Think of a chair designed for a meeting room. Its height, upright posture, and material language are deliberate choices—they signal presence, focus, and a degree of formality in a space where important decisions are made. Replace that chair with a low, plush sofa and the entire spatial dynamic shifts: focus softens, posture relaxes, and hierarchies dissolve. Every chair, stool, or sofa is more than just a way to fill space. It is a device designed for a specific type of interaction, a defined posture, a particular rhythm of use. When these purposes are ignored, even the most carefully curated interiors can feel fragmented or incoherent. Furniture plays an invisible yet fundamental role in shaping how people behave, how they feel, and what kind of work happens.
Concrete is anything but a consensus. Some love it, others hate it. It can feel as tough as granite or soft as velvet — all depending on whose hands are doing the shaping. Treated with engineering precision or a touch of artistic flair, concrete stops being just a material and starts acting alive. It plays with light, surprises with texture, and somehow gives form to silence. Although dense and structural, concrete can take on an almost immaterial presence: light, ethereal, and contemplative. In certain spaces, it seems to disappear, dissolving into the shadows or vibrating with the surrounding light. More than just a construction element, it becomes a language, capable of evoking emotion, spirituality, and time.
Desi Training Center / Studio Anna Heringer. Image Courtesy of Studio Anna Heringer
"The times they are a-changin'," sang a young Bob Dylan in 1964, capturing a nation at a crossroads, gripped by the civil rights movement and overshadowed by Cold War tensions. Nearly a decade later, David Bowie turned that gaze inward with "Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes," a fragmented meditation on identity, reinvention, and personal transformation, echoing the collapse of countercultural ideals and the acceleration of globalization. By the 1990s, Tupac Shakur brought the focus back to the streets and urban centers. In "Changes," he laid bare the raw realities of racial injustice and systemic violence, offering not resignation but a forceful indictment: "That's just the way it is."
Three voices, three decades, three ways of confronting change. If art (here, through music) has historically served as both mirror and outcry in times of upheaval, then it is fair to ask: how has the construction industry responded to a world in constant flux, a world urgently demanding transformation? In a world shaped by powerful economic forces, architecture is increasingly challenged to reconcile social responsibility with market realities. Today, we face a convergence of planetary crisis and social fragmentation: the planet is warming, inequalities persist and deepen, data multiplies, and identities fracture. In this context, architecture can no longer afford to limit itself to formal experimentation or market-driven imperatives. It is called to rethink with clarity, responsibility, and imagination what we build, with what we build, how we build, and above all, for whom.
Founded in 1870, The Metropolitan Museum of Art — affectionately known as The Met — is one of the world's most important and visited museums, housing over two million works that span five millennia of human history. Located in the heart of New York City, alongside Central Park, the museum is celebrated for its vast and diverse collections, ranging from ancient Egyptian art to European masters and contemporary works. Paintings, sculptures, documents, historical artifacts, and multimedia pieces make up an ensemble that demands meticulously planned exhibition solutions to ensure both preservation and the effective communication of their historical and artistic value.
In 2021, The Met launched one of its most ambitious projects: the renovation of The Michael C. Rockefeller Wing, dedicated to the Arts of Africa, the Ancient Americas, and Oceania. With a $70 million investment, the initiative encompasses curatorial reorganization, oriented by a more regional and historical approach, as well as architectural interventions. The modernization of the galleries includes enhancements to natural lighting, accessibility improvements, and the incorporation of contemporary museographic systems, designed to optimize conservation and the interpretive experience for visitors.
Building a monumental dome without the use of external iron chains or traditional centering was the enormous challenge faced by Filippo Brunelleschi at the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence. To demonstrate the feasibility of his proposal and to guide the construction, he relied on a large-scale wooden model that played a fundamental role in studying proportions, the interlocking of ribs, and the innovative arrangement of bricks using the "a spina pesce" (herringbone) system. As an essential technical tool, this model — which is still on display at the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo in Florence — guided the master builders throughout the construction, establishing itself as a seminal example of the value of models in architectural planning, constructive communication, and experimentation.
Haut Pays Bigouden / Pierre Brulé. Image Courtesy of Cupa Pizarras
Inspired by experimental solar houses developed after the 1970s oil crisis, the Passive House certification emerged in the late 1980s as a response to growing concerns about energy efficiency and the environmental impact of the construction industry. Its goal is both simple and radical: to reduce heating and cooling demands to an absolute minimum through passive strategies, controlled mechanical ventilation, and an extremely efficient building envelope — eliminating the need for complex or expensive systems.
The choice of exterior cladding materials plays a strategic role in achieving this performance. Poorly designed surfaces, thermal bridges, or sealing failures can undermine the building's entire thermal logic, especially in demanding climates. This is where rainscreen systems stand out: by creating a ventilated air gap between the cladding and the structural wall, they promote continuous airflow, manage moisture, and enhance thermal stability. Materials that combine performance, durability, and visual appeal are rare — and natural slate from Spain's Cupa Pizarras is a standout solution.
A pavilion in a Biennale serves as a platform for cultural expression, allowing a nation to articulate its architectural identity while responding to global challenges. These national exhibitions reflect how each country interprets the event's central theme through the lens of its own landscapes, histories, and future aspirations, reinforcing architecture's ability to act not only as a built discipline, but also as a catalyst for reflection, transformation, and dialogue. In this context, Montenegro's contribution resonates with particular force. Titled Terram Intelligere: INTERSTITIUM, the pavilion draws on the concept of a newly understood anatomical system of fluid-filled spaces running throughout the human body, facilitating connection and exchange. Once considered dense and inert, the interstitium is now revealed to be a network of dynamic interrelation — a metaphor that the curators use to reframe architecture as an active, living inquiry into natural, artificial, and collective intelligence, in tune with this edition's theme: Natural. Artificial. Collective.
In The Poetics of Space, French philosopher Gaston Bachelard proposes reading architecture as a lived experience, in which each environment carries emotional and symbolic meaning. Reflecting on the house, he places particular importance on thresholds (windows, doors, stairs, attics, basements) as zones of transition and rupture between the intimate and the open, the known and the unknown. For him, the window is not merely a functional opening, but a point of dreaming and contemplation: it is through the window that the inhabitant projects themselves into the world. This perspective inspires a sensitive approach to architectural work, in which boundaries are not limited to separation, but articulate imagination, memory, and desire.
With each of the more than 23,000 breaths we take per day, air travels through the respiratory system into the lungs, where vital gas exchange occurs: oxygen is absorbed, and carbon dioxide is expelled. This involuntary and essential act also triggers another, less visible but deeply impactful process—our perception of smell. As air passes through the nasal cavity, odor molecules come into contact with olfactory receptors located in the olfactory epithelium. These receptors send signals directly to the olfactory bulb, which is part of the limbic system—the area of the brain linked to memory and emotion. Far from being a secondary sense, smell acts as a direct bridge between the environment and our deepest emotional responses. Scents carry a unique power to evoke vivid memories, elicit comfort or immediate aversion, and influence our emotional state almost instantaneously.
Paradoxically, the bathroom is usually both the most compact room in a house and the one with the greatest technical complexity: it's where electricity, cold and hot water networks, sewage, ventilation, and often gas converge. As such, its design must be optimized to accommodate pipes, valves, drains, and connections without compromising aesthetics or functionality. The strategic placement of plumbing points, accessories, cabinets, and lighting should aim to make the space efficient and functional, ideally transforming these typically compact areas into comfortable and visually appealing sanctuaries. Every decision matters — from product selection to the installation height of a shower tray.
For decades, technological evolution was driven by the exponential growth in computer processing power—a trend famously predicted by Moore’s Law. From rudimentary mechanical devices to highly sophisticated microprocessors, this trajectory fueled the miniaturization and popularization of personal computers, laptops, and smartphones. Now, with the advent of quantum computing, a new leap is on the horizon. Unlike classical bits, which represent only one value at a time—either 0 or 1—qubits can simultaneously represent a combination of both states. This means that while a traditional computer tests one possibility at a time, a quantum computer can explore many at once, dramatically accelerating the resolution of complex problems. Molecular simulations, logistical optimizations, and advances in cryptography are just a few of the areas transformed by this new frontier.
In the construction industry—a sector historically resistant to abrupt changes—the evolution of materials also has its breakthrough moments. From carved stone to reinforced concrete, from raw timber to high-performance composites, each new material has expanded the structural, aesthetic, and functional boundaries of architecture. In recent years, however, researchers have been testing a new generation of materials that transcend the traditional idea of passivity. These are intelligent materials, capable of sensing, reacting to, and even interacting with their environment and users, challenging the very concept of inert matter.
In the past, AI-generated images often resembled psychedelic experiences—filled with strange, sometimes unsettling colors and forms. But recent advancements in artificial intelligence have transformed that landscape. Today, we are surrounded by images whose origins are often unknown. From playful mashups to portraits turned into works of art, it's undeniable that Artificial Inteligence has become a lasting part in our visual landscape. As Yuval Noah Harari noted in a 2023 interview with The Economist, "AI has gained some remarkable abilities to manipulate and generate language — whether through words, sounds, or images. It has, in effect, hacked the operating system of our civilization."
Architecture, naturally, has not been immune to this. Prompt-based image generators have flooded the virtual environment with renderings that span from surreal to hyper-realistic: futuristic cities, organic skyscrapers, and utopian cabins perched on idyllic cliffs. Most of these are created with general-purpose tools that prioritize visual novelty over design logic. But not all platforms follow this path. Gendo, for instance, was built specifically for architects and designers — offering finer control over parameters like scale, material, and spatial intent. Its goal isn't just to generate images, but to support design thinking. Still, these more intentional tools remain exceptions in a broader sea of generic, decontextualized imagery.
Following a broader trend across architectural spaces, bathrooms have evolved from strictly utilitarian functions into environments integrated with intelligent systems, where physical, cognitive, and sensory parameters are considered in the development of spatial solutions. But, it is always important to remind that cutting-edge technology doesn't always guarantee a better experience. While high-end automation and digital controls offer impressive capabilities, it's often the subtle, user-friendly features—the ones that feel intuitive rather than intrusive—that leave a lasting impression. These are the quiet innovations that elevate daily routines without overcomplicating them. The adoption of user-centered ergonomics—a design approach that takes human needs and limitations as its starting point—has guided the creation of components that respond adaptively to the presence, behavior, and preferences of users. Technologies such as toilets with automated features, proximity-activated faucets, concealed cisterns, and intuitive temperature controls not only enhance comfort and accessibility but also contribute to more efficient management of water and energy resources.
Work always evolved, adapting to the tools, technologies, and social structures of its time. In the earliest human societies, basic survival was the driving force behind labor, with hunter-gatherers dividing essential tasks to meet elementar needs. The Agricultural Revolution marked a turning point, introducing permanent settlements and specialization, which led to the emergence of labor division in ancient civilizations. As time progressed, the Middle Ages saw the rise of the feudal system, while trade and guilds laid the groundwork for a monumental shift: the Industrial Revolution. This era transformed work from artisanal, home-based production to centralized, large-scale factory systems.
Before industrialization, many service providers worked from home. But as factories grew, the workforce became centralized, transforming the relationship between worker and workplace. The rise of the service sector and modern corporations gave rise to office spaces that were often rigid and compartmentalized, like the iconic cubicles of the 20th century. Now, as work becomes increasingly digital and decentralized, offices are transforming again. Open layouts, specialized zones, and modular pods are replacing static configurations, promoting flexibility, focus, collaboration, and well-being. But how do innovations in modern workspaces respond to the demands of today's professionals?
The role of the kitchen has undergone a remarkable transformation—evolving from a purely functional space into the central hub of the home, where creativity thrives and meaningful connections are made. This shift is closely linked to the growing popularity of cooking as a hobby, spurred by a surge in culinary-focused TV shows and dedicated channels. It reflects a broader cultural movement towards authenticity in an increasingly digital world—a counterpoint to the fast-paced nature of modern life that emphasizes a slower, more mindful lifestyle, often referred to as "slow living".
This trend also aligns with a growing focus on health and wellness, as well as a renewed appreciation for nature and cultural heritage. Today, the kitchen is more than just a place to prepare meals—it's where families gather, friends connect, and culinary skills are honed and celebrated. Yet, even an activity as elemental and hands-on as cooking can be transformed by technology. Beyond traditional electronic utensils and appliances that simplify many processes, Artificial Intelligence is emerging as a powerful ally in the modern kitchen.
In a context where sustainability and material identity are becoming priorities in architecture, some ancient materials are finding new life. Terrazzo, with origins dating back to the 15th century, stands out as an example of how tradition can fuel innovation. The modern form, as we know it today, emerged in 15th-century Venice, Italy, when Venetian mosaic workers, seeking to make use of marble scraps, began incorporating these irregular fragments into mortar to create durable and visually appealing surfaces for terraces around their homes. This approach not only minimized raw material waste but also led to the development of new surface-finishing techniques, evolving from manual stone rubbing to the use of a heavy, long-handled grinding stone known as a galera.
Through the creative manipulation of common construction materials and the exploration of elements such as form, light, texture, and space, architecture transcends mere functionality to become an artistic expression. Whether through the boldness of an innovative design, the harmony of balanced proportions, or the evocative use of materials, a building can transform into a work of art that inspires, intrigues, and evokes emotion. The design of the Ginza 41 sushi restaurant, conceived by architect Àfrica Sabé, exemplifies this approach. Its facade stands out in its surroundings thanks to solutions provided by Kriskadecor, a company specializing in customized metallic cladding. By utilizing a tensioned chain facade system that showcases a unique design, the project redefines the integration between architecture and visual branding.
Pools have always symbolized luxury, leisure, and social interaction. Beyond their aesthetic appeal—where water dances across textures, movements, and reflections—they also serve functional purposes, providing relaxation, exercise, and entertainment. Their history dates back over 5,000 years to the Great Bath of Mohenjo-Daro in the Indus Valley (modern-day Pakistan), possibly used for rituals and communal practices. Later, the Greeks and Romans refined the concept, creating elaborate pools for bathing, sports, and social gatherings. The famous Roman baths, often heated and adorned with intricate mosaics, laid the foundation for modern spa and wellness culture, reinforcing the relationship between architecture, water, and quality of life.
During the Renaissance, pools were primarily associated with elite properties, but by the late 19th and early 20th centuries, public pools became more common, driven by urbanization and the promotion of hygiene. The rise of Olympic swimming competitions in the early 1900s further popularized the concept, leading to increased construction of both private and competitive pools worldwide. Today, pools continue to evolve, incorporating advanced materials and designs that enhance safety and sustainability. Whether for recreation, aesthetics, or well-being, pools remain a central element of modern architecture and lifestyle.