In the coastal and jungle regions of Costa Rica, high humidity and intense solar radiation dictate an architectural strategy centered on permeability rather than enclosure. Unlike the airtight envelopes required in cold climates to retain heat, Costa Rican architecture uses the building envelope as a climatic filter to maximize air exchange. The primary mechanism for managing these thermal gradients seems to be the oversized roof overhang. By extending the roof plane significantly beyond the floor plate, architects create a permanent buffer of deep shade that reduces solar gain and lowers the ambient temperature before air enters the structure. This strategy, combined with permeable or non-existent walls, allows for constant airflow. This is a critical technical requirement for humidity control and the prevention of material degradation through mold and rot.
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.
Heritage restoration has always been an intricate process that requires delicate balancing between preserving the integrity of historic materials while integrating contemporary techniques that can enhance accuracy, efficiency, and resilience. With the restoration process of Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Canada's capital city, this intersection of tradition and technology is now on full display. The East Block, built in 1865, offers a compelling example of how digital tools can support the efforts of heritage restoration and contribute to a centuries-old craft such as stone carving.
Architectural ornamentation has been a recurrent subject of debate across the industry for decades. A practice that was largely abandoned during the Modernist movement could now be standing on a platform that might, again, allow its resurgence, due to the current convergence of robotics, artificial intelligence (AI), and digital fabrication. Technology has seemingly removed the primary obstacle to decorative detail: the high cost of skilled manual labor. However, this new technical capacity demands a critical examination: What does ornamentation truly represent, and what do we gain or lose by resurrecting it through algorithmic design?
Hormuz Island, located in Iran, was a strategically significant port in the Persian Gulf, characterized by its landscape of colorful mountains. Despite its tourist appeal, the island faces significant socio-economic problems, with the local population having historically faced economic hardship. In response, the Majara Complex by ZAV Architects was conceived not merely as a building but as a deliberate architectural intervention designed to give control, opportunity, and economic benefit directly to the local community. To do this, the project channeled investment into local human resources and prioritized accessible construction techniques, creating a pathway for localized wealth creation. This allowed the Majara Complex to be one of the recipients of the Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 2025.
The island of Taiwan presents a varied natural and topographical context, characterized by a land area of 36,197 square kilometers and a high population density of 644 people per square kilometer. Its geological location, situated on the edges of the Eurasian and Philippine Sea plates, has resulted in a predominantly mountainous and rugged topography. While this forces the majority of the 23 million residents to inhabit large urban centers on the western coastal plains, the island maintains an active agricultural sector, with approximately 22% of its land allocated to farming.
Canada's Expo 67 stands as one of the most successful world expos ever held, setting records and leaving an enduring impact on Montreal's urban landscape. As part of Canada's 100 years celebrations, the event provided an opportunity for the city to showcase its cultural and technological achievements on a global platform. With over 50 million visitors in just six months, it shattered attendance records, including an astonishing 569,500 visitors in a single day. An unprecedented feat for a world fair at the time. Now, 58 years later, and with the Osaka Expo 2025 set to showcase how to design the future society for our lives, it is worth revisiting the legacy of Expo 67 and exploring the urban transformations it brought to Montreal.
‘’We’re in a seismic area. Beirut has been buried seven times, so it has to resist any earthquake, and that’s why it also resisted the explosion in the port,’’ expresses Lina Ghotmeh in conversation with Louisiana Channel, in regards to the Stone Garden. A building constructed with resilience in mind, in a city that has been buried within rubble and rebuilt multiple times.
Lina Ghotmeh was interviewed by Marc-Christoph Wagner at her studio in Paris in November 2021. Renowned for her Humanist approach to Architecture, the Stone Garden offers a very personal relationship as the first building to be constructed in Ghotmeh’s hometown of Beirut. Positioned on the edge of the city center, it is very much a form of vernacular architecture echoing the lives of the people who reside here.
‘’The delight I get out of doing buildings is to say: Screw you, it can be built’’ says Architect Peter Cook in conversation with Louisiana Channel, where he discusses his determination to communicate ideas through vivid Architectural drawings and the skepticism he has faced in regards to his ambitious design proposals and their outlandish appearance.
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via Graven Hill Village Development Company
“Self-build”: no mention of an architect, or anyone else for that matter. Maybe it’s a prehistoric urge that makes this idea so enticing; our earliest ancestors constructed their primitive huts to suit their unique needs and reflect their status or style. “Self-build” promises to physically re-connect people to the homes they live in.
However, the romantic notion of "self-build" housing is rarely compatible with the modern reality we live in. Building has become increasingly clouded by the difficulty of procuring land, excessive governmental red-tape, and an increase in building complexity. While self-build remains the purest form of this dream, there are now a series of nuanced processes that can help us achieve similar results. As a new generation of communities that encourage this dream emerges, we must look at the role the architect plays within them.
Red is everywhere. From stop signs to bricks and lipstick to wine, our constant use of the color in everyday objects has slowly taken over our subconscious. Red is a color that always blends with the context, telling us how to feel or what to think, but why are we attracted to it? Why did cavemen choose ochre-based paint to draw on their walls? Why do revolutions always seem to use red to stir support? Why do we parade celebrities down red carpets, when green or blue would surely do the same job? While the answers to these questions may be vague and indefinite, red’s use in architecture is almost always meticulously calculated.
Not many architects will come across the challenge of building in outer space, but who knows what the future will hold... asteroid mining and space photobioreactors? In a recent article, Metropolis Magazine looks into the design of the International Space Station, examining how our conventional rules of architecture become obsolete in zero gravity. Walls, ceilings, and floors can be interchangeable, and "form follows function" is taken to the extreme.
2018 marks 20 years since construction first began on the International Space Station. The satellite is made up of 34 separate pieces, each of which was either delivered by space shuttle or self-propelled into space. With absolutely no room for error, the 13-year construction of the space station was perhaps one of the big success stories of the millennium, seeing 230 astronauts, cosmonauts and space-tourists visit over the past two decades.
In his latest photo series, "Viennametry," Hungarian photographer and printmaker Zsolt Hlinka captures the unexplored voids in Vienna’s patchwork of historical and contemporary architecture. After previously studying the symmetrical corner buildings of grandiose Budapest, Hlinka has moved north to Austria on his quest to find geometry and symmetry within the urban landscape.
Pritzker Prize Laureate, Balkrishna Doshi, has imparted many lessons through his poetic architecture. Drawing upon local craft and culture, he has created buildings that focus on community and humanity. Doshi once described design as "nothing but a humble understanding of materials, a natural instinct for solutions, and respect for nature," the philosophy evident in his architecture which combines the natural environment with a focus on the human. Here, The Leewardists illustrates one of his famous quotes and show how B.V. Doshi has inspired generations of students and practitioners in the universal values he displays in his architecture.
Fosun Group hired Woods Bagot to transform commercial planning of Dahua, an 82-year-old historic textile mill, into China’s next retail and entertainment district. Located in Xi’an’s urban center, the site sits next to Daming Palace, the Tang Dynasty’s royal residence and a national heritage site which attracts thousands of tourists each year.
Thanks to Art Jameel, a Middle Eastern non-profit arts organization, a new arts district is taking shape in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. Since the crowning of Prince Mohammad bin Salman, Saudi Arabia has shifted focus from oil to arts and technology. The new multidisciplinaryart center, named Hayy, is a 17,000 square meter step in the right direction.
In an alternative universe, architects would have the ability to design every single aspect of their building in line with their architectural vision. There would be no mechanical, structure, or government regulations to worry about. Back in the real world though, this could not happen—many people have to be involved in the creation of a building in order for it to function. From the government to structural consultants, everyone thinks they know best, and the role of the architect sometimes becomes that of a negotiator, trying to please the third parties while maintaining their aspirations for the project. Architects must stand strong, however, because who really knows what would happen if we let someone else be in charge.
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