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Kaley Overstreet
B.S. in Architecture and Master of Architecture from Ohio State Knowlton School. Master of Science in Real Estate Development at Columbia University. Senior Contributor at ArchDaily. New York, NY. Interested in strategic development of cities at the intangible scale.
Future planning methods for sidewalks and public transit space. Image via Global Designing Cities Initiative
Whether you live in an urban, suburban, or rural area, there’s a good chance that using a sidewalk, in some capacity, is part of your everyday routine. Whether crossing over a sidewalk to get to your car in a parking lot or walking several blocks on your commute to your office downtown, sidewalks are critical for creating safe places for pedestrians away from the streets. But what happens when cities don’t take ownership over sidewalk maintenance, and they’re left to be protected by the people who just use them?
The Breadbox ADU . Image Courtesy of Los Angeles Department of Building and Safety and WELCOME PROJECTS
In a time where housing prices are unattainable and residents are looking to downsize their homes more than ever, enter the concept of Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs). These small and highly customizable homes are taking backyards across the United States by storm, enabling homeowners to build homes on their land, and rent them out to tenants.
The tiny home trend has been hard to ignore over the last several years. There's an increasingly saturated market of TV shows and Pinterest pictures dedicated to the topic of exploring micro-dwellings where your home is reduced to the size of a walk-in closet and each room takes on a triple-duty programmatic role has only increased its popularity. What looks enticing on reality TV is often much less desirable in real life, and as people continue to long for a lifestyle that frees them of material goods and the ability to travel, what does this mean for the actuality of tiny home construction? Is it just a wanderlust fantasy that no one actually lives and was there ever any promise to its realization in the mainstream world?
The great debate wages on: how do we design and build a modern city in a way that everyone will benefit? Traditionally, you’re on one side of the urban war. You’re either a NIMBY, which stands for “Not In My Backyard”, meaning you oppose new development in your neighborhood, or you’re a YIMBY, who says “Yes In My Backyard”, and are pro-development, for one reason or another. But these blanket acronyms don’t describe the real issues that cause people to position themselves on one side of the never-ending tug-of-war between “No! Don’t build that!” and “Yes! Build that!”
The end of the summer season is usually marked by crowds rushing to public pools to enjoy their final days splashing around the water. Public pools are much more complex than the fenced-in, chlorinated, and noisy bodies of water that they may seem to be. A delicate history and many socio-economic influences lie beneath the surface and dictate who gets to go for a swim. What happens when pools shift towards becoming private property and a sort of status symbol, and when these public spaces aren’t intended for everyone?
Fairview Park Comfort Station, Staten Island. Image via NYC Parks, Design by Sage and Coombe Architects
In the realm of design, we often talk about ensuring that there are enough public spaces to serve a community. We discuss the need for public parks so that people have access to outdoor spaces. We think about public transportation, and how our dwindling reliance on cars will help to ensure that we have a healthier planet. But what about the public spaces we lack? What happens when we don’t have enough public restrooms?
Architects assume a significant amount of responsibility when it comes to considering designs that will be successful for not just their clients, but any person who inhabits or is impacted by their spaces. Topics of sustainability, social inclusion, economic opportunities, and overall urban equity, have consistently been top of mind in recent years, ultimately creating a new holistic approach to designing for a better future, that many people are referring to as Environmental, Social, and Governance metrics, more commonly known as ESG.
Throughout history, humans have always craved a sense of thrill and an affinity for different forms of entertainment and attraction at all different scales and sizes. Theme parks have continuously evolved, as society redefines what it means to be entertained, and have transformed from evening strolls into physics-defying twists and turns on state-of-the-art rollercoasters.
With all of the strange residential interior design trends that are making a comeback, conversation pits are probably one that you wouldn’t expect. This well-known 1970s design feature feels both very retro and modern, providing a comfortable place to lounge and a complete escape from the distractions of television and cinema. Instead of a design that supports and enhances a digital connection, having a large area to sit, and quite literally conversate, might be the space that we all need.
Few architectural typologies have the power to invoke a sense of being dual-natured quite as the modernist swimming pool can. The design of pools themselves implies that there are moments of activity both above and below the water. Above, and in the more obvious and visible sense, pools act as a space for leisure and athletic training. But underneath the surface, swimming pools have a long-standing history of acting as symbols of surveillance, death, and social conditions associated with an economic class.
When the first commercial planes took flight, so did architecture. Like many other moments of technological advancement, the fascination with soaring through the skies heavily influenced the design movements of the last fifty years- not only in terms of how we design airports and think about the airline passenger experience, but the aesthetics of aviation and how the fabrics, textures, and high-end details would influence our lives on the ground.
If you’re reading this right now, or have read an article on ArchDaily, it’s because you were in a place that enabled you to connect to the internet. Think about a time when you found yourself in a dead zone, where the internet was lagging and you were unable to connect your computer to WiFi to finish an assignment or even without the ability to connect your phone to quickly Google something. You likely dashed to the nearest coffee shop, or place where WiFi was more reliable, just to have the feeling of being online again. The internet, in an ideal world, is equally open to all providing access to knowledge and the ability to easily connect with others. But what happens when you don’t have internet? How is your life impacted if you’re on the wrong side of the digital divide and live in an area without broadband access?
Architecture, as a profession, is highly cyclical in nature. It ebbs and flows with the tides of economic conditions, and is especially hard hit during times of downturn. We’ve all heard stories or experienced it ourselves, or layoffs during the Great Financial Crisis in 2008, or even more recently the significant cutbacks architecture firms went through during the uncertainty of the COVID-19 pandemic. Projects went on hold and new business opportunities declined almost overnight. Now, two years later, firms are keeping a close watch on global supply chain issues and rising inflation rates, especially with increased pressure to meet the needs of a growing urban population. Will architecture be recession-proof as we enter a bear market?
The design and functionality of public spaces in cities are always under scrutiny. Whether its accessibility to public parks and green spaces, the distance people live from public transportation, or the ways that spaces can be designed to make city life more safe and equitable. But now a new issue and one that lives at a smaller scale is starting to arise- where did all of the public seats go?
The word “Gothic” often envokes a description of mysterious homes, or a modern-day group of people who have an affinity for dark aesthetics, but what the gothic architectural style historically brought to the built environment could not have been more opposite. Gothic designs were actually created to bring more sunlight into spaces, mainly churches, and led to the design and construction of some of the world’s most iconic buildings.
In 2016, Pritzker Prize winner Alejandro Aravena announced that his firm, ELEMENTAL, had released the rights to four of their social housing projects, and all documents would be uploaded to their website for public use. Aravena’s goal was to start a movement in which architects would work together to tackle the world’s challenges around housing shortages and affordability, especially with increased migration. The shared drawing sets and a description of the project’s principles provide architects with the necessary documentation for building a low-cost home, encouraging designers to do the same with their work, contractors to assist in building these homes, and governments to shift their thinking of how they can approach mass urbanization. Six years later, how has the concept of open-source architecture progressed, and how has it impacted the architectural profession ever since?
All architecture movements throughout history spur from shifts in society that demand a new style that better reflects the way that technology has advanced the practice and how people express their political, religious, and moral beliefs and practices. While some shifts occur over a period of several years, others are experienced as a sudden revolt. The Vienna Secession was undoubtedly the latter. At the end of the 19th century, a group of artists and architects aimed to explore what art should be as it pertained to filtering global influences in a way that could introduce new modernism.
The topic of cannabis can be rather taboo in some instances, as countries around the world have differing views on the legalization of marijuana products based on their cultural and religious beliefs. In the United States specifically, it’s been a long contended issue that each state has, for now, been left to decide on how they want to handle. Each year, more and more states (now totaling 18 and the District of Columbia out of 50), have legalized the recreational sale and use of a limited amount of cannabis, but it remains illegal on a federal level.