Community Development Center in Tapachula / Laboratorio de Acupuntura Urbana. Image
How do community centers emerge? Why do they often represent a need for the appropriation and development of society? In the pursuit of improving the quality of life in the most vulnerable communities, community centers present themselves as an alternative capable of providing healthcare, educational, cultural, and recreational services, along with spaces that contribute to the present and future development of communities. In Mexico, numerous community centers are created and supported by government institutions, civil foundations, or private companies, as well as co-management initiatives that aim to integrate children, youth, adults, and older adults into spaces for gathering, socializing, and recreation, where they can engage in activities from learning to developing individual and collective skills.
At the turn of the millennium, the world was gripped by the looming threat of the Y2K bug, a potential failure of computerized systems that could disrupt everything from banking to aviation. As midnight approached on December 31, 1999, people withdrew their savings, major corporations issued warnings, and governments scrambled to prevent public hysteria. But as the sun rose on January 1, 2000, the feared bug had no material impact, and the crisis faded as quickly as it had emerged. However, this era left its mark in unexpected places — particularly in architecture. Amid the anxiety surrounding digital technology, one of the most iconic concert halls of our time, Casa da Música in Porto, was born. Designed by OMA (Office for Metropolitan Architecture), its origins can be traced to a much smaller project: the Y2K House. What began as an exploration of private domesticity during the digital scare evolved into a grand public structure — an architectural transition from home to a performance hall.
On the first Monday of October, World Architecture Day offers an opportunity to reflect on the role that architecture plays in shaping our world and our communities. Established by the International Union of Architects (UIA) in 1986, this day was designated as a basis for the ongoing discussions on innovations in architectural practice, new approaches to the ever-changing role of architects and designers, and the varied responses to emerging concerns.
As in previous editions, UIA sets a central yearly theme to guide these conversations. This year, the theme of World Architecture Day 2024, "Empowering the Next Generation to Participate in Urban Design," opens up multiple interpretations, contemplating the impact of urban design on the next generation, as well as highlighting the impact and contributions of young architects in shaping the cities of tomorrow. This year's event aims to address crucial challenges faced by the urban environments and their impact on the next generations. The focus is on creating cities that are not only greener and more environmentally friendly but also inclusive, catering to the diverse needs of various groups in society.
In the year 2000, the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) awarded its prestigious Stirling Prize to Peckham Library, by architects Alsop and Stormer. Although it wasn't the first time for a library to win the prize, it was the first time a local library won it. It was an illustration of the times when public finances could conjure briefs with the intention to "create a building of architectural merit that will bring prestige to the borough." The library was commended for the public open space it created, its fun and colorful design, and its environmental credentials. It sits proudly in the heart of the community and it is interesting that its sign, projecting above the roof line, simply spells 'Library', an indication of the importance of this building's function to the area.
One of the biggest current challenges in large cities is the housing crisis and the lack of efficient solutions to mitigate its effects on citizens. This problem is exacerbated in cities where tourism and vacation or temporary housing dominate the market, distancing residents from the possibility of accessing affordable urban housing. Furthermore, gentrification, driven by rising rents and real estate speculation, contributes to the displacement of local communities, transforming traditional neighborhoods into areas exclusively oriented toward tourist consumption.
Architecture has long been understood as a powerful tool for shaping the physical environment and social dynamics within it. However, its potential to foster social equity is often overlooked. Empathy-driven design invites architects to approach their work not only as creators of space but as facilitators of human connection and community well-being. This approach centers on understanding people's lived experiences, struggles, and aspirations — particularly marginalized communities — and responding to their needs through thoughtful, inclusive architecture. It goes beyond aesthetics and functionality, instead focusing on creating spaces fostering dignity, accessibility, and social equity. By prioritizing empathy, architects can design environments that uplift communities, address disparities, and create inclusive spaces that promote positive societal change in a tangible, human-centered way.
Faced with the aging of the global population, one of the most significant social transformations of the 21st century is anticipated. The design of patios, gardens, terraces, and other green areas in facilities for the elderly presents an opportunity to foster interaction, participation in various collective activities, and the establishment of gathering spaces aimed at reducing loneliness among older adults while enhancing well-being and social interaction in connection with nature. How can built environments be created to adapt to the needs of older adults?
It's that time of year again: students and their families are busy preparing for the start of school, while some of us are gearing up to step in front of the classroom. While preparing to teach an intro course on climate, I'm reminded of why we use the term climate change and not global warming.
Yes, the Earth is warming from a thickening layer of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere caused by us. But climate changes range from sea level rise to increasing storms, floods, fires, and drought, which are all negatively impacting biodiversity as well. So, not just warming. Recent storms that battered the eastern U.S. coast and Bermuda remind us of this difference. While some communities face extreme heat, others brace for storms and rising waters, and many face multiple impacts.
With escalating land values in urban centers, there has been a growing trend to float public spaces from ground level to elevated locations, such as rooftops or podiums between buildings. From a development perspective, maximizing floor area has become crucial as urban environments expand. Ground-level spaces are highly sought after for retail use due to their strategic location, which attracts foot traffic and potential customers and drives city development and economics.
This financial consideration, which often guides building activities and directions in urban centers, contradicts design principles advocated during the modernist era for the benefits of better outdoor space for the public, such as the concept of 'Freeing the Ground'. Architects like Le Corbusier championed this concept through projects like Villa Savoye and Unite d' Habitation. These modernist designs envisioned a future where buildings were elevated to restore open, accessible outdoor ground-level spaces for its users. However, for the reasons above, many contemporary projects instead seek to replicate the function of public grounds within the building's structure.
Large-scale infrastructure projects often aim to connect distant locations within urban areas, facilitating quicker transportation, logistics, and commercial activities along their routes. However, while these projects link distant destinations, their substantial physical presence can significantly affect local communities. This may result in the disconnection and disengagement of previously connected neighborhoods, the disruption of public spaces, and generally negative outdoor experiences caused by noise, pollution, and lack of attention and maintenance to these infrastructures.
Nevertheless, several successful built environment projects have re-integrated contentious infrastructure into the community through thoughtful design of outdoor spaces, with Paris' Coulée verte René-Dumont being one of the first examples and New York's High Line being one of the most prominent examples. The High Line demonstrates how well-conceived outdoor projects can address the alienation caused by extensive infrastructure, foster community reconnection, serve as cultural and economic hubs, and even spur further economic redevelopment, as in Hudson Yards.
Resisting an adverse context and navigating its restrictions, Grupo Finca emerges, a collective that explores the practice of architecture from an artistic and pedagogical dimension in Havana, Cuba. Given the complexity of the country's political and social situation, informal architecture is common: low resources, difficulty in obtaining materials, high costs, and a lack of skilled labor, among other challenges, are some of the obstacles faced by independent architecture professionals. Coupled with the absence of a regulatory legal framework that would allow them to work formally in the labor market or acquire materials and supplies, the construction of contemporary architecture in Cuba is relegated to independent processes that can somehow overcome these barriers.
The Chile Pavilion, recently revealed by Constructo Architects for Expo Osaka 2025, blends contemporary industrial design and traditional Mapuche textile artistry. Constructed using industrialized wood (CLT) and featuring handwoven textiles, the pavilion emphasizes both innovation and cultural heritage. The structure is designed to be a "nomadic pavilion," easily assembled and disassembled, allowing it to travel from Chile to Japan and back.
How is it possible to open educational spaces to the outdoors, and what are the appropriate conditions for their development? What bioclimatic strategies can be implemented to contribute to environmental comfort and the cultural preservation of communities? By conceiving outdoor learning spaces and blurring the boundaries between indoors and outdoors, the educational infrastructures projected by the Semillas association in the Peruvian jungle invite reflection on the opportunities for gathering, meeting, and community participation among students, families, and local residents. Linked to the site's uses and customs, this conception of space represents a way of living where the implementation of bioclimatic strategies, along with the use of local materials and construction techniques, come together to create an architecture connected to its environment and history.
A region's identity is deeply tied to its community spaces. These spaces—whether parks, public squares, or community centers—reflect their users' culture, history, and values. They don't just preserve regional identity; they actively shape how communities engage with their environment, fostering a dynamic relationship between place and people. Community spaces are more than just physical locations; they are vital social hubs that foster engagement, cultural expression, and a sense of belonging. These spaces symbolize a shared identity and purpose.
How have architecture and building design adapted to unforeseen future uses? As cities evolve, their needs for buildings inevitably change. Buildings may transition between cultural, commercial, industrial, and office functions depending on a city's identity and economic activity. In a world that is becoming increasingly dynamic and fast-paced, it's essential to consider the challenges static structures face when required to meet new demands. Cities have repurposed these static structures in ways not anticipated during their original design, with many successes in repurposing industrial buildings. Unlike structures designed with flexibility in mind, most manufacturing facilities were not initially intended for multiple uses. Yet, how have cities, communities, and occupants used these spaces, and what are the challenges of transforming a building’s existing uses?
Naturally, a higher population density prevents the formation of ghost towns and vacant shops, which can become hotbeds for crime. However, these positive views on dense living environments often rest on optimistic assumptions about urbanism, such as minimal friction among individuals, easily maintained hygiene and a natural formation of diversity.
