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In Hong Kong, where interiors and small buildings are routinely caught between two extremes—high-gloss "luxury" finishes on one end, and budget-cautious industrial roughness on the other—a third attitude has emerged through the calibration of both: a uniquely precise, relevant, and materially honest execution that is not dependent on price point. This is calibrated rawness. Calibrated rawness describes an architecture that retains the directness of matter and materiality—concrete, metal, blockwork, exposed structure, visible services—while subjecting it to rigorous control.
The "raw" is not a costume, and the "refined" is not polished; it is a discipline of precise execution, producing spaces that feel balanced and considered, yet never "made up" or overworked. Studio 1:1 demonstrates this attitude consistently across its work—and its upcoming publication, Architecture under the Radar: Three Projects in Asia (with a foreword by Nader Tehrani), offers a timely frame through which to read this ethos as more than an aesthetic, but as a repeatable architectural method.
Porous City / MVRDV and The Why Factory. Image Courtesy of Frans Parthesius, MVRDV and The Why Factory
This article is part of our new Opinion section, a format for argument-driven essays on critical questions shaping our field.
Every architectural epoch has been defined by its instruments. The compass, the drawing board, the camera, and the computer have each altered how architects think and produce. Yet the current moment feels qualitatively different. As artificial intelligence and generative systems enter daily workflows, tools cease to be passive extensions of the architect's hand and begin to operate as semi-autonomous agents. They propose, optimize, and simulate, producing outcomes that are, at times, beyond the author's full anticipation.
MVRDVhas started construction on the EU TUMO Convergence Center, a new educational and research facility in Yerevan, Armenia. Located in Tumanyan Park, the five-story building will expand TUMO's campus, providing spaces for free technology and creative education for teenagers and adults, alongside research and co-working areas for technology and design companies. Positioned on a hilly outcrop above the Hrazdan River Gorge, the project responds to the surrounding topography while establishing visual connections with the city, the gorge, and Mount Ararat. Construction officially commenced on 24 February, with local and international representatives in attendance.
Battersea Power Station is a former coal-fired power station located on the south bank of the River Thames in London, originally designed by architects J. Theo Halliday and Giles Gilbert Scott. Notable for its appearance on the cover of Pink Floyd's 1977 studio album Animals and in Alfred Hitchcock's 1936 film Sabotage, the station is one of the world's largest brick buildings and is known for its Art Deco interior fittings and décor. Recognized today as part of modern industrial heritage, the site's transformation into a commercial development began in 2012, with the adaptive reuse guided by a masterplan designed by Rafael Viñoly. On February 16, Battersea Power Station announced the appointment of the strategic urban design practice Studio Egret West to evolve the original masterplan for the remaining 16 acres of the 42-acre riverside neighbourhood in the southwest London.
Urban masterplans remain an exploratory ground for unbuilt speculation, offering insight into how cities might recalibrate mobility, ecology, and collective life in response to accelerating environmental and social pressures. In this Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected projects bring together a range of large-scale proposals that examine urban centers, waterfront districts, infrastructural corridors, and cultural landscapes as spatial frameworks for reconnection and resilience. Rather than treating the masterplan as a rigid blueprint, these projects approach urbanism as an adaptive system shaped by climate, topography, infrastructure, and public space.
Across varied geographies, from Northern European town centers and Mediterranean coastal districts to Central Asian polycentric hubs and Gulf megacities, the proposals explore diverse architectural and urban strategies. They range from park-led civic transformations built over highway tunnels to elevated pedestrian networks above active transport systems, mixed-use blocks structured by historic planning logics, marina developments integrating environmental stewardship, and research-driven models for equitable landscape urbanization.
In the first days after birth, the bee remains inside the nest, cleaning cells and being fed by other workers. Over time, it begins organizing pollen stores, regulating the hive's temperature, and guarding the entrance. Only in the final weeks of its life does it leave the shelter to fly. It is in the moment of flight that its trajectory begins to intersect with architecture and the city. In search of nectar, it moves across a territory shaped not only by its spatial memory and the availability of flowers, but by the way we construct the built environment. Each movement becomes a negotiation with urban space: impermeable surfaces that disrupt natural cycles, air currents intensified between buildings, vegetation-free voids, scattered green fragments between lots, and technical rooftops.
Courtesy of SolarLab, Photo by doublespacephoto.com. Image RRC Polytech Manitou a bi Bii daziigae / Diamond Schmitt Architects & Number TEN Architectural Group
As environmental accountability becomes embedded in design culture, the building envelope is being reconsidered not just as a protective skin, but as an active energy-producing surface. Treating solar technology as a material rather than an attachment reshapes how architecture is conceived and detailed. Color, texture, rhythm, and assembly become inseparable from performance. Building-Integrated Photovoltaics (BIPV) operate within this expanded definition of materiality. By integrating solar technology into façades and rainscreens from the earliest project stages, architects can reduce redundancy, align energy goals with design intent, and rethink how envelopes are composed. Yet translating this ambition into buildable systems requires technical precision and construction intelligence.
The annual Winter Stations design competition returns to Toronto for its twelfth edition, once again transforming the lifeguard stations of Woodbine Beach into temporary works of public art. On view from February 16 to March 30, 2026, this year's exhibition is organized under the theme Mirage, inviting participants to examine perception, illusion, and the shifting boundaries between what is seen and what is constructed. Selected from more than 300 international submissions, three winning proposals from Canada, the United States, and a Germany–Ukraine collaboration are presented alongside two installations developed by university teams. Installed along the frozen shoreline of Lake Ontario, the projects reinterpret seasonal infrastructure as platforms for spatial experimentation during the winter months.
The final piece of the central tower of Barcelona's Sagrada Familia has been laid in place, bringing the church to its maximum height of 172.5 m. La Sagrada Familia, one of architectural history's most notorious unfinished buildings, became Antoni Gaudí's defining project in 1883, when he transformed a neo-Gothic design into one of the best-known structures of Catalan Modernisme. One hundred and forty-four years after construction began, the upper section of the 17-meter-high, four-sided steel and glass cross was winched into position at 11 a.m. on Friday, February 20, completing the tower dedicated to Jesus Christ. This milestone confirms the project's final stage of construction, which, back in March 2024, was announced as one of the most anticipated completions of 2026, commemorating the centenary of Antoni Gaudí's death.
Hospitality-driven programs, specifically coffee shops and social hubs, are partly defined by their role as "third places": social anchors that bridge the gap between private and public life. Unlike residential or commercial office programs that require rigid partitioning for privacy and utility, they rely on expansive, open-plan environments. This allows for an architectural strategy of minimal intervention, allowing the structural envelope to remain intact. By avoiding the subdivision of space, architects maintain uninterrupted sightlines to original masonry, timber frames, or decorative ceilings, ensuring the building's historical narrative remains the protagonist. Simultaneously, the commercial activity provides the necessary maintenance and public engagement to ensure the site's continued existence.
As the primary interface between interior spaces and the external environment, facades play a central role in both the performance and architectural expression of buildings. Increasingly, they are no longer seen as static envelopes, but as active mediators between climate, energy, use, and aesthetic. In dense urban contexts, however, they are also gaining relevance for another reason: while roof surfaces are often limited, fragmented, or already occupied by technical equipment, vertical envelopes remain largely underutilized in terms of energy production.
Kengo Kuma and Associates was recently awarded first prize in the competition to design a new library in Rzeszów, the capital of the Subcarpathian Voivodeship in southeastern Poland. The city, home to nearly 200,000 residents, lies on the Wisłok River and is known as a center for the aviation industry. Strategically positioned along the main Kraków-Lviv railway and road corridor, it also serves as an important transit point near the Ukrainian border. Located on Józef Piłsudski Avenue, the new library is conceived as a connector between the Marshal's Office of the Podkarpackie Voivodeship and the nearby Secondary School Complex, reinforcing the area's civic character. The program combines traditional library functions with cultural, educational, and artistic spaces. In addition to reading and collection areas, an expanded event zone includes a music hall, multifunctional hall, conference rooms, and administrative areas. A spiraling library volume forms the tallest element of the complex, while event spaces and roof terraces extend the program outward, linking the building's activities with the surrounding city.
Architecture is often evaluated through finished forms, yet some practices operate in a different register, one where design unfolds through relationships, time, and use rather than through a single outcome. For CatalyticAction, participation is not a parallel social activity, but the means through which spaces are conceived, constructed, and sustained over time.
Based between Beirut and London, the practice has worked across the Middle East and Europe, developing public spaces, schools, playgrounds, and everyday urban infrastructures through long-term collaboration with local communities. Grounded in participatory research and collective decision-making, this approach was recognized through ArchDaily's 2025 Next Practices Awards, highlighting a mode of practice where architecture is understood as a shared, evolving process rather than a fixed object. In this context, architectural value is measured through continuity, use, and collective ownership, rather than through form alone.
Contemporary workplaces promise collaboration, yet they increasingly struggle to provide spaces for privacy. In an era dominated by open-plan layouts, small acoustic spaces like phone booths and focus pods have become essential for maintaining productivity and privacy. However, the paradox of "booking conflicts" alongside "underutilized spaces" has turned these areas into operational challenges. The question, then, is how workplaces can balance efficiency, productivity, and individualized user experiences within increasingly complex environments.
Bir Ettin Restoration / Bled El Abar Collective. Image Courtesy of Bled El Abar Collective
In some languages, the very word for building refers to its immovability. The discipline of engineering related to buildings is referred to as statics. Thus, architecture is closely related to the fixed and the immobile. And yet, for millions of nomadic people around the world, shelters must be of a light and distinctly movable structure, while home is the vast landscape in which they reside. Such lifestyles, which carry centuries of traditions, are constantly under threat from the pull factors of sedentary life in towns and cities. In Tunisia, one project acknowledges the risk of heritage loss and attempts to improve conditions for nomadic herders.
Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games- Athletes Village (HARUMI FLAG). Image via Wikimedia Commons CC 2.0
With the Milano–Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics underway, it is worth looking back at how the Olympic Village has evolved from a purely functional solution into a strategic urban project. From improvised housing compounds to key pieces of urban regeneration, Olympic Villages have repeatedly functioned as large-scale experiments in how parts of the city can be built within a short period of time.
Designed under intense time pressure and for a highly specific population, these environments reveal shifting ideas about housing, collective life, and the urban legacy of mega-events. Across different editions, the Olympic Village reflects broader ways in which events, housing, and cities intersect under conditions of urgency.
To fully know a city's architectural heritage, one must look beyond its designated sites and iconic buildings. For many, understanding a city's urban fabric and what makes it tick also means discovering the smaller-scale, locally appreciated, conserved buildings and popular gathering spaces. This is especially true when considering bustling Vietnamese cities, with their peculiar architectural characteristics, which can only be appreciated when learning about their many inspirations and historic layers, combining traditional Vietnamese motifs, modernism, local materiality, and climatic design solutions, but mostly by learning about the site constraints that are addressed through the implementation of the narrow tube houses and low-rise buildings.
These key styles and architectural movements are often maintained and even highlighted, as architects give a second life to many rundown or abandoned buildings, transforming them into popular coffee joints. They are reviving smaller heritage sites by pushing for their restoration and regular use by the community, encouraging visitors to acknowledge the historic relevance of the space, as they covet it.
Some types of work only become visible when they are no longer done. They are discrete, repetitive, rarely celebrated, yet they quietly sustain the functioning of any operation. In architecture, this dimension rarely appears in the images that circulate. When we think about the discipline, we evoke seductive renderings, carefully lit perspectives, precise plans, drawings that promise possible or even utopian futures. Yet the layer that supports these formal gestures is not found in the image, but in specification, detailing, and documentation.
Since artificial intelligence moved to the center of architectural debate, the conversation has largely been driven by its ability to generate forms and atmospheres in seconds. Stylistic simulations, conceptual variations, and visual experimentation have come to symbolize technological advancement in the field. There is something understandable in this fascination: architecture has always engaged with representation as a way of imagining what does not yet exist.
Today, 20 February, the United Nations marks World Day of Social Justice under the theme "Renewed Commitment to Social Development and Social Justice." This year's observance takes place in the aftermath of the Second World Summit for Social Development in Doha and the adoption of the Doha Political Declaration, renewing the commitments first articulated in the 1995 Copenhagen Declaration: poverty eradication, full and productive employment, decent work for all, and social inclusion as interdependent pillars of development. At a moment defined by widening inequalities and accelerating environmental and technological transitions, the 2026 commemoration calls for translating political affirmation into measurable, cross-sectoral implementation.
On January 30, an exhibition entitled "Concours Beaubourg 1971: Une mutation de l'architecture" opened in Paris, showcasing archival material from the competition that resulted in the selection of the current Centre Pompidou, designed by Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers between 1969 and 1974. In view of the building's recent closure for renovation, approximately 100 archival documents, including some never before exhibited from the Centre Pompidou's collections (plans, drawings, photographs, models, etc.), are on display at the Académie d'Architecture at Place des Vosges until February 22, 2026. Co-produced by the Académie d'Architecture and the Centre Pompidou, with support from the École nationale supérieure d'architecture de Saint-Étienne, the exhibition presents alternative, imaginative, and sometimes unbuildable proposals for the building. It offers a review of a fertile period in architectural history, highlighting the lasting effects of the "Beaubourg competition" on the discipline and profession.
A Gothic cathedral can take centuries to complete. A world exposition pavilion may stand for six months. A ritual structure in Kolkata rises and vanishes within five days. Yet each draws pilgrimage, shapes collective memory, and reorganizes urban life. If heritage has long been defined by what endures, architecture repeatedly shows that cultural authority can also belong to what gathers people.
For much of the twentieth century, conservation frameworks privileged permanence. The Venice Charter, adopted by the International Council on Monuments and Sites, focused on safeguarding monuments and their material authenticity. Cultural value was tied to physical fabric such as stone, brick, and timber. To protect heritage was to preserve what stood. The logic felt stable, even self-evident.
A revitalized canning factory in a coastal Portuguese city, a memorial park in Ethiopia, a small-town Brazilian home, a wooden pavilion evoking Bahrain's heritage, and 11 other visionary projects comprise the winners of the 2026 ArchDaily Building of the Year Awards. Chosen over three weeks of public voting, the winners are representative of the current architectural landscape, reflecting a diversity of approaches, materialities and aesthetics, while also showcasing common threads across cultures.
In its 17th edition, this year's Building of the Year Awards received more than 120,000 votes from over 100 countries, marking a record-breaking year for the world's largest community-driven architecture award. The winners represent 14 different countries, cultures and perspectives, coming from Brazil, Canada, Chile, Colombia, Denmark, Ethiopia, Germany, India, Indonesia, Japan, Portugal, South Korea, United States and Vietnam.
https://www.archdaily.com/1038873/meet-the-15-winning-projects-of-the-2026-archdaily-building-of-the-year-awardsDaniela Porto