Architect and urbanist Paola Viganò has been selected by Pro Helvetia to curate the Swiss Pavilion at the 20th International Architecture Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia. Chosen following a unanimous recommendation from the selection jury, Viganò's proposal explores water as a territorial, ecological, and political condition, taking Switzerland's role as "Europe's water tower" as its conceptual point of departure. Developed with StudioPaolaViganò and an interdisciplinary team, the project examines water not only as a resource but also as a subject, a legal entity, and a force that shapes landscapes, infrastructures, and the built environment.
"By 2050, almost every child in the world — nearly 2.2 billion children — will be exposed to frequent heat waves." UNICEF's warning is often read as a public health forecast, but it is also a challenge to architecture and the way cities are built. As extreme heat intensifies across Asia, Europe, and beyond, thermal comfort should not be reduced to merely an indoor service delivered by machines. Air-conditioning has become a life-support system for many cities, especially in dense, humid, and rapidly urbanizing regions. Yet to rely on it as the default answer is to treat heat as something that can simply be moved elsewhere (and in the process generating extra heat) — expelled from interiors into streets, service alleys, energy grids, and the atmosphere. Its expansion increases energy demand, produces waste heat, and reinforces unequal access to comfort.
Heat, however, does not stop at the human body. It reorganizes the wider urban ecosystem: trees struggle with compacted soil and radiant paving; birds and insects lose habitat when planting is reduced to decorative greenery; aquatic systems warm, microbial life shifts, and materials absorb and release heat long after the sun has set. Heat is not simply a climatic problem to be escaped indoors. It is an urban actor that reshapes public space, labor, mobility, planting, material choices, and the fragile relationships between human and nonhuman life.
Tell the Water What the Clay Kept Secret. Image Courtesy of Ola Hassanain
Ola Hassanain is a Sudanese architect and artist operating in the Netherlands, and will be exhibiting at the Pan-African Architecture Biennale in Nairobi, Kenya, later in 2026. All three locations tell stories of the built environment's relationship with water. These illustrate the continuous battles between the amorphous forces of nature that are the rivers and seas, and human attempts to shape and control them. In most cases, they are attempts at extraction. Catastrophes happen as a result of the overreach of these attempts or of their mismanagement, or both.
Based in Mexico City, Estudio Ome, founded by Susana Rojas Saviñón and Hortense Blanchard, is an architectural and landscape practice working across forests, volcanic terrains, urban fragments, and former industrial sites. Winner of the ArchDaily 2025 Next Practices Awards, the studio develops projects through sustained observation of ecological and territorial conditions, where design decisions arise directly from the behavior of soil, water, vegetation, and ground.
Each project begins with repeated encounters. The terrain is first approached through walking and prolonged observation, letting drainage patterns, erosion, and seasonal shifts become legible before any formal measurement occurs. These visits form the basis for interpreting both visible and subterranean layers—hydrology and historical transformations that continue to exert force on the surface.
Waterway bathroom concept by Haihua Zhang and the bathroom collection AXOR Archivio by Barber Osgerby. Image Courtesy of AXOR
Water has always occupied a unique position in architecture: elemental yet elusive, functional yet symbolic. It is both a material and a medium that shapes cities, structures rituals, and influences how space is perceived. Across cultures, water is understood not only as a source of life but as a carrier of meaning, associated with purification, renewal, and continuity. Its presence in the built environment often extends beyond utility, becoming a device through which architecture engages the senses and constructs atmosphere.
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.
Balcony House / Ryo Matsui Architects. Image Courtesy of Ryo Matsui Architects Inc
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.
Coding Plants: An Artificial Reef and Living Kelp Archive. Courtesy of Terreform ONE
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.
At voco Brussels City North, hansgrohe and Hydraloop unite for smarter water use. Image Courtesy of Hansgrohe
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.
Snøhetta has unveiled plans for Jesselton Docklands, a tropical waterfrontmaster 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.
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.
