In a 12,000-square-foot warehouse in Zeeland, Michigan, hundreds of chairs, sofas, and loveseats rest on open storage racks. Their bold colors and elegant forms stand in striking contrast to the industrial setting. A plush recliner, seemingly made for sinking into, sits beside a mesh desk chair like those found in generic office cubicles. Nearby, a rare prototype of the Knoll Womb® Chair, gifted by Eero Saarinen to his mother, blooms open like a flower–inviting someone to sit. There’s also mahogany furniture designed by Gilbert Rohde for Herman Miller, originally unveiled at the 1933 World’s Fair; early office pieces by Florence Knoll; and a sculptural paper lamp by Isamu Noguchi. This is the newly unveiled MillerKnoll Archive, a space that honors the distinct legacies of its formerly rival brands. In collaboration with New York–based design firm Standard Issue, MillerKnoll has created a permanent display of its most iconic designs at the company’s Michigan Design Yard headquarters. In the early 1920s, Dutch-born businessman Herman Miller became the majority stakeholder in a Zeeland, Michigan, company where his son-in-law served as president. Following the acquisition, Star Furniture Co. was renamed the Herman Miller Furniture Company. Meanwhile, across the Atlantic in Stuttgart, Germany, Walter Knoll joined his family’s furniture business and formed close ties with modernist pioneers Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Walter Gropius, immersing himself in the Bauhaus movement as Germany edged toward war.  Just before the outbreak of World War II, Walter Knoll relocated to the United States and established his own furniture company in New York City. Around the same time, Michigan native Florence Schust was studying at the Cranbrook Academy of Art under Eliel Saarinen. There, she met Eero Saarinen and Charles Eames. Schust, who later married Walter Knoll, and Saarinen would go on to become key designers for the company, while Eames would play a similarly pivotal role at Herman Miller—setting both firms on parallel paths in the world of modern design. The facility was designed in collaboration with New York-based design firm Standard Issue. The archive, located in MillerKnoll’s Design Yard Headquarters, is 12,000 square feet and holds over one million objects. (Nicholas Calcott/Courtesy MillerKnoll) Formerly seen as competitors, Herman Miller acquired Knoll four years ago in a $1.8 billion merger that formed MillerKnoll. The deal united two of the most influential names in American furniture, merging their storied design legacies and the iconic pieces that helped define modern design. Now, MillerKnoll is honoring the distinct histories of each brand through this new archive. The archive is a permanent home for the brands’ archival collections and also exhibits the evolution of modern design. The facility is organized into three distinct areas: an exhibition space, open storage, and a reading room.  The facility’s first exhibition, Manufacturing Modern, explores the intertwined histories of Knoll and Herman Miller. It showcases designs from the individuals who helped shape each company. The open storage area displays over 300 pieces of modern furniture, featuring both original works from Knoll and Herman Miller as well as contemporary designs. In addition to viewing the furniture pieces, visitors can kick back in the reading room, which offers access to a collection of archival materials, including correspondence, photography, drawings, and textiles. The facility is organized into three distinct areas: an exhibition space, open storage, and a reading room and will be open for tours in partnership with the Cranbrook Art Academy this summer. (Nicholas Calcott/Courtesy MillerKnoll) “The debut of the MillerKnoll Archives invites our communities to experience design history – and imagine its future– in one dynamic space,” said MillerKnoll’s chief creative and product officer Ben Watson. “The ability to not only understand how iconic designs came to be, but how design solutions evolved over time, is a never-ending source of inspiration.” Exclusive tours of the archive will be available in July and August in partnership with the Cranbrook Art Museum and in October in partnership with Docomomo.

Doors (2022) Christian Marclay Institute of Contemporary Art Boston Through September 1, 2025Brooklyn Museum Through April 12, 2026On the screen, a movie clip plays of a character entering through a door to leave out another. It cuts to another clip of someone else doing the same thing over and over, all sourced from a panoply of Western cinema. The audience, sitting for an unknown amount of time, watches this shape-shifting protagonist from different cultural periods come and go, as the film endlessly loops. So goes Christian Marclay’s latest single-channel film, Doors (2022), currently exhibited for the first time in the United States at the Institute of Contemporary Art Boston. (It also premieres June 13 at the Brooklyn Museum and will run through April 12, 2026). Assembled over ten years, the film is a dizzying feat, a carefully crafted montage of film clips revolving around the simple premise of someone entering through a door and then leaving out a door. In the exhibition, Marclay writes, “Doors are fascinating objects, rich with symbolism.” Here, he shows hundreds of them, examining through film how the simple act of moving through a threshold multiplied endlessly creates a profoundly new reading of what said threshold signifies. On paper, this may sound like an extremely jarring experience. But Marclay—a visual artist, composer, and DJ whose previous works such as The Clock (2010) involved similar mega-montages of disparate film clips—has a sensitive touch. The sequences feel incredibly smooth, the montage carefully constructed to mimic continuity as closely as possible. This is even more impressive when one imagines the constraints that a door’s movement offers; it must open and close a certain direction, with particular types of hinges or means of swinging. It makes the seamlessness of the film all the more fascinating to dissect. When a tiny wooden doorframe cuts to a large double steel door, my brain had no issue at all registering a sense of continued motion through the frame—a form of cinematic magic. Christian Marclay, Doors (still), 2022. Single-channel video projection (color and black-and-white; 55:00 minutes on continuous loop). Watching the clips, there seemed to be no discernible meta narrative—simply movement through doors. Nevertheless, Marclay is a master of controlling tone. Though the relentlessness of watching the loops does create an overall feeling of tension that the film is clearly playing on, there are often moments of levity that interrupt, giving visitors a chance to breathe. The pacing too, swings from a person rushing in and out, to a slow stroll between doors in a corridor. It leaves one musing on just how ubiquitous this simple action is, and how mutable these simple acts of pulling a door and stepping inside can be. Sometimes mundane, sometimes thrilling, sometimes in anticipation, sometimes in search—Doors invites us to reflect on our own interaction with these objects, and with the very act of stepping through a doorframe. Much of the experience rests on the soundscape and music, which is equally—if not more heavily—important in creating the transition across clips. Marclay’s previous work leaned heavily on his interest in aural media; this added dimension only enriches Doors and elevates it beyond a formal visual study of clips that match each other. The film bleeds music from one scene to another, sometimes prematurely, to make believable the movement of one character across multiple movies. This overlap of sounds is essentially an echo of the space we left behind and are entering into. We as the audience almost believe—even if just for a second—that the transition is real. The effect is powerful and calls to mind several references. No doubt Doors owes some degree of inspiration to the lineage of surrealist art, perhaps in the work of Magritte or Duchamp. For those steeped in architecture, one may think of Bernard Tschumi’s Manhattan Transcripts, where his transcriptions of events, spaces, and movements similarly both shatter and call to attention simple spatial sequences. One may also be reminded of the work of Situationist International, particularly the psychogeography of Guy Debord. I confess that my first thought was the (in my view) equally famous door-chase scene in Monsters, Inc. But regardless of what corollaries one may conjure, Doors has a wholly unique feel. It is simplistic and singular in constructing its webbed world. Installation view, Christian Marclay: Doors, the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston, 2025. (Mel Taing) But what exactly are we to take away from this world? In an interview with Artforum, Marclay declares, “I’m building in people’s minds an architecture in which to get lost.” The clip evokes a certain act of labyrinthian mapping—or perhaps a mode of perpetual resetting. I began to imagine this almost as a non-Euclidean enfilade of sorts where each room invites you to quickly grasp a new environment and then very quickly anticipate what may be in the next. With the understanding that you can’t backtrack, and the unpredictability of the next door taking you anywhere, the film holds you in total suspense. The production of new spaces and new architecture is activated all at once in the moment someone steps into a new doorway. All of this is without even mentioning the chosen films themselves. There is a degree to which the pop-culture element of Marclay’s work makes certain moments click—I can’t help but laugh as I watch Adam Sandler in Punch Drunk Love exit a door and emerge as Bette Davis in All About Eve. But to a degree, I also see the references being secondary, and certainly unneeded to understand the visceral experience Marclay crafts. It helps that, aside from a couple of jarring character movements or one-off spoken jokes, the movement is repetitive and universal. Doors runs on a continuous loop. I sat watching for just under an hour before convincing myself that I would never find any appropriate or correct time to leave. Instead, I could sit endlessly and reflect on each character movement, each new reveal of a room. Is the door the most important architectural element in creating space? Marclay makes a strong case for it with this piece. Harish Krishnamoorthy is an architectural and urban designer based in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Bangalore, India. He is an editor at PAIRS.

Last year, MACK Books published Architecture from Below, which anthologized writings by the French Brazilian architect, theorist, and painter Sérgio Ferro. (Douglas Spencer reviewed it for AN.) Now, MACK follows with Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays, the second in the trilogy of books dedicated to Ferro’s scholarship. The following excerpt of the author’s 2023 preface to the English edition, which preserves its British phrasing, captures Ferro’s realization about the working conditions of construction sites in Brasília. The sentiment is likely relatable even today for young architects as they discover how drawings become buildings. Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays will be released on May 22. If I remember correctly, it was in 1958 or 1959, when Rodrigo and I were second- or third year architecture students at FAUUSP, that my father, the real estate developer Armando Simone Pereira, commissioned us to design two large office buildings and eleven shops in Brasilia, which was then under construction. Of course, we were not adequately prepared for such an undertaking. Fortunately, Oscar Niemeyer and his team, who were responsible for overseeing the construction of the capital, had drawn up a detailed document determining the essential characteristics of all the private sector buildings. We followed these prescriptions to the letter, which saved us from disaster. Nowadays, it is hard to imagine the degree to which the construction of Brasilia inspired enthusiasm and professional pride in the country’s architects. And in the national imagination, the city’s establishment in the supposedly unpopulated hinterland evoked a re-founding of Brazil. Up until that point, the occupation of our immense territory had been reduced to a collection of arborescent communication routes, generally converging upon some river, following it up to the Atlantic Ocean. Through its ports, agricultural or extractive commodities produced by enslaved peoples or their substitutes passed towards the metropolises; goods were exchanged in the metropolises for more elaborate products, which took the opposite route. Our national identity was summed up in a few symbols, such as the anthem or the flag, and this scattering of paths pointing overseas. Brasilia would radically change this situation, or so we believed. It would create a central hub where the internal communication routes could converge, linking together hithertoseparate junctions, stimulating trade and economic progress in the country’s interior. It was as if, for the first time, we were taking care of ourselves. At the nucleus of this centripetal movement, architecture would embody the renaissance. And at the naval of the nucleus, the symbolic mandala of this utopia: the cathedral. Rodrigo and I got caught up in the euphoria. And perhaps more so than our colleagues, because we were taking part in the adventure with ‘our’ designs. The reality was very different — but we did not know that yet. At that time, architects in Brazil were responsible for verifying that the construction was in line with the design. We had already monitored some of our first building sites. But the construction company in charge of them, Osmar Souza e Silva’s CENPLA, specialized in the building sites of modernist architects from the so-called Escola Paulista led by Vilanova Artigas (which we aspired to be a part of, like the pretentious students we were). Osmar was very attentive to his clients and his workers, who formed a supportive and helpful team. He was even more careful with us, because he knew how inexperienced we were. I believe that the CENPLA was particularly important in São Paulo modernism: with its congeniality, it facilitated experimentation, but for the same reason, it deceived novices like us about the reality of other building sites. Consequently, Rodrigo and I travelled to Brasilia several times to check that the constructions followed ‘our’ designs and to resolve any issues. From the very first trip, our little bubble burst. Our building sites, like all the others in the future capital, bore no relation to Osmar’s. They were more like a branch of hell. A huge, muddy wasteland, in which a few cranes, pile drivers, tractors, and excavators dotted the mound of scaffolding occupied by thousands of skinny, seemingly exhausted wretches, who were nevertheless driven on by the shouts of master builders and foremen, in turn pressured by the imminence of the fateful inauguration date. Surrounding or huddled underneath the marquees of buildings under construction, entire families, equally skeletal and ragged, were waiting for some accident or death to open up a vacancy. In contact only with the master builders, and under close surveillance so we would not speak to the workers, we were not allowed to see what comrades who had worked on these sites later told us in prison: suicide abounded; escape was known to be futile in the unpopulated surroundings with no viable roads; fatal accidents were often caused by weakness due to chronic diarrhoea, brought on by rotten food that came from far away; outright theft took place in the calculation of wages and expenses in the contractor’s grocery store; camps were surrounded by law enforcement. I repeat this anecdote yet again not to invoke the benevolence of potential readers, but rather to point out the conditions that, in my opinion, allowed two students (Flávio Império joined us a little later) still in their professional infancy to quickly adopt positions that were contrary to the usual stance of architects. As the project was more Oscar Niemeyer’s than it was our own, we did not have the same emotional attachment that is understandably engendered between real authors and their designs. We had not yet been imbued with the charm and aura of the métier. And the only building sites we had visited thus far, Osmar’s, were incomparable to those we discovered in Brasilia. In short, our youthfulness and unpreparedness up against an unbearable situation made us react almost immediately to the profession’s satisfied doxa. Unprepared and young perhaps, but already with Marx by our side. Rodrigo and I joined the student cell of the Brazilian Communist Party during our first year at university. In itself, this did not help us much: the Party’s Marxism, revised in the interests of the USSR, was pitiful. Even high-level leaders rarely went beyond the first chapter of Capital. But at the end of the 1950s, the effervescence of the years to come was already nascent:  […] this extraordinary revival […] the rediscovery of Marxism and the great dialectical texts and traditions in the 1960s: an excitement that identifies a forgotten or repressed moment of the past as the new and subversive, and learns the dialectical grammar of a Hegel or an Adorno, a Marx or a Lukács, like a foreign language that has resources unavailable in our own. And what is more: the Chinese and Cuban revolutions, the war in Vietnam, guerrilla warfare of all kinds, national liberation movements, and a rare libertarian disposition in contemporary history, totally averse to fanaticism and respect for ideological apparatuses of (any) state or institution. Going against the grain was almost the norm. We were of course no more than contemporaries of our time. We were soon able to position ourselves from chapters 13, 14, and 15 of Capital, but only because we could constantly cross-reference Marx with our observations from well-contrasted building sites and do our own experimenting. As soon as we identified construction as manufacture, for example, thanks to the willingness and even encouragement of two friends and clients, Boris Fausto and Bernardo Issler, I was able to test both types of manufacture — organic and heterogeneous — on similar-sized projects taking place simultaneously, in order to find out which would be most convenient for the situation in Brazil, particularly in São Paulo. Despite the scientific shortcomings of these tests, they sufficed for us to select organic manufacture. Arquitetura Nova had defined its line of practice, studies, and research. There were other sources that were central to our theory and practice. Flávio Império was one of the founders of the Teatro de Arena, undoubtedly the vanguard of popular, militant theatre in Brazil. He won practically every set design award. He brought us his marvelous findings in spatial condensation and malleability, and in the creative diversion of techniques and material—appropriate devices for an underdeveloped country. This is what helped us pave the way to reformulating the reigning design paradigms.  We had to do what Flávio had done in the theatre: thoroughly rethink how to be an architect. Upend the perspective. The way we were taught was to start from a desired result; then others would take care of getting there, no matter how. We, on the other hand, set out to go down to the building site and accompany those carrying out the labor itself, those who actually build, the formally subsumed workers in manufacture who are increasingly deprived of the knowledge and know-how presupposed by this kind of subsumption. We should have been fostering the reconstitution of this knowledge and know-how—not so as to fulfil this assumption, but in order to reinvigorate the other side of this assumption according to Marx: the historical rebellion of the manufacture worker, especially the construction worker. We had to rekindle the demand that fueled this rebellion: total self-determination, and not just that of the manual operation as such. Our aim was above all political and ethical. Aesthetics only mattered by way of what it included—ethics. Instead of estética, we wrote est ética [this is ethics]. We wanted to make building sites into nests for the return of revolutionary syndicalism, which we ourselves had yet to discover. Sérgio Ferro, born in Brazil in 1938, studied architecture at FAUUSP, São Paulo. In the 1960s, he joined the Brazilian communist party and started, along with Rodrigo Lefevre and Flávio Império, the collective known as Arquitetura Nova. After being arrested by the military dictatorship that took power in Brazil in 1964, he moved to France as an exile. As a painter and a professor at the École Nationale Supérieure d’Architecture de Grenoble, where he founded the Dessin/Chantier laboratory, he engaged in extensive research which resulted in several publications, exhibitions, and awards in Brazil and in France, including the title of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres in 1992. Following his retirement from teaching, Ferro continues to research, write, and paint.

An immersive architectural installation designed by the architecture and design firm opng is staged inside the former Chase Manhattan banking hall, a 1961 structure by SOM. House of Craft x Dior is a show of haute couture works from the fashion house’s archives. Presented by UBS and Dior, and curated by fashion icon Carine Roitfeld, the clothing and accessories are  brought to life in this historic setting. The exhibition orbits around Isamu Noguchi’s 1964 Sunken Garden, a serene, geometric landscape of basalt stones, water, and abstracted nature. opng’s design uses the site’s tranquility, creating a mirrored, “maze-like” architecture that visually connects the haute couture on display with Noguchi’s own sculptural language. The exhibition spans 30,000 square feet, wrapping visitors in a network of 10-foot mirrored walls. These surfaces reflect and multiply Dior gowns, accessories, process sketches, and photographs.  The exhibition includes a striking 60-foot “Silhouette Wall” featuring Brigitte Niedermair’s portraits of each designer’s most defining creations. (Naho Kubota/Courtesy opng) House of Craft x Dior pays tribute to all seven of Dior’s creative directors—Christian Dior, Yves Saint Laurent, Marc Bohan, Gianfranco Ferré, John Galliano, Raf Simons, and Maria Grazia Chiuri—as well as menswear designer Kim Jones. Each director’s vision is represented through silhouettes, displayed alongside behind-the-scenes materials that offer insight into the meticulousness of couture. The exhibition includes a striking 60-foot “Silhouette Wall” featuring Brigitte Niedermair’s portraits of each designer’s most defining creations. A 24-foot worktable is surrounded by videos of couturiers from Dior’s Haute Couture House describing the construction process of making Dior’s most recognizable garments. Noguchi’s Sunken Garden makes for a historic setting for the fashion exhibition (Naho Kubota/Courtesy opng) Commissioned by Chase in 1961, Noguchi’s Sunken Garden embodies a midcentury belief in art’s ability to humanize the urban landscape. By placing Dior’s intricate couture into this minimalist, tranquil site, UBS and opng initiates a conversation between eras, disciplines, and design philosophies. opng’s exhibition design includes tables and rectangular vitrines that can be hung on the walls. (Naho Kubota/Courtesy opng) The exhibition is part of UBS’s ongoing House of Craft initiative, which launched in 2024. House of Craft x Dior on view from June 6 to June 8.

“Is that concrete all around, or is it in my head?” asked Ian Hunter in “All the Young Dudes,” the song David Bowie wrote for Mott the Hoople in 1972. Concrete is all around us, and we haven’t quite wrapped our heads around it. It’s one of the indispensable materials of modernity; as we try to decarbonize the built environment, it’s part of the problem, and innovations in its composition may become part of the solution. Understanding its history more clearly, the Skyscraper Museum’s new exhibition in Manhattan implies, just might help us employ it better. Concrete is “the second most used substance in the world, after water,” the museum’s founder/director/curator Carol Willis told AN during a recent visit. For plasticity, versatility, and compressive strength, reinforced concrete is hard to beat, though its performance is more problematic when assessed by the metric of embodied and operational carbon, a consideration the exhibition acknowledges up front. In tall construction, concrete has become nearly hegemonic, yet its central role, contend Willis and co-curator Thomas Leslie, formerly of Foster + Partners and now a professor at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, is underrecognized by the public and by mainstream architectural history. The current exhibition aims to change that perception. The Skyscraper Museum in Lower Manhattan features an exhibition, The Modern Concrete Skyscraper, which examines the history of material choices in building tall towers. (Courtesy the Skyscraper Museum) The Modern Concrete Skyscraper examines the history of tall towers’ structural material choices, describing a transition from the early dominance of steel frames to the contemporary condition, in which most large buildings rely on concrete. This change did not happen instantly or for any single reason but through a combination of technical and economic factors, including innovations by various specialists, well-recognized and otherwise; the availability of high-quality limestone deposits near Chicago; and the differential development of materials industries in nations whose architecture grew prominent in recent decades. As supertalls reach ever higher—in the global race for official height rankings by the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat (CTBUH) and national, corporate, or professional bragging rights—concrete’s dominance may not be permanent in that sector, given the challenge of pumping the material beyond a certain height. (The 2,717-foot Burj Khalifa, formerly Burj Dubai, uses concrete up to 1,987 and steel above that point; Willis quotes SOM’s William Baker describing it as “the tallest steel building with a concrete foundation of 156 stories.”) For the moment, however, concrete is ahead of its chief competitors, steel and (on a smaller scale) timber. Regardless of possible promotional inferences, Willis said, “we did not work with the industry in any way for this exhibition.” “The invention of steel and the grid of steel and the skeleton frame is only the first chapter of the history of the skyscraper,” Willis explained. “The second chapter, and the one that we’re in now, is concrete. Surprisingly, no one had ever told that story of the skyscraper today with a continuous narrative.” The exhibition traces the use of concrete back to the ancient Roman combination of aggregate and pozzolana—the chemical formula for which was “largely lost with the fall of the Roman Empire,” though some Byzantine and medieval structures approximated it. From there, the show explores comparable materials’ revival in 18th-century England, the patenting of Portland cement by Leeds builder Joseph Aspdin in 1824, the proof-of-concept concrete house by François Coignet in 1856, and the pivotal development of rebar in the mid-19th century, with overdue attention to Ernest Ransome’s 1903 Ingalls Building in Cincinnati, then the world’s tallest concrete building at 15 stories and arguably the first concrete skyscraper. The exhibition includes a timeline that depicts concrete’s origins in Rome to its contemporary use in skyscraper construction. (Courtesy the Skyscraper Museum) Baker’s lectures, Willis reported, sometimes pose a deceptively simple question: “‘What is a skyscraper?’ In 1974, when the World Trade Center and Sears Tower are just finished, you would say it’s a very tall building that is built of steel, an office building in North America. But if you ask that same question today, the answer is: It’s a building that is mixed-use, constructed of concrete, and [located] in Asia or the Middle East.” The exhibition organizes the history of concrete towers by eras of engineering innovation, devoting special attention to the 19th- and early-20th-century “patent era” of Claude Allen Porter Turner (pioneer in flat-slab flooring and mushroom columns) and Henry Chandlee Turner (founder of Turner Construction), Ransome (who patented twisted-iron rebar), and François Hennebique (known for the re-inforced concrete system exemplified by Liverpool’s Royal Liver Building, the world’s tallest concrete office building when completed in 1911). In the postwar era, “concrete comes out onto the surface [as] both a structural material and aesthetic.” Brutalism, perhaps to some observers’ surprise, “does not figure very large in high-rise design,” Willis said, except for Paul Rudolph’s Tracey Towers in the Bronx. The exhibition, however, devotes considerable attention to the work of Pier Luigi Nervi, Bertrand Goldberg (particularly Marina City), and SOM’s Fazlur Khan, pioneer of the structural tube system in the 1960s and 1970s—followed by the postmodernist 1980s, when concrete could express either engineering values or ornamentation. The exhibition highlights a number of concrete towers, including Paul Rudolph’s Tracey Towers in the Bronx. (Courtesy the Skyscraper Museum) “In the ’90s, there were material advances in engineering analysis and computerization that helped to predict performance, and so buildings can get taller and taller,” Willis said. The current era, if one looks to CTBUH rankings, is dominated by the supertalls seen in Dubai, Shanghai, and Kuala Lumpur, after the Petronas Towers (1998) “took the title of world’s tallest building from North America for the first time and traumatized everybody about that.” The previous record holder, Chicago’s Sears (now Willis) Tower, comprised steel structural tubes on concrete caissons; with Petronas, headquarters of Malaysia’s national petroleum company of that name, a strong concrete industry was represented but a strong national steel industry was lacking, and as Willis frequently says, form follows finances. In any event, by the ’90s concrete was already becoming the standard material for supertalls, particularly on soft-soiled sites like Shanghai, where its water resistance and compressive strength are well suited to foundation construction. Its plasticity is also well suited to complex forms like the triangular Burj, Kuala Lumpur’s Merdeka 118, and (if eventually completed) the even taller Jeddah Tower, designed to “confuse the wind,” shed vortices, and manage wind forces. Posing the same question Louis Kahn asked about the intentions of a brick, Willis said, with concrete “the answer is: anything you want.” The exhibition is front-loaded with scholarly material, presenting eight succinct yet informative wall texts on the timeline of concrete construction. The explanatory material is accompanied by ample photographs as well as structural models on loan from SOM, Pelli Clarke & Partners, and other firms. Some materials are repurposed from the museum’s previous shows, particularly Supertall! (2011–12) and Sky High and the Logic of Luxury (2013–14). The models allow close examination of the Burj Khalifa, Petronas Towers, Jin Mao Tower, Merdeka 118, and others, including two unbuilt Chicago projects that would have exceeded 2,000 feet: the Miglin-Beitler Skyneedle (Cesar Pelli/Thornton Tomasetti) and 7 South Dearborn (SOM). The Burj, Willis noted, was all structure and no facade for a time: When its curtain-wall manufacturer, Schmidlin, went bankrupt in 2006, it “ended up going to 100 stories without having a stitch of glass on it,” temporarily becoming a “1:1 scale model of the structural system up to 100 stories.” Its prominence justifies its appearance here in two models, including one from RWDI’s wind-tunnel studies. Eero Saarinen’s only skyscraper, built for CBS in 1965 and also known as “Black Rock,” under construction in New York City. (Courtesy Eero Saarinen Collection, Manuscripts, and Archives, Yale University Library) The exhibition opened in March, with plans to stay up at least through October (Willis prefers to keep the date flexible), with accompanying lectures and panels to be announced on the museum’s website (skyscraper.org). Though the exhibition’s full textual and graphic content is available online, the physical models alone are worth a trip to the Battery Park City headquarters. Intriguing questions arise from the exhibition without easy answers, setting the table for lively discussion and debate. One is whether the patenting of innovations like Ransome bar and the Système Hennebique incentivized technological progress or hindered useful technology transfer. Willis speculated, “Did the fact that there were inventions and patents mean that competition was discouraged, that the competition was only in the realm of business, rather than advancing the material?” A critical question is whether research into the chemistry of concrete, including MIT’s 2023 report on the self-healing properties of Roman pozzolana and proliferating claims about “green concrete” using alternatives to Portland cement, can lead to new types of the material with improved durability and lower emissions footprints. This exhibition provides a firm foundation in concrete’s fascinating history, opening space for informed speculation about its future. Bill Millard is a regular contributor to AN.

Behind 69 Walker Street’s facade in the Tribeca neighborhood of New York is a beehive of designers all striving toward the same goal: making great work, whether big or small, luxury residential or affordable housing, interiors or ground up. Fogarty Finger occupies three floors of the industrial loft building so ubiquitous in the neighborhood Robert De Niro made famous. The 130-person firm was founded in 2003 by Chris Fogarty and Robert Finger after the pair spent a decade working at SOM. Alexandra Cuber joined the office in 2014 and is a director in Fogarty Finger’s interiors studio. John Zimmer also teamed up as a director, following a stint in San Francisco. Despite having grown significantly, Fogarty Finger remains malleable, and responsive to ever-evolving industry trends. “About 80 percent of our clients are return clients,” Fogarty told AN. “Not only do clients often come back, they also recommend us. For the longest time we didn’t do business development because we didn’t need to. Now, at our size, we have to be a bit more thoughtful.” “One of many things that differentiates us from other, larger offices is that we’re still first-generation leadership,” Finger added. “We bring a very boutique approach to everything we do. Nobody has an expectation of what the firm does from generations past. This means we don’t have people above us managing us from the financial side [who are] responsible for many, many offices. This gives us more freedom in terms of design; we don’t come with the same overhead as many other firms have.” Astoria West (Alexander Severin) Astoria West, 2022 A waterfront site Fogarty Finger recently negotiated is in Astoria, Queens. Astoria West is a handsome, 500-unit luxury residential complex that’s easily recognizable from Manhattan thanks to its bays, which jut out from the facade. The complex is broken up into three buildings with a shared courtyard. “We had a supertight budget,” Fogarty said. “The client came to us and said, ‘I need something I can recognize while standing in Manhattan.’ So we used dormer rules that allowed for these vertical portals into the apartment, which gave it an identity. Working on a very slim budget, a lot of detailing and thinking went into the windows, which change size, and the brick patterns. A lot of thought also went into the ground plane. We wanted to make apartments that people couldn’t look into from the sidewalk, without creating a soulless pedestrian experience outside.” Private Equity Office (David Mitchell) Private Equity Office, 2024 Fogarty Finger’s interiors studio collaborates with high-caliber real estate, financial services, and legal firms across the Eastern Seaboard. Recently, Fogarty Finger redesigned a space within an iconic Manhattan tower for a private equity firm; the result was a design that’s both inviting and dignifying. “Companies put a lot of thought into their address, but so often how they want their interiors to look and work is an open-ended conversation,” Finger said. “Real estate is becoming a very experience-driven industry, which is affecting everything.” For Fogarty Finger, helping financial services and legal practices arrive at a clear understanding of their identity is paramount, as was the case in this project, in which the client requested to stay anonymous. “We often start with visioning sessions,” Cuber said. “We ask clients to describe themselves in a few words, which often rattles them a bit. It’s so interesting taking these interviews and creating a space that reflects the client and how they want to present themselves.” The Eliza + Inwood Public Library (Alexander Severin) The Eliza + Inwood Public Library, 2024 What to do with all of New York City’s publicly owned land has mayoral candidates talking. Amid ongoing debates, one thing seems clear: The new Eliza Apartments at the redeveloped Inwood Public Library in Manhattan is a very good precedent to use when negotiating city land moving forward. Mayoral candidates Zohran Mamdani, Zellnor Myrie, and Andrew Cuomo all alluded to the Eliza + Inwood Public Library in their housing plans as a case study to emulate. The mixed-use building opened earlier this year and was reviewed by AN. Fogarty Finger designed the ground-up building and its accompanying apartments, while Andrew Berman Architects ideated the ground-level library. “This is a truly multiuse building,” Zimmer said. “It has a community center that’s used for vocational training and STEM in the cellar, and there’s also a universal pre-K.” Nevins Landing in Gowanus, Brooklyn (Courtesy Fogarty Finger) Nevins Landing, 2021– The Gowanus neighborhood is one of the largest, most significant development sites underway in New York today. Many high-profile firms are designing buildings near the polluted canal—a Superfund site in a yearslong cleanup—and Fogarty Finger is one of them. The firm is behind 320 and 340 Nevins Landing, on the banks of what many hope becomes the “eco-friendly Amsterdam of Brooklyn.” Fogarty Finger’s design at Nevins Landing can be understood as two separate plinths that front a shared plaza with towers above them. The facades mimic the old brick buildings in the neighborhood, with all of their idiosyncrasies. One of the other commendable features of Nevins Landing’s design is its retail component: Fogarty Finger created internal public corridors lined with a variety of small commercial spaces. This will ensure the ground level of Nevins Landing is a happening display of artists and coffee shops instead of, say, another Walgreens. “Our goal was to make a neighborhood,” Cuber said.

It has been 3 months since ACSA canceled the Fall 2025 Journal of Architectural Education (JAE) issue about Palestine and fired its interim executive editor, McClain Clutter. In response, the JAE editorial board resigned in protest. ACSA subsequently put out a solicitation for services to honor its contract with Taylor & Francis, who publishes JAE, and it sought new theme editors to publish an alternative Winter 2025 issue. ACSA also hired Maverick Publishing Specialists to conduct an independent review of JAE and ACSA editorial policy and practices related to the terminated 79.2 Palestine issue. University of Houston’s Rafael Longoria and Michelangelo Sabatino of the Illinois Institute of Technology are the Winter 2025 JAE 79:2 editors. Their theme for the issue? “Educating Civic Architects.” The new call for papers situates itself in our “increasingly complex economic, environmental, and political reality.” Theme editors seek “contributions that explore the full range of expressions of civic architecture and community design—past, present, and future.” The word “civic” is repeated throughout the open call, which echoes the Trump administration’s recent mandate for “beautiful federal civic architecture.”  The open call asks: “How might educating civic-minded architects help inspire and guide the profession? How do architecture schools foster a culture of collaboration with community and city leaders? How can design research inform the evolving role that civic-minded architects can play? Beyond the design studio, what role should the teaching of history, theory, professional practice, policy, technology, and other disciplines play in educating civic architects?” The open call cites Luiz Paulo Conde, an architect who became the mayor of Rio de Janeiro; former Peruvian architect-turned-president ​​Fernando Belaúnde Terry; and Jaime Lerner, an architect-turned-mayor-turned-governor from Brazil as cases to emulate. Terry organized PREVI, an ambitious social housing competition in Lima in the 1970s, but he also launched a settler-colonial campaign in Peru’s Indigenous territories. (Terry’s effort was outlined in his 1965 book Peru’s Own Conquest.) Italian mayors Giulio Carlo Argan and Massimo Cacciari, of Rome and Venice, respectively, were other examples of aesthete politicians JAE cited. Domestic examples are also offered, like Joseph P. Riley Jr., former mayor of Charleston, South Carolina; Harvey Gantt, former mayor of Charlotte, North Carolina; and Maurice Cox, who was mayor of Charlottesville, Virginia, before going on to leadership roles in Detroit and Chicago city government. Practicing architects are cited, like Richard Rogers and Johanna Hurme of 5468796 Architecture. The editors also invite reflections on postmodernism as it led to “increased attention on contextual design, vernacular architecture, and perhaps more significantly a reinvigorated interest in urban design.” ACSA executive director Michael Monti told AN: “We solicited proposals from a number of potential editorial teams. The interim editorial team for the Fall 2025 issue was selected through a committee of the Board of Directors. They authored the theme and the Call for Papers.” “The organization continues with the next steps for the journal that we communicated to our membership in the spring. This includes an external assessment of decisions, processes, and structures related to JAE and ACSA,” Monti added. “We are also convening a special committee to provide guidance on broader threats and issues facing our member schools. Those steps will inform the appointment of a new Executive Editor and Editorial Board in the upcoming months as well as the direction of the journal.” Disclosure: The author previously responded to the JAE’s call for papers for its now-canceled issue on Palestine.

In Rancho Palos Verde, California, the disassembled Wayfarers Chapel designed by Lloyd Wright, the son of Frank Lloyd Wright, has been stored away since last July, following damage from landslides. A potential site for the ecclesiastical structure has been found. The proposed site would expand the footprint of the serene property and protect its structures from further damage caused by land movement.  In the 1970s, a landslide at the site destroyed the chapel’s visitor center, and the geologic movement was inactive for a while. However, in the past few years activity began accelerating at an unprecedented rate. In February 2024, the Wayfarers Chapel announced that it would close its doors due to land movement in the area. The shuttering left a displaced congregation and devastated brides in its wake, but there was still hope of a return. Then, in May 2024, it was announced that the only way to maintain the structure was to disassemble it. Land movement had caused glass panels to shatter, the metal framing to warp, and cracks to form in the concrete. Though leadership initially wanted to rebuild on site, the worsening conditions proved this was no longer a viable option. In July 2024, with the help of Architectural Resources Group, the church was meticulously disassembled with each part numbered and labeled. Many of the irreplaceable materials used to construct the original chapel were salvaged. The pieces have since been kept in storage, waiting to be rebuilt.  The chapel was disassembled and stored for preservation. (Architectural Resources Group) The chapel’s new site must carry similar characteristics to the old one to uphold its National Historic Landmark designation. The prospective site, Battery Barnes, shares the original site’s coastal views of the Pacific, while situating the reassembled chapel outside the Portuguese Bend. Built in 1943 as part of the U.S. Army’s coastal fortification plan, the Battery Barnes’s connection to World War II could also be highlighted throughout the use of the land.  The glass chapel will be reconstructed using the salvaged original materials. (Architectural Resources Group/Courtesy Wayfarers Chapel) Wayfarers Chapel also plans to take advantage of the expanded footprint of the proposed site. During an episode of “RPV City Talk,” the chapel’s communications director Stephanie Cartozian shared that the organization hopes to rebuild the chapel along with the lost visitor center, as well as constructing a museum, archival center, and restaurant. The campus would also see the addition of public restrooms for hikers, expanding on its community accessibility.   Currently, Wayfarers Chapel is fundraising to cover the rebuild, with part of the funds going toward securing the site. Unlike wildfires, earthquakes, or flooding, landslides are not considered disasters in the State of California. Thus, along with fundraising efforts, local lobbying efforts are being made to add landslides to the list of covered emergencies, which could create a path to governmental assistance.

Just a few days ago, Related Companies and Wynn Resorts scrapped their casino bid for Hudson Yards West. Silverstein Properties, Rush Street Gaming, and Greenwood Gaming and Entertainment have simultaneously updated their own proposal for a “first-class gaming facility” on Manhattan’s West Side, designed by CetraRuddy Architecture and Steelman Partners. The Avenir is a masterplan for 11th Avenue just north of the Javits Center, pushed up against the Port Authority Bus Terminal ramps, where construction is underway on a $10 billion replacement complex by Foster + Partners. The plan entails a 1,000-room luxury hotel, over 12 bars and restaurants, conference and meeting rooms, a spa and fitness center, an outdoor pool, a community gallery on 11th Avenue, and a casino, should the development team earn a gaming license. There will also be 100 units of permanently affordable housing available through New York’s housing lottery system. The Avenir looking east (Courtesy Silverstein Properties) The ground-floor community gallery on 11th Avenue would span the entire block between 40th and 41st Streets, the team noted. The casino would begin on the second floor, and comprise a total 12 percent of the Avenir’s footprint. It would also have natural light, making it noticeably different from other casinos. Renderings show a 785-foot tower that rests atop a podium. The base is 9 stories, and the tower tops out at 45 stories, with by a biophilic green rooftop. The casino would have a separate entrance from the community gallery and hotel to ensure good egress for both user groups. The sculptural qualities are meant to create a “rhythmic harmony within its dense urban surroundings,” developers said, “and the hotel tower is additionally sculpted to create an elegant silhouette on the skyline while creating view corridors from the surrounding neighborhood.” Entrance from 41st Street (Courtesy Silverstein Properties) Nancy Ruddy, CetraRuddy founding principal, said, the “site is located at the crossroads of diverse neighborhoods and activity districts that currently are not connected.” Ruddy said too that the Avenir will “knit together the fabric of this part of the Far West Side by creating an exciting cultural hub that reinforces New York’s character as a pedestrian-friendly and walkable city.” There are today just about a dozen major proposals for New York gaming licenses that the team behind Avenir is up against. The State Gaming Commission is scheduled to announce its decision for the three gaming licenses by December 31, 2025.

A small home in Wayne County, Missouri was torn apart by a tornado. An aerial image by Jeff Roberson taken on March 15 depicts chunks of stick-framed walls and half-recognizable debris strewn across a patchy lawn in an eviscerated orthography of middle-American life. Elisa Iturbe, assistant professor of Architecture at Harvard’s Graduate School of Design, describes this scene as “an image of climate impact, climate victimhood…these walls are doing the hard work of containment, of containing the rituals of human lifestyle.” Roberson’s image embodied the themes that emerged from the Projective Territories Symposium: The atomized fragility of contemporary American domesticity, the fundamental link between ways of living and modes of land tenure, and the necessary primacy of form in architecture’s response to the incoming upheaval of climate change. Lydia Kallipoliti talked about her 2024 book Histories of Ecological Design; An Unfinished Cyclopedia. (Andy Eichler) Projective Territories was hosted at Kent State University’s College of Architecture and Environmental Design on April 3 and 4. Organized and led by the CAED’s assistant professor Paul Mosley, the symposium brought Iturbe, Columbia University’s associate professor Lydia Kallipoliti, California College of the Arts’ associate professor Neeraj Bhatia, and professor Albert Pope of Rice University to Kent, Ohio, to discuss the relationship between territory and architecture in the face of climate change. “At its core, territory is land altered by human inhabitation,” read Mosley’s synopsis. “If ensuring a survivable future means rethinking realities of social organization, economy, and subsistence, then how might architecture—as a way of thinking and rethinking the world—contribute to these new realities?” Projective Territories kicked off on the afternoon of April 3 with a discussion of Bhatia’s Life After Property exhibition hosted at the CAED’s Armstrong Gallery. The exhibition collected drawings, renderings, and models by Bhatia’s practice The Open Workshop on a puzzle-piece shaped table constructed from plywood and painted blue. Nestled into the table’s geometric subtractions, Bhatia, Pope, Mosley, and CAED associate professor Taraneh Meshkani discussed Bhatia’s research into the commons: A system of land tenure by which communities manage and share resources with minimal reliance on the state through an ethic of solidarity, mutualism, and reciprocity. Neeraj Bhatia presented new typologies for collective living. (Andy Eichler) The symposium’s second day was organized into a morning session, “The Erosion of Territory,” with lectures by Kallipoliti and Iturbe, and an afternoon session, “The Architecture of Expanding Ecologies,” with lectures by Bhatia and Pope. Mosley’s introduction to “The Erosion of Territory” situated Kallipoliti and Iturbe’s work in a discussion about “how territories have been historically shaped by extraction and control and are unraveling under strain.” Lydia Kallipoliti’s lecture “Ecological Design; Cohabiting the World” presented questions raised by her 2024 book Histories of Ecological Design; An Unfinished Cyclopedia, which she described as “an attempt to clarify how nature as a concept was used in history.” Kallipoliti proposed an ecological model that projects outward from domestic interiors to the world to generate a “universe of fragmented worldviews and a cloud of stories.” Iturbe’s “Transgressing Immutable Lines” centered on her research into the formal potentials for Community Land Trusts—nonprofits that own buildings in trust on existing real estate. Iturbe described these trusts as “Not just a juridical mechanism, but a proposal for rewriting the relationship between land and people.” “Ecology is the basis for a more pleasurable alternative,” said Mosley in his introduction to the day’s second session. “Cooperation and care aren’t the goals, but the means of happiness.” An exhibition complementing the symposium shared drawings, renderings, and models. (Andy Eichler) Neeraj Bhatia’s lecture “Life After Property” complemented the previous days’ exhibition, problematizing the housing crisis as an ideological commitment to housing rooted in market speculation. Bhatia presented new typologies for collective living with the flexibility to formally stabilize the interpersonal relationships that define life in the commons. Albert Pope finished the day’s lectures with “Inverse Utopia,” presenting work from his 2024 book of the same name, which problematizes postwar American urban sprawl as an incapability to visualize the vast horizontal expansion of low-density development. Collectively, the day’s speakers outlined a model that situated the American domestic form at the center of the global climate crisis. Demanding complete separation from productive territories, this formal ideology of the isolated object is in a process of active dismemberment under climate change. The speakers’ proposed solutions were unified under fresh considerations of established ideas of typology and form, directly engaging politics of the collective as an input for shaping existing space. As Friday’s session drew to a close, the single-family home appeared as a primitive relic which architecture must overcome. Albert Pope’s images of tower complexes in Hong Kong and council estates in London that house thousands appeared as visions of the future. “The only way we can begin to address this dilemma is to begin to understand who we are in order to enlist the kinds of collective responses to this problem,” said Pope. Walker MacMurdo is an architectural designer, critic, and adjunct professor who studies the relationship between architecture and the ground at Kent State University’s College of Architecture and Environmental Design.

A floating pavilion square in plan, topped by a parabolic waffle slab held up with pilotis, will soon debut in Italy at the 19th International Architecture Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia before traveling to Belém, Brazil, for COP30, the UN’s annual climate conference. AquaPraça, a collaboration between Höweler & Yoon and Carlo Ratti Associati, is conceived as a gathering space for global climate dialogue. In Italy, AquaPraça will accompany programming at the Italian Pavilion. It will be transported later this year across the Atlantic Ocean to the coast of Brazil, where world leaders, climate activists, and architects will convene in November at COP30. The pavilion will have capacity for 150 people. (Courtesy CRA/Höweler & Yoon) A water feature in the center of the pavilion was informed by Archimedes’ principle. (Courtesy CRA/Höweler & Yoon) A rectangular tub, in the center of the pavilion, filled with water helps with buoyancy—a design decision informed by Archimedes’ principle, a law of physics fundamental to fluid mechanics. Carlo Ratti said AquaPraça is likewise rooted in architectural history. “In 1979, Aldo Rossi launched the Teatro del Mondo at the first Biennale Architettura, positing that architecture could engage with the past,” Ratti said in a statement. “Today, AquaPraça shows how architecture can engage with the future—by responding to climate and engaging with nature rather than resisting it.” Höweler & Yoon previously designed a similar concept, dubbed Float Lab, set to open on the Schuylkill River in Philadelphia in 2026. Like Float Lab, AquaPraça visitors will bear witness to dynamic fluctuations of sea level rise at eye level, added Eric Höweler. The 4,000-square-foot ensemble coming to Brazil will have capacity for hosting 150 people for exhibitions, workshops, symposia, and cultural events. AquaPraça’s “sloping surfaces and shifting levels embody a delicate equilibrium,” Höweler said. “It’s a platform, both literal and figurative, for deepening our collective understanding and experience of sea level rise and the impacts of climate change on global cities and communities and seeking collective solutions,” elaborated J. Meejin Yoon.  The floating pavilion is currently under construction in northern Italy by steel construction company Cimolai. It will open in Venice on September 4. Then, ahead of COP30 from November 10–21, it will go to Belém, becoming a “permanent floating landmark in the Amazon—an architectural testament to adaptability and dialogue in the face of climate change.”  Visitors will be at eye level with the water. (Courtesy CRA/Höweler & Yoon) Last year’s COP29 took place in Baku, Azerbaijan, while the G20 summit happened in Rio de Janeiro. At G20, Brazil president Luíz Inácio Lula da Silva announced that, by 2030, there will be “zero deforestation” in Brazil, a huge win for climate activists. “We need to take care of the largest forest reserve in the world,” Lula said last year in Rio de Janeiro, “which is under our care. Trying to make people understand that keeping the forest standing is an economic gain.” AquaPraça is a partnership with Italy’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and International Cooperation, and the Italian Ministry of Environment and Energy Security. It’s also supported by Brazil’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Bloomberg Philanthropies, the World Bank’s Connect4Climate program, CIHEAM Bari, and others.

Architect: PPAALocation: Santiago de Querétaro, MexicoCompletion Date:2024Sometimes all it takes to deliver a successful project is a client who is willing to take a chance. When a past residential customer approached Pablo Pérez Palacios, principal of his eponymous firm, Pérez Palacios Arquitectos Asociados (PPAA), about an expansion of an office for the premium dairy company Lyncott in Santiago de Querétaro, Mexico, the architect suggested something unusual: a modular structure made entirely of cross-laminated timber (CLT). In Mexico, as Pérez Palacios explained to AN, concrete is considered the de facto building material. In fact, when the client asked for examples of similar wood construction in Mexico, there simply weren’t any. Adding to the complexity, the architect advocated to use a polycarbonate system by the manufacturer Danpal as the facade. Essentially, Pérez Palacios was proposing a never-used (in Mexico) structure clad in a translucent envelope that would obscure most views from the interior offices. In theory, it sounded crazy. The building’s exterior is clad entirely in Danpal, a polycarbonate system, and connected to a cross-laminated timber frame. (Fabian Martínez) Fortunately, the client, who had recently risen to the top spot in the family-owned company, engaged with Pérez Palacios. At first, the executive told him, “I’m sure you won’t take this project, because it’s in an industrial park with zero budget,” recalled the architect, a past AN Interior Top 50 honoree. “I told him I’d take the project, without telling him that in the back of my mind, I knew I was going to do it out of wood.” Pérez Palacios had to overcome two hurdles from the outset: how to keep costs down despite CLT being a more expensive material than concrete and finding workers who could deliver on the construction. Fortunately, Vigalam, a company that manufactures prefabricated wood structures was located in the same office park as Lyncott, virtually eliminating shipping costs and simplifying the contracting. The team enlisted representatives from Danpal to install the facade system. The company sent a team to place and attach the panels, an exacting process that involves a clip to which a frame is attached and which then receives the polycarbonate pieces. Inside, the framing systems of the CLT and Danpal meet. (Fabian Martínez) Pérez Palacios is either a sly salesman or an eccentric designer—or both—but he managed to pull off one of Mexico’s first all-CLT projects and one of the most striking industrial buildings in recent memory. PPAA connected the thin 10,900-square-foot office expansion to an existing structure. Here the light, efficient addition contrasts the heavy, inefficient existing conditions; Pérez Palacios explained that the original steel and concrete building operates 24 hours a day to support the dairy plant and relies on artificial light. As PPAA captioned an Instagram post about the project, “This new intervention addresses the challenge of balancing the industrial character of the context with a serene and conscious environment focused on connecting with nature.” The translucent facade allows light into the offices and exposes the wood frame from the exterior. (Fabian Martínez) One of the most intriguing aspects of the facade is its lack of transparent glass, though Pérez Palacios noted that there are windows along the side of the building facing the dairy plant. “When you’re in an office, you’re not looking at the view. You are looking at a screen,” he said. “To create an atmosphere with natural light, it’s super nice if you’re going to be sitting at a computer for eight hours a day.” Besides, he added: “There’s nothing to see outside. It’s an industrial park.” The offices are bathed in light via the translucent facade. (Fabian Martínez) PPAA has completed two translucent projects previously: a now-finished office building in China that employed fabric and a housing prototype for a 2022 exhibition at Crystal Bridges Museum in Arkansas. “It was our interpretation of an affordable housing project—and we used Danpal!” Pérez Palacios exclaimed. Still, the dairy building project is the first time he put his theories about Danpal into practice. “We created this translucent envelope that allows people to work in natural light all day long,” Pérez Palacios explained. “It has solar capacities; it blocks the sun rays. It requires zero maintenance and protects the interior structure.” PPAA used wood for the entire structure, including beams, columns, and ceilings. (Fabian Martínez) Efficiency was part of the selling point to Lyncott, whose leader worried about the building’s lightness. “I had to tell him, ‘Don’t worry, it won’t blow away,’” Pérez Palacios recalled with a laugh. He went on to connect the agricultural aspects of the client’s business to the sustainability of building with these methods. The wood reduces the structure’s carbon footprint, and an all-glass facade would have run up the air-conditioning bills. Instead, Lyncott’s new building redirects the sun, part of the reason it has become something of an attraction in Mexico. Pérez Palacios foresees bringing students for site visits, and Danpal has shown the site to potential clients. PPAA has even sold the idea of mass timber construction to a skeptical audience: Now the firm has two more wood projects in the pipeline. Project Specifications Architect: PPAA Structural engineering: Vigalam Electrical engineering: ROA Civil engineering: Consulta Urbana Lighting design: PPAA Facade system: Danpal Glass: Consulta Urbana Roofing: Aircrete Interior finishes: Alfombras de Mexico Fixtures: Biticino Lighting: Magg Furniture: PM Steele, Vipp

At the entrance to Victoria and Albert Museum’s (V&A) historic home in South Kensington, wide stone steps rise toward an ornate facade of carved Portland stone, with heavy wooden doors set beneath an archway that declares culture as cathedral. It’s built to inspire, yes, but also to intimidate—to display the spoils of a national collection shaped by colonial reach. On the other side of London, the same institution has opened its doors to V&A East Storehouse, with access to over 250,000 objects. The facility designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro (DS+R) transforms the obscure world of museum storage into a public experience of collecting, conserving, and storytelling. Like the South Kensington museum, Storehouse also leaves its imprint, inspiring wonder at a moment when public trust in cultural space feels so thin. As Tim Reeve, deputy director of the V&A, put it: “Creative industries are one of the very few success stories of the UK economy.” That creativity is being unpacked. V&A East Storehouse is located inside the London 2012 Olympics Media Centre. (© Hufton+Crow) The 262-by-262-foot (80-by-80-meter) cultural warehouse—once the London 2012 Olympics Media Centre—now welcomes visitors through a plain, functional entrance. Its galvanized steel doors are a modest update on the flexible shell designed by Hawkins\Brown. A plain, functional lobby hosts a new outpost of e5 Bakehouse, softened by new plywood interiors by Thomas Randall-Page. Upstairs, into a brief airlock, and onto a narrow walkway lined with classical busts in crates and on palettes, as if not fully unpacked, you glimpse the ladders, forklifts and shelving below, before you are shot into the dramatic central atrium—a towering scaffold of steel walkways and shelving. The Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park is a place still learning what it wants to be. A surplus of sports venues and a scatter of freshly minted towers jostle for identity, and somehow, the V&A opening up its innards fits right in. Storehouse isn’t a museum—there are no labels, no curation, no interpretation. It’s a working storage facility, a peek behind the curtain. Instruments hang beside rows of chairs, statues stand among ceramics, building fragments, archival boxes, and garments—some visible, others swaddled after reaching their “light quota.” It’s a new idea for museum storage, one that began in Rotterdam in 2021 with MVRDV’s Depot and is put on steroids here, but DS+R are not new to shifting paradigms. “It’s an idea whose time has come,” said architect Liz Diller. She notes that the firm’s work on the High Line has been used—perhaps overused—as a reference point ever since it opened: “It becomes a kind of model for others. I think people will interpret the idea in their own ways,” she added. The central atrium is a towering scaffold of steel walkways and shelving. (© Hufton+Crow) “The Storehouse defies the logics of conventional taxonomies,” said Diller. “Where else would you encounter suits of armor, stage cloth, biscuit tins, building fragments, puppets, thimbles, chandeliers, motorcycles in one place next to each other?” These objects were previously hidden away in Blythe House, Olympia, alongside collections from the British Museum and the Science Museum—until the government announced plans to sell the Edwardian bank. This prompted a conversation about what its storage can and could be. The space spans approximately 172,000 square feet (16,000 square meters)—a fraction of the V&A’s over 850,000 square feet (80,000 square meters) at South Kensington—but it’s dense with meaning. It now houses 250,000 objects and has been designed with five years of growth in mind, with plenty of empty shelving still in view. Patrons can request up to five objects from the collection and make an appointment to view them. (© Hufton+Crow) The object collocations feel accidental but profound. What is a Frankfurt Kitchen, with its strict Bauhaus order, doing just down the walkway from the ornate, gilded Torrijos ceiling from Toledo? Why does a safety curtain control panel share a shelf with a bamboo wind instrument? Everyday objects aren’t elevated so much as exposed—invited to speak on new terms, next to things they were never meant to meet. There are smaller, curated exhibits too—some behind glass—assembled using a modular “kit of parts” display system designed by IDK. There are opportunities for the public to view conservators at work. (© Hufton+Crow) Anyone can request up to five objects from the collection and make an appointment to view them. If the objects are small enough, they’ll be brought to you at a table. If they’re big, you go to them in the darker parts of the museum. As Diller put it, the Storehouse is designed with “an inside-out logic,” where the center is public, the middle semi-private, and the outer edge reserved for conservation, research, and protected storage. There are moments where private and public parts interact, for instance in the “conservation overlooks,” where you can watch the conservators at work from public galleries. It quietly teaches that the arts are an industry too; there are opportunities besides being an artist. Instruments hang beside rows of chairs, statues stand among ceramics, building fragments, archival boxes, and garments. (© Hufton+Crow) Some of what Storehouse allows you to see is uncomfortable. The colonial overtones are hard to miss. These are objects taken from across the world—beautiful, rare, complex—and now stored in a warehouse in East London. The Agra Colonnade, from a 17th-century Mughal building, is on the ground floor where visitors can walk on the glass floor above it, breathtaking and fraught. This is a first step—a way of airing our institutional laundry in public, and inviting interrogation, reinterpretation, and hopefully reckoning. The Agra Colonnade, from a 17th-century Mughal building, is among the objects on view. (© Hufton+Crow) Hanging inside is the 1924 Le Train bleu stage cloth for the Ballets Russes in 1922. (© Hufton+Crow) Mostly, there is a sense of happy chaos, but there are moments that stop you. Down a quiet corridor sits a towering black-box space, spanning two floors. Hanging inside is the 1924 Le Train bleu stage cloth for the Ballets Russes in 1922—a reproduction of Picasso’s Two Women Running Along the Beach. “This is the largest space,” said project architect David Allin. “It lets you see oversized objects from two levels and even watch the conservators at work.” This cloth will later be replaced by the one that the tall space was designed around: the larger Firebird—Natalia Goncharova’s 10-by-16-metre stage backdrop. Here is where you can feel the V&A talking to itself across the city: South Kensington in its lofty register of imperially reaching cast courts, and the Storehouse answers with its mirror image. I catch my breath in front of Le Train bleu, first at its vastness, but then at the hulking crate parked behind it. The Storehouse is rewriting the story and showing us its workings. Ellen Peirson is a London-based writer, editor, and designer.

Raw Hospitality alex spatzier architects reimagines the kitchen as a factory line for June’s Pizza By Kelly Pau • May 29, 2025 • Interiors, West (Alex Spatzier) SHARE June’s Pizza, a no-frills concept by Craig Murli, got its start by slinging dough out of a shipping container in Oakland, California, during the pandemic. In 2021, the cult-favorite pop-up—which famously serves only two pizzas, a margarita and daily special—was forced to close after a failure to file proper permits. Alex Spatzier architects helped revive the long-awaited return of the restaurant, and in true Murli style, it’s unconventional. Located in an industrial building in West Oakland, the brick-and-mortar location lightens an otherwise cold, heavy building with warm materials, skylights, and a sparse build-out. Where the design is centralized is where the magic happens: the kitchen. Read more about the restaurant on aninteriormag.com. CaliforniaRestaurants

Materials Hub eliminates barriers to ethical sourcing across AEC firms, owners, and manufacturers  Acelab announces the launch of its impactful Design for Freedom Tracking solution within the Materials Hub platform, creating the industry’s first AI-powered system that transforms ethical sourcing from aspiration to reality for architecture and design professionals of all levels. (Courtesy Acelab) Making the Invisible Visible: A new era in Ethical Material selection The Materials Hub platform directly addresses the urgent need for responsible building materials by seamlessly integrating Design for Freedom principles into everyday workflows, making ethical considerations impossible to overlook. Acelab executives Vardhan Mehta and Dave Lemont unveiled this transformative technology at the fourth Annual Design for Freedom Summit on March 27 held at Grace Farms in New Canaan, Connecticut. “Our partnership with Acelab and the launch of the Materials Hub is a groundbreaking step in our shared commitment to eliminate forced and child labor from the building materials supply chain,” said Sharon Prince, CEO and founder of Grace Farms Foundation. “Together, we are addressing a critical challenge to advancing ethical supply chains by enabling design professionals to source materials that are less at risk of labor exploitation. By making ethical material selection accessible and practical for architects and designers everywhere, we’re creating meaningful industry-wide change toward a more humane built environment.” “The industry has been held back by disconnected, labor-intensive processes that require firms to manage complex spreadsheets and conduct time-consuming research to verify ethical compliance,” said Vardhan Mehta, cofounder and CEO of Acelab. “Our AI-powered solution bridges the critical gap between the 10 percent of the A&D industry that understands forced labor risks and the 90 percent that needs actionable guidance. Materials Hub makes the invisible visible, ensuring that ethical considerations are displayed alongside performance, cost, and aesthetic decisions—creating a complete picture that transforms how materials are selected.” (Courtesy Acelab) Seamless workflow integration: from complex to intuitive The intuitive Design for Freedom tracking system automatically integrates with project initialization, featuring: Intelligent templates with built-in Design for Freedom reporting standards Real-time certification data enabling instant ethical filtering Ready-to-implement product category schedules aligned with Design for Freedom principles AI-powered risk assessment that flags high-risk locations and materials This frictionless approach eliminates the traditional barriers that have prevented widespread adoption, replacing manual processes that required professionals to: Juggle multiple disconnected spreadsheets Conduct time-intensive product code research Navigate complex variables to determine ethical compliance “Materials Hub places ethical labor considerations directly alongside performance and sustainability metrics, making it impossible to evaluate materials without seeing the full picture of their human impact,” Mehta emphasized. “We’ve translated complex supply chain data into clear, actionable insights through our AI platform, democratizing access to this critical information for all design professionals—not just specialists.” (Courtesy Acelab) Democratizing ethical design across the industry “By eliminating the friction points that have traditionally limited participation in Design for Freedom, Acelab is transforming ethical sourcing from a specialized program into an industry standard,” said Dave Lemont, Acelab’s executive chairman and former CEO of Revit. “Our platform demonstrates the tangible business advantages of ethical materials—showing how DFF guidelines benefit not only vulnerable workers but also strengthen project timelines, risk management, and client relationships.” Acelab’s groundbreaking technology delivers three transformative market solutions: Eliminates practical barriers to ethical material selection Creates unprecedented access to ethical sourcing tools for firms of all sizes Accelerates industry-wide adoption of ethical standards through intuitive technology “By partnering with industry leaders to aggregate and validate ethical supply chain data, we’re creating unprecedented transparency in material selection,” said Mehta. “Materials Hub ensures that even smaller practices without dedicated sustainability teams can confidently specify materials aligned with Design for Freedom principles, leveling the playing field across the industry.” Nora Rizzo, Ethical Materials director at Grace Farms, noted: “What Acelab has created is a game-changer for practitioners at the forefront of material selection. Before Materials Hub, incorporating ethical considerations required extensive knowledge, research, and resources that most firms simply couldn’t access. Now, every architect, designer, and owner can make informed decisions about forced labor risks as they evaluate products holistically. This open-source technology transforms what was once an overwhelming challenge into an integral part of our daily workflow.” Note: Acelab’s Materials Hub platform also integrates with other key sustainability initiatives including the AIA Materials Pledge and mindful MATERIALS Common Materials Framework, creating a comprehensive platform for holistic, ethical design practices. About Acelab: Materials Hub is an all-in-one platform empowering architecture and design firms to seamlessly research, select, and document material decisions. It centralizes knowledge, optimizes research with AI-powered search, streamlines decision-making through improved collaboration, and simplifies documentation through automation. Learn more at acelabusa.com. About Grace Farms: Grace Farms is a cultural and humanitarian center in New Canaan, Connecticut that brings together people across sectors to explore nature, arts, justice, community, and faith at the SANAA-designed River building, on 80 acres of publicly accessible natural landscape. Its humanitarian work to end modern slavery and foster more grace and peace in the local and global community includes leading the Design for Freedom movement. Launched in 2020 by Grace Farms’s CEO and founder Sharon Prince, Design for Freedom reimagines architecture by raising awareness and inspiring responses to disrupt forced labor in the building materials supply chain. The Design for Freedom Working Group comprises more than 100 leaders who together are spearheading a radical paradigm shift and mobilizing the full ecosystem of the built environment. This collaborative approach to comprehensively address humanitarian issues and generate new outcomes is reflected across all the initiatives and spaces of Grace Farms. Learn more at gracefarms.org.

The combination of both companies provides a new platform to tackle challenges within the AEC industry and serve the ever-changing needs of clients. Johnson, Mirmiran & Thompson (JMT), an engineering, architecture, technology, and related consulting services company; and Clark Nexsen, an architecture and engineering firm, announced today that they are combining forces in a transformative merger that will create an employee-owned industry leader in planning, design, architecture, engineering, and construction for clients in the United States and around the world. As part of this merger, Clark Nexsen staff become part of JMT’s 100-percent employee-owned structure—one of the largest ESOPs in the AEC industry—reinforcing the shared commitment to long-term growth, innovation, and client success. This alignment is further strengthened by the cultural fit between the two firms. Both JMT and Clark Nexsen are perennially ranked among the Top 500 Design Firms by Engineering News-Record and share a deep-rooted belief in fostering strong workplace cultures and actively engaging in the communities where their employees live and work. “A shared corporate culture will be the foundation of this union’s success,” said JMT president Mike Blair. “I’m excited about expanding JMT’s capabilities and developing new opportunities for everyone to succeed. I believe this will be a transformative next step for both firms.” The merger will create a firm of more than 2,750 employees and strengthen each other’s architecture and engineering practices, particularly in the Mid-Atlantic and Southeast United States. Clark Nexsen will leverage its expertise in architecture and facilities engineering to enhance JMT’s capabilities. Its transportation team will also reinforce JMT’s presence in that sector. Together, the combined firms will become a powerhouse in the education and federal market sectors, which JMT and Clark Nexsen both serve. “Combining with JMT is transformative for all of us,” said Clark Nexsen president Terri Hall. “We will continue to build on more than a century of achievements, add new geographies and areas of expertise, and provide our employees with many new avenues for professional growth. This is truly an exciting time.” “Two great companies are combining, and on behalf of both leadership teams, we are all excited to build relationships and trust among our combined staff as we expand our services,” said JMT chief operating officer Matt Natale. “We believe this merger will create a greater whole, leveraging the strengths of both firms.” About JMT JMT is a 100-percent employee-owned company headquartered in Hunt Valley, Maryland. With more than 2,450 employees, the firm provides engineering, architecture, environmental, and technology solutions to clients nationwide. JMT is currently ranked number 50 among the Engineering News-Record (ENR) Top 500 Design Firms. The firm is dedicated to delivering a brighter future through the highest quality of services. Among the firm’s most recent award-winning projects are: Hunts Point Access Improvements, Phase 1, The Bronx, New York; Claymont Regional Transportation Center, Claymont, Deleware; and BWI Thurgood Marshall International Airport Restroom Improvements-Phase 1, Baltimore, Maryland. Visit www.jmt.com for more information. About Clark Nexsen Clark Nexsen is a fully integrated architecture and engineering firm headquartered in Virginia Beach, Virginia, with more than 325 employees. Founded in 1920, the firm operates nine offices across the southeastern U.S., serving a wide range of clients in markets from infrastructure to K–12. Ranked number 50 by Building Design+Construction and number 255 on the ENR Top 500 Design Firms list, Clark Nexsen has earned national recognition, including the 2024 Best of Practice Award (Southeast Region) from The Architect’s Newspaper. Notable projects include Fitts-Woolard Hall at North Carolina State, the Madera Cyber Innovation Center at the U.S. Air Force Academy, Ferguson Headquarters 3, and the upcoming Charlotte-Mecklenburg Main Library. Learn more at www.clarknexsen.com. Contacts JMT JMT Corporate Communications [email protected] Clark Nexsen Clark Nexsen Communications [email protected]

We came, we saw, we conquered. From Long Island City to DUMBO, Greenpoint, Chelsea, Tribeca, Nomad, and Soho, design took over New York this past week for NYCxDESIGN. As the widespread agenda can attest, it was a buzzy and busy week in celebration of design. This year, the week coincided with both ICFF and Shelter, which made its inaugural debut. If two fairs didn’t present enough design to see, there were also a dizzying array of exhibitions, gatherings, and talks, including AN Interior’s own 10th anniversary party held at Salvatori’s showroom. Brooklyn had a stronger showing than in past years: The programming officially kicked off in Williamsburg and then celebrated its closing night in DUMBO, a newly designated design district. Throughout all the latest products presented, the following stood out for its visual concept, craftsmanship, attention to production, and longevity. Below are the latest releases pulled from both fairs as well as the many showroom and gallery activations throughout the city that were well worth traversing boroughs to check out in-person. The Arcora by HEAKO Studio (Courtesy HEAKO Studio) Arcora and Himalaya Lunar by HEAKO Studio These refined yet playful lights from HEAKO Studio were on view at Shelter. In addition to the standing Oblique Glow light, which balances off of a skyscraper-inspired steel base, the Himalaya Lunar and the Arcora were the latest lighting from the New York–based studio. The former is a white stone affixed to an L-shaped brass pipe, finished by hand. The latter continues the geometric language with a curved aluminum body, built around an illuminating globe. It can be a sconce or tabletop lamp. A wood and leather chair on view at OUTSIDE/IN (Jonathan Hokklo) Reflect by Tanuvi Hegde Presented at OUTSIDE/IN by Lyle Gallery and Hello Human, Reflect is a chair designed for the fidgety, stimulated, and anxious. Brooklyn-based furniture designer and architect Tanuvi Hegde uses cherry wood with a hand-stitched leather cushion to craft seating embedded with a steel ball within the armrest for fidgeting. Reflect is part of Hedge’s thesis, ”Exhibit (A): Furniture for the Anxious Being,” that explores how furniture can respond to emotions and mental health. The CMPT collection resolves compact living (Courtesy Lichen/Karimoku Furniture) CMPT by Lichen and Karimoku Furniture Design platform and showroom Lichen collaborated with Karimoku Furniture at ICFF. In addition to re-introducing the ZE sofa from Karimoku’s archive, the duo launched a new collection, CMPT, that combines the latter’s craftsmanship with the former’s New York sensibilities. Designed for practicality, storage, and the limits of compact spaces, the collection begins with the Apple Box, a chestnut cube that can be stacked atop one another to create shifting consoles or compartments. Each modular box is held together by an exposed wooden peg. The collection, elegantly simple, is designed to grow with its owners throughout their life. Read more about the latest product releases that caught AN’s eye on aninteriormag.com.

The Flatiron Building, 25 Water Street, old Pfizer World Headquarters, Pearl House, 55 Broad Street—these are just a few New York addresses slated for office-to-residential conversion. Now add another one to list: 5 Times Square. Ernst & Young built 5 Times Square in 2002 for its headquarters, with Kohn Pedersen Fox (KPF) as the design architect, but the corporation vacated the premises in 2022. The vacancy rate has hovered around 75 percent ever since. Now, Gensler is converting 5 Times Square into a residential property fitted with 1,250 market rate and affordable homes. Gensler is also behind a number of other prominent office-to-residential conversions in New York today, including Pearl House and the old Pfizer World HQ, as reported by AN. 5 Times Square rises 575 feet in a 38 story envelope. Governor Hochul affirmed that, of the new 1,250 units, 313 of those will be affordable, or roughly a quarter’s worth. No changes need be made to the building envelope, city officials shared, because the floor plates are already “well-suited” for residential purposes. “Confronting a decades-long housing crisis requires creating new housing in every neighborhood at an accelerated pace—even here at the ‘Crossroad of the World’ in Times Square,” Mayor Adams said in a statement. “The transformation of 5 Times Square from an underutilized office building into 1,250 new homes capitalizes on hard-fought Adams and Hochul administration victories while fulfilling my plan to build 100,000 new homes in Manhattan over the next decade.” 5 Times Square totals approximately 1 million square feet. Of that number, over 900,000 square feet will be converted into residential space, while about 40,000 square feet will remain retail. The initiative is part of Mayor Adams’s Manhattan Plan, which seeks to add 100,000 new homes in Manhattan in the next decade. The conversion was made possible by an amendment to the 42nd Street Development General Project Plan, announced yesterday by Adams, Hochul, and the Empire State Development (ESD) Board of Directors. Deputy Mayor for Housing, Economic Development, and Workforce Adolfo Carrión, Jr. called 5 Times Square’s conversion “a game-changer for Times Square and Midtown, paving the way for the future of urban growth.” Construction should begin by the end of 2025 and complete in 2027.

Floyd Bennett Field is a massive piece of federal property in Marine Park, Brooklyn, a floodplain that’s regularly deluged since Hurricane Sandy. Noah Martz, a Brooklyn Law School student, has an idea for how to use it that has Reddit talking. What to do with Floyd Bennett Field (FBF) has long perplexed planners, and the site now finds itself entangled in an online tug of war match between competing architectural ideologies.  “Hero Village” is the name of Martz’s land use proposal for the former airfield. It would bring approximately 20,000 residential units designated for NYPD and FDNY officers, and EMTs to the 1,300-acre plot. The design is “inspired by President Trump’s vision to build beautifully again,” Hero Village’s promotional video states. “Mr. President, it’s time for New York to truly back the blue,” the video concludes.  Martz regularly makes appeals to “MAGA YIMBY” and “neotrad” accounts on X (formerly Twitter) to drum up support for the proposal through the Hero Village NYC X account, which arrives amid other traditional propositions for New York. Penn Station’s revival, for instance, could very well yield a neoclassical design. It’s safe to say trad architects and their sympathizers feel emboldened by this president. “The idea for Hero Village came from witnessing firsthand how increasingly unaffordable New York City has become, especially for those who protect and serve the city,” Martz told AN. “Today, over 52 percent of NYPD officers live outside the five boroughs, largely due to high housing costs. At the same time, the city faces a chronic shortage of new housing construction, especially larger, family-sized units. Hero Village is a response to these problems.” The proposal however hasn’t been without criticism from other very online interlocutors. Traditional loft buildings would line Hero Village’s main thoroughfare, supported by a cyberlink rail system. (Courtesy Hero Village) “In reality, there are much more efficient ways of building density, even if you want to add facade articulation in the unclear ‘historic’ style described in the post,” said AN contributor Ryan Scavnicky, author of Architecture and Videogames: Intersecting Worlds. As a professor at Marywood University, Scavnicky studies internet subcultures and how architectural ideas proliferate on social media. “Critiquing the proposal itself—it’s in a floodplain, its inefficient layout—are moot points because this proposal is just using architecture as a medium to sway political power,” Scavnicky added, with emphasis. (Anti) Co-op City? The FBF Shelter Complex, otherwise called the Humanitarian Emergency Response and Relief Center at FBF, was established at the South Brooklyn airfield in 2023 for migrant families inside shuttered aircraft hangars. By December 2024, there were at least 850 children living in the complex and attending New York City public schools. The complex was shut down in winter 2025 by New York City Mayor Eric Adams—teachers have since raised grave concerns over displaced migrant family welfare.  Hero Village was rolled out in the months after the Adams administration evacuated the FBF Shelter Complex. Its proposed architecture takes cues from Poundbury, a master planned community in the U.K. “endorsed by King Charles III,” Martz said, but also places closer to home like Cobble Hill, Carroll Gardens, and Brooklyn Heights. The Cumberland Street development near Barclays Center and Gateway Estates in East New York are other precedents Martz pointed to.  A cyberlink rail system would support Hero Village, with a direct connection to the 2/5. (Courtesy Hero Village) The main drag at Hero Village is a north-south thoroughfare lined by the kind of loft buildings you’d see in Soho or the Garment District of Manhattan. A cyberlink rail system would shuttle the main axis, which terminates at a monumental obelisk. This rail line would connect Hero Village denizens to the Flatbush Avenue–Brooklyn College (2/5) subway stop. The cyberlink rail system itself is inspired by Elon Musk’s Hyperloop and Tesla’s Robovan. In the future, “advanced tunneling technology” could extend the 2 Train down Flatbush Avenue, connecting Hero Village with New York City, Martz posited. Martz drew up the master plan himself in Google Sketchup, he said, which took “over a year.” He then hired a rendering studio for the final graphics. Every street at Hero Village would be named after an NYPD or FDNY officer killed in the line of duty.  “I believe it’s essential to create places that also serve as spaces of reflection and remembrance,” Martz said in regard to the obelisk and the street names. He added: “The idea of an obelisk as the central memorial was inspired by its deep historical significance in American public spaces. One of the earliest examples dates back to Williamsburg, Virginia, where an obelisk was erected to honor those who opposed the Stamp Act of 1765.” Martz finds inspiration from obelisks erected after the 1765 Stamps Act rebellion. (Boston Public Library/Wikimedia Commons/CC BY 2.0) “Obelisks are now common markers of solemn remembrance, particularly for fallen service members,” Martz continued. “Hero Village will include several other memorials within park spaces and community centers dedicated to those who have given their lives in service to New York.” To mitigate flooding, Martz alluded to an unlikely example: Co-op City in the Bronx, which was likewise built on marshland. “There is ample precedent for successful residential development in flood-prone areas,” Martz noted. “While Hero Village differs significantly in style [from Co-op City], this precedent shows the feasibility of development with proper mitigation measures.” Martz does have misgivings about the comparison, however. “I am strongly opposed to the modernist ‘tower in the park’ planning approach championed by Le Corbusier, which shaped developments like Co-op City,” Martz replied when asked about his philosophy. “While Co-op City successfully provides a large number of affordable housing units, its 1960s-era design reflects a deeply flawed urban planning philosophy. The development suffers from an inefficient use of land, a lack of street-level connectivity, and an absence of human-scale, mixed-use environments.” “By contrast,” Martz continued, “Hero Village would deliver more housing on a smaller footprint through thoughtful design and land use. It emphasizes traditional urbanism with walkable narrow streets, mixed-use buildings, human-scaled architecture, and a transit-oriented layout that supports both residents and the broader community.” The main thoroughfare would terminate at a monumental obelisk. (Courtesy Hero Village) The North Forty Natural Area would be preserved and existing aircraft hangars would become museums and event spaces at Hero Village. Daycare centers, supermarkets, and playgrounds would abound. Martz elaborated Hero Village would incorporate best practices from New York’s East Side Coastal Resiliency Project. This means Hero Village would have a resilient seawall and ample park space which is not only “an aesthetic feature,” Martz said, but also “a core piece of flood protection infrastructure.” A Ruinous Ideology? Today, Martz is actively courting the Trump administration to help make Hero Village happen, but also New York City Councilmembers including Inna Vernikov, and Mayor Adams. He’s written letters to U.S. Housing and Urban Development (HUD) Secretary Scott Turner, Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, and NYPD and FDNY union associations. The promotional video for Hero Village congratulates Trump for his “stunning victory.” Floyd Bennett Field is in proximity to Councilmember Vernikov’s South Brooklyn district. Today, Vernikov is a polemic figure—she recently made headlines for showing up to a Brooklyn College protest “with a gun visible in her hip,” but she was later cleared of the “illegal gun charge.” Hero Village has publicly asked for Vernikov’s support on social media. Still, Martz affirmed he thinks Hero Village could garner bipartisan favor. “In March, a joint task force was launched to explore how underutilized federal land can be repurposed to increase housing supply and reduce costs across the country,” Martz added. “Utilizing [FBF] to provide housing for those who have dedicated their lives to public service is a logical and moral use of the site. It’s a bipartisan solution, one that should unite local, state, and federal officials.” Scavnicky however sees cracks in this logic: “In an attempt to woo Trump, Musk, and their base constituents, it seems almost like just an attempt to get their attention,” he said of the plan. “The proposal does create affordable housing for the working class, yet only members of the working class who serve the crown, err, I mean the state are worthy of purchasing units [sic].” “This X account wants to get retweeted so badly that they are willing to create architecture that betrays the needs of the people,” Scavnicky continued. “But more importantly, it serves as a fine example of an ideology’s inherent class discrimination through reasoning: Why wouldn’t these politicians support this project if it was for everyone instead of just for cops and firefighters?” Hero Village takes inspiration from Brooklyn Heights, Cobble Hill, and other historic neighborhoods. (Courtesy Hero Village) Renderings of Hero Village are similar to another recent proposal for FBF shared last March by Eli Lever, a local real estate developer. Lever’s design calls for much larger proto-Hausmannian courtyard buildings, as opposed to Martz’s brownstones. The Jamaica Bay-Rockaway Parks Conservancy (JBRPC) has also proposed a climate hub for the grounds, a decidedly different use from the housing ideas. When asked about who will be eligible to live in Hero Village, and whether or not it’d be open to teachers and social workers like Co-op City, Martz replied: “These details are still being developed. The proposal has only recently been made public. The current focus is on generating community interest and gathering feedback.” Scavnicky cautions against attempts to look to the past to inform the future. “The need for architecture to uphold some image of an ideal past is a ruinous ideology, as can be seen in any American suburban house with fake storm windows,” Scavnicky elaborated. “This is inefficiency in service of the image—all when we should be looking toward new ways of living rather than romanticizing the past. And it’s not just about aesthetic treatment—the architectural plan of the proposed city is also an exact duplicate of an older world that doesn’t, to me, deserve to be recreated with such monotony.”

Brought to you by: Architect: BNIMCompletion Date:2024Location: Johnston, IowaIn the human cardiovascular system blood, oxygen, and the heart can’t function without one another. At LifeServe Blood Center, a laboratory and blood donation center in Iowa, the building’s integrated design operates the same way: If you take away any component, it doesn’t work as it should. BNIM Architects designed the facility in Johnston, Iowa, to account for privacy, where needed, while also delivering a building that puts its life-saving vocation front and center. LifeServe previously operated out of a former bank downtown. Age, a lack of parking logistics, and a separation of spaces within the building were among the challenges. For its new headquarters it was apparent LifeServe needed a space that wholeheartedly reflected its mission to support long, healthy lives. Horizontally oriented shading devices were implemented on the south- and west-faces. (Kendall McCaugherty) “Being an institution that supports life in the way that they do, the whole idea of well-being was important to them, also longevity in terms of being responsible with regards to materials and building a facility that would last,” Rod Kruse, principal at BNIM, told AN. LifeServe’s new site is located in a suburban setting with easy access to the interstate. The move addressed the need for parking and easy access to its distribution network. For BNIM, working on LifeServe was a real “discovery process,” according to Kruse, which required understanding how the company’s services operate and how a new facility could make these processes more efficient. The 56,290-square-foot building serves myriad purposes: as corporate headquarters, donor center, blood processing laboratory, and as a garage for a fleet of commercial vehicles. The site allows for ease of traffic flow for LifeServe’s fleet of vehicles. (Kendall McCaugherty) The long, linear site spans from east to west; this orientation informed the building’s programming and its facade system. Public-oriented spaces were largely placed to the south side, while support areas such as the bus traffic and lot occupy the north and west faces. The massing comprises two long, horizontal volumes set off from one another in plan. An opening for bus traffic flow was located between the building and the garage area. A primary goal of the facade system was to deliver comfort without compromising character. A robust shading scheme installed over the large spans of glazing was the best solution. BNIM’s design considered glare and heat gain. The firm opted for horizontal shading fins, as solar studies found a horizontal orientation worked better than vertical on the south-, east-, and west-facing elevations. Studies also informed the ideal spacing for the blades, so as to control the amount of light entering the building. They were spaced to also afford views out toward the tree-lined landscape. While typically laboratories are dark, internal spaces with little to no natural light, at LifeServe they were located to take advantage of natural light. Inside, shading devices, like daylight and glare sensors, also keep solar gain at bay. Inside, so that new equipment could be added, ducting and mechanics were systemized on the ceiling. (Kendall McCaugherty) “The facade system basically becomes the architecture and the character of the building,” Kruse added. “It’s a functional element that really results in the architectural expression.” Corten steel was applied on the facade sparingly to leave room for large spans of glass. The shading devices installed on the glazed portions of the building were specified with a similar reddish-brown hue. Precast concrete is largely enveloped by the exterior shading devices but left exposed to face the bus stalls and garage facilities. A diagram shows the installation of the shading system and screens. (Courtesy BNIM) To conceal the bus lot, at the north end, a custom-designed screen serves as an organizational device. It completes the building visually, while also projecting its identity. The pattern on the metal paneling was inspired by blood cells viewed under a microscope. Using imagery, BNIM developed the pattern in its own software. Inside, flexibility was key. To accommodate changing technologies LifeServe needed lab space that could adapt to new equipment. Power distribution was run through the floor, and all the ducting and mechanics were systemized on the ceiling, allowing for future upgrades. Much like the facade, and the human body itself, the interiors operate as an integrated system where aesthetics drive functionality—or perhaps the other way around. Project Specifications Design Architect: BNIM Architect of Record: BNIM Landscape Architect: Confluence Client: LifeServe Blood Centers Contractor: Hansen Company Client Representative: Formation Group Structural Engineer: Raker Rhodes Engineering Lighting Design: MODUS Civil Engineer: Civil Design Advantage Facade System: Tubelite Cladding: Tekko Steel, Petrarch, PDM Precast, David Bear Glass: Vitro Windows: Kingspan, Solatube Doors: Tubelight, Wayne Dalton, Stanley, Uniq-Wall, VT Industries Interior Finishes: Mannington, Delta, Autex, Linea, Bradley, Tarkett, Concreteworks East, Nevamar, Corian, Cambria Fixtures: Waldinger