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?
https://www.archdaily.com/1030230/the-bathroom-reawakened-contemporary-design-concepts-for-a-sensory-experienceEnrique Tovar
The Mid-Century Modernist movement was more than an aesthetic or material shift in the United States, as it was a response to a rapidly changing world. Emerging after World War II, this architectural revolution rejected ornate, traditional styles of the past in favor of clean lines, functional design, and incorporation of flashy materials like steel, glass, and concrete. Modernism was a break from tradition, focusing instead on simplicity, efficiency, and a vision for the future. It reflected the optimism of a nation rebuilding itself, where technology and innovation shaped everything from cityscapes to suburban homes.
In an effort to foster a sense of belonging among its inhabitants, to value ancestral cultures, and to preserve identity, the Latin American region embraces an architecture rich in nuances and regional characteristics. The use of local materials and construction techniques, or the dialogue between modular and vernacular approaches, among other aspects, reflect the intention to promote the involvement of native communities, students and their families, Iindigenous peoples, and local builders in the design and construction processes of a wide variety of rural schools throughout Latin America.
The 19th edition of the Venice Architecture Biennale officially opened to the public on May 10, becoming a significant international platform for exploring the current state of global architecture and sparking conversations about the challenges the discipline faces today—both shared and specific to each territory. This year’s theme, "Intelligens. Natural. Artificial. Collective," proposed by general curator and Italian architect Carlo Ratti, invites reflection on architecture’s interconnection with other fields—such as art, artificial intelligence, and technology—while also emphasizing the importance of territories, landscapes, and, above all, the people who collectively shape our built environment.
The Master in Advanced Architecture at IAAC celebrates its 25th anniversary as one of the most forward-looking programs in architectural education. Founded in 2000 in Barcelona, the program was created as a space for experimentation—where design meets technology, ecology and critical thinking, far from the conventions of traditional architectural training.
Over the years, the program has welcomed more than 1,000 students from over 80 countries. This international mix is no accident; it reflects IAAC's understanding of innovation as something that grows through dialogue, diversity and shared ambition. The result is a network of professionals working at the intersection of design, research, and systemic change.
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.
In partnership with the European Cultural Center (ECC), ArchDaily has launched its inaugural exhibition as part of the seventh iteration of Time Space Existence, an architectural showcase occurring concurrently with the 19th VeniceArchitecture Biennale. Open from May 10 to November 23, 2025, in various locations throughout Venice, this edition centers on the theme of "Repair, Regenerate, and Reuse," promoting innovative and sustainable approaches in architecture. ArchDaily's contribution is located at Palazzo Mora, complementing other venues like Palazzo Bembo, Marinaressa Gardens, and Palazzo Michiel.
A pavilion in a Biennale serves as a platform for cultural expression, allowing a nation to articulate its architectural identity while responding to global challenges. These national exhibitions reflect how each country interprets the event's central theme through the lens of its own landscapes, histories, and future aspirations, reinforcing architecture's ability to act not only as a built discipline, but also as a catalyst for reflection, transformation, and dialogue. In this context, Montenegro's contribution resonates with particular force. Titled Terram Intelligere: INTERSTITIUM, the pavilion draws on the concept of a newly understood anatomical system of fluid-filled spaces running throughout the human body, facilitating connection and exchange. Once considered dense and inert, the interstitium is now revealed to be a network of dynamic interrelation — a metaphor that the curators use to reframe architecture as an active, living inquiry into natural, artificial, and collective intelligence, in tune with this edition's theme: Natural. Artificial. Collective.
Over the last decade, architectural design has relied on 2D methods of representation, such as elevations, sections, and floor plans, paired with digital renderings of 3D models. While these tools are essential to convey geometry and intent, they remain limited by their two-dimensional format. Even the most realistic renderings, created through programs like SketchUp, Revit, or AutoCAD, still flatten space and distance the viewer from the lived experience of a project. Recently, architects have begun to explore immersive technologies as a way to bridge this gap between drawing and experience, offering new ways to inhabit and assess spatial proposals.
SL500 Sliding Door System. Image Courtesy of ASSA ABLOY
Throughout history, doors—and later automatic doors—have served a far greater purpose than merely marking an entrance or exit. They define thresholds, guide the flow of movement, and subtly shape the way people interact within a space. We can trace their evolution back to the 1st century, when Heron of Alexandria devised a steam-powered door—an early example of technology merging with architecture. Since then, contactless automatic door systems have incorporated technological advancements that enhance operation and redefine their role within buildings. Today, they are integrated across a range of building types and scales, acting as transitional elements that enhance comfort, energy efficiency, and the overall quality of indoor spaces.
https://www.archdaily.com/1029498/the-greener-future-of-automatic-door-systems-a-shift-in-design-and-performanceEnrique Tovar
In today’s dense, vertical cities, terraces—often overlooked as mere technical rooftops—are emerging as key spaces for reconnecting with nature, expanding residential functions, and offering moments of collective relief. Particularly in single-family homes located in compact urban areas, these elevated surfaces represent valuable opportunities to increase usable living space without occupying more land. By lifting daily life above street level, terraces open new ways of inhabiting the city, enabling a range of uses from leisure and contemplation to food production and social gathering. In contexts marked by limited green space and strained infrastructure, they hold the potential to generate what landscape architect Catherine Mosbach calls "additional layers of urbanity." Whether imagined as hanging gardens, gathering spots, edible landscapes, or wellness zones, terraces challenge the idea that the city ends at the top floor—inviting us to see the roof as a new kind of ground.
Buildner has announced the results of its competition, the Last Nuclear Bomb Memorial No.5. This competition is held each year to support the universal ban on nuclear weapons. In 2017, on the 75th anniversary of the 1945 bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, which claimed the lives of over 100,000 people, the United Nations adopted the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons.
In recognition of this treaty, Buildner invites conceptual designs for a memorial to be located on any known decommissioned nuclear weapon testing site. The conceptual memorial is intended to reflect the history and ongoing threat of nuclear weapons, aiming to promote public awareness of nuclear disarmament.
The challenge is intended to bring attention to the history and dangers of nuclear weapons. Participants are tasked with designing a space that commemorates nuclear warfare victims and conveys the need for a nuclear-free future. As a 'silent' competition, submissions are not allowed to include any text, titles, or annotations.
The next edition of this competition, the Last Nuclear Bomb Memorial No. 6, has been launched with an early bird registration deadline of June 12, 2025.
At the turn of the millennium, the world was gripped by the looming threat of the Y2K bug, a potential failure of computerized systems that could disrupt everything from banking to aviation. As midnight approached on December 31, 1999, people withdrew their savings, major corporations issued warnings, and governments scrambled to prevent public hysteria. But as the sun rose on January 1, 2000, the feared bug had no material impact, and the crisis faded as quickly as it had emerged. However, this era left its mark in unexpected places — particularly in architecture. Amid the anxiety surrounding digital technology, one of the most iconic concert halls of our time, Casa da Música in Porto, was born. Designed by OMA (Office for Metropolitan Architecture), its origins can be traced to a much smaller project: the Y2K House. What began as an exploration of private domesticity during the digital scare evolved into a grand public structure — an architectural transition from home to a performance hall.
As artificial intelligence (AI) becomes increasingly embedded in society, it's essential to pause and reflect on the foundations that sustain it—and the dimensions to which it extends. At the heart of AI's learning are datasets, whose structure and content shape how these systems interpret and respond to the world. This reliance creates a deep interdependence—one that not only informs AI's capabilities but also defines its potential blind spots. In light of this, we must ask: What forms of understanding might this process exclude, especially those not easily captured in digital form?
Without dedicated spaces for private focus — a crucial element of effective collaboration — even the brightest idea dims. The office must indeed balance connectivity with personal space most brilliantly, letting employees move between tasks without friction. Booths like hushFree.XS, hushFree.S.Hybrid, and hushFree.S are part of this, together forming a trio of single-person booths that meet the majority of the office's need for individual workspaces.
HushFree.XS, hushFree.S.Hybrid, and hushFree.S work as a complete system, ensuring employees have the right conditions for productive solo work throughout the day, proving to be invaluable tools for architects in designing spaces that completely address varied employees needs. Booths like these make premium refuges for focused calls, impressively immersive video conference spaces, and deep-focus bubbles.
Architecture holds power beyond the creation of buildings - it is a practice that shapes how people live, interact, and thrive within their communities. Architecture can also be a tool for social innovation. Through an understanding of human-centered processes, participatory design, and social sciences, practitioners can address societal challenges such as loneliness, inequality, and public health to equip spaces as vehicles for social equity and engagement. Architecture's role in shaping the future of communities is a direct response to human needs and activated social change.
An ancestral house in the rural village of Willendorf in der Wachau stands watch over a grove of fruit trees. The trees have stood for generations and, to this day, provide the fruit which is the basis of the family business. Bound on one side by the river Danube and the other by valley's edge, both house and grove have witnessed the passage of countless seasons together. With each progression between darkness and light, from winter to summer, comes the inevitability of change.
In Venice, surrounded by an overwhelming abundance of architectural beauty—the grandeur of landmarks like the Basilica di San Marco, St. Mark's Square, and the Rialto Bridge, to name just a few—it is easy to become swept up in the iconic imagery and spatial majesty of the city. One could lose sight of the quieter, yet equally masterful, moments found in the execution of details across its built fabric. Beyond the grandeur, the city offers a richness in its winding alleyways, narrow canals, and vibrant street life—each contributing to the cultural tapestry that makes Venice so unique. Amidst these celebrated elements, however, lie subtle but remarkable architectural details that often go unnoticed. These deserve closer observation and reflection, as they offer their own kind of mastery—one grounded in material precision, craft, and the lived rhythms of the city.
Just steps away from the iconic Piazza San Marco, a quiet architectural dialogue unfolds between two celebrated figures. Within a one-minute walk, two projects—each meticulously crafted—sit in close proximity: the Olivetti Showroom by Carlo Scarpa, a long-revered pilgrimage site for architects and designers, and the recently reopened Procuratie Vecchie, restored by David Chipperfield Architects. A closer look at the architectural details embedded within each work reveals a compelling exchange across time—one that unfolds through material language, spatial precision, and an unwavering commitment to craft.
MVRDV and Delft University of Technology Release _Le Grand Puzzle_, an Urban Study of Marseille in the South of France. Image Courtesy of HÇläne Bossy, Manifesta
In architecture, most practices revolve around delivering projects to clients. Offices are shaped by deadlines, budgets, and clear briefs. While this structure produces buildings, it rarely leaves space for architects to question broader issues — about how we live, how cities are changing, or what the future demands of design. But alongside this production-focused system, a quieter movement has emerged: studios, collectives, and foundations that prioritize research, experimentation, and reflection. These are the architecture think tanks — spaces designed not to build immediately, but to think first.
The idea of a think tank is not new. Traditionally found in politics, economics, or science, think tanks bring together experts to study complex problems and propose solutions. In architecture, their rise reveals a tension at the heart of the discipline. If architecture is to remain socially and environmentally relevant, can it continue to rely only on client-driven practice? Or must it carve out space for slower, deeper inquiry?
Aerial view of Beta Building in Honduras. Image Courtesy of Taller ACÁ
Understanding the temperature gradient in a building is essential in cold or temperate climates, where airtight enclosures and continuous insulation are used to prevent heat loss. However, this approach is not suitable for tropical areas like Central America, where the climate is marked by a consistent alternation between wet and dry seasons rather than four distinct ones. Factors such as proximity to the sea, elevation, and local topography influence microclimates across short distances, but high humidity remains a common challenge. Sealed, airtight walls with no ventilation can quickly become breeding grounds for mold, making the thermal strategies of temperate climates problematic. In response, local designers have developed alternative approaches that embrace, rather than resist, the outdoor environment, allowing airflow and evaporation to manage interior comfort.
The intersection between architecture and neuroscience—known as neuroarchitecture—is emerging as an innovative field, highlighting the significant influence of design, whether in urban spaces or buildings, on human perception, including the sense of safety. This area of study gains relevance in a context where urban architecture is not merely a matter of aesthetics or function, but also a crucial element in creating environments that promote well-being and safety.
During the Time Space Existence exhibition, organized by the European Cultural Centre in Venice, Pritzker Prize-winning architect Alejandro Aravena and his firm ELEMENTAL unveiled a full-scale prototype for a new approach in incremental housing solutions. Titled the USB Core, standing for Basic Services Unit housing prototype, this proposal aims to demonstrate how efficient construction can provide all the essential housing components in a minimal space. The prototype is also the result of a collaboration between the architecture office and concrete manufacturer and researcher Holcim, and is built out of a newly developed type of net-zero concrete mix. It also incorporates fully recycled aggregates, in alignment with circular economy principles. The collaboration aims to demonstrate a more environmentally conscious yet cost-effective way of providing essential services to at-risk communities without harming the planet.
While on site in Venice, ArchDaily's managing editor Maria-Cristina Florian had the chance to sit down with Alejandro Aravena and discuss the implications of this collaboration, the urgent need for housing, and the role of the architect as the coordinator of a process involving many actors.
In The Poetics of Space, French philosopher Gaston Bachelard proposes reading architecture as a lived experience, in which each environment carries emotional and symbolic meaning. Reflecting on the house, he places particular importance on thresholds (windows, doors, stairs, attics, basements) as zones of transition and rupture between the intimate and the open, the known and the unknown. For him, the window is not merely a functional opening, but a point of dreaming and contemplation: it is through the window that the inhabitant projects themselves into the world. This perspective inspires a sensitive approach to architectural work, in which boundaries are not limited to separation, but articulate imagination, memory, and desire.
