Modern housing was one of the places where modernism made its boldest promise: that architecture could reshape not only the city, but the way people lived within it. As Argentine architectural historian Ramón Gutiérrez has argued, popular housing is "the great unresolved subject, one that usually does not appear in histories of architecture." In Latin America, this absence is significant. Across the 20th century, expanding cities turned housing into one of the clearest ways to imagine urban change, and modernism entered not only plans and drawings, but apartments, neighborhoods, streets, and domestic routines.
Yet once built, these projects entered cities shaped by politics, memory, inequality, and changing ways of occupation. Their meanings no longer belonged only to the original plan, but to the ways they were inhabited, altered, and transformed over time. What this history reveals is not adaptation, but friction: the moment when architecture stops being an ideal model and meets the city it cannot fully control.
Even before any drawing or formal decision, the place now occupied by Praça do Mercado in Parque Realengo, Rio de Janeiro, already pulsed with movement. Improvised stalls, informal gatherings, music, children running, and adults gathered beneath temporary shelters composed a vibrant landscape, sketching an ephemeral architecture.
It is within this context that the work developed by Juliana Ayako—one of the winners of the ArchDaily 2025 Next Practices Awards—together with Carlos Zebulun, Helena Meirelles, Larissa Monteiro, Rodrigo Messina, Francisco Rivas, emerged. The project management, urban planning, and landscape design were carried out by Ecomimesis Soluções Ecológicas, winner of the public competition organized by the Municipality of Rio de Janeiro in 2023.
Biblioteca dos Saberes by Kéré Architecture. Northern view. Render. Image Courtesy of Kéré Architecture
Kéré Architecture has unveiled its proposal for the 40,000-square-meter Biblioteca dos Saberes (House of Wisdom) in Rio de Janeiro's Cidade Nova neighborhood. Designed by Francis Kéré, Mariona Maeso Deitg, and Juan Carlos Zapata, the cultural complex is commissioned by the Rio de Janeiro City Hall and planned for a site near Valongo Wharf and the Little Africa area. The design was presented to members of the community on November 20, the National Day of Zumbi and Black Consciousness in Brazil. Important features include a perforated façade for sun protection, roof gardens, landscaped terraces, shaded courtyards, open-air areas, a canopied amphitheater, and a pedestrian bridge connecting the building to the nearby monument to Zumbi dos Palmares.
Image by Wilfredo Rafael Rodriguez Hernandez, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons.
A radiant Rio de Janeiro, bathed in sunlight and carried by the ocean breeze. The beach is full of life—children run across the sand, families enjoy their time together, and laughter drifts through the air. This vibrant postcard from the 1970s, depicting a Cidade Maravilhosa exuding freedom and vitality, sets the stage for "I'm Still Here," a Brazilian film that film which recently won the Oscar for Best International Feature, marking a first for Brazilian cinematography. Further recognizing its merits, the film also received Oscar nominations for Best Actress and Best Picture. The film's setting provides a rich backdrop for exploring the urban landscape of Rio during a pivotal period in its history. As the story unfolds, this bright and open setting gives way to the architectural and urban impacts of the fear and uncertainty of the military dictatorship that ruled Brazil for over two decades.
Located on the top of the Boa Viagem viewpoint in the city of Niterói, the Niterói Contemporary Art Museum - MAC was designed by architect Oscar Niemeyer. Inaugurated in 1996, it is a modern architectural masterpiece dedicated to housing a collection of Brazilian contemporary art from the 1960s to the 1990s. Rising above the cliff like a lighthouse, it appears to float in the air, resting on a water basin. Facing Rio de Janeiro’s Guanabara Bay in Brazil, its circular lines and revolutionary double-curved form stand out on the horizon, offering an open plaza of 2,500 square meters alongside a reflective pool that gives the structure a remarkable sense of lightness.
Carnival is one of the biggest cultural expressions in Brazil. Image via Shutterstock
Rio de Janeiro, often called the "Marvelous City," is a vibrant tapestry woven from diverse cultural, historical, and social threads. Its story begins with the indigenous Tupi, Puri, Botocudo, and Maxakalí peoples who originally inhabited the region. The city's name, translating to "River of January," originates from Portuguese explorers who arrived at Guanabara Bay on January 1, 1502, mistakenly believing it to be the mouth of a river.
Maria Carlota de Macedo Soares was born in 1910 in Paris, where her father—who ran one of Rio de Janeiro’s most influential newspapers, Diário Carioca—was exiled. Raised among the elite, Lota arrived in Brazil in 1928 at the age of 18. She was often described as a controversial figure, known for her love of race cars, wearing jeans and men’s shirts, and for her discreet yet enduring relationship with the acclaimed American poet Elizabeth Bishop.
Modernism emerged in the early 20th century as a revolutionary movement that rejected historical styles, prioritizing functionality, innovation, and rationality. Grounded in the promise of industrial progress, architects like Walter Gropius, Le Corbusier, and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe championed using new materials and construction methods, striving for a universal architectural language. Their work introduced radical ideas: open floor plans, expansive glazing for natural light, and pilotis that elevated structures, symbolizing a new architectural era. However, alongside its groundbreaking ideas, modernism's relationship with sustainability has sparked ongoing debates.
While modernist architects sought to address social and economic challenges through affordable housing and efficient design, their reliance on energy-intensive materials like concrete and steel created unintended environmental consequences. The large-scale industrialization celebrated by modernists often disregarded local climates and ecological systems, leading to inefficiencies. Yet, the principles of functionality and adaptability embedded in modernist architecture laid the groundwork for what we now recognize as sustainable practices. From Le Corbusier's rooftop gardens to Frank Lloyd Wright's integration of nature, the seeds of environmentally conscious design were undeniably present, albeit limited in their execution.
As the demand for affordable housing grows and the availability of low-cost properties diminishes, stakeholders in housing must become more innovative in their approach to social housing development. One opportunity lies in restoring and repurposing abandoned buildings. While building new houses remains the primary strategy for Housing Authorities and Associations, rehabilitating derelict buildings can be a more economical option. This approach not only maximizes the use of dilapidating infrastructure but also provides an economic opportunity to increase affordable housing within the city. Although rehabilitating derelict residential buildings may seem like an obvious solution, it becomes even more crucial when considering abandoned commercial, institutional, or historical buildings for social housing.
