of nature, and other elements reshape interior experiences.
