Beneath the ground lies a material that has quietly shaped the architecture of the modern world. Petroleum is rarely discussed within architectural discourse, yet the extraction, circulation, and consumption of oil have profoundly reorganized the spatial logic of territories. Pipelines, refineries, drilling platforms, ports, highways, and petrochemical complexes form a vast infrastructural landscape that sustains contemporary life, composing a dispersed architecture of energy.
Throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, oil became the material foundation of industrial society. It fueled transportation, powered factories, and supported the growth of cities whose spatial organisation depended on continuous energy flows. Yet the infrastructures that enable these flows rarely become objects of architectural inquiry. Attention remains largely directed toward form, typology, or urban density, while the material systems that sustain these environments tend to remain displaced within the discipline.
World Trade Center Biotic, Brasília. Image Courtesy of Architects Office
Located within the Parque Tecnológico de Brasília, the World Trade Center Biotic is a mixed-use development designed by Brazilian studio Architects Office as part of the district's broader urban expansion. The project is part of the master plan developed in 2020 by Carlo Ratti Associati and is currently being developed. Conceived as a multi-program complex, the proposal brings together offices, residential units, a hotel, retail spaces, and shared facilities within a single urban framework. The project occupies a site of approximately 70,000 square meters and is planned to reach about 180,000 square meters of built area, with an estimated 150,000 square meters expected to be completed by 2030.
House with Seven Gardens / Civil Architecture. Image Courtesy of Civil Architecture
For centuries, domestic architecture throughout the Gulf has been organized around the courtyard. Houses presented thick exterior walls and limited openings to the street, turning inward toward a shaded garden that structured everyday life. This spatial arrangement responded to both climate and culture. The courtyard brought daylight into deep plans, enabled cross-ventilation, and provided a protected outdoor environment within dense urban fabrics. In the House with Seven Gardens, in Diyar Al Muharraq, Bahrain, the Bahrain-based practice Civil Architecture, one of the winners of the ArchDaily 2025 Next Practices Awards, revisits this spatial tradition through the conditions of contemporary suburban housing. Rather than reproducing the courtyard house as a historical model, the project reinterprets its environmental logic within the regulatory frameworks and spatial conditions that shape much of today's urban development in the Gulf.
Cities around the world share a common goal: to become healthier and greener, supported by civic infrastructure that restores ecosystems and strengthens public life. The question is how to reach this. Global climate targets, local building codes, and municipal standards increasingly guide designers and planners toward better choices. Still, many cities struggle to translate these frameworks into everyday, street-level comfort and long-term ecological protection. What happens if the city is no longer treated as a traditional city, but as a national park?
National parks operate through systems of protection that treat land as a network of ecological relationships rather than a collection of isolated sites. They establish a shared baseline for what must be preserved, maintained, and made accessible over time. When this logic is applied to the urban environment, success can inspire pride and a sense of shared responsibility among designers, policymakers, and residents, fostering a collective commitment to health, habitat, and civic infrastructure.
What Placemakers Need to Unlearn — Why Regenerative Places Demand a Different Mindset
Regenerative placemaking is an approach to shaping places that prioritises long-term social, cultural and environmental health, not just short-term activation, footfall or commercial performance. It looks at how places can continue to give back to the people and communities who use them over time, rather than extracting value and moving on.
Across history, the relocation of capital cities has often been associated with moments of political rupture, regime change, or symbolic nation-building. From Brasília to Islamabad, new capitals were frequently conceived as instruments of centralized power, territorial control, or ideological projection. In recent decades, however, a different set of drivers has begun to shape these decisions. Rather than security or representation alone, contemporary capital relocations are increasingly tied to structural pressures such as demographic concentration, infrastructural saturation, environmental risk, and long-term resource management. As metropolitan regions expand beyond their capacity to sustain population growth and administrative functions, governments are turning to spatial reconfiguration as a means of addressing systemic urban imbalance.
Sunset panorama of a large residential gated community (Aparna’s Elixir) viewed from Khajaguda hills, India. Photo by iMahesh. License Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International
You learn how to behave long before you arrive home. At the gate, you slow down and wait. You are watched, then waved through. A badge is checked, a barrier lifts, a camera blinks. Nothing dramatic happens, and that is precisely the point. The most consequential work of gated communities is not done by their walls, but by the choreography of entry that quietly teaches residents what to expect, whom to trust, and where they belong.
The magic of Indian architecture lies in an invisible order amidst visceral chaos. When an uncertain future knocks on the doors of local practitioners, one might begin to look within the four walls they occupy to discover an opportunity for reinterpretation.
Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru, and other major metropolises are described as needing massive housing solutions for millions. The instinctive answer is predictable — masterplans, dense towers, and standardized units smeared over haphazard developments. The lexicon misses a deeper truth about how the people already live, work, and build in India. The shorthand used in policy and planning — slum, informal settlement, unauthorized colony — implies a temporary state to be corrected. A designer's eye views these places as layered urban histories, formed through necessity.
Beneath the visible surface of cities lies an invisible architecture. Subways, tunnels, water systems, data cables, and bunkers form a dense network that sustains urban life while remaining largely unseen. The ground beneath our feet is not a void but a complex territory that holds the infrastructures, memories, and anxieties of our age. In recent years, as land becomes scarce and climate pressures intensify, architects and urbanists have turned their gaze downward, rediscovering the subterranean as both a physical and conceptual frontier. To design underground is to engage with the unseen mechanisms that shape the world above.
The subterranean has long been a site where architecture intersects with politics, technology, and belief. From the catacombs of Rome to the industrial subways of modernity, descent has symbolized both protection and exposure. Twentieth-century urbanism transformed this gesture into a system: metros, shelters, and utilities redefined the city section as an instrument of governance. Beneath the promise of efficiency and progress, the underground absorbed the anxieties of an era of war, surveillance, and collapse. Its evolution reveals not only how societies build, but also how they fear.
Today, the ground has become the new frontier of urban expansion and ecological adaptation. As digital infrastructures, energy systems, and climatic buffers migrate below grade, architecture confronts a space both technical and metaphysical — essential yet marginal, invisible yet decisive. To think in sections rather than in plan is to recognise that contemporary cities no longer exist solely in their skylines but also in their depths. The challenge for architecture is not only to occupy that space, but to render it legible, to turn the unseen into knowledge, and the hidden into a new terrain of design.
Spanning multiple geographies and scales, this week's architecture news reflects ongoing discussions around long-term planning, institutional frameworks, and the public role of architecture. National-scale urban initiatives and large civic developments point to how planning and infrastructure are being used to reorganize cities and territorial systems, while parallel attention to stadiums, cultural facilities, and mixed-use projects highlights the expanding civic ambitions of large-scale architecture. Alongside these, interviews and heritage-focused projects foreground participatory practices and the careful reuse of existing structures, highlighting architecture's capacity to operate within complex social and political conditions. Recognition platforms and professional programs further situate these practices within a broader architectural discourse, offering insight into how contemporary work is evaluated and shared across regions.
The architectural history of North American cities in the 20th century is often characterized by the pursuit of urban renewal. In the United States, Boston, Portland, and San Francisco are just some examples of when municipal governments prioritized high-speed vehicular infrastructure over the existing urban fabric. In Canada, Montreal would have followed this trajectory if not for the intervention of several figures throughout its history, most notably Blanche Lemco van Ginkel (1923–2022). A Harvard-trained planner and architect who, along with her husband Sandy Van Ginkel, advocated for the preservation of urban heritage while applying the principles of modernist infrastructure.
Reflecting on the modern city, Walter Benjamin described the flâneur, a figure who walks without a defined destination, attentive to details, chance encounters, and the narratives that emerge from urban space. This way of being in the city, shaped by observation and openness to the unexpected, has long been in tension with the rationalist and functionalist ideals that came to guide urban planning throughout the twentieth century. Streets designed primarily for efficiency and flow rarely leave room for detours, pauses, or the coexistence of different rhythms of life.
Jane Jacobs was also one of the voices that challenged this predominantly rationalist logic, arguing that truly vibrant streets are those capable of sustaining the diversity of everyday life, its informal exchanges, and the forms of care and natural surveillance that emerge from them. What these authors share is a fundamental insight: streets are not merely infrastructures for circulation, but social ecosystems, shaped by the relationships, uses, and encounters that take place within them.
President Ilham Aliyev has signed an order declaring 2026 the "Year of Urban Planning and Architecture" in the Republic of Azerbaijan. The decision establishes a national framework focused on urban planningpolicy, architectural culture, and sustainable development, aligning with Azerbaijan's preparations to host the 13th World Urban Forum (WUF13) in Baku in May 2026. According to the order, the designation aims to preserve Azerbaijan's centuries-old traditions while integrating contemporary approaches that respond to current social, environmental, and spatial challenges. The President's Administration will now prepare and submit a comprehensive action plan for the year within one month.
Hunnu City Ecological Corridor. Image Courtesy of Bechu & Associés
Bechu & Associés has been selected as the winner of the international open competition for the masterplan of Hunnu City, a new satellite city planned south of Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Announced in 2025, the winning proposal establishes a long-term urban framework for a 31,503-hectare site located near Chinggis Khaan International Airport, with phased development planned between 2025 and 2045. The project forms part of Mongolia's broader territorial strategy under the Ulaanbaatar 2040 Master Plan and the national Vision 2050 framework, positioning Hunnu City as a new emerging major city intended to support population decentralization, economic diversification, and long-term urban resilience.
4 Design Days 2026 is the jubilee 10th edition of one of the most important events for the architecture, design, and real estate sectors in Poland. On 22–23 January 2026, the International Congress Centre in Katowice will host architects, designers, investors, developers, manufacturers, representatives of local authorities, and experts who actively shape the directions of contemporary spatial development.