Upper Lawn's thoughtful interplay between the new and the existing is particularly compelling. Built on the remains of an 18th-century English farmhouse, the pavilion repurposes thick masonry walls from the original structure, incorporating elements such as the well, trees, and lawn into its design. Using prefabricated materials like timber, glass, and aluminum, the Smithsons constructed a light-filled space that harmonizes with its surroundings, embodying their principle of "as found architecture" — a concept rooted in honoring and adapting to preexisting conditions rather than imposing on them.
ane Drew and Maxwell Fry with a model of one of their many buildings for the Gold Coast, 1945. / Tropical Modernism - Architecture and Independence at the V&A South Kensington . Image Courtesy of RIBA
Reflecting on 2024, numerous architectural exhibitions have opened worldwide, addressing various themes, exhibition formats, and featured architects. Architectural design and architecture practice influence our daily lives in subtle and often unnoticed ways, where the end-users embrace built environments as they are. This reaction may arise from a combination of factors, such as a sense of powerlessness to enact significant change after a building is constructed or the experience of growing up in environments over which individuals had little or no agency in shaping. For these reasons, architectural exhibitions serve an essential purpose, offering society a chance to pause, reflect, and critically examine the myriad issues that surface during designing and building. These issues are often overlooked or need to be acknowledged, as practitioners may prioritize delivering projects within strict timelines over exploring more profound reflections.
In 2024, museums, galleries, and curators responded to the evolving challenges within the built environment with various approaches. Some exhibitions questioned the ethics of building materials and the practices behind supply chains, drawing attention to the broader implications of material choices. Others focused on documenting architectural movements worldwide, emphasizing their cultural and historical significance and the urgent need to preserve and adapt rather than replace them with entirely new builds. These efforts highlight the role of exhibitions in raising awareness about pressing issues while fostering a more critical dialogue about the architectural discipline.
The mid-twentieth century marked a transformative period for Africa as 29 countries achieved independence between 1956 and 1964, signaling the dawn of the nation-state across the continent. This era resonated with a spirit of liberation and progress, paralleling the global movements of that time, such as the establishment of international organizations like the United Nations (1945) and the Organization of African Unity (1963). Within this context, Modernist architecture emerged as a powerful symbol of national identity, ambition, and the collective aspiration for a brighter future. As newly independent nations sought to define themselves apart from their colonial pasts, the adoption of Modern Movement principles facilitated the construction of key infrastructures, such as convention centers, parliament buildings, and hotels, as well as the development of architectural education, as native-trained architects begun to either replace or cooperate with foreign-born professionals.
This article inaugurates a new series titled Rediscovering Modernism in Africa, aiming to explore the architectural legacy of the Modern Movement in Africa, highlighting its role in nation-building and the evolution of architectural education, while shedding light on the architects and movements that shaped this transformative era.
Two museums in Africa built in the mid-twentieth century carry the name 'National Museum.' They reflect the story of their respective nation's history and are tied to notions of national identity. Both are also examples of fine architecture built on the principles of Modernism, a movement associated with nation-building in Africa. However, their inception and purpose followed very different paths. This article explores the under-reported architecture of the National Museum of Ghana in Accra and the Sudan National Museum in Khartoum.
In the heart of Tallinn, where history weaves through cobblestone streets and ancient towers, stands the Ungern-Sternberg Palace — a monument that bridges the opulent past of Estonia's aristocracy with the vibrant world of contemporary academia. Now home to the Estonian Academy of Sciences, this historic building embodies Estonia's enduring dedication to knowledge and cultural preservation. Through Open House Tallinn, which highlights the city's architectural heritage, the palace's significant history, and remarkable architectural details are brought to a wider audience, offering unique insight into Estonia's cultural resilience.
Constructed in the 19th century as a symbol of aristocratic power, the palace has transformed from a private residence into a national hub of intellectual life. Its grand halls, once the scene of lavish gatherings, now foster scientific and academic pursuits, illustrating how heritage architecture can evolve alongside societal change.
In an era marked by rapid urbanization, climate emergencies, and evolving societal needs, architecture has a complex role to play and a responsibility to engage actively yet sensibly with cultural, political, and economic considerations. In this context, Níall McLaughlin stands out for his balanced approach rooted in historical contexts, yet aware and responsive to contemporary challenges. His studio, Niall McLaughlin Architects, embraces a dialogue-centric approach, fostering a collaborative environment. ArchDaily's senior editor Maria-Cristina Florian had the chance to sit down with Níall McLaughlin and discuss his perspective on the role of architecture in today's society and the emerging challenges of architectural education.
Women have played a pivotal role in the evolution of landscape architecture, overcoming the constraints of a male-dominated profession to introduce groundbreaking ideas and fresh perspectives. From early pioneers to contemporary leaders, their work has reshaped how we interact with public and private spaces, intertwining aesthetics, functionality, and sustainability in innovative ways.
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, female landscape architects carved out their place in the profession, emphasizing harmony between built structures and natural landscapes. Their projects showcased a deep commitment to community and ecological balance, setting the stage for an inclusive and thoughtful approach to design that continues to inspire the field today.
From 1977 to 1983, the National Theatre in Prague underwent a major transformation with the opening of Nová Scéna, a modern counterpart to the traditional Neo-Renaissance theatre. For many years, Nová Scéna hosted the renowned Laterna Magika, the world’s first multimedia theatre. This groundbreaking performance style combined classical theatre with computer-generated visual effects, creating a unique dramatic experience. The striking glass building, a symbol of the communist era, became an iconic representation of the political power of the time. In recognition of its significance, this building was part of the Open House Prague festival in 2024—an annual event that invites the public to explore and appreciate the value of architecture.
The almost cliché image of the white picket fence has become synonymous with the ideals of the American Dream. Behind the fence, there is invariably a perfectly manicured lawn, a green carpet upon which life can unfold. This image and its associations are not, however, accidental. In her book, "Domesticity at War", Beatriz Colomina notices that, since the Second World War, the lawn has taken a central space in the imagination of the country, becoming first a in order to make space for diversity, both social and ecological. symbol of the stability of the homes soldiers were hoping to return to, offering a space where those at home could still perform duties for the nation, and, after the war, propagating the image of an idealized lifestyle, one maintained with hard work and dedication. In recent years, the lawn has emerged once again as a site of conflict, this time between those hoping to preserve this idealized image, and those seeking to break the uniformity in order to make space for diversity, both social and ecological.
Modernistlandscape architecture marked a radical shift from traditional garden designs, emphasizing simplicity, functionality, and a stronger connection between people and their environments. From the 1930s through the 1960s, this movement saw the emergence of visionary landscape architects who integrated form and function in ways that redefined outdoor spaces. Their designs responded to the rapidly evolving urban landscapes of the time, prioritizing usability and creating environments that could accommodate modern life. The enduring influence of these principles continues to shape contemporary practices, while also presenting unique challenges in preservation as these landscapes age.
The relationship between architecture and naval design has been a fascinating interplay of form and function that has evolved significantly. Both disciplines have a shared history of innovation, aesthetics, and functionality that have informed and inspired each other. This "love affair" has seen architects drawing inspiration from boats, particularly in the modernist era when ships' streamlined, efficient designs influenced the aesthetic of buildings. Conversely, architectural principles have also been adapted to enhance the functionality and form of boats, demonstrating a reciprocal exchange that continues to shape both disciplines.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, two hijacked commercial jetliners struck the Twin Towers in Lower Manhattan, a third plane struck the Pentagon, and a fourth crashed in rural Pennsylvania. A total of 2.977 people were killed in the terrorist attacks. In the face of this unprecedented loss, the city of New York promised to rebuild Lower Manhattan as a lively neighborhood while honoring and maintaining the memory of this day. Thus began one of the largest reconstruction projects in New York City, a process that is still ongoing now, 23 years after the tragedy.
Bauhaus's designs have influenced our contemporary society in obvious and subtle ways. Iconic examples include Marcel Breuer’s Wassily Chair, the B55 Chair, the Bauhaus typeface, and the graphic design principles emphasizing clean lines, primary colors, and geometric shapes. However, the architectural construction details of the Bauhaus movement are much less discussed. While most can readily identify modern or Bauhaus buildings by their geometric forms, functionality, and industrial materials, their architectural details are often overlooked. They not only echo the design language of Breuer’s renowned furniture pieces but also have influenced the much-celebrated architectural glass details of Mies van der Rohe. How were Bauhaus's details executed, and how might they be translated into contemporary details today?
In Beirut, the Interdesign Building stands as a striking yet enigmatic structure. Never used since its conception in 1973, the building was designed by Lebanese architect Khalil Khouri and, in some ways, it represents a physical testament to the region’s hopes and struggles. During the inaugural edition of We Design Beirut, the exhibition “All Things Must(n't) Pass: A Subjective Recount Of Khalil Khouri’s Life And Career As A Designer” opened the building to the public, aiming to tell the story of its architect, Khalil Khouri, through the lens of his son and grandson, Bernard and Teymour Khoury. On this occasion, ArchDaily’s Editor in Chief, Christele Harrouk sat down with Bernard Khoury at his DW5 office to discuss the life of his father and a little-known chapter of Lebanese architectural history.
Christopher Alexander (1936–2022) and Joseph Rykwert (b. 1926) were two giants of 20th century architectural theory who began their work in England and eventually created lasting legacies at two great American architectural schools: the University of California at Berkeley (Alexander) and the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia (Rykwert). Their careers not only coincided with a critical period of social and cultural research among designers and urbanists, but in many ways continue to inspire the current generation of committed critics of late capitalist development on our imperiled planet. Yet to many they are too little known.
Foster + Partners, led by Normal Foster, has just been selected to reimagine the Television City studio complex in Los Angeles, following a global competition. The project involves the restoration of William Pereira’s iconic 1952 buildings and the transformation of the 25-acre site into a low-rise multi-modal campus and draws inspiration from the Los Angeles’ renowned Case Study Houses. The campus will feature new sound stages, production offices, creative workspace, and retail surrounding its perimeter.
Any historiography of architecture is inherently implicated and incomplete by definition: implicated because it demonstrates the interpretation and curation of examples by the one who writes it, and incomplete because, in this selection, divergent examples often fall outside the "official" timeline. However, the ability to trace forms, their application, and repetition over historical periods separated by centuries is always a good indication of genealogy. This lineage situates examples and broadens repertoire.
A historiography of architecture can bridge past-century elements and movements considered 'outdated' with contemporary forms and applications, establishing a nexus of relationships that offer conceptual and design insights. By categorizing specific styles, notable features are emphasized, often resonating with present-day scenarios as suggested by bibliographical sources, which holds even for seemingly distant connections, as exemplified by the Rococo.
The historical journey of construction also tells the story of humanity. The enduring examples from the past reveal insights into their specific contexts, and the remnants that have survived the elements and decay narrate the development of human technology. In the early days of construction, the common (and often the only) practice available to humans was to use locally available raw materials. For many, this meant building with clay.
