Contemporary architecture's approach to space is fairly linear: enveloping a specified volume within some form of material construct. But if we take a look at humanity's first intentional dwellings, it becomes clear that they were much less premeditated.
Rather than manmade areas to be furnished with pride, our earliest homes were naturally occurring cave lairs that offered hunter-gatherers temporary protection from the elements and potential predators. It wasn't until the appearance of agriculture that our ancestors took permanent, built residences. To this day, troglodytism — or cave living — continues to be connected to ideas of societal disassociation and a hermetic desire to exist outside of orthodox architectural norms. And yet, from Northern China to Western France and Central Turkey, hundreds of millions of people still choose to spend their lives at least partially underground.
Climate issues have been the main topic of discussions about the future of cities, but they are certainly not new. The warning about human irreversibility on the planet has been part of scientific discourse since the 1980s. Faced with increasingly frequent environmental urgencies, Donna Haraway, in her book Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene, suggests a change in attitude on the part of humans to ensure not only partial environmental recovery but the species' survival.
Contemporary Indian design culture can aptly be described with one word - fusion. A close look at the trends in fashion, cinema, music, and art soon reveals the country’saspirations as a globalized nation. Reveling in a new era, India’s art and design appear as a combination of influences from traditional life and the Western world. A “neo-Indian” image informs multiple forms of cultural expression, including architecture and interior design. As Indians and Indian architecture carve the country's place in the world, a new design trend flourishes - one that is driven by modern lifestyles, international influences, a colonial past, and a desire to stay connected to its roots.
Atelier Masōmī has just revealed its design for The Ellen Johnson Sirleaf Presidential Center for Women and Development (EJS Center). President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf chose an all-female team to work on the project with lead architect Mariam Issoufou Kamara of Atelier Masōmī, exhibition's architect Sumayya Vally of Counterspace, and the local architect Liberian architect Karen Richards Barnes. The EJS Center, located in Liberia’s capital Monrovia, will provide digital access to former President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s personal and professional archives.
Residential architecture in India is a direct reflection of the ethnic practices and lifestyles led by its diverse citizens. The earliest houses were developed as units of larger community-centric settlements. The architecture of Indian residences is deeply enmeshed with cultural values - usually centering on the ideas of family and community relationships. A single home often shelters a large joint family and meets the needs of various age groups under one roof. Multigenerational living demands a unique spatial syntax to foster connections.
Humans are hard-wired to respond positively to nature; the crackling sound of fire, the smell of fresh rain on soil, the healing characteristics of plants and the color green, being in proximity to animals, etc. That, along with today’s critical environmental conditions and rapid urbanization, shifted architects' focus towards eco-conscious projects to bring people closer to nature. Architects explored numerous approaches: rammed earth structures, recycled materials and furnishing, designing around the site's sun orientation... The practice was so driven by green architecture that the lines became blurred between what is truly sustainable and ecological and what is "greenwashed". But what proved to bring about the most innate biological connection with nature was biophilia, and "bringing the outdoors in" through design.
The Architecture in Development Global Challenge has just announced the finalists for the 2022 edition of the competition. Highlighting and celebrating the ongoing efforts of self-built community-led initiatives worldwide, the Global Challenge offers a platform for those initiatives while connecting partners and collaborators globally.
Whenever light falls on a surface there will be a shadow, no matter how insignificant its focus is. The outline will hardly be visible, but other shapes will come to the fore in this play of light and dark. In the case of being projected by solar dance, a latent dynamic is added to the shadows that can be used to intensify everyday phenomena, breaking the monotony of space. Orthogonal openings in a long corridor or woven pieces in a courtyard are examples of constructive elements that create patches of light and shadow, bringing in addition to aesthetic delight and thermal comfort to its users. In this way, it becomes evident that these intangible elements are essential parts of an environment that, long before Louis Kahn declared the power of shadows, was already being manipulated.
The 18th annual Architecture Exhibition La Biennale Di Venezia is taking place from May to November under the theme of “The Laboratory of the Future”. This year, the Taiwanese Pavilion, organized by the Taiwan Museum of Fine Arts, announced that it will explore the intelligence embedded in surrounding landscapes. “Diachronic Apparatuses of Taiwan” displays how locals throughout Taiwanese history have used their intuition to shape their environment. Furthermore, the project also opens a dialogue about artificial and natural terrain to rediscover what we may learn from nature.
Perkins & Will has just begun construction on the Gateway Project for the University of British Columbia. The project will serve as the primary entrance point to the campus, as well as the new hub for the Nursing, Kinesiology, Language Science, and the university's health clinics. This project is inspired by the surrounding landscape and is informed by the Musqueam people, who have been occupying these territories for generations.
Archaeological endeavors aimed at exploring the civilizations of the past have revealed a commonality across the world. A form of architecture developed independently on every continent. Evidence shows that Neolithic communities used fertile soils and alluvial clay to construct humble abodes, creating humankind’s first durable and solid building material. Earth architecture was born at a very early age in human history. The techniques soon suffered a gradual decline as lifestyles changed, cities grew, and industrialized materials flourished. Does earth architecture have a place in the 21st-century world?
Cities are inseparable from fast-paced lifestyles. Rising rents and “not-that-small” apartments characterize urban environments, perpetuating the chase for “bigger, faster, and more”. As economies develop and human needs grow, buildings are erected at alarming rates to rush toward progress. The risks of urban living are gradually being exposed, raising questions about more intentionally-driven actions. One way to return to slower lifestyles is by returning to slow architecture.
In almost every Indian language, a colloquial term for “family” - ghar wale in Hindi, for example - literally translates to “the ones in (my) house”. Traditionally, Indian homes would shelter generations of a family together under one roof, forming close-knit neighborhoods of relatives and friends. The residential architecture was therefore influenced by the needs of the joint family system. Spaces for social interaction are pivotal in collective housing, apart from structures that adapt to the changing needs of each family. The nuanced relationship between culture, traditions, and architecture beautifully manifests in the spatial syntax of Indian housing.
An ancient Indian folktale narrates the story of a demigod, Hiranyakashipu, who was granted a boon of indestructibility. He wished for his death to never be brought about by any weapon, human or animal, not at day or night, and neither inside nor outside his residence. To cease his wrathful ways, Lord Vishnu took the form of a half-human-half-animal to slay the demigod at twilight at the threshold of his house.
Threshold architectural spaces have always held deep cultural meaning to the people of India. In-between spaces are found in the midst of daily activities as courtyards, stairways, and verandas. The entrance to the house is revered by Indians of all social backgrounds. Throughout the country’s varied landscape, transitional entry spaces are flanked by distinctive front verandas that merge the street with the house.
"Indigenous technologies are not lost or forgotten, only hidden by the shadow of progress in the most remote places on Earth". In her book Lo-TEK: design by radical indigenism, Julia Watson proposes to revalue the techniques of construction, production, cultivation and extraction carried out by diverse remote populations who, generation after generation, have managed to keep alive ancestral cultural practices integrated with nature, with a low environmental cost and simple execution. While modern societies tried to conquer nature in the name of progress, these indigenous cultures worked in collaboration with nature, understanding ecosystems and species cycles to articulate their architecture into an integrated and symbiotically interconnected whole.
Upon becoming a sovereign country, free from British Rule, the people of India found themselves faced with questions they had never needed to answer before. Coming from different cultures and origins, the citizens began to wonder what post-independence India would stand for. The nation-builders now had the choice to carve out their own future, along with the responsibility to reclaim its identity - but what was India's identity? Was it the temples and huts of the indigenous folk, the lofty palaces of the Mughal era, or the debris of British rule? There began a search for a contemporary Indian sensibility that would carry the collective histories of citizens towards a future of hope.
The 22nd of March 2022 saw the twenty-ninth commemoration of World Water Day – as a worldwide water crisis continues to leave populations vulnerable. It is an extremely multi-faceted issue. Governance sadly determines water accessibility, with marginalized people disproportionally affected. Urban typologies are another factor. The over-pumping of groundwater sources to meet the water demands of Hanoi, for instance, has resulted in arsenic being drawn into Vietnam’s village wells.
For centuries and centuries we’ve built – and the diversity in our global built environment is a testament to that. The many different cultures around the globe have had different ways of building throughout history, adapting locally found materials to construct their structures. Today, in our globalized present, building materials are transported across the globe far from their origins, a situation that means two buildings on completely opposites sides of the world can be more or less identical.