Indian architect and writer engaged in the intersection between spaces, ecologies and communities.
Buildings are physical, static, and permanent. To imagine them otherwise often requires some creative thinking. The industry has operated with this strong association between structures and permanence, unknowingly constraining perspectives on building life cycles. Innovations in building materials have opened up avenues for cirular design that challenge the long-held notion that buildings must endure indefinitely. Emerging approaches promote architecture that ebbs and flows with nature.
Ebenezer Howard's verdant visions for cities have spread eastwards, far beyond his British roots. In the 1900s, city planning welcomed the Garden City Movement as a champion of good design - a response to Western industrial urbanization. Soon, Asian cities conceived their archetypes, juggling local constraints in climate and density. Designs and development, from colonial-era experiments to contemporary mega-projects, have embraced and reinvented Howard's vision well into the 21st century.
In India, brick as a construction material holds memory, meaning, and modernity. From the aligned fired bricks of the Indus Valley Civilization to the intricate brick jaalis that decorate homes, public buildings, and landmarks, the material's legacy is deeply embedded within the subcontinent's architectural identity. Yet no one has shaped the narrative of brick in modern Indian architecture more eloquently than Laurie Baker.
The future of the architecture industry holds countless possibilities, as research in the domain progresses. One innovation is the ability for structures to be rendered acoustically invisible, absorb earthquake energy, or harvest electricity from the sounds around them. Qualities of this nature can help redefine the functionality and sustainability of buildings. Architects and scientists are at the forefront of this creation. What makes this possible are metamaterials that could offer alternative methods of designing good buildings.
Adaptive reuse has become a buzzword in the architecture industry. Framed as a sustainable and economical solution to urban decay, the practice has been adopted by cities facing pressures of climate change, real estate constraints, and cultural preservation. Architects are increasingly being hired to rehabilitate the old rather than build anew. Within this discourse is a growing sentiment towards who gets to reuse and how.
In the United States, nearly 1 in 10 children are affected with asthma, a condition with rates significantly higher in urban areas of the country. However, in a community just outside Atlanta with a population of more than 300 children, not a single case of the condition has been reported. This is by design. Most cities and neighborhoods across the country are not designed with human biology in mind, an oversight that contributes to the growing prevalence of cardiovascular disease and mental health challenges. Are we treating chronic conditions as purely medical, when they may actually be symptoms of poor design?
"The limits of our design language are the limits of our design thinking". Patrik Schumacher's statement subtly hints at a shift occurring in the built environment, moving beyond technological integration to embrace intelligence in the spaces and cities we occupy. The future proposes a possibility of buildings serving functions beyond housing human activity to actively participate in shaping urban life.
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.
There is a renewed interest in how food is produced and how its creation affects the well-being of both the land and the communities it supports. A similar shift is occurring in architecture, where material culture is emerging as the backbone of design innovation. LEVER Architecture exemplifies this movement with its pioneering "forest-to-frame" model, an approach that reimagines architecture not as an extractive process, but as a regenerative force with positive impacts that extend well beyond the boundaries of any individual building site.
Traditional building development follows a risky model - design, build at full scale, and hope everything works as planned. Sustainable housing prototypes flip this script by creating functioning micro-versions of larger visions. This methodical approach allows designers to experiment with new materials, technologies, and systems without the enormous financial and environmental risks associated with full-scale development. Sustainable building prototypes serve as compact laboratories where theories can be tested before wider implementation.
Concrete towers dominate the skylines of Asian and African cities - looming edifices embodying development. With access to the tools and materials of industrial modernity, the Global South steps onto the world stage showcasing its bounty. Yet, at the depths of rising ambitions, the construction material speaks to colonial legacies and extractive economics that result in power imbalances in the geopolitical sphere. A climate crisis on the horizon only intensifies the complicated relationship between building materials, sustainability demands, and sovereignty of many countries.
The term "biophilia" understandably conjures images of buildings engulfed by vegetation and integrated into natural landscapes. In modern architectural discourse, the concept has come to be associated with the incorporation of greenery into built environments, yet such applications represent only a sliver of biophilic design's true scope. Inarguably, nature plays a central role in biophilic design. However, its influence stretches to often-overlooked strategies that involve spatial configuration and environmental patterning. "Invisible" biophilia frequently leads to positive health outcomes for occupants, working impactfully beneath the surface.
India finds itself a watershed moment with its urban evolution. With the United Nations projecting urbanization to reach 68% by 2050, the country's metropolitan regions needs to adapt to increasing populations while maintaining equity and quality of life. India's urban population is expected to exceed 600 million by 2030, drawing attention to both urban density and sprawl. As an emerging player in the domain of high-rise development, India is restructuring how it engages with urban growth by shifting from horizontal sprawl to vertical expansion.
Beyond aesthetics, the design of our workplaces directly impacts our health. Studies reveal a clear link between poor light quality and limited access to natural views with increased sick leave. Smoke-free policies have been demonstrably effective, reducing smoking prevalence by 3.8% and lowering tobacco consumption by a significant 3.1 cigarettes per day for continuing smokers. Workplaces can either support wellbeing or be a detriment to it. Conscious office design can blend aspects of health in spaces to cultivate physical, mental, and social well-being.
The modern world is disconnected. Online interactions dominate the daily lives of people across the world. This shift is not just a result of the rise of the internet, but also a stark reflection of the decline of public spaces, particularly third places. Third places, once essential for promoting community and social cohesion, have evolved drastically over the past few decades. In today's commercialized landscape, third places face plenty of demands from users and designers alike, calling for a need to reconsider their accessibility and purpose.
India today is a country of 1.4 billion people requiring every type of building imaginable—hospitals, colleges, housing, and more. Championing sensibility and practicality in design is Brinda Somaya, an internationally acclaimed architect, urban conservationist, and academician, recently named an honorary member of the 2025 class of Fellows of the American Institute of Architects. Her work demonstrates a careful response to cultural contexts enriched with a grounded understanding of functionality, transforming them into modern relics. A four-decade career has built her portfolio that spans architecture, master-planning, and historic preservation - a constantly unfolding legacy.
Through the post-war 20th century, the Global South saw much influence from foreign architects, often invited by local governments to bring their expertise and visionary thinking. Sought as a symbol of modernity, buildings designed by "starchitects" elevated the image of nations. Decades later, as local industries advance in capabilities, the desire for foreign talent continues to exist. Is this a natural result of globalization or is the continued presence of international architects in the Global South a persistent dependency?
To a first-time visitor, Mumbai presents itself as a kaleidoscope of sensory overload. Architecturally, the peninsula city is host to numerous styles. Mumbai's architectural identity emerges from centuries of cultural exchange and colonial influence. What makes the experience unlike that of other historical cities is the density and the proximity in which juxtapositions occur.
