A perforated screen is often treated as an afterthought, something applied to soften light, to decorate a façade, or to add texture where a wall might otherwise feel flat. It is photographed as a surface, drawn as a pattern, and discussed as a craft. But in many buildings across the Indian subcontinent and the Islamic world, the screen was never an addition. It was the wall itself. Remove it, and the building does not simply change in appearance; it loses its ability to regulate heat, move air, and mediate between inside and outside.
This misreading reveals more about contemporary habits than about the screen itself. Architectural thinking has long separated structure from envelope, performance from expression. Within that framework, elements like the jaali or mashrabiya are easy to categorize as ornamental, visually rich but technically secondary. Yet these screens were conceived as integrated systems, where geometry, material, and climate operate together. Their intelligence lies in what they do.
In temperate and cold climates, architecture typically begins with a defensive gesture. The building envelope is a sealed boundary designed to resist the exterior environment through insulation, vapor barriers, and mechanical control. In cold countries like Canada, where winter temperatures can plunge well below freezing, airtightness is not a luxury. In this context, buildings must resist the exterior environment entirely to maintain interior comfort. However, in Central America, a region spanning from Belize to Panama, architectural logic shifts from exclusion to negotiation. In this region, the envelope is not a wall of defense but a specialized filter.
In the coastal and jungle regions of Costa Rica, high humidity and intense solar radiation dictate an architectural strategy centered on permeability rather than enclosure. Unlike the airtight envelopes required in cold climates to retain heat, Costa Rican architecture uses the building envelope as a climatic filter to maximize air exchange. The primary mechanism for managing these thermal gradients seems to be the oversized roof overhang. By extending the roof plane significantly beyond the floor plate, architects create a permanent buffer of deep shade that reduces solar gain and lowers the ambient temperature before air enters the structure. This strategy, combined with permeable or non-existent walls, allows for constant airflow. This is a critical technical requirement for humidity control and the prevention of material degradation through mold and rot.
Humid environments present some of the most complex challenges in architectural design. From the tropical monsoon season of Southeast Asia to the equatorial heat of Central Africa, these environments demand solutions that account for intense moisture, high temperatures, and the constant battle against mold, decay, and stagnation. Yet, for centuries, communities in these regions have developed architectural techniques that do not fight against humidity but instead work with it, leveraging local materials, climate-responsive design, and passive cooling techniques to create sustainable and livable spaces. By considering atmosphere as a sensory and climatic phenomenon, architects will craft spaces that are not only evocative but also responsive, adaptive, and sustainable.
Abu Dhabi Climate Resilience Initiative / CBT Architects. Image Courtesy of CBT Architects
As temperatures rise globally, the impacts of urban heat islands—once considered an invisible threat—are becoming increasingly pronounced and ever more dangerous. Despite this mounting threat, however, the public realm which constitutes about 30% of cities offers immense potential to provide respite from scorching heat and introduce new opportunities to improve urban resilience efforts. As global temperatures rise, cities in regions like the United Arab Emirates and India are facing unprecedented challenges in maintaining livable urban spaces.
When we think of the word "tropic," the image that typically comes to mind is an exotic space, characterized by perpetual warmth and humidity, with frequent and heavy rainfall nurturing lush vegetation. Throughout history, this tropical climate has been romanticized as a paradise and criticized for potentially fostering weakness due to its perceived clemency.
Thankfully, those judgments and associations have been relegated to the past, paving the way for theoretical and practical projects that outline the advantages and disadvantages of living in a tropical climate. These projects acknowledge the various strategies to enhance human adaptability within these distinctive climatic conditions.
Bruno Stagno from Costa Rica not only reflects on how responses to the environment can be the main foundation for the inspiration and identity of architecture but also suggests going a step further, envisioning architecture for an entire latitude.
We discussed his current concerns and motivations, the shortcomings and necessary innovations in tropical cities, the relationship between academia and professional practice regarding the environment, and, above all, projections for the future of Costa Rican architecture.
Located 270km north of Dakar, the capital of Senegal, and near the border with Mauritania, is the Island of Saint-Louis. It is a prominent colonial city in West Africa, known for its blend of Mediterranean architecture with a tropical climate. Saint-Louis was founded by the French Colony in 1659 as its first trading post on the Atlantic coast of Africa. It later became the capital of French West Africa (AOF) and Senegal. However, it lost this status in 1902, which led to its economic decline.
This complex history has made Saint-Louis a melting point for different layers of architecture and urbanism. The island showcases a grid urban form with double-storey villas, which is typical of 19th-century French colonial urbanism. Additionally, it features tropical courtyards, shaded balconies, 1920s art déco houses, and early '30s modern civic buildings. However, due to its economic and infrastructural isolation, this architecture and urban heritage have continuously degraded. Therefore, it seeks new interventions for the conservation, restoration, and re-adaptation of the city.
Tropical Africa boasts vast forests that cover 3.6 million square kilometers of land in West, East, and Central Africa. These forests provide valuable timber resources that significantly impact sectors, such as the furniture, fuel, and paper industries. However, interestingly, timber is seemingly absent in the contemporary architecture of the countries in this region. While architectural taste plays a role, the main reasons for this absence can be attributed to the wood industries' inability to meet the requirements of availability, affordability, aesthetic appeal, durability, and climatic and structural performance of timber. The wood industry in tropical Africa is mainly composed of informal and small-scale operations, focused primarily on sawing logs rather than refining wood for architectural or structural purposes. Despite this, the large number of informal enterprises in the region presents an opportunity to reshape the wood industry and utilize the local forestry resources to construct timber buildings.
The tropical climate is famous for its exuberant flora. It's no wonder that architectural projects in the region maintain a constant dialogue between nature and the built environment. Biophilia's benefits to users are not news, after all. However, high temperatures, frequent rains, and high humidity levels present unique challenges for reconciling the connection between the interior and exterior with the construction of houses that are comfortable and efficient over time. In the search for solutions that meet needs and demands, we have selected residential projects that appropriate the context to become unique in this environment.
Certification of sustainable buildings has become a prominent trend in architecture over the last couple of years and while most people can agree on the importance of sustainability in building, how to achieve it leaves copious room for discussion.
