What defines the quality of a bathroom beyond its basic functions? As one of the most private spaces within the home, the bathroom is closely connected to everyday rituals and moments of pause. While fixtures, circulation, and technical requirements establish the practical foundation, the atmosphere emerges through a combination of spatial decisions: how furniture meets the floor or deliberately avoids it, how materials interact with light, how storage is integrated, and how form and proportion shape perception.
MTM—Made to Measure designed by Herzog & de Meuron for UniFor, Creative Direction by Studio Klass . Image Courtesy of UniFor
What allows a single architectural principle to generate many different outcomes? The answer lies in the systems that organize architecture: geometry, proportion, structure, and construction. Together, these can establish a set of rules that can accommodate different programs, contexts, and spatial conditions while maintaining a coherent identity. A structural grid, for example, can organize a variety of uses, just as a single construction detail can be repeated throughout an entire building without producing identical spaces. Can the same way of thinking be translated into furniture design without losing its identity? MTM—Made to Measure, developed by Herzog & de Meuron for UniFor, explores this question. Instead of designing each piece independently, the collection grows from a single structural principle that can be extended, adapted, and repeated across different functions while maintaining its internal coherence.
What will the future of steel be?How can this material build the foundation for sustainable economic development and the transition to a low-carbon society?
Steel plays an essential role in modern societies, shaping countless aspects of daily life and supporting sustainable development through its contribution to the built environment, transportation, and energy infrastructure. From automobiles and buildings to cargo ships and refrigerators, steel is a durable and versatile engineering and construction material with a distinctive strength-to-weight ratio compared with other building materials. By offering fast, durable, and flexible solutions with temperature control and resistance to extreme weather conditions, steel has become an integral part of modern construction systems. Its long-term performance also places it at the center of the debate on how to transition toward a lower-carbon world.
There is a big difference between looking at an image of a building and experiencing the space it represents. The atmosphere of a place, shaped by its light, sounds, materiality, and relationship with the surrounding landscape, has long belonged to the realm of physical experience. Today, real-time rendering technologies are beginning to narrow that gap, allowing projects to be explored and experienced before they are ever built.
Long before a building is constructed, it exists as drawings, physical models, perspectives, photographs, and, more recently, photorealistic renderings. Each new representational tool in history has sought to communicate not only the appearance of a project, but also the experience of inhabiting it.
As a fundamental human right, inclusion requires that all people—regardless of their backgrounds, abilities, or circumstances—are recognized and respected, with equal access to the same resources and opportunities. For many people with disabilities and their caregivers, accessible washrooms still fail to provide what is most essential: a safe, private, and dignified place for assisted changing. While many facilities comply with ADA and ICC accessibility standards, conventional washroom layouts often do not accommodate users who require additional space, time, and support from caregivers. This gap has contributed to the growing adoption of adult changing facilities, which extend accessibility beyond conventional washroom requirements and respond to needs that standard fixtures cannot address.
One of the defining qualities of contemporary interiors is flexibility. Offices, education facilities, hotels, and cultural venues need to be adaptable. They require spaces that can expand, divide, open, and close according to different activities, without sacrificing comfort, or accoustics. How a space is subdivided, then, is no longer a secondary decision, but a central component of architectural performance.
In 1743, a small cabin suspended by ropes was installed in a courtyard of the Palace of Versailles for the private use of King Louis XV. Manually operated by servants hidden from view, the so-called "flying chair" allowed movement between floors without stairs, and unknowingly introduced one of the central questions of modern architecture: how to move people vertically in a way that is efficient, safe, and integrated into the building.
The mechanization of this principle, with the introduction of a safety elevator in the early 1850s, paved the way for an unprecedented urban transformation. Without the elevator, the skyscrapers of Chicago and New York in the 1880s would have been unfeasible not because of structural limitations, but because of access. The elevator made it possible to build higher, and it also defined the logic of how these buildings would operate, where their cores would be placed, how their lobbies would be organized, and who could reach which spaces.
Long before it becomes a matter of performance, comfort, or energy efficiency, natural light is a way of giving presence to architecture. It reveals the texture of a wall, the depth of an opening, and the silent passage of time within a space. In works as distinct as those of Tadao Ando and Alvar Aalto, daylight appears as an essential material of design: in some cases, guiding the eye toward contemplation; in others, making spaces feel more human, welcoming, and connected to everyday life.
From lighting and materials to colors, textures, and forms, every design decision shapes how people perceive, experience, and interact with architecture. In contemporary interiors, these choices are no longer understood as merely aesthetic or functional, influencing comfort, behavior, mood, and even the way users evaluate the quality of a space. Bathroom design, in particular, now creates carefully curated environments with a distinct identity, where every element contributes to the overall spatial experience.
How does bathroom design influence users' feelings? What interventions or technical innovations can transform the end-user experience?
Gokce Gemile Private Bay, Turkey. Image Courtesy of Gokce Gemile Private Bay
Coastal landscapes often determine far more than views. Steep slopes, fragmented rock formations, dense vegetation, hidden coves, and limited accessibility can shape how privacy, movement, and occupation unfold before architecture enters the site. Their proximity to water and climate make coastal territories highly desirable for habitation, yet their ecological sensitivity and limited geography often place pressure on how development takes shape. Unlike cities, where density can support walkability, infrastructure, and collective urban life, coastal territories operate through more fragile relationships between land, vegetation, and water.
Along many coastlines, development tends to prioritize visibility and proximity to the sea, organizing land through concentrated occupation and expanded circulation networks. Yet certain sites can guide another approach in which geography itself becomes the primary organizing force. How can architecture occupy a landscape without dissolving the qualities that make the site distinct? Located on a secluded peninsula along the Mediterranean coast of Turkey, Gokce Gemile Private Bay explores this question through a low-density architectural approach shaped by geography, controlled access, and spatial distance.
Moving from the drafting table to the computer screen, the digitization of drawings and documentation marked the first phase of digital transformation in architecture firms. The second introduced BIM, connecting project information through cloud platforms and collaborative workflows. Nowadays, a new phase is emerging, defined by artificial intelligence, automation, and more specialized software ecosystems. The paradox is that while previous phases were dominated by a small number of tools, today's landscape offers an abundance of highly specialized, AI-enabled, and often overlapping solutions competing for attention. While purchasing new software is often the easiest part of digital transformation, the greater challenge lies in changing established workflows and behaviors, which is why many new tools struggle to achieve lasting adoption.
The kitchen has evolved from a functional space into a shared environment and the heart of many households. Serving as the setting for daily rituals in countless families—and even collective practices in urban life—food brings people together, making the design of spaces that respond to these needs essential to everyday living. Beyond the various kitchen layouts, aesthetics, and configurations, the integration of appliances and equipment plays a key role supporting storage, preservation, and daily use that cooking demands. From innovative technologies to advanced materials, these elements shape contemporary kitchen spaces that bring together customs and cultures from diverse backgrounds.
Di.Big pivot security door. Image Courtesy of Porte Blindate
What transforms a space of living into a home? Beyond ownership or shelter, a home is tied to a quieter sense of certainty: the feeling that one can retreat, rest, and momentarily step away from the world's unpredictability. Homes are where routines accumulate, memories settle into spaces and objects, and where personal identity takes physical form through occupation and everyday rituals. Yet this sense of belonging depends on another condition that often goes unnoticed until disrupted: security. To feel "at home" implies a condition of comfort and stability. When domestic environments fail to provide this, spaces designed for rest become sources of unease, subtly affecting routines and well-being.
Produced on an industrial scale since the 19th century, steel has profoundly transformed the way we build. Iron, refined through controlled metallurgical processes, has given rise to a material capable of combining mechanical strength, relative lightness, and constructive precision, making possible some of the major achievements of modern engineering and architecture. From skyscrapers and bridges to facades, roofs, and industrialized systems, few materials have had such a significant impact on shaping the built environment.
However, the quality of a material cannot be measured solely by its initial structural performance or its appearance at the time of delivery. Although buildings are often evaluated when they are completed, their true performance only reveals itself over time. Photographs record impeccable facades, newly installed surfaces, and spaces ready for use. The following decades, however, expose these constructions to solar radiation, rain, humidity, salinity, air pollution, and thermal variations. It is in this continuous contact with the environment that material choices are effectively put to the test.
Unlike many other activities that now take place entirely in digital environments, the final result of work in the architecture, engineering, and construction industry does not remain on a screen. Files become buildings, models transform into structures, and decisions made during the design process ultimately shape streets, neighborhoods, and entire cities. A building often lasts for decades, sometimes centuries, and the impacts of the choices made during its development extend far beyond the moment of delivery, influencing the daily lives of thousands of people.
Sunlight House / HEIN-TROY Architects. Image Courtesy of VELUX
Can architecture shape comfort before mechanical systems enter the equation? As buildings account for nearly 40% of global energy consumption and people spend close to 90% of their time indoors, thermal performance has become one of architecture's most urgent concerns. Yet despite often being associated with insulation values, energy ratings, or mechanical systems, thermal performance begins with spatial decisions made long before technical equipment is introduced. Orientation, airflow, daylight, and the placement of openings all influence how a building absorbs, retains, and releases heat throughout the day.
Thermal performance is not only about reducing energy demand but also about maintaining comfortable indoor conditions in response to climate. Closely tied to thermal comfort—the way occupants experience temperature, airflow, humidity, and radiant heat—it influences health, well-being, and productivity as much as it does operational efficiency. Research suggests that healthy indoor environments can improve learning ability and productivity by up to 15%, reinforcing the growing relationship among environmental performance, resilience, and space quality.
Between the moment a material is specified in a project and the moment it is installed, there is an invisible layer that plays a decisive role in the final outcome: fabrication, logistics, and coordination. These factors shape timelines and costs, but more critically, determine whether the original design intent is preserved or diluted in execution. Cladding systems, especially those that function as visible and expressive components of the building envelope, make this gap particularly evident, as they are the most outward-facing layer of a project.
Selecting a cladding system is never a purely aesthetic decision. It activates a chain of dependencies: profile availability, fixing systems, tolerances, sequencing, and compliance with local codes. When elements are misaligned, the fallout is rarely subtle. Integrated cladding systems—those that anticipate assembly as much as appearance—tend to close this gap, embedding coordination into their logic and reducing the need for on-site improvisation.
