Amid the rapid build-out of data centres and AI economies across the Greater Bay Area—and alongside the celebration of AI as a tool and "author," as featured in 2025 Hong Kong–Shenzhen Bi-City Biennale of Urbanism\Architecture (Hong Kong)—a parallel question becomes unavoidable: how do the planning and construction of AI infrastructure actually begin to shape everyday life? Many of the facilities already built remain intentionally distant from daily experience. The "cloud" may be marketed as immaterial, but its architecture is profoundly physical: high-power, high-heat, service-heavy environments that are often sited in remote or low-density areas to take advantage of lower land costs and to minimize friction with nearby communities. Security and risk management further reinforce this logic. Data centres hold sensitive, privileged information—corporate assets, legal records, government and institutional data—and remoteness becomes part of their operating model, keeping the infrastructures of AI both spatially and socially out of sight.
Rendering of the Gateway via Flickr under license CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. Image Courtesy of NASA
The concept of the technosphere provides a framework for understanding the scale of human impact on Earth. The term was coined by Peter K. Haff, and it is defined as the global network of human-made artifacts: a physical layer of infrastructure, buildings, vehicles, and machinery that functions alongside the biosphere and atmosphere. Currently estimated at 30 trillion tons, this human-constructed mass is dominated by the built environment. In this context, architecture serves as the primary interface, shaping how technology interacts with local ecologies. However, it seems that soon, the Technosphere will no longer be confined to the terrestrial surface. Through NASA's Artemis program, this network of human-made mass is expanding beyond Earth's atmosphere and is looking to establish new orbital infrastructure that represents the first permanent off-world extension of this man-made system.
By exploring the art of robotics in construction, advances in architectural technologies are increasingly shaping multiple aspects of human life. From robotic arms and drones to robots that move across large surfaces and even 3D printing robots, their use in construction is accelerating research and the development of new working methods, as well as structural and material experimentation. In collaboration with multiple disciplines and spanning various facets of architecture, the role of robots in the contemporary landscape demonstrates a potential that extends beyond merely automating processes or reducing construction times and costs. This raises the question: Are we building architecture to serve technology, or technology to serve architecture?
For centuries, large-scale infrastructure operated in the background. Ports, power plants, and energy facilities were positioned at the edges of cities, designed primarily for efficiency, and rarely considered part of civic life. Their function was indispensable, yet their architectural presence remained secondary. These structures supported urban growth and global exchange while maintaining a spatial distance from everyday urban experience.
Today, this condition is gradually shifting. As global trade intensifies and energy systems expand in complexity, the buildings that coordinate and house these networks are becoming more visible within the urban landscape. Rather than remaining neutral containers for technical operations, they begin to assert spatial identity. Infrastructure is no longer only operational; it is increasingly institutional, symbolic, and urban. The architecture that supports these systems now participates in how cities project themselves.
Far from the perception of the exhibition space as a sterile and untouchable, almost sacred place, the contemporary technology museum has emerged as a performative participant in the systems it seeks to document. The architecture of these institutions has become increasingly fluid and bold, often mirroring the velocity and complexity of the systems it houses. They operate as mediators between the human, the ecological, and the technological realms, transforming from encyclopedic warehouses into active educational engines. By spatializing complex scientific data through immersive rooms, these structures make the technological networks of our world accessible, engaging, and tangible.
How heavy is a house? In his 1965 essay A Home Is Not a House, Reyner Banham observed that modern American dwellings were becoming structurally lighter while growing heavier in mechanical services, such as plumbing, wiring, heating, and cooling. The true weight of architecture, he argued, was no longer in walls and roofs, but in the energy-intensive systems that sustained comfort.
Decades later, the question was updated at the 7th Lisbon Architecture Triennale. Curators Ann-Sofi Rönnskog and John Palmesino asked: How heavy is a city? The scale shifted from the domestic interior to the territory. The technosphere, materialized in the estimated 30 trillion tons of human-made matter on Earth, reframes the discussion entirely. Cities, data centers, oil fields, logistics hubs, satellites, cables, and waste streams form a planetary system in which architecture is neither object nor backdrop, but participant.
Not long ago, recent enough to feel current, architecture entered a moment in which buildings became legible as products. The framing offered discipline and a refreshed perspective to an industry that often deems novelty more precious than operational clarity. Nudging exercises of "form" towards repeatability, user experience, performance, and scalability prepared buildings to be a "product" that could now be evaluated. Architecture is more answerable to how well it works, how clearly it communicates its use, and how consistently it delivers its intended experience.
The discipline of product design refreshes the perspectives of architects designing for a changing future. Along with offering a new vocabulary and a rubric for design, the field brings in accountability: a product must perform reliably across time and context. It must hold together as a system of decisions rather than a collection of parts. Quality, therefore, is no longer measured solely by uniqueness, but by consistency and by the ability to produce a predictable experience for its occupants.
MVRDVhas started construction on the EU TUMO Convergence Center, a new educational and research facility in Yerevan, Armenia. Located in Tumanyan Park, the five-story building will expand TUMO's campus, providing spaces for free technology and creative education for teenagers and adults, alongside research and co-working areas for technology and design companies. Positioned on a hilly outcrop above the Hrazdan River Gorge, the project responds to the surrounding topography while establishing visual connections with the city, the gorge, and Mount Ararat. Construction officially commenced on 24 February, with local and international representatives in attendance.
Founded by Oliver Thomas, the ATN Summit is the first flagship conference of the Archi-Tech Network, marking five years since the platform began as a grassroots initiative to share real-world architectural knowledge. Taking place on March 18–19, 2026, in London, the ATN Summit brings together architects, technologists, and industry innovators to explore how emerging technologies are reshaping architectural practice. Designed as a high-production, ideas-driven event, the Summit reflects ATN's evolution from an informal online conversation into a global platform actively engaging with the future of the built environment.
Founded by Senegalese architect Nzinga Mboup and French architect Nicolas Rondet, Worofila is a studio dedicated to bioclimatic and ecological architecture. Based in Dakar, Senegal, the firm explores the potential of vernacular materials like earth bricks and typha, applying modern techniques to create effective construction solutions. Their work addresses key issues of the environment, sustainability, and urbanization, merging traditional materials with innovative practices.
In this interview, Nzinga and Nicolas share their vision for a distinctly African modernity that integrates contemporary methods with traditional knowledge and resources. They advocate for a development approach that not only meets immediate needs but also empowers communities and fosters meaningful, long-term progress. Their insights provide a compelling perspective on how architecture can drive a more sustainable and contextually relevant future for African cities.
The ATN Summit is a bold new conference at the intersection of architecture, technology, and entrepreneurship. Taking place in London on 18–19 March 2026, the summit brings together leading architects, technologists, innovators, and AEC influencers for two days of visionary talks, hands-on workshops, and meaningful networking.
The 2025 Osaka Expo has captured widespread attention—not only for its architectural ambition and spectacle, but also for breaking records and generating controversy. Its most iconic feature, a monumental timber ring designed by Sou Fujimoto, has already made headlines as a Guinness World Record-breaking wooden structure. Built on the reclaimed island of Yumeshima, the site has attracted praise and critique in equal measure. Beyond its awe-inspiring 2-kilometer circumference—parts of which extend dramatically over the water—the structure has also drawn concerns, including questions about health & safety, extreme heat, and swarms of insects that may affect the visitor experience.
This year also marks a significant anniversary: the 55th year since the 1970 Osaka Expo, held under drastically different socio-economic conditions. Comparing these two expos—both hosted in the same city—offers a rare opportunity to reflect on how the rhetoric, curatorial themes, and architectural ambitions of world expos have evolved over time. From "Progress and Harmony for Mankind" in 1970 to "Designing Future Society for Our Lives" in 2025, the shift in thematic focus reveals changing global priorities. Meanwhile, the scale and nature of architectural involvement have also transformed, from the futuristic visions of Japanese Metabolism to a more internationally dispersed group of designers concerned with sustainability, technology, and civic engagement.
Construction has officially broken ground on Tokyo's new global headquarters for NTT, a major Japanese technology company. The project is a key component of PLP Architecture's Tokyo Cross Park masterplan, a large-scale regeneration development in the Tokyo metropolitan area, first announced in 2022. On December 5, 2025, construction began on the first stage of the scheme, one of four towers planned within the masterplan. The NTT Hibiya Tower, designed by PLP Architecture and developed by NTT Urban Development in collaboration with Tokyo Electric Power Company, is a 230-metre-tall, 361,000-square-metre mixed-use building and forms the central element of the 1.1-million-square-metre Tokyo Cross Park Vision. PLP Architecture serves as Design Architect for the tower, as well as Masterplanner and Placemaking Strategist for the wider development.
'Architecture of Possibility: Zaha Hadid Architects' at MOCAUP Shenzhen. December 2025 - April 2026. Image Courtesy of MOCAUP
"Architecture of Possibility: Zaha Hadid Architects" at the Museum of Contemporary Art and Urban Planning (MOCAUP) in Shenzhen, China, presents a comprehensive overview of the evolution of Zaha Hadid Architects' work over recent decades. On view until April 10, 2026, the exhibition is structured through chronological and thematic narratives that highlight the studio's multidisciplinary research and design methodologies. The exhibition, now open to the public, showcases the office's work in the Shenzhen area and its involvement with new Artificial Intelligence technologies. Particular emphasis is placed on the integration of artificial intelligence (AI), immersive and interactive design tools, and virtual environments, which together form an expanding digital design ecosystem.
In 2025, the architectural field has been marked by a dense calendar of exhibitions, a measured slowdown in construction across multiple regions, and a period of reflection that scrutinizes the impact of intelligence (artificial and natural)—both on professional practice and workplace culture, as well as its use as a pedagogical tool. Over this calendar year, ArchDaily has published more than 30 interviews in a range of formats—Q&As, in-person conversations, video features, and more. These exchanges have engaged themes of sustainability and nature, housing and urban development, AI and intelligence, adaptive reuse and public life, and have closely followed major exhibition platforms including the Venice Biennale, Expo 2025 Osaka, Milan Design Week, Concéntrico, and others.
The prestigious BAUMunich, the world's leading trade fair for architecture, materials, and systems, served as the stage for Orama Minimal Frames' latest innovations in architectural frame technology. The exhibition offered a platform for industry connections and showcased advancements that challenge conventional boundaries in frame design.
The future of cities has long been defined by intelligence: networks of sensors, data, and engineered systems. From traffic-flow algorithms to climate dashboards, the smart city promised to make urban life optimized, measurable, and predictable. Yet amid this technological abundance, something essential feels absent: sensitivity. Cities are becoming increasingly equipped to process information but less able to perceive atmosphere, emotion, or care.
As recent global debates on urban innovation reveal, the next challenge is not about adding more devices but cultivating new forms of awareness. A sensitive city listens to its climate, adapts to its inhabitants, and responds to the subtle rhythms of the environment. In this shift from computation to perception, architecture and urban design are rediscovering intelligence as a form of empathy.
For monuments worthy of sustained admiration, conservation practices have been selectively mobilized to reinforce their prestige and secure their place at the center of heritage narratives. Structures whose vernacular ought to be passed down miss the discerning eye of the experts. Rowhouses, shopfronts, and neighborhood structures that form the fabric of our cities are often left to deteriorate beyond repair. Much more is lost, apart from aesthetics.
