Building above water means doing away with a part of construction that is quite literally the basis of most of our built environment: the foundation. In a world dominated by water, currents, and shifting levels are variables that simply cannot be ignored, which is why the most emblematic feature these projects share is their adaptability.
Instead of robust, deep bases – such as piles or caissons – designed to anchor architecture into the earth, floating structures frequently employ solutions like concrete pontoons or plastic drums to prevent the building from sinking. These are typically paired with anchoring systems to "fix" the structures, even if only temporarily, to a specific location.
Establishing thermal comfort once demanded a far more deliberate and calibrated architectural intelligence—an interplay of orientation, massing, material behavior, ventilation potential, shading, and the ways daylight and surfaces absorb and release heat. This was not simply a matter of taste, but of necessity. When many of Hong Kong's post-war modernist buildings were constructed in the late 1960s and 1970s, forming a substantial portion of the city's public housing and broader residential stock, air-conditioning was not yet a ubiquitous, default service. Cooling, where present at all, was limited and unevenly distributed; comfort had to be negotiated through passive means, through section, façade depth, operable openings, and climatic detailing. It was only later, particularly through the 1970s and 1980s, as air-conditioning became increasingly standardized across the region, that mechanical cooling began to displace this earlier matrix of architectural decision-making.
Did air conditioning negatively affect architectural space, particularly in Hong Kong and the nearby region? The more precise claim is that widespread reliance on AC has profoundly rearranged the incentive structure of building design.
As architectural discourse continues to expand across cultural, educational, and civic domains, this week's developments highlight how the discipline operates simultaneously through legacy, knowledge production, and large-scale public engagement. From reflections on influential figures and their enduring impact to evolving academic landscapes and new forms of cultural infrastructure, architecture is positioned as both a repository of ideas and an active agent in shaping contemporary identities. At the same time, projects spanning entertainment, museums, and waterfront developments point to a growing emphasis on hybrid programs and experiential environments, where architecture mediates between culture, public life, and global audiences.
UNS's design proposal for Turin's new Metro Line 2, developed in collaboration with Settanta7, Mijksenaar, Frigorosso, 3BA, and WSP, has been selected by an international jury of experts chaired by Dominique Perrault. The proposal is based on the idea of "flow," a concept that has historically shaped the Italian city, from the Po and Dora rivers to the 18 kilometers of arcaded porticoes that structure how residents and visitors move. The project envisions Line 2 as a new "urban river," guided by three design principles to facilitate this flow: branding, transit experience, and scales of identity. With 32 stations planned in total, the initial design phase includes 10 stations, among them Mole Giardini, San Giovanni Bosco, and Carlo Alberto.
Milan, a global hub of fashion and finance, increasingly asserts itself as a leading center for architecture and design. Its status as Italy's second-largest city underpins its vibrant cultural scene, attracting both established and emerging creative talent. Additionally, Milan is home to esteemed educational institutions recognized for their focus on heritage preservation and conservation. Its cultural and design significance is increasingly pronounced, as a growing number of creators are relocating to establish their presence in this vibrant creative hub.
Among Milan's most iconic landmarks are the flamboyant Gothic Duomo di Milano, the historically and artistically significant Santa Maria delle Grazie, and the ornate Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, along with numerous Renaissance and Baroque sites. The city also boasts some of the most innovative modern and contemporary architecture, showcasing a unique dialogue between tradition and modernity. This synergy is exemplified by the contributions of architects like Aldo Rossi,Gio Ponti,Stefano Boeri, Mario Cucinella, Zaha Hadid, Grafton Architects, Herzog & de Meuron, and Foster and Partners.
The following guide highlights key historical landmarks alongside exemplary contemporary architecture curated by ArchDaily. This guide serves as an indispensable resource for those planning to explore Milan during the 2026 Design Week, presenting a blend of essential sites designed by renowned local and international architects.
In November 2025, ArchDaily launched its first edition of the Student Project Awards. The decision to introduce this new award came from a place of hope; hope in the next generations of architects, their talent and vision, and the importance of giving them visibility and recognition. After all, the future of architecture is being shaped right now, in classrooms, studios, and workshops around the world, and it is vital to support those shaping it. The response was remarkable, with projects from students in every continent, showcasing a wealth and breadth of viewpoints, solutions and visions.
Five months after the launch of the open call, and following the announcements of a longlist of 104 projects and a shortlist of 20, our external jury of architects and practitioners carefully reviewed the proposals to select the three winners and four honorable mentions of the ArchDaily Student Project Awards. Approaching each project with care, the jury looked beyond final outputs, focusing on the ideas, questions, and positions driving the work. The result is a selection of winning projects that reflect both the spirit of the awards and the shifting priorities shaping architecture today.
In our current cities, urban density and rising land values often force a choice between large-scale civic buildings and open public space. Traditionally, plazas have been treated as areas surrounding a building's footprint, but this strategy was modified when pilotis were introduced by the early 20th-century modernist movement. While the original intent was to create a sense of lightness that would allow circulation and light to flow beneath a structure, contemporary requirements for seismic loads, fire egress, and heavy occupancies render thin columns insufficient for the needs of current large-scale civic projects.
However, the pursuit of architectural lightness is not a strictly contemporary phenomenon. Following the modernist introduction of pilotis, several mid-century projects began experimenting with the illusion of suspension to achieve civic transparency. In 1953, the National Congress of Honduras in Tegucigalpa, designed by Mario Valenzuela, applied these principles to a legislative setting. The building consists of a solid assembly chamber elevated on a series of slender columns. Because the site sits on a terrace at the end of a sloping street, the resulting void does more than just provide circulation; it frames views of the city, creating the impression that the heavy legislative mass is lightly suspended above the urban fabric.
At a moment when architecture is being pushed to respond more directly to environmental and social pressures, Spain's pavilion for World Design CapitalFrankfurt Rhein-Main 2026 positions itself as more than a temporary installation. While materiality is at the center of its design, the project explores how a reversible cultural infrastructure can activate public space without permanent construction. Discussions about material use, circularity and reutilization in architecture are closely tied to cultural contexts, environmental conditions, and historical influences that reveal how time shapes the built environment. Beyond its construction, Spain's pavilion expresses identity by reinterpreting the architectural method of Antoni Gaudí, the creator of the Sagrada Familia and Park Güell. It also demonstrates how Spain's creative and industrial sectors address current challenges with innovative construction solutions.
Architecture has long been drawn upward. In Air and Dreams, Gaston Bachelard writes about an imagination shaped by movement; by the urge to rise, to drift, to escape the pull of the ground. Air, for him, invites imagination to distort, to invent, to go beyond what is given rather than simply reproduce it. In that sense, lightness is not only a physical condition, but a feeling: a desire to transcend the weight of the earth and move toward something less tangible. This impulse can be traced across architecture's enduring attempts to lift itself, from pilotis and long spans to suspended systems and tensile membranes. To build lightly, then, is not only a technical ambition, but also a cultural one – a way of reaching toward the sky.
Today, this pursuit of lightness takes on renewed urgency. As environmental concerns, climate risks, and technological advancements reshape the built environment, building lightly is no longer only an aesthetic or structural ambition; it is increasingly framed as an ecological and ethical imperative.
Between June 23 and August 30, 1988, The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York held an exhibition titled Deconstructivist Architecture, as part of a program "conceived to examine current developments in architecture." Curated by Philip Johnson and Mark Wigley, it focused on the contemporary work of seven international architects: Coop Himmelblau, Peter Eisenman, Frank Gehry, Rem Koolhaas, Daniel Libeskind, Bernard Tschumi, and a young Zaha M. Hadid. At 37 years old, her work was presented to the world as an example of "the emergence of a new sensibility in architecture." The material on display was not a model or a blueprint, but a painting, The Peak, submitted for an architectural competition in Hong Kong in 1983. From this starting point, her contribution to architecture deepened along the same lines recognized at the time of her inclusion in the exhibition: the development of a distinctive, mathematical, and, in her own words, "fluid" architectural language, and her emergence as a leading female figure in a field historically dominated by men.
As a major driver of natural resource consumption, energy use, and greenhouse gas emissions, the construction industry has a significant impact on the environment, consuming 32% of global energy and contributing to 34% of global CO₂ emissions. Building materials play a crucial role in shaping the built environment. Through principles of circular economy, renewable and self-sufficient solutions, and technological innovations, analyzing the environmental performance of each material highlights the opportunity to review and assess the different stages of its life cycle.
By establishing a common framework for measuring and managing the environmental impact of building materials, Life Cycle Assessment (LCA) emerges as a key approach. This methodology provides a comprehensive evaluation of the environmental impacts associated with products, processes, or activities throughout their entire life cycle. From raw material extraction, manufacturing, and transportation to construction, use, and end-of-life treatment, the analysis considers the environmental burdens linked to each stage. In the context of building materials, LCA offers a holistic and systematic approach to assessing environmental performance and identifying opportunities for design optimization, among other improvements. In this way, it quantifies impacts such as carbon emissions, energy consumption, water use, air pollution, waste generation, and ecosystem depletion.
Artificial intelligence is no longer a distant concept in architectural practice. It is rapidly becoming a practical tool used by firms around the world to accelerate design workflows, generate visualizations, and explore new creative possibilities.
According to a new industry survey conducted by Chaos in collaboration with Architizer, architects are already integrating AI into their daily work. Nearly 800 architects and designers from around the globe participated in the study, sharing insights into how they use AI tools, how much time the technology saves, and how they believe artificial intelligence will shape the future of architecture.
Throughout 2025 and early 2026, numerous museum projects were announced, advanced, or broke ground across multiple regions, with completion timelines largely extending from 2026 to 2030. Located across Asia, Europe, North America, and Central Asia, these developments reflect ongoing shifts in the role of cultural institutions within contemporary cities. Increasingly, museums are conceived not only as exhibition venues but as public-facing environments that accommodate education, research, and civic engagement. This expanded programmatic scope is often accompanied by architectural strategies that respond to urban conditions, spatial continuity, and the integration of cultural infrastructure into broader city-making processes.
Lilly Reich Grant for Equality in Architecture. Transnational Narratives documentary presentation at the Mies van der Rohe Pavilion in Barcelona, March 10th, 2026. Image
"Gender equity remains an ongoing problem in architecture. Women architects are roughly one-third of the profession or less worldwide." This is the opening statement of the documentary Transnational Narratives: A Documentary Celebrating South Asian Women in Architecture, a result of the 4th Lilly ReichGrant for Equality in Architecture. The grant, an initiative by the Fundació Mies van der Rohe, promotes equal access to opportunities in architectural practice and supports the study and dissemination of contributions to architecture that have been unfairly rendered invisible. Within this context, the documentary, created by Dr. Igea Troiani, Dr. Mamuna Iqbal, artist and researcher Paula Roush, and filmmaker Rime Tsujino, brings visibility to the experiences of six architects of South Asian origin: Sumita Singha, Chitra Vishwanath, Sara Khan, Fauzia Qureshi, Sajida Vandal, and Neelum Naz, whose professional careers span India, Pakistan, and the United Kingdom.
Death is a certainty, but its architecture has never been stable. Every period and culture has invented a different way of placing the dead in the world (close or far, visible or screened, monumental or almost anonymous), and those choices have always carried social and political weight. Cemeteries are where that weight becomes legible in space, turning belief and regulation into boundaries, paths, and names.
In that sense, a cemetery behaves like a piece of city-making. It needs access, limits, and an internal order that can grow without losing clarity. It depends on ground and water management as much as on symbolism, and on administration as much as on form. But its real architectural problem is how to make a large, evolving territory readable while preserving the intimacy of a visit. Names must be locatable; routes must remain legible; trees grow, paths shift, stones weather, records accumulate. What looks fixed is, in practice, a living system designed to be used and revisited, long after the first grief has passed.
Aerial view of the Port Vell area where Liceu Mar is set to be built. Image Courtesy of Gran Teatre del Liceu and Port de Barcelona
The city of Barcelona has announced the five finalist teams selected to advance in the international competition for Liceu Mar, a new cultural venue planned for the Port Vell waterfront. Promoted by the Gran Teatre del Liceu in collaboration with the Port of Barcelona, the project is conceived as a second venue for the historic institution, expanding its artistic and civic role while strengthening its international presence. Bringing together a group of internationally recognized and locally rooted practices, the shortlist underscores the project's global relevance, with the winning proposal expected to be announced in autumn 2026.
Trees are often the first things to vanish when construction starts. Clearing a site has long been one of architecture's most immediate acts, removing what already exists to make room for something new. When vegetation is preserved, it is typically treated as a secondary layer, added back as landscape rather than shaping the project itself.
However, some projects begin elsewhere. Instead of starting from a blank site, they work with what is already there. Trees remain in place, not as elements to frame, but as conditions that influence how space is organized, how light enters, and how architecture takes form.
Beneath the ground lies a material that has quietly shaped the architecture of the modern world. Petroleum is rarely discussed within architectural discourse, yet the extraction, circulation, and consumption of oil have profoundly reorganized the spatial logic of territories. Pipelines, refineries, drilling platforms, ports, highways, and petrochemical complexes form a vast infrastructural landscape that sustains contemporary life, composing a dispersed architecture of energy.
Throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, oil became the material foundation of industrial society. It fueled transportation, powered factories, and supported the growth of cities whose spatial organisation depended on continuous energy flows. Yet the infrastructures that enable these flows rarely become objects of architectural inquiry. Attention remains largely directed toward form, typology, or urban density, while the material systems that sustain these environments tend to remain displaced within the discipline.
Viewpoints are structures designed for observing the landscape from elevated positions. Set within natural settings or urban environments, they act as devices that organize the gaze and establish a direct relationship between the body and the territory. At this threshold between observer and landscape, viewpoints can take on a wide range of configurations, from subtle gestures to monumental structures, always responding to their specific context. Regardless of scale, they are — to some extent — attempts to domesticate vastness: precise framings that make legible what, without mediation, might otherwise appear as excess.
Brooklyn Museum's new Arts of Africa Galleries. Project render, 2026. Image Courtesy of Peterson Rich Office
New York's Brooklyn Museum has announced the extension of its neoclassical building, a New York City–designated landmark, to include new galleries dedicated to its historic African art collection. The project to renovate and create permanent galleries was designed by the Brooklyn-based architectural firm Peterson Rich Office (PRO), with prior experience in contemporary exhibition spaces, in consultation with Beyer Blinder Belle Architects & Planners on the museum's historic preservation. The project transforms previously underutilized spaces that served as on-site storage, marking a new milestone in a series of renovations of an institution with over 200 years of history. For the first time, the museum's Egyptian art galleries will connect to the new African galleries, uniting North Africa with the rest of the continent to offer visitors a cohesive vision of Africa's rich artistic legacy.
At the edge of most cities, beyond the ring roads and interchanges, a different kind of architecture is taking shape. It is not designed to be seen, visited, or remembered. It does not gather people; it moves things. Inside, thousands of parcels travel continuously, being sorted, lifted, scanned, and dispatched with minimal interruption. These buildings rarely enter architectural discourse, yet they are among the most consequential spaces of our time. The defining typology of the 21st century is increasingly the warehouse.
The scale of this transformation is difficult to grasp because it unfolds horizontally, across territories rather than skylines. Global warehouse space now exceeds tens of billions of square feet, expanding rapidly alongside the rise of e-commerce. During the COVID-19 pandemic, demand for logistics infrastructure accelerated by several years, compressing future growth into an already strained present. In India, the warehousing sector continues to grow at double-digit rates, reshaping peri-urban land into storage and distribution corridors. Logistics is no longer a background system; it is a territorial condition.
