Elevation is often framed as progress, lifting movement above the friction of the city and smoothing circulation into uninterrupted flow. Every act of lifting produces a secondary condition in its wake. Beneath flyovers, metro lines, and railway viaducts, a second ground emerges as shaded, ambiguous, and rarely planned with the same intent as what moves above. These spaces are not incidental leftovers. They are the spatial consequence of a design decision that privileges speed, clearance, and efficiency, redistributing value and visibility across the city in the process.
What lies below is not empty. It is structured, constrained, and defined by infrastructure, left without a clear role. Studies on elevated highways consistently describe these undercroft zones as residual spaces, formed when transport systems are conceived independently of the ground they pass through. An Arup report on spaces beneath viaducts notes how they often disrupt pedestrian continuity while remaining outside formal planning frameworks. Similarly, recent academic reviews of under-flyover environments highlight that these areas are rarely integrated into urban design strategies at all. The result is a peculiar condition: space that is physically present and structurally determined, but programmatically undefined.
Residential architecture continues to offer a productive ground for unbuilt exploration, revealing how architects respond to site, climate, and constraint at the scale of the domestic. In this Unbuilt edition, submitted by the ArchDaily community, the selected projects bring together a range of proposals that reconsider the house not as an isolated object, but as a spatial system shaped by its environment. These works position architecture as a framework that negotiates between ground, material, and inhabitation, often emerging directly from the conditions of the site.
Across varied geographies, from Kerala and Cartagena to Amman, Tromsø, and Zwolle, the projects demonstrate diverse responses to domestic architecture. They include compact urban dwellings organized through vertical layering, courtyard houses partially embedded within the ground, residences adapted to sloping terrains, and typological transformations shaped by regulatory constraints. Some projects explore linear spatial sequences rooted in traditional proportions, while others organize domestic life around atria or excavated voids that mediate light, ventilation, and privacy. Together, these proposals examine how the house can be structured through section, material, and environmental performance rather than formal expression.
The California Science Center is a dynamic destination where visitors of all ages can explore the wonders of science through hands-on exhibits, live demonstrations, innovative programs, and large-format films. The Center and IMAX Theater are located in the historic Los Angeles Exposition Park, where an expansion has been under construction since June 2022. The new Samuel Oschin Air and Space Center, designed by ZGF Architects, is a 200,000-square-foot addition that will nearly double the Science Center's educational exhibit space. The building was completed on April 13, 2026. Its centerpiece is the retired NASA spacecraft Space Shuttle Endeavour, used for missions from 1992 until its 25th and final mission in 2011.
In 2012, Cities Without Ground: A Hong Kong Guidebook offered one of the clearest documentations of a condition that many residents experience intuitively but rarely name: Hong Kong's dependence on elevated, second-storey urbanism. Through drawings and careful mapping, the book captured how the city's pedestrian networks are routinely lifted above the street—separating people from traffic, extending commercial frontage beyond ground level, and negotiating a hilly topography where "flat" circulation is often an engineered achievement. Since its publication, these systems have only grown in prominence—not only for their sheer spatial complexity, but for the way they recast public space as something continuous yet selective, connective yet curated.
This fascination, however, has always carried a parallel unease. Elevated passages can be generous and effective, offering sheltered movement and reliable connectivity. Yet they also raise persistent questions: where do these routes lead, who gets to connect, and what kinds of programs are invited—or excluded—by this "privileged" level of circulation? The second-storey city does not simply bypass vehicles; it can also bypass the street as a civic stage. Over time, it risks shifting architectural attention away from ground-level public life, relieving designers from having to negotiate pedestrian scale, frontage, and the messy reciprocity of the street. In its worst moments, the result is a landscape of podium clusters and sealed megastructures—buildings that perform connectivity at Level 2 while remaining indifferent to the neighborhood at Level 0.
Pico House, part of Los Angeles Plaza Historic District. Image by Daniel L. Lu - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0
Today, the urban form of Los Angeles is characterized by 20th-century sprawl and extensive automotive infrastructure. However, the physical reality of the city's original core reveals a more complex history that is deeply rooted in Hispanic heritage. In fact, Los Angeles did not originate from the standardized American land system that defines most of the United States' territory. Instead, it is a product of the Spanish urban tradition in the Americas, which followed a structure repeated across major cities on the continent. The intersection of these systems created a layered urban geometry and history that remains visible in the city's contemporary street patterns.
When Los Angeleswas founded in 1781 as a pueblo by Felipe de Neve, it was an outpost of the Viceroyalty of New Spain. Viceroyalties were political divisions of the Spanish territories in America, and by the late 18th century, New Spain was vast. It stretched from southern Costa Rica, all the way north to Alta California, bordering the east at the Mississippi River and the newly independent United States of America. At this time, Mexico City functioned as the primary administrative and economic hub, leaving frontier regions like Alta California to rely on a specific triad of settlements: missions (religious), presidios (military), and pueblos (civilian).
As major cultural events, institutional transformations, and new architectural commissions unfold across different geographies, this week's discourse highlights how architecture operates at the intersection of public life, creativity, and long-term adaptation. With Milan Design Week 2026 foregrounding process, experimentation, and citywide participation, the projects and initiatives emerging this week point to a broader shift toward openness, accessibility, and experiential engagement across disciplines and urban contexts. Ongoing investments in cultural infrastructure, from new museums to large-scale renovations and competition-winning proposals, further underscore how institutions continue to recalibrate their spatial and social roles in response to evolving environmental, technological, and cultural demands.
In February 2022, construction began on the Goethe-Institut in Dakar, designed by Kéré Architecture. Present in Senegal since 1978, the Goethe-Institut is reaching a milestone in strengthening cultural ties between Germany, Senegal, and West Africa with this new building. As the first purpose-built Goethe-Institut on the African continent, it embodies a long-term commitment to supporting the creative industries and fostering intellectual exchange. From April 16 to 18, 2026, the Goethe-Institut will host a series of events to mark the inauguration of its new headquarters.
What do lightweight materials bring to public space with an ethical, ecological, and non-extractive design principle? Various textile textures offer a point of entry, being closer to the body than heavy conventional structural materials. Through its flexibility and responsiveness, it enables a form of soft enclosure rather than a fixed boundary in architectural space. Responding to minimal environmental stimuli, the fabric brings continuous movements into space. When layered or assembled, it produces gradations of density, depth, and enclosure, while recent innovative fabrication technologies extend the possibilities of its form and structural durability.
Semi-transparent materials further mediate the conditions of visual permeability and bodily experience of the space. By transmitting and filtering light, they blur clear separations between interior and exterior, solid and void, creating thresholds that are neither fully open nor fully enclosed, but constantly in negotiation. Reinterpreting structure in urban space through lightweight, translucency, and softness opens up alternative modes of spatial perception and bodily engagement.
Qapital Tower Ecuador. Image Courtesy of Kengo Kuma and Associates(KKAA)
Kengo Kuma & Associates has unveiled plans for Qapital, a 32-story mixed-use tower set to rise in Quito, Ecuador, in collaboration with local developer Uribe Schwarzkopf. Scheduled for completion in 2029, the project marks Japanese architectKengo Kuma's first work in the country, extending the studio's international portfolio into the South American context. Located opposite La Carolina Park in Quito's central business district, the 125.8-meter tower introduces a vertically organized program that brings together residential, commercial, and shared amenities.
V&A East Museum, designed by architects O'Donnell + Tuomey, will open to the public on 18 April 2026. Assigned to the firm in 2015, the new building is located in the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, near its recently opened sister facility, the V&A East Storehouse, designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro. Located in East London, the UK's newest cultural quarter supported by the Mayor of London, the two-building complex aims to "spotlight the many ways global artists, designers, and makers use creativity to shape the world." Dedicated to creative opportunity and its power to bring change, the museum's five public levels contain two permanent galleries, a 900 sqm temporary exhibition gallery, a top-floor project and event space, learning facilities, and a café.
Architecture has long been drawn to the idea of lightness. From early modernist experiments that sought to preserve landscapes, elevating buildings has been understood as a way to preserve the ground while maintaining continuity across the terrain. Volumes are lifted on columns, infrastructures detach circulation from the surface, and entire programs are suspended above the ground.
This was formalised in the early twentieth century through Le Corbusier's concept of the pilotis, which proposed the liberation of the ground floor from enclosure. By raising buildings on columns, architects sought to maintain continuity with the terrain, allowing movement, vegetation, and collective use to unfold beneath constructed volumes. The building would occupy the air, while the ground would remain open, accessible, and shared.
Ecuador's territory embraces a remarkable diversity of landscapes, ranging from the Pacific Coast to the peaks of the Andes, the vast expanse of the Amazon rainforest, and the volcanic Galápagos Islands. Each region of the country presents its own distinctive characteristics, reflected in its varied environmental, cultural, and social contexts. While Latin American architecture is rooted in rich ancestral traditions, native construction techniques, and local materials, contemporary Ecuadorian architecture expresses an evolving identity that blends these elements with actual demands. Tradition and innovation, local resources and modern techniques, along with social responsibility and aesthetics, interact with the natural environment, urban conditions, and social contexts.
Lineadacqua bathroom system by antoniolupi. Image Courtesy of antoniolupi
What if the most advanced elements in a bathroom were the ones you could barely see? In spaces where walls, ceilings, and floors form uninterrupted surfaces, fixtures retreat, and water itself becomes the primary material shaping experience. The careful placement of fixtures in bathrooms, such as sinks, taps, showerheads, and shower drains, each asserting their presence as both an object and a function. But what happens when these elements begin to disappear?
Instead of adding mounted elements to a bathroom's design, some approaches work through subtraction. The bathroom is no longer composed of visible objects, but understood as a continuous surface. Fixtures recede into walls and ceilings, allowing water, light, and atmosphere to take precedence. What takes shape is a form of minimalism and something more: an architecture that absorbs its technical systems entirely, allowing fixtures to disappear, leaving only their effects. The experience itself becomes the protagonist, no longer mediated by visible objects, but shaped directly through water, light, and space.
Entrance to Palazzo Citterio, indicative render. Image Courtesy of ACDF and Bethan Laura Wood Studio
From April 20 to 26, Milan Design Week 2026 returns as a citywide platform where design operates as both a cultural practice and a form of exploration. Framed by the Fuorisalone theme "Be the Project," this year's edition shifts the focus from outcome to process, positioning design as a dynamic, human-centered act shaped by intuition, responsibility, and transformation. Installations and exhibitions across the city foreground making as an open-ended condition, one that embraces error, temporality, and experimentation as integral to creative production. Within this context, design becomes a space of exchange between disciplines, materials, and intelligences, reflecting broader conversations around sustainability, emerging technologies, and the evolving relationship between the physical and the digital.
The 25th edition of the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival returns to the Empire Polo Club in Indio, California, from April 10 to 12 and April 17 to 19, 2026, bringing together more than 130 acts alongside an ambitious program of large-scale art installations. Presented by Public Art Company (PAC) and curated by founder Raffi Lehrer in collaboration with Goldenvoice Art Director Paul Clemente, this year's selection explores monumentality through luminance, transparency, and lightness of form. Set within Coachella's desert oasis, the installations invite visitors to engage physically and sensorially, responding to shifting daylight and the evolving atmosphere from sunrise to nightfall.
Chilean Atacama Desert. Image by European Southern Observatory with known IDsCC-BY-4.0European Southern Observatory Images ESO files uploaded by OptimusPrimeBot licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license
Architecture can no longer be conceived as an isolated object, detached from the technical networks that sustain contemporary life — a condition that calls for new readings and approaches. It is within this context that, in March, ArchDaily’s monthly theme focused on The Technosphere, a topic both broad and inherently complex. Drawing on the concept of the technosphere, coined by geoscientist Peter Haff to describe the totality of human-made artifacts, a landscape emerges in which contemporary life is deeply intertwined with machines, data, and energy networks.
How does an architectural installation express the identity of a region? How can a building material connect with the essence of a nation? Throughout its history, Spain has been shaped by a wide range of cultures and civilizations, including Muslim, Phoenician, Roman, Greek, Carthaginian, and Visigothic influences. From flamenco to ceramic tiles adorning façades and historic monuments, each region of Spain embraces its own customs and traditions, reflected in its architecture, history, art, and design. During Milan Design Week 2026, Tile of Spain presents Spanish Design as a Souvenir at the Fuorisalone—an installation that transforms ceramic tile into a narrative medium through a series of sculptural objects reinterpreting everyday icons of Spanish life.
The Getty Centerhas announced a comprehensive modernization program marking its most significant transformation since its opening in 1997. Located within the Santa Monica Mountains and overlooking Los Angeles, the campus will temporarily close to the public from March 15, 2027, through spring 2028 to accommodate the planned works. The initiative focuses on enhancing visitor experience, improving accessibility, and advancing energy resilience, while supporting the long-term stewardship of the institution. Before the closure begins, the Getty Center will continue its program of exhibitions and events through early 2027.
Rinshunkaku is a notable example of early Edo-period residential architecture. Originally built in the Wakayama Prefecture by the Kishu Tokugawa family, the villa was relocated to Sankeien, a traditional Japanese garden in the city of Yokohama, during the Taisho era (1912-1926). The garden was created in the early 20th century by businessman and art patron Sankei Hara and features a number of historic buildings relocated from Kyoto, Kamakura, and other areas of Japan. Rinshunkaku, one of the garden's gems, is a prime example of traditional Japanese architecture and wood construction. Its historical value motivated a large-scale restoration project in 2019, documented in the film Artisans of the Reiwa Era (Reiwa no Shokunin-tachi), filmed and edited by Katsumasa Tanaka and Hiroshi Fujiki. The documentary offers a close, detailed view of Japanese craftsmanship and wood expertise, highlighting rare traditional techniques and paying tribute to the artisans who preserve them.
Set within the mountainous landscape of Zabbougha, Lebanon, Capsule Retreat by EAST Architecture Studio is shaped through the process of its making. The project unfolds through material decisions, on-site adjustments, and evolving conditions, allowing construction itself to guide its spatial logic.
The construction process played a central role in defining the project. Built during a period marked by economic collapse, material shortages, and ongoing disruption in Lebanon, the house developed through continuous adaptation. With no general contractor, the architects took on an expanded role, coordinating craftsmen, testing ideas directly on site, and responding to changing constraints. In this context, sociopolitical conditions became not only a challenge but a catalyst for rethinking design. "We were constantly testing ideas on site", say the architects and founders of EAST Architecture Studio, Charles Kettaneh and Nicolas Fayad, "tailoring these decisions economically while exploring what local craft could offer."
Twenty meters tall and four thousand years old, the Western Deffufa towers over the adjacent date orchards and ancient city remains in the desert. It is a former religious and administrative building near the modern-day Sudanese town of Kerma. Its significance is not only in its age and size, but also in that it is one of the oldest mud brick buildings in the world. And as the nearby mud brick houses also attest, earth is a material of continuous use from ancient times to the present. Yet, conversations around contemporary building systems have largely ignored this essential material. Some architects on the continent of Africa, however, are changing that.
The flood does not arrive as a surprise. It returns, following the same swollen rivers and monsoon skies, loosening the ground and entering homes that were never meant to resist it. Walls are untied before they are lost, materials are gathered before they drift, and structures are rebuilt with a familiarity that suggests this is not destruction, but sequence. In landscapes where water returns each year, survival is defined by the ability to begin again.
Across the floodplains of Bangladesh, the Brahmaputra basin, and the Mekong Delta, inundation is a seasonal certainty. Reports by institutions such as the World Bank and the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change often frame floods through exposure and damage, measuring success through resistance and durability. Yet in territories that are submerged annually, such metrics only partially describe the problem. The ground itself oscillates between solid and liquid states. To build as if it were fixed is to design against the very condition that defines it.
