The original promise of BIM (Building Information Modeling) went far beyond the three-dimensional representation of a building. Its ambition was to turn the model into a coordinated information structure, in which geometry, components, systems, and data remained connected as the project evolved. Changes to one element could be reflected across corresponding plans, sections, elevations, and quantities; clashes between different disciplines could be identified before construction; and information associated with building components could follow the project through different stages of its life cycle.
Designing a museum interior means negotiating between the needs of the collection and those of the visitor: objects must be protected and carefully displayed, while spaces need to remain accessible, legible, and engaging. Scale, circulation, security, lighting, structure, and technology all become part of the design, often working quietly in the background so that the exhibits remain the focus. So, how do you fit 4.5 billion years of Earth's history into a museum interior? The renovation of the Natural History Museum Oslo, home to one of the largest geological and anthropological exhibitions in the Nordic countries, offers a clear example of how these demands can come together within an existing architectural framework.
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.
Across architecture and the building industry, women contribute to a wide range of fields, from design practice and construction to research and leadership. Their work reflects different approaches to some of the profession's most pressing questions, including environmental performance, adaptive reuse, and the creation of healthier and more responsive spaces. However, disparities remain visible in areas that influence professional recognition. For example, women continue to be significantly underrepresented in architecture in the United Kingdom. According to the Architects Registration Board, only about 31% of registered architects are women.
The ceiling is one of the largest continuous surfaces in a space, yet why is it rarely the first architectural element people notice? Often perceived as the plane that conceals structure and building services, it quietly recedes into the background while facades, materials, structural systems, and furniture define a building's architectural identity. Yet few architectural elements influence the experience of a space as consistently as this one. The ceiling shapes how sound travels, how light is reflected, how air moves through a room, and ultimately how architecture is experienced, bringing together technical performance and architectural expression through a single continuous surface.
Danish architectural theorist Steen Eiler Rasmussen observed in his book Experiencing Architecture that ceilings shape the character of a room through rhythm, proportion, light, and atmosphere. Rather than simply enclosing space, they help organize it, defining areas and guiding movement without the need for additional walls. As buildings became larger, more open, and more dependent on integrated building services, architecture began asking more of this overlooked surface. The ceiling gradually shifted from a concealed building component into an active architectural system in which acoustics, lighting, ventilation, thermal comfort, and technical infrastructure could converge on a single plane.
The Industrial Foundry for Marine Vessels. Image Courtesy of Naksit Wisetmora
Industrial buildings are often expected to prioritize efficiency, production, and technical performance above all else. As a result, architectural quality is frequently treated as secondary to functional requirements. Advances in material systems, however, allow industrial facilities to balance both, creating buildings that respond to climate, improve working conditions, and establish a distinctive architectural identity.
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.
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.
Building roofs are advancing through a multidimensional optimization process that encompasses technological innovations, new materials, energy-saving performance, and faster construction methods. From green roofs and rainwater harvesting systems to solar panels, contemporary architects are working to balance aesthetics, performance, durability, and environmental impact in their projects. Roof renovation not only extends the service life of buildings but also reflects an environmental commitment by improving efficiency and sustainability.
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.
