Across cities worldwide, architecture unfolds continuously at the scale of people and community—not only through new buildings, renovations, or monumental works. "Third spaces" are especially revealing. Consider the street-side culinary realm: how seating, serving, and lingering occupy the edge of the street often discloses a city's cultural codes and spatial habits. What forms of dining and inhabitation have emerged in response to local climate, regulation, and social custom—and how have they evolved over time?
In parts of Europe, for instance, al fresco in Italy and en terrasse in France name culturally specific ways of dining in public, drawing the meal into the urban field—attuned to weather, air, and the passive sociability of people-watching. Since COVID-19, New York City has similarly expanded outdoor dining, reflecting a community-driven desire to engage the streetscape while eating—an everyday, street-level "third place" within a dense metropolis.
Beneath the visible surface of cities lies an invisible architecture. Subways, tunnels, water systems, data cables, and bunkers form a dense network that sustains urban life while remaining largely unseen. The ground beneath our feet is not a void but a complex territory that holds the infrastructures, memories, and anxieties of our age. In recent years, as land becomes scarce and climate pressures intensify, architects and urbanists have turned their gaze downward, rediscovering the subterranean as both a physical and conceptual frontier. To design underground is to engage with the unseen mechanisms that shape the world above.
The subterranean has long been a site where architecture intersects with politics, technology, and belief. From the catacombs of Rome to the industrial subways of modernity, descent has symbolized both protection and exposure. Twentieth-century urbanism transformed this gesture into a system: metros, shelters, and utilities redefined the city section as an instrument of governance. Beneath the promise of efficiency and progress, the underground absorbed the anxieties of an era of war, surveillance, and collapse. Its evolution reveals not only how societies build, but also how they fear.
Today, the ground has become the new frontier of urban expansion and ecological adaptation. As digital infrastructures, energy systems, and climatic buffers migrate below grade, architecture confronts a space both technical and metaphysical — essential yet marginal, invisible yet decisive. To think in sections rather than in plan is to recognise that contemporary cities no longer exist solely in their skylines but also in their depths. The challenge for architecture is not only to occupy that space, but to render it legible, to turn the unseen into knowledge, and the hidden into a new terrain of design.
Building Frame of the House. Image Courtesy of IGArchitects
Founded in 2020 by Masato Igarashi, IGArchitects is an architectural practice based in Tokyo and Saitama, Japan. The studio, one of the winners of the ArchDaily 2025 Next Practices Awards, explores enduring architecture through a careful yet assertive treatment of structure, scale, and materiality. Prior to establishing his own practice, Igarashi worked at the large-scale firm Shimizu Sekkei as well as the Suppose Design Office, gaining experience across projects ranging from major developments to smaller, concept-driven works. This breadth of experience continues to inform IGArchitects' current focus on residential and commercial architecture across Japan.
Bazaar in Hyderabad, India. Photo by Kanishq Kancharla on Unsplash
Architecture is most often represented as a stable object: a building captured at a moment of visual clarity, isolated from surrounding contingencies. Plans, sections, and photographs promise legibility by suspending time. Yet many of the world's most enduring public environments resist this mode of representation altogether. They are not designed to be read instantaneously, nor do they reveal their logic through form alone. Their spatial intelligence emerges gradually, through repetition, occupation, and duration.
The bazaar belongs firmly within this category. It cannot be understood through a single drawing or a finished elevation. Its organization is not fixed but rehearsed. What sustains it is not purely architectural composition, but shared timing, collective memory, and long-standing patterns of use. Togetherness in the bazaar does not arise from formal design decisions; it is produced through repeated encounters, negotiated proximities, and social familiarity accumulated over time.
Spanning multiple geographies and scales, this week's architecture news reflects ongoing discussions around long-term planning, institutional frameworks, and the public role of architecture. National-scale urban initiatives and large civic developments point to how planning and infrastructure are being used to reorganize cities and territorial systems, while parallel attention to stadiums, cultural facilities, and mixed-use projects highlights the expanding civic ambitions of large-scale architecture. Alongside these, interviews and heritage-focused projects foreground participatory practices and the careful reuse of existing structures, highlighting architecture's capacity to operate within complex social and political conditions. Recognition platforms and professional programs further situate these practices within a broader architectural discourse, offering insight into how contemporary work is evaluated and shared across regions.
Construction has begun on the new Bishoftu International Airport (BIA), designed by Zaha Hadid Architects for Ethiopian Airlines Group. Ethiopia's Prime Minister, Abiy Ahmed Ali, laid the cornerstone at the airport's groundbreaking ceremony on Saturday, January 10, 2026. The new airport will be located approximately 40 kilometers south of the Ethiopian capital, Addis Ababa, and is planned to become Africa's largest airport. Phase One of the project is designed to serve 60 million passengers per year. Subsequent phases are expected to increase capacity to up to 110 million passengers annually, supported by four runways and parking for 270 aircraft, more than four times the capacity of Ethiopia's current main airport, according to statements by the Prime Minister.
Breakfast nooks emerged in the early twentieth century in response to increasing domestic density and shifting ideas about everyday life. Rooted in the American Arts and Crafts movement and popularized through bungalow housing of the 1910s and 1920s, they evolved from the more formal Victorian breakfast room into compact, built-in spaces embedded within the kitchen. As houses grew smaller and more economical, architects and millwork companies used fixed benches and tables to occupy corners, alcoves, and bay windows that might otherwise be inefficient. These light-filled enclosures provided an affordable means of concentrating daily activities while preserving comfort and spatial clarity.
The pursuit of stronger, lighter, and more durable materials has guided architecture long before polymers or carbon fibers existed. One of the earliest large-scale examples of composite materials can be found in the Great Wall of China, where stone, clay bricks, and organic fibers such as reeds and willow branches were blended to create a resilient and lasting structure. These early techniques reveal a timeless intuition: distinct materials, when combined thoughtfully, produce properties unattainable by any single element. As the construction sector faces urgent ecological pressures, this intuition is being revisited through the lens of sustainability, with architects and engineers exploring bio-based, recycled, and hybrid composites designed not only for performance but also for circularity and environmental responsibility.
Snøhetta, in collaboration with the Beijing Institute of Architectural Design (BIAD), has won the international competition to design the Beijing Art Museum in Tongzhou District, Beijing. The project officially broke ground on December 31, 2025, with completion and public opening anticipated in 2029. Conceived as a new landmark for the eastern part of the city, the museum will form part of Tongzhou's cultural and civic development strategy as Beijing's sub-center. The commission marks Snøhetta's second major cultural project in the Chinese capital, following the Beijing Library, which opened to the public in 2023 and has since become a key reference for contemporary civic architecture in the city.
A new museum dedicated to the science of carbon fiber opened in Fiorenzuola d'Arda, Italy, on December 17, 2025. The project dates back to 2021 and was designed by CRA–Carlo Ratti Associati in collaboration with the late Italian architect Italo Rota. Commissioned by MAE, a manufacturer of equipment for carbon fiber production, the project transforms one of the world's largest archives on carbon fiber into a dynamic museum, uniting research with archival preservation and turning the archive into a space for interactive exploration. The project is described by its designers as a "living museum," a place to read, inquire, and connect ideas.
The architectural history of North American cities in the 20th century is often characterized by the pursuit of urban renewal. In the United States, Boston, Portland, and San Francisco are just some examples of when municipal governments prioritized high-speed vehicular infrastructure over the existing urban fabric. In Canada, Montreal would have followed this trajectory if not for the intervention of several figures throughout its history, most notably Blanche Lemco van Ginkel (1923–2022). A Harvard-trained planner and architect who, along with her husband Sandy Van Ginkel, advocated for the preservation of urban heritage while applying the principles of modernist infrastructure.
Having explored adaptability at the city scale, we are now zooming in on the building itself—and, crucially, on practice. How can architects, developers, and consultants embed adaptability as a measurable, mainstream outcome? This question will be on the agenda at the Adaptable Building Conference (ABC) on January 22 at the Nieuwe Instituut in Rotterdam, where architects, engineers, policymakers, and industry leaders will explore the potential of adaptable buildings—and how to deliver them at scale.
Reflecting on the modern city, Walter Benjamin described the flâneur, a figure who walks without a defined destination, attentive to details, chance encounters, and the narratives that emerge from urban space. This way of being in the city, shaped by observation and openness to the unexpected, has long been in tension with the rationalist and functionalist ideals that came to guide urban planning throughout the twentieth century. Streets designed primarily for efficiency and flow rarely leave room for detours, pauses, or the coexistence of different rhythms of life.
Jane Jacobs was also one of the voices that challenged this predominantly rationalist logic, arguing that truly vibrant streets are those capable of sustaining the diversity of everyday life, its informal exchanges, and the forms of care and natural surveillance that emerge from them. What these authors share is a fundamental insight: streets are not merely infrastructures for circulation, but social ecosystems, shaped by the relationships, uses, and encounters that take place within them.
In a balance of aesthetics, performance, and versatility, HIMACS shows a solid surface material of choice for many architects and designers. Taking a further step forward, the entire range of standard HIMACS sinks and basins is now officially SCS certified, containing a minimum of 8% pre-consumer recycled content. This certification enhances the material's technical and visual appeal by providing a more sustainable option without compromising quality or functionality.
From bathroom vanities with integrated basins to kitchen islands with flush-mounted sinks, HIMACS shapes offer a seamless balance of style and function. Each component integrates effortlessly with the surrounding HIMACS surface, creating a continuous, grout-free finish that is both elegant and easy to maintain.
Qalandiya Rendering. Image Courtesy of RIWAQ – Centre for Architectural Conservation
Qalandiya: the Green Historic Maze, developed by RIWAQ – Centre for Architectural Conservation, has been awarded the Grand Prize at the Holcim Foundation Awards 2025, recognizing its sensitive and deeply contextual approach to heritage conservation in Palestine, selected among the 20 winners of this year's edition. Located in Qalandiya, north of Jerusalem, the project reactivates a historic village center long affected by political fragmentation, neglect, and spatial disconnection. Through an incremental rehabilitation strategy, the project restores deteriorated structures using traditional knowledge, local stone masonry, and native materials, transforming abandoned fabric into active public spaces while reinforcing environmental resilience through passive climate strategies and landscape-based infrastructure.
Malabo served as the capital city of Equatorial Guinea from the country's independence from Spain on October 12, 1968, until January 2, 2026, when a decree issued by President Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo officially transferred the capital to Ciudad de la Paz ("City of Peace"), located in Djibloho Province. Obiang formalized the move as part of a long-planned territorial reorganization. While the former capital remains an important economic center on Bioko Island, Ciudad de la Paz was conceived as a planned capital on Africa's mainland. The initiative to relocate the capital dates back to 2008, with construction beginning in 2011. The new capital, also referred to as Djibloho, after the province, or Oyala, has been framed by the government as a decentralization effort aimed at improving national accessibility.
Cultural institutions represent an active field for unbuilt architectural exploration, reflecting how architects continue to question the role of public buildings in shaping urban life. In this Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected proposals bring together a range of projects that engage with museums, exhibition centers, and diplomatic buildings as sites of public encounter. Rather than treating these programs as fixed types, these projects approach them as evolving spatial settings through which cities engage with history, knowledge, and representation.
Across varied geographies, from Wenzhou and Helsinki to Belgrade, Debrecen, Mexico City, and Nürnberg, the proposals explore different responses to contemporary cultural architecture. They range from adaptive reuse of industrial and ideological structures to new buildings embedded in waterfronts, parks, and residential neighborhoods. While some emphasize continuity with historical contexts, others experiment with lighter structures, environmental strategies, or new relationships between interior programs and the public realm. Together, they offer a snapshot of how cultural institutions are being reimagined in diverse urban conditions.
Throughout history, fish markets have played a singular role in mediating the relationship between city and sea. From the port agoras of antiquity, through medieval markets established along docks and estuaries, to the large covered structures of the 19th century, these spaces have been instrumental in shaping coastal cities. More than simple infrastructures for food supply, fish markets express cultural practices and modes of occupation rooted in proximity to water, consolidating themselves as intense and highly social public spaces. Within them, architecture, landscape, and social dynamics intertwine directly, revealing how the built environment can translate maritime traditions and reinforce the identity of coastal and port communities.
The 2026 Color of the Year selections show a shift toward nuanced, layered palettes and understated spatial calm, moving beyond the saturated earth tones of previous forecasts. Pantone's Cloud Dancer, a soft white, sets a foundation of clarity and simplicity, while Sherwin-Williams and C2 Paint highlight the versatility of mid-tone neutrals and soft ochres, emphasizing material authenticity and adaptability across different interior surfaces and lighting conditions. Benjamin Moore and Graham & Brown explore deeper, atmospheric hues that balance warm and cool undertones, and Behr, Valspar, and AkzoNobel introduce muted greens and blue-based tones aimed at creating restorative, composed, and visually engaging interiors.
New Manchester United Stadium aerial render. Image Courtesy of Foster + Partners
During 2025, several sports infrastructure projects were announced that remain on our radar, most of which are scheduled for completion between 2028 and 2030. Located across Asia, Europe, Africa, the Middle East, and North America, these projects reflect contemporary masterplan strategies for the transformation of large sports venues within their urban contexts. Many of the stadiums are planned as part of broader redevelopment frameworks that include new public spaces, mixed-use programs, event facilities, and mobility upgrades, rather than as isolated structures. Designs led by international offices such as Populous, Foster + Partners, Heatherwick Studio, OMA, Gensler, AFL Architects, and VUILD illustrate a range of architectural, urban, and infrastructural responses to the evolving role of large sports facilities.
The potential of existing buildings to shape cities and communities in flux through reuse and adaptation is the key focus of HouseEurope! and their activism: addressing the pressing challenge across much of Europe, where it is often easier, cheaper, and faster to demolish buildings than to renovate. For decades, construction policies, industrial practices, and market systems have favored new development, often undervaluing the cultural, social, and environmental significance of existing structures. For their work advocating systemic change in architecture, HouseEurope! received the 2025 OBEL Award under the theme "Ready Made." In a conversation with ArchDaily, collective members of HouseEurope! Alina Kolar and Olaf Grawert discussed the organization's approach to architecture, policy, and collective action.
In recent years, food has taken on a renewed role within architecture, not simply as a program or typology, but as a shared spatial practice. Beyond restaurants or dining design, communal eating spaces are increasingly understood as environments where presence, ritual, and time intersect, allowing people to gather, stay, and coexist. In these settings, eating does not just happen within space; it actively shapes it, temporarily transforming ordinary, borrowed, or improvised environments into places of exchange.
This shift is visible across a wide range of built projects, installations, and community spaces that use shared meals as a way of bringing people together. Initiatives such as Fondo Supper Club frame dining as a social platform, using food to connect artists, designers, and local communities through conversation and collaboration. Similarly, sit.feast, presented during Milan Design Week 2024, approached the table as a spatial installation, one where sitting and eating together became the primary means of collectively producing space.