Architecture in children’s shelters serves a purpose beyond building physical spaces; it is about creating refuges that nurture healing, protection, and growth. For vulnerable children, designing these environments plays a vital role in their emotional recovery. Every aspect—from natural lighting to room layout—works together to create a secure and welcoming atmosphere, supporting their physical well-being and psychological and social development.
Roberto Burle Marx is often celebrated as a pioneering figure in landscape architecture, particularly for his innovative approach to integrating nature within urban environments. His work, characterized by a deep respect for native flora and a commitment to ecological balance, offers valuable lessons for contemporary landscape architects. At a time when climate change and biodiversity loss are pressing global concerns, revisiting Burle Marx's principles provides insight into creating urban spaces that are not only functional and aesthetically pleasing but also resilient and sustainable.
From the 1930s to the 1990s, Burle Marx's work anticipated many of today's concerns about sustainability and urban well-being. Long before terms like "sustainable design" or "green infrastructure" became commonplace, Burle Marx was already advocating for the use of native plants, recognizing their role in creating self-sustaining ecosystems that required minimal intervention. His projects often transformed neglected urban areas into vibrant, ecologically balanced spaces that not only improved the environment but also enhanced the quality of life for city dwellers.
The first Olympic village was built for the 1924 Summer Games in Paris. Before this, athletes stayed in hotels, hostels, schools, headquarters, and even on the ships that brought them to the host cities. Pierre de Coubertin, co-founder of the International Olympic Committee (IOC), proposed the idea of an Olympic village. He realized it would be more cost-effective to house athletes in temporary structures rather than hotels. He believed the village would also create a sense of community among the international competitors.
World War II was pivotal in human history, leaving a profound political and social impact. Its conclusion marked a significant turning point, leading to post-war suburbanization and the baby boom. These phenomena resulted in rapid urban growth and a surge in housing construction, which peaked in the 1960s and continued to flourish throughout the following decades, gradually slowing down until the present day. Currently, we are facing a very different scenario in which a backlog of affordable housing, combined with a challenging economic outlook and a climate agenda, have led to the need for a transformation of the built environment into a cleaner and more resource-efficient one, in line with the Paris Agreement.
Thus, with the ever-increasing demand for housing, combined with policy initiatives such as the European Green Deal, the post-war model of hyper-production is becoming unsustainable. Consequently, refurbishing derelict or redundant buildings has emerged as a viable alternative. Unlike the scheme of demolition and new construction, this approach offers opportunities for energetic retrofitting, which helps mitigate environmental obsolescence, extend the lifespan of buildings, and revitalize the existing and dilapidated stock—including postwar housing—while improving people's quality of life.
Refurbishment is an increasingly common and fundamental practice in contemporary architecture. More than a trend, it represents a crucial strategy for reducing resource consumption and minimizing waste generation, providing clear advantages over brand-new constructions. In the Latin American context, this philosophy stands out for its unique characteristics. It intricately weaves circularity and climate action with local materials, addressing economic challenges while harmonizing Indigenous, colonial, and contemporary influences.
Housing plays a crucial role in this context, where traditional materials and construction techniques define each project's distinctiveness and integrate it into the community's social fabric. Throughout Latin America, regional identities are deeply embedded in refurbishment efforts, ranging from restoring facades and repurposing wood to reimagining the use of demolition waste. The adaptation of spaces in these projects is influenced by their unique identities and geographic conditions, rooted in social and cultural expressions.
As a highly transparent material that stands up to all but the most extreme of weather conditions, is easily formed into any size or shape, and, once formed, will last for thousands of years, glass is still one of the most innovative and crucial materials used in architecture. Although contemporary building practices allow us to form huge, glittering skyscrapers of glass that rise hundreds of meters into the air, the ancient material’s original purpose – to welcome light into weathertight and secure interiors – remains its most important more than a thousand years on.
As important as glass is to almost every typology of architecture in the form of windows, when it comes to the roof of a building, the use of glass is not so simple. We’ve understood the power and danger of combining light and glass ever since we saw a magnifying glass used to concentrate the heat of sunlight into incredibly high temperatures in children’s cartoons. Under a glass roof, the solar gain can make for uncomfortable internal environments without the correct protective precautions.
When we talk about the building envelope, we often make the analogy of a skin that protects and wraps the structure, creating a transition in the physical environment. This concept is interesting as it identifies that, similar to its function in humans, the skin plays a role in protecting and regulating the interior setting, besides contributing to the aesthetics of the building. In this way, both the human skin and the building envelope act as elements that respond to the stimuli of the surroundings and the life that develops within them. More than just protective barriers, they are experienced as means of active interaction with the context.
While envelopes evolve within diverse contexts, materials, and systems, minimalist windows distinguish themselves through their aesthetic qualities by being transparent and fluid skins. These windows excel with their functionality and visual lightness, standing out in the architectural landscape. In addition, they are noteworthy thanks to their versatility across different systems that connect life within the interior and exterior. Considering Swiss and Pritzker Prize-winning architect Peter Zumthor's statement that "architecture is exposed to life,” windows play a vital role in expressing that connection, becoming a significant part of the building's identity and essence.
Traveling around Japan can be an impressive experience for a Western tourist - especially if they have some connection with architecture. In addition to the huge cultural differences, the country is known for its rich architectural production - eight of the 42 Pritzker Prize laureates are Japanese - which has maintained its consistency since the 1960s.
