As climate variability intensifies, extreme storms are becoming more frequent in some regions while water scarcity deepens in others. Architects are increasingly pressed to reconsider how buildings engage with rainfall as an environmental force and a design resource. How can architecture move beyond shedding the excess water to actively collect, store, and reuse it? What would it mean to treat rainwater as a material that shapes resilient and meaningful spaces?
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.
We walk on "flat" ground every day and rarely think twice—but how flat is it, really? In the city, curbs are chamfered, sidewalks pitch toward grates, and roadways are crowned to shed water into shallow gutters. In suburbs and on unpaved paths, irregular terrain is the norm. Inside buildings, by contrast, we pursue near-perfect horizontality—structural frames, slabs, and finishes are all disciplined to create level walking surfaces in the name of safety and accessibility. Yet flatness is inherently at odds with water. A closer look reveals a quiet repertoire of accommodations: slight falls at entries, thresholds raised a few millimeters, wet areas with barely perceptible pitches. The floor is read as flat, but it is in fact carefully tuned—micro-topographies masquerading as plane—to manage water without calling attention to themselves.
What are the common ways architects "keep things flat" while actually managing water—the perennial enemy of buildings? A useful way to look at it is by zooming into three recurring conditions: exterior or roof decking, bathrooms and other wet rooms, and exterior ground planes. Each relies on a slightly different toolkit—pedestal systems over sloped waterproofing, micro-gradients to floor traps, hidden perimeter drains, split slopes—to maintain the illusion of a seamless, level surface. Studying these situations side by side reveals just how much design effort goes into reconciling perceptual flatness with the messy reality.
This curated selection of projects from the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale explores how architects and designers are rethinking the relationship between the built environment and water in response to the global climate crisis. As sea levels rise and extreme weather events increase, water is no longer a distant threat but an immediate design condition. Rather than resisting it, these projects look at how architecture can coexist with, adapt to, and even regenerate through natural forces. Together, they suggest a shift toward working with the elements, acknowledging water not as a limit to construction but as an active participant in shaping future environments.
Water is the foundation of life. It shapes landscapes, regulates climates, and sustains every living organism. Yet on the only known inhabited planet, this essential resource faces a growing crisis: although 70% of Earth's surface is covered by water, less than 1% is actually available for human use. Most of it is consumed by agriculture and industry, while in households, activities like bathing and flushing use vast amounts of drinking water for non-essential purposes. The bathroom, therefore, has become a key space for innovation, where technology and design can help redefine how we use and reuse this vital element.
CRA–Carlo Ratti Associati and Höweler + Yoon designed AquaPraça, a floating gathering space for global climate dialogue set to anchor COP30 in Belém, Brazil, making its debut at the 19th International Architecture Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia on 5 September 2025. It will then embark on a transatlantic journey to Brazil, where it will form part of the Italian Pavilion at COP30, held from November 10 to 21, 2025. Following the event, it is intended to become a permanent floating landmark in the Amazon as part of Belém's cultural infrastructure.
Snøhetta has unveiled plans for Jesselton Docklands, a tropical waterfront master plan in Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia, on the island of Borneo. The development reimagines the city's former port as a civic and cultural hub, strengthening its connection to the waterfront and positioning it as a new gateway to Sabah and the wider Southeast Asian region. Situated near Kota Kinabalu International Airport, the development includes a new ferry and cruise terminal, integrating infrastructure with the island's ecological and cultural context to position the city as a key point of connection within the region.
At the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale, the installation Pylon of Permanence presents Water-Filled Glass (WFG), a glazing system developed to address the environmental impact of glass in the built environment. Although glass is one of the most widely used construction materials, its embodied and operational carbon footprint surpasses that of concrete, steel, and brick. Water-Filled Glass proposes an alternative approach by transforming glass from a passive enclosure into an active energy regulator.
While Hong Kong is widely celebrated for its iconic harbor view, glittering skyline, and fast-paced urban lifestyle, its origins tell a different story—one deeply rooted in its relationship with water. Before transforming into a dense, vertical metropolis, Hong Kong's architectural identity was closely tied to its maritime context. Today, the city is often associated with slender, glass-clad towers that symbolize modernity. While visually striking in their pursuit of height and form, many of these buildings appear disconnected from their immediate environment, often overlooking natural site conditions, ecological responsiveness, and contextual sensitivity.
Historically, however, this was not the case. Hong Kong's earliest built environments—rural fishing villages in areas like Tai O, Aberdeen, and Shau Kei Wan—emerged through organic, community-driven spatial practices that engaged closely with their surroundings. These coastal and riverside settlements developed architectural systems tailored to the marine environment and to the rhythms of fishing life. Villages were sited around water, and construction strategies were adapted to fluctuating tides, terrain, and social use.
As part of the collateral events of the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale, the Institut Ramon Llull presents the project "Water Parliaments: Projective Ecosocial Architectures", bringing together the waters of Lleida, Girona, Tarragona, Barcelona, Valencia, the Balearic Islands, and beyond to address the water crisis as an interconnected ecosocial, cultural, and political issue. Framing architecture as a tool for critical speculation and collective action, the project advocates for the imagining of future scenarios grounded in coexistence—interweaving the human and non-human, the natural and artificial, the technological and vernacular, the global and the local.
Swimmable Cities is an alliance of 153 signatory organizations across 59 cities in 22 countries, supporting the global movement for swimmable urban waterways. In the context of increasing urbanization, climate change, and biodiversity loss, the initiative aims to reclaim rivers and harbors as public spaces for communities to enjoy and benefit from bathing. It advocates for urban waterways to be made safe, healthy, and accessible for both swimmers and wildlife, calling for cross-border collaboration to develop improvement strategies and collect data to evaluate "swimmability." This call becomes especially relevant amid rising global temperatures and growing inequalities in access to public infrastructure in major cities. The movement's 10-point charter begins with the affirmation of "the right to swim," celebrating urban swimming culture and recognizing the historical significance of water.
The trajectory of glass in architecture reflects the technological evolution of humankind. For centuries, it was a fragile, opaque material, restricted to small openings in churches or aristocratic residences, limited in size, with uneven transparency and a largely secondary role. With the Industrial Revolution and advances in manufacturing processes, this condition changed dramatically. From artisanal and imperfect stained glass, we now have a wide range of architectural applications, from fully glazed skyscraper facades to translucent pedestrian bridges, lightweight roofs, smart partitions, and movable elements. One of the most surprising uses, once thought to be impractical, is the direct interaction of glass with large volumes of water. Today, we see pools with transparent walls or floors that project out from buildings, float above streets, or visually merge with their surroundings, creating striking sensory experiences. A remarkable feat, especially considering that for a long time, glass was considered too fragile for submerged environments.
Every June, the Spanish city of Logroño transforms into a space of architectural dialogue, opening its streets, plazas, riverbanks, and traffic islands to temporary structures that redefine how cities are inhabited. For ten editions, Concéntrico has worked not as a specialized fair or an architecture biennale, but as a portable museum — a curatorial gesture that brings a dispersed collection of contemporary architecture into public space. Set in a city suspended between arid plains and distant mountains, far from the circuits of capital cities and cultural institutions, Concéntrico presents itself as a temporary promise. It's a reminder that even cities that are often overlooked can host architecture that is current, diverse, and speculative. In this sense, the festival is less about celebration and more about activation.
But beyond its curatorial logic, Concéntrico operates as a political structure. In the ancient sense of polis, it invites citizens, architects, and institutions to reassess what public space can be. The interventions offer speculative proposals for urban life that reveal what is missing, what is possible, and what should be questioned. A temporary pool over a fountain, a bathhouse in a roundabout, or a shared meal on a major avenue are not just spatial gestures — they are political statements, asking how urban infrastructure might be redirected from control to care, from efficiency to encounter. In that way, the festival becomes not just a reflection of the city, but an instrument for its transformation.
Friends of + POOL has announced the next steps in the realization of New York City's first water-filtering floating swimming pool, to be installed at Pier 35, north of the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges. The project seeks to provide safe public access to swimming in the city's rivers by integrating a custom-designed filtration system into a floating pool structure. Installation at Pier 35 is scheduled for May 2026, when the pool will enter its final phase of evaluation. Public access will be contingent on the successful completion of large-scale filtration testing and the full build-out of the facility for safe public use.
Condensation, maintenance, and humidity are three familiar challenges that continue to test the buildings we design and construct. Whether stemming from climate conditions, limited airflow, or the specifics of construction detailing, these factors affect not only the durability of materials but also the everyday comfort and performance of inhabited spaces. When the setting is an aquatic center or an indoor swimming pool, the demands are even greater. The constant presence of steam, moisture accumulation, and the risk of mold can compromise both energy efficiency and the user experience. In such environments, ventilation and access to daylight, beyond their aesthetic value, become essential tools for maintaining equilibrium, enhancing indoor comfort, and ultimately improving how the space is perceived and utilized.
Danish maritime architecture studio MAST, in collaboration with construction company BIK Bouw, has designed a new floating community for the disused Spoorweghaven dock in Rotterdam, Netherlands. The proposed neighborhood, which has received initial support from the Municipality of Rotterdam, includes over 100 apartments, public spaces, commercial units, and a recreational harbor near the city center. Floating architecture is MAST's response to the Netherlands' housing crisis, offering a modular, adaptable solution for building a wide range of structures on water.
Water is a catalyst for sensory experiences: it manifests through direct contact when touched, through its presence when heard or seen reflected, and through its transformations—whether by temperature, from cold to heat, or by state, from liquid to vapor. It is a key element in designing for the senses, capable of evoking physically and emotionally perceived atmospheres. As Juhani Pallasmaa suggests, architecture does not address the eye alone but involves the whole body and sensory memory. The bathroom, in particular, concentrates much of the physical and emotional experience associated with water, opening up possibilities for creating environments that intensify that sensory connection. Consequently, the question arises: what elements or concepts should shape this space so that the shower experience escapes the ordinary?
At a time when architectural practice is increasingly tied to climate and context, the boundary between the built and the natural has become a critical site of experimentation. This month's unbuilt selection gathers eight conceptual projects that work with the edges of landscape. In Ramia by João Teles Atelier, the architecture draws directly from the metaphor of a seed breaking through soil, using wood, concrete, and water to create a sensorial route through Tulum's ecology. Meanwhile, Mobius Pier by X Atelier loops gently over the river edge, becoming both infrastructure and observation point. Similarly, Il mare degli Umbri approaches the threshold differently, restoring the historic shoreline of Lake Trasimeno and reintroducing local wetland ecologies. Each project in this collection reflects a unique position: some treat the edge as a spatial experience, others as a regulatory line, and others still as a point of cultural or ecological return.
