In the center of Cairo, The Nile River, one of the world's most iconic waterways, has shaped the course of civilization for thousands of years. Serving as a vibrant lifeline, connecting neighborhoods, and providing a bustling hub for transportation, the Nile River is an essential natural resource for arid Cairo. Throughout the country’s history, it has often been regarded as the source of life in fertility in its annual flooding, bringing richness to the surrounding lands. Interestingly, this year's edition of La Biennale di Venezia, the Pavilion of Egypt "NiLab" focused on exploring this layered water source and unfolding its effects on the built environment.
Architecture reconciles the sense of belonging and dignity of space. In addition to designing residential or cultural facilities, addressing public space in communities that inhabit vulnerable areas is also urgent and necessary to provide a dignified infrastructure that provides quality of life for the population. Therefore, we have gathered seven interventions in marginalized territories that show the potential for transformation from the space itself.
February 20th marks a new edition of the World Day of Social Justice. The theme, "Overcoming barriers and unlocking opportunities", is a perfect occasion to reflect on the importance of equity in all areas of society - and especially from architecture and urbanism. And yes: they both have a fundamental role in building accessible cities and are important tools for addressing the challenges of economic inequality and social exclusion.
When San Francisco’s MUNI spent big money on a “central subway” to Chinatown, I was doubtful. One recent Saturday, though, I revived the gallery-hopping I did before the pandemic, taking the train from Berkeley into the city, walking to one gallery near Embarcadero Station, then taking a tram past the ballpark to the CalTrain Station, where I switched to another tram to head south to Minnesota Street’s Dogpatch cluster of galleries and artists’ studios.
https://www.archdaily.com/1001256/consider-the-15-mph-cityJohn J. Parman
Located in the southern part of Benin-Republic, near the port city of Cotonou, is Ganvie; the largest floating village in Africa. It is situated in the middle of Lake Nokoué and is characterized by colorful wooden stilt houses arranged around artificial islands dating back to the 17th century.
This unique architecture was born from the history of the Tofinu tribe, who built it as a refuge from the slave trade. It has been sustained over time by their communal socio-ecological aquacultural systems and has now become a global tourist attraction for the country. The village was recognized as a world cultural heritage site by UNESCO in 1996, attracting up to 10,000 visitors annually. However, this influx of tourists has impacted the locals and their socio-ecological practices that sustain this water environment. Aquaculture has become increasingly challenging to maintain as the village struggles to retain its economic foundation. Additionally, traditional building practices have given way to modern ones, and the village faces ongoing environmental challenges. Nevertheless, the unique lifestyle of the locals around the water still offers many lessons for the design of prospective floating cities.
Ice caps are rapidly receding; one of America’s two political parties is actively undermining federal authority; despite new materials and additive manufacturing, most houses constructed today are built much as they were several generations ago; the pathological suburbanization of the nation continues unabated. In the face of this and more, it seems, “the center cannot hold.” Such were several of the issues that prompted Keith Krumwiede, a soon-to-be fellow at the American Academy in Rome (AAR) at the time, to argue in 2017 that if a single detached house for every family is at the core of “The American Dream,” then we need a new dream.
This year marks the centennial of the first edition of Vers Une Architecture, Le Corbusier’s epoch-making book. Though a new English translation appeared in 2007 to much acclaim, most other practicing architects read the first English edition that appeared in 1928, entitled Towards a New Architecture. Comparing the three editions is instructive, particularly in one crucial respect: the insertion of the word “new” in the title. The book wasn’t really about new architecture, because very little of it showed buildings in the International Style. Instead, it was in many respects a clever diatribe intended to convince Europeans that they had no choice but to renounce every kind of architecture that had been built before the Great War and begin anew. It was remarkably successful in fulfilling that aim.
https://www.archdaily.com/1000499/away-from-old-architecture-what-le-corbusier-really-meantMark Alan Hewitt
The city block is a typically urban element that, historically, has appeared in different forms and designs, structurally shaping city planning guidelines. When observing urban fabrics in cities such as Barcelona, Paris and Copenhagen, one can see significant variation between block models. This defines their landscapes and dynamics in countless ways. Style and format alterations, volumetric changes in the relationship between full and empty spaces, and modifications in connections to the surroundings are some examples of typological particularities that differentiate them. Blocks, therefore, are often emblematic and representative not only of certain urban planning models developed throughout history but also of their cities.
We’re all familiar with the plot of a movie that occurs in a city still standing in a post-apocalyptic era. The streets are empty, except for a few survivors who wander aimlessly, searching for signs of life. Buildings begin to crumble and rust away after years of neglect, public transportation sits idle, and overgrown weeds spring from the cracks in the unmanaged sidewalks and streets. The scene feels eerie because we can’t imagine letting our physical environment sit in decay. It seems impossible that our built environments where we live and work each day suddenly fall silent. It’s a city without a pulse.
When Airbnb began nearly 15 years ago, it offered a new and innovative solution to book short-term stays without any hassle. By renting out a spare room or an entire apartment, it provided an alternative to traditional hotel models which were often overpriced and overbooked. Airbnb now faces many critics as the company quickly grew, offering hundreds of thousands of stays around the globe, but not without a handful of negative experiences. Now, planners and policymakers are beginning to see the effects of the abundance of Airbnb listings and how it impacts a growing housing crisis.
What is the 15-Minute City? It’s every city ever built by humans on this planet until a century ago, but with a catchy new name. If a city’s old parts haven’t been destroyed in the past century, it’s the areas that attract the most tourists. And people will travel across continents and oceans to experience the best of them.
Forty years ago, a few pioneers decided to start building 15-Minute Cities again. Actually, they built 5-minute cities because they didn’t think people would walk for 15 minutes—and, in the early 1980s, they were right, because people were so conditioned to driving everywhere back then. Seaside, Florida, is where it all began. Time magazine called it “the little town that changed the world.” For the first time in the modern history of sprawl, people could toss their car keys in a drawer or hang them on the wall and leave them there for days. When people returned from Seaside vacations, they came back asking, “Why can’t we build this way at home?” And soon, the New Urbanism was born.
When streets lay empty, sidewalks untouched, and shutters hung heavy, the city seems lost of life. When businesses close, offices go remote and economic activity declines, the mechanisms that operate a city are idle. Vacant space and land are often perceived as “failed”, reflecting urban decline and economic blight. Emptiness, however, holds hope for possibilities and change. When urban voids are at the brink of transformation, what happens in the meanwhile?
Over the last few years, bike share systems experienced a renaissance as the pandemic forced a hard decline in other forms of public transportation like trains and commercial flights where people wanted to avoid close contact with strangers. While ridership is now on a slow decline, since much of the “normal life” aspects have returned, many people continue to see bike shares as a viable means of transportation, lured by the ease and affordability of getting from place to place.
Airbnb has long been a reliable way to find a homestay. Since its inception in 2008, the site has hosted more than 7 million homes around the world where travelers can stay in a room, or rent an entire house out for themselves. Recently, many cities have been cracking down on short-term stays, citing safety issues, false listings, and rising property prices which push people out of their homes when housing becomes used just for Airbnb rentals. What are cities doing about these issues? What is Airbnb doing to help remediate them? And will Airbnb be viable for much longer?
Suburbs have experienced a sort of renaissance over the last decade. During the COVID-19 pandemic, people fled urban cores in favor of open space and decentralized amenities. For some people, the word “suburb” or “suburbia” flashes images of manicured lawns and rows of identical homes, but what makes a successful suburb may have more in common with cities than you might think.
Abandoned house in "Touki Bouki". Image Courtesy of Janus Films
Simultaneously gripping, disconcerting, and chaotic, Djibril Diop Mambéty’s Touki Boukiis an exhilarating cinematic ride. The 1973 drama — the first full-length film by the Senegalese director — is the fantastical narration of a young couple in Dakar, eager to escape the Senegalese capital for the allure of Paris. It’s a character-driven film in many ways, primarily centered on the couple’s adventures, but it is also a subtle visual examination of the urbanism of post-independence Dakar, where the city and its architecture are essential fixtures in a surreal storyline.
Through the “Search History” exhibition at MAXXI Museum in Rome, Lara Lesmes and Fredrik Hellberg, directors of the architecture and art studio Space Popular, set out to explore the work of Also Rossi and to translate his notions of “urban fact” and “analogous city” to the virtual realm. The installation is a reflection on the proliferation of metaverse platforms and the concept of virtual urbanism. The exhibition is part of the fifth edition of Studio Visit, a partnership between Alcantara and the MAXXI Museo nazionale delle arti del XXI secolo, which challenges designers to put forward a personal reinterpretation of the works of the masters in the MAXXI Architecture Collections.
The scene is almost identical, no matter which borough of New York City you’re in. Narrow sidewalks are lined by mountains of trash bags and other large objects, waiting for their turn to be taken away by the fleet of sanitary workers and trucks who will dispose of them. Large rodents seek shelter in their temporary plastic homes, feeding on discarded scraps, becoming a regular sighting for New York City residents. The City That Never Sleeps has a bigger problem than the flashing lights and noisy streets- it’s all of the trash that’s left to sit out on the sidewalks.
