This edition of the Venice Biennale includes 65 national pavilions, 11 collateral events, and over 750 participants in the international exhibition curated by Italian architect and engineer Carlo Ratti. Entitled Intelligens: Natural Artificial Collective, its stated aim is to make Venice a ‘living laboratory’. But Ratti’s exhibition in the Arsenale has been hit by mixed reviews. The AJ’s Rob Wilson described it as ‘a bit of a confusing mess’, while other media outlets have called the robot-heavy exhibit of future-facing building-focused solutions to the climate crisis a ‘tech-bro fever dream’ and a ‘mind-boggling rollercoaster’ to mention a few. It is a distinct shift away from the biennale of two years ago twhen Ghanaian-Scottish architect Lesley Lokko curated the main exhibitions, including 89 participants – of which more than half were from Africa or the African diaspora – in a convincing reset of the architectural conversation.Advertisement This year’s National Pavilions and collateral exhibits, by contrast, have tackled the largest themes in architecture and the world right now in a less constrained way than the main exhibitions. The exhibits are radical and work as a useful gauge for understanding what’s important in each country: decarbonisation, climate resilience, the reconstruction of Gaza, and an issue more prevalent in politics closer to home: gender wars. What's not to miss in the Giardini? British Pavilion (photography: Chris Lane) UK Pavilion The British Pavilion this year, which won a special mention from the Venetian jury, is housing a show by a British-Kenyan collab titled GBR – Geology of Britannic Repair. In it, the curators explore the links between colonialism, the built environment and geological extraction. Focusing on the Rift Valley, which runs from east Africa to the Middle East, including Palestine, the exhibition was curated by the Nairobi-based studio cave_bureau, UK-based curator, writer and Farrell Centre director Owen Hopkins and Queen Mary University professor Kathryn Yusoff. The pavilion’s façade is cloaked by a beaded veil of agricultural waste briquettes and clay and glass beads, produced in Kenya and India, echoing both Maasai practices and beads once made on Venice’s Murano, as currency for the exchange of metals, minerals and slaves. The pavilion’s six gallery spaces include multisensory installations such as the Earth Compass, a series of celestial maps connecting London and Nairobi; the Rift Room, tracing one of humans’ earliest migration routes; and the Shimoni Slave Cave, featuring a large-scale bronze cast of a valley cave historically used as a holding pen for enslaved people.Advertisement The show also includes Objects of Repair, a project by design-led research group Palestine Regeneration Team (PART), looking at how salvaged materials could help rebuild war-torn Gaza, the only exhibit anywhere in the Biennale that tackled the reconstruction of Gaza face-on – doing so impressively, both politically and sensitively. Read more here. Danish Pavilion (photography: Hampus Berndtson) Demark Pavilion A firm favourite by most this year, the Danish exhibition Build of Site, curated by Søren Pihlmann of Pihlmann Architects, transforms the pavilion, which requires renovation anyway, into both a renovation site and archive of materials. Clever, simple and very methodical, the building is being both renewed while at the same time showcasing innovative methods to reuse surplus materials uncovered during the construction process – as an alternative to using new resources to build a temporary exhibition. The renovation of the 1950s Peter Koch-designed section of the pavilion began in December 2024 and will be completed following the biennale, having been suspended for its duration. On display are archetypal elements including podiums, ramps, benches and tables – all constructed from the surplus materials unearthed during the renovation, such as wood, limestone, concrete, stone, sand, silt and clay. Belgian Pavilion (photography: Michiel De Cleene) Belgium Pavilion If you need a relaxing break from the intensity of the biennale, then the oldest national pavilion in the Giardini is the one for you. Belgium’s Building Biospheres: A New Alliance between Nature and Architecture brings ‘plant intelligence’ to the fore. Commissioned by the Flanders Architecture Institute and curated by landscape architect Bas Smets and neurobiologist Stefano Mancuso, the exhibit investigates how the natural ‘intelligence’ of plants can be used to produce an indoor climate – elevating the role of landscape design and calling for it to no longer serve as a backdrop for architecture. Inside, more than 200 plants occupy the central area beneath the skylight, becoming the pavilion’s centrepiece, with the rear space visualising ‘real-time’ data on the prototype’s climate control performance. Spanish Pavilion (photography: Luca Capuano) Spain Pavilion One for the pure architecture lovers out there, models (32!), installations, photographs and timber structures fill the Spanish Pavilion in abundance. Neatly curated by architects Roi Salgueiro Barrio and Manuel Bouzas Barcala, Internalities shows a series of existing and research projects that have contributed to decarbonising construction in Spain. The outcome? An extensive collection of work exploring the use of very local and very specific regenerative and low-carbon construction and materials – including stone, wood and soil. The joy of this pavilion comes from the 16 beautiful timber frames constructed from wood from communal forests in Galicia. Polish Pavilion (photography: Luca Capuano) Poland Pavilion Poland’s pavilion was like Marmite this year. Some loved its playful approach while others found it silly. Lares and Penates, taking its name from ancient Roman deities of protection, has been curated by Aleksandra Kędziorek and looks at what it means and takes to have a sense of security in architecture. Speaking to many different anxieties, it refers to the unspoken assumption of treating architecture as a safe haven against the elements, catastrophes and wars – showcasing and elevating the mundane solutions and signage derived from building, fire and health regulations. The highlight? An ornate niche decorated with tiles and stones just for … a fire extinguisher. Dutch Pavilion (photography: Cristiano Corte) Netherlands Pavilion Punchy and straight to the point, SIDELINED: A Space to Rethink Togetherness takes sports as a lens for looking at how spatial design can both reveal and disrupt the often-exclusionary dynamics of everyday environments. Within the pavilion, the exhibit looks beyond the large-scale arena of the stadium and gymnasium to investigate the more localised and intimate context of the sports bar, as well as three alternative sports – a site of both social production and identity formation – as a metaphor for uniting diverse communities. The pavilion-turned-sports bar, designed by Koos Breen and Jeannette Slütter and inspired by Asger Jorn’s three-sided sports field, is a space for fluidity and experimentation where binary oppositions, social hierarchies and cultural values are contested and reshaped – complete with jerseys and football scarfs (currently a must-have fashion item) worn by players in the alternative Anonymous Allyship aligning the walls. Read Derin Fadina’s review for the AJ here. Performance inside the Nordic Countries Pavilion (photography: Venla Helenius) Nordic Countries Pavilion Probably the most impactful national pavilion this year (and with the best tote bag by far), the Nordic Countries have presented an installation with performance work. Curated by Kaisa Karvinen, Industry Muscle: Five Scores for Architecture continues Finnish artist Teo Ala-Ruona’s work on trans embodiment and ecology by considering the trans body as a lens through which to examine modern architecture and the built environment. The three-day exhibition opening featured a two-hour performance each day with Ala-Ruona and his troupe crawling, climbing and writhing around the space, creating a bodily dialogue with the installations and pavilion building itself, which was designed by celebrated Modernist architect Sverre Fehn. The American pavilion next door, loudly (country music!) turns its back on what’s going on in its own country by just celebrating the apathetical porch, making the Nordic Countries seem even more relevant in this crucial time. Read Derin Fadina’s review for the AJ here. German Pavilion (photography: Luca Capuano) Germany Pavilion An exhibit certainly grabbing the issue of climate change by its neck is the German contribution, Stresstest. Curated by Nicola Borgmann, Elisabeth Endres, Gabriele G Kiefer and Daniele Santucci, the pavilion has turned climate change into a literal physical and psychological experience for visitors by creating contrasting ‘stress’ and ‘de-stress’ rooms. In the dark stress room, a large metal sculpture creates a cramped and hot space using heating mats hung from the ceiling and powered by PVs. Opposite is a calmer space demonstrating strategies that could be used to reduce the heat of cities, and between the two spaces is a film focusing on the impacts of cities becoming hotter. If this doesn’t highlight the urgency of the situation, I’m not sure what will. Best bits of the Arsenale outside the main exhibitions Bahrain Pavilion (photography: Andrea Avezzù) Bahrain Pavilion Overall winner of this year’s Golden Lion for best national participation, Bahrain’s pavilion in the historic Artiglierie of the Arsenale is a proposal for living and working through heat conditions. Heatwave, curated by architect Andrea Faraguna, reimagines public space design by exploring passive cooling strategies rooted in the Arab country’s climate, as well as cultural context. A geothermal well and solar chimney are connected through a thermo-hygrometric axis that links underground conditions with the air outside. The inhabitable space that hosts visitors is thus compressed and defined by its earth-covered floor and suspended ceiling, and is surrounded by memorable sandbags, highlighting its scalability for particularly hot construction sites in the Gulf where a huge amount of construction is taking place. In the Arsenale’s exhibition space, where excavation wasn’t feasible, this system has been adapted into mechanical ventilation, bringing in air from the canal side and channelling it through ductwork to create a microclimate. Slovenian Pavilion (photography: Andrea Avezzù) Slovenia Pavilion The AJ’s Rob Wilson’s top pavilion tip this year provides an enjoyable take on the theme of the main exhibition, highlighting how the tacit knowledge and on-site techniques and skills of construction workers and craftspeople are still the key constituent in architectural production despite all the heat and light about robotics, prefabrication, artificial intelligence and 3D printing. Master Builders, curated by Ana Kosi and Ognen Arsov and organised by the Museum of Architecture and Design (MAO) in Ljubljana, presents a series of ‘totems’ –accumulative sculpture-like structures that are formed of conglomerations of differently worked materials, finishes and building elements. These are stacked up into crazy tower forms, which showcase various on-site construction skills and techniques, their construction documented in accompanying films. Uzbekistan Pavilion (photography: Luca Capuano) Uzbekistan Pavilion Uzbekistan’s contribution explores the Soviet era solar furnace and Modernist legacy. Architecture studio GRACE, led by curators Ekaterina Golovatyuk and Giacomo Cantoni have curated A Matter of Radiance. The focus is the Sun Institute of Material Science – originally known as the Sun Heliocomplex – an incredible large-scale scientific structure built in 1987 on a natural, seismic-free foundation near Tashkent and one of only two that study material behaviour under extreme temperatures. The exhibition examines the solar oven’s site’s historical and contemporary significance while reflecting on its scientific legacy and influence moving beyond just national borders. Applied Arts Pavilion (photography: Andrea Avezzù) V&A Applied Arts Pavilion Diller Scofidio + Renfro (DS+R) is having a moment. The US-based practice, in collaboration with V&A chief curator Brendan Cormier, has curated On Storage, which aptly explores global storage architectures in a pavilion that strongly links to the V&A’s recent opening of Storehouse, its new (and free) collections archive in east London. Featured is a six-channel (and screen) film entitled Boxed: The Mild Boredom of Order, directed by the practice itself and following a toothbrush, as a metaphor for an everyday consumer product, on its journey through different forms of storage across the globe – from warehouse to distribution centre to baggage handlers down to the compact space of a suitcase. Also on display are large-format photographs of V&A East Storehouse, DS+R’s original architectural model and sketchbook and behind-the-scenes photography of Storehouse at work, taken by emerging east London-based photographers. Canal Café (photography: Marco Zorzanello) Canal café Golden Lion for the best participation in the actual exhibition went to Canal Café, an intervention designed by V&A East Storehouse’s architect DS+R with Natural Systems Utilities, SODAI, Aaron Betsky and Davide Oldani. Serving up canal-water espresso, the installation is a demonstration of how Venice itself can be a laboratory to understand how to live on the water in a time of water scarcity. The structure, located on the edge of the Arsenale’s building complex, draws water from its lagoon before filtering it onsite via a hybrid of natural and artificial methods, including a mini wetland with grasses. The project was recognised for its persistence, having started almost 20 years ago, just showing how water scarcity, contamination and flooding are still major concerns both globally and, more locally, in the tourist-heavy city of Venice. And what else? Holy See Pavilion (photography: Andrea Avezzù) The Holy See Much like the Danish Pavilion, the Pavilion of the Holy See is also taking on an approach of renewal this year. Over the next six months, Opera Aperta will breathe new life into the Santa Maria Ausiliatrice Complex in the Castello district of Venice. Founded as a hospice for pilgrims in 1171, the building later became the oldest hospital and was converted into school in the 18th century. In 2001, the City of Venice allocated it for cultural use and for the next four years it will be managed by the Dicastery for Culture and Education of the Holy See to oversee its restoration. Curated by architect, curator and researcher Marina Otero Verzier and artistic director of Fondaco Italia, Giovanna Zabotti, the complex has been turned into a constant ‘living laboratory’ of collective repair – and received a special mention in the biennale awards. The restoration works, open from Tuesday to Friday, are being carried out by local artisans and specialised restorers with expertise in recovering stone, marble, terracotta, mural and canvas painting, stucco, wood and metal artworks. The beauty, however, lies in the photogenic fabrics, lit by a warm yellow glow, hanging from the walls within, gently wrapping the building’s surfaces, leaving openings that allow movement and offer glimpses of the ongoing restoration. Mobile scaffolding, used to support the works, also doubles up as furniture, providing space for equipment and subdividing the interior. Togo Pavilion (photography: Andrea Avezzù) Togo Pavilion The Republic of Togo has presented its first pavilion ever at the biennale this year with the project Considering Togo’s Architectural Heritage, which sits intriguingly at the back of a second-hand furniture shop. The inaugural pavilion is curated by Lomé and Berlin-based Studio NEiDA and is in Venice’s Squero Castello. Exploring Togo’s architectural narratives from the early 20th century, and key ongoing restoration efforts, it documents key examples of the west African country’s heritage, highlighting both traditional and more modern building techniques – from Nôk cave dwellings to Afro-Brazilian architecture developed by freed slaves to post-independence Modernist buildings. Some buildings showcased are in disrepair, despite most of the modern structures remaining in use today, including Hotel de la Paix and the Bourse du Travail, suggestive of a future of repair and celebration. Estonian Pavilion (photography: Joosep Kivimäe) Estonia Pavilion Another firm favourite this year is the Estonian exhibition on Riva dei Sette Martiri on the waterfront between Corso Garibaldi and the Giardini.  The Guardian’s Olly Wainwright said that outside the Giardini, it packed ‘the most powerful punch of all.’ Simple and effective, Let Me Warm You, curated by trio of architects Keiti Lige, Elina Liiva and Helena Männa, asks whether current insulation-driven renovations are merely a ‘checkbox’ to meet European energy targets or ‘a real chance’ to enhance the spatial and social quality of mass housing. The façade of the historic Venetian palazzetto in which it is housed is clad with fibre-cement insulation panels in the same process used in Estonia itself for its mass housing – a powerful visual statement showcasing a problematic disregard for the character and potential of typical habitable spaces. Inside, the ground floor is wrapped in plastic and exhibits how the dynamics between different stakeholders influence spatial solutions, including named stickers to encourage discussion among your peers. Venice Procuratie (photography: Mike Merkenschlager) SMAC (San Marco Art Centre) Timed to open to the public at the same time as the biennale, SMAC is a new permanent arts institution in Piazza San Marco, on the second floor of the Procuratie, which is owned by Generali. The exhibition space, open to the public for the first time in 500 years, comprises 16 galleries arranged along a continuous corridor stretching over 80m, recently restored by David Chipperfield Architects. Visitors can expect access through a private courtyard leading on to a monumental staircase and experience a typically sensitive Chipperfield restoration, which has revived the building’s original details: walls covered in a light grey Venetian marmorino made from crushed marble and floors of white terrazzo. During the summer, its inaugural programme features two solo exhibitions dedicated to Australian modern architect Harry Seidler and Korean landscape designer Jung Youngsun. Holcim's installation (photography: Celestia Studio) Holcim x Elemental Concrete manufacturer Holcim makes an appearance for a third time at Venice, this time partnering with Chilean Pritzker Prize-winning Alejandro Aravena’s practice Elemental – curator of the 2016 biennale – to launch a resilient housing prototype that follows on from the Norman Foster-designed Essential Homes Project. The ‘carbon-neutral’ structure incorporates Holcim’s range of low-carbon concrete ECOPact and is on display as part of the Time Space Existence exhibition organised by the European Cultural Centre in their gardens. It also applies Holcim’s ‘biochar’ technology for the first time, a concrete mix with 100 per cent recycled aggregates, in a full-scale Basic Services Unit. This follows an incremental design approach, which could entail fast and efficient construction via the provision of only essential housing components, and via self-build. The Next Earth at Palazzo Diedo (photography: Joan Porcel) The Next Earth At Palazzo Diedo’s incredible dedicated Berggruen Arts and Culture space, MIT’s department of architecture and think tank Antikythera (apparently taking its name from the first-known computer) have come together to create the exhibition The Next Earth: Computation, Crisis, Cosmology, which questions how philosophy and architecture must and can respond to various planet-wide crises. Antikythera’s The Noocene: Computation and Cosmology from Antikythera to AI looks at the evolution of ‘planetary computation’ as an ‘accidental’ megastructure through which systems, from the molecular to atmospheric scales, become both comprehensible and composable. What is actually on display is an architectural scale video monolith and short films on AI, astronomy and artificial life, as well as selected artefacts. MIT’s Climate Work: Un/Worlding the Planet features 37 works-in-progress, each looking at material supply chains, energy expenditure, modes of practice and deep-time perspectives. Take from it what you will. The 19th International Venice Architecture Biennale remains open until Sunday, 23 November 2025.

Every item on this page was chosen by an ELLE Decor editor. We may earn commission on some of the items you choose to buy.When Corey Moriarty moved into a new home in Palm Beach, Florida with his four dogs—Maverick and Bauer (Golden Retrievers) and Blue and Titan (Siberian Huskies)—he found himself wondering what to do with his spare bedroom: “We had an extra room just sitting there, and instead of turning it into an office or a guest room no one ever uses, we thought, ‘Why not make it a space entirely for them?’”What started as a lark quickly turned delightfully over-the-top. Moriarty outfitted the room with custom bunk beds, a Murphy bed, and a wall lined with glass jars filled with the dogs' favorite snacks. There’s a ball pit, a full TV setup for nightly Bluey viewings, and a closet containing all of their outfits. Moriarty has been documenting the room’s evolution on TikTok, where his latest post racked up more than 24 million views.Corey MoriartyCorey Moriarty’s dogs have their own bonafide bedroom, complete with bunk beds, a TV area, and a treat wall. Pet ownership is booming in the U.S. In 2024, 59.8 million households had dogs, and 42.2 million had cats, according to the American Veterinary Medical Association. And people aren’t just adding pets to their families—they’re investing in them. In 2023, Americans spent more than $147 billion on their pets, per the American Pet Products Association, with an increasing chunk of that going toward pet-focused home upgrades. These aren’t mere afterthoughts—they’re carefully crafted extensions of the home that call for thoughtful planning and, often, the expertise of an interior designer. In fact, the dog room has truly become the newest status symbol.View full post on TiktokA dog room's scale can range from a small nook under the stairs to a full-on suite complete with built-in feeding stations, toy storage, grooming areas, and plush four-poster beds. Some include tiled dog showers, temperature-controlled flooring, and built-in cabinetry. Others have more indulgent luxuries—like a TV with DOGTV, a streaming channel with programming designed specifically for canine attention spans. Think: dogs playing in fields, soothing nature sounds, and friendly humans doing relaxing things with pets. It’s ambient TV, but for your hyper-active schnauzer.For Moriarty, the trend taps into a bigger cultural shift. “There’s a continuing movement toward including pets more fully in people’s lives—as real family members,” he says. “Social media has poured gas on the fire. Everyone’s showing off these amazing pet spaces, and it’s inspiring others to level up.” The result is a growing “barkitecture” trend, where design for pets isn’t an afterthought—it’s part of the floor plan from day one. “We’re in the process of finding or building a more permanent home,” he adds, “and a huge part of that decision is based on what the dogs need—a pool, a yard, a room of their own, space to add a dog wash station.”Ken FulkKen Fulk’s three cream golden retrievers found a home in the curry colored library of his Provincetown home, overlooking the harbor in an antique captain’s daybed. Interior designers are seeing a rise in the trend, too. And some are even participating themselves. Ken Fulk, who shares his Provincetown home with four dogs—three English cream golden retrievers (above) and a wirehaired Dachshund named Wiggy—says one room evolved into their dedicated canine space, though it wasn’t premeditated. “Our often-photographed curry colored library became a de facto nursery,” he says. “Soon, no one would come upstairs with us to bed. They preferred their perch overlooking the harbor in an antique captain’s daybed.”Matt McWaltersKen Fulk’s L.A. shop sells wicker dog beds. And for those not ready to sacrifice a spare room? You don’t have to ditch your home office to make your pets feel like part of the design. Fulk says more clients are requesting pet-focused features, like custom dog beds, built-in food stations, and dog-wash areas in stylish mudrooms. At his new shop in Los Angeles, Fulk even offers wicker dog beds upholstered in outdoor fabric, including his own Designer Dogs print for Pierre Frey, as well as an Air Blue and Indigo Stripe. In a world where dogs are living better than their owners, what's next? "I got some very positive feedback on my idea of our doggy hotel called DEN," Fulk laughs. "It was dreamed up as an April Fool’s joke, but there just might be something there."Rachel SilvaAssociate Digital EditorRachel Silva is the associate digital editor at ELLE DECOR, where she covers all things design, architecture, and lifestyle. She also oversees the publication’s feature article coverage, and is, at any moment, knee-deep in an investigation on everything from the best spa gifts to the best faux florals on the internet right now. She has more than 16 years of experience in editorial, working as a photo assignment editor at Time and acting as the president of Women in Media in NYC. She went to Columbia Journalism School, and her work has been nominated for awards from ASME, the Society of Publication Designers, and World Press Photo. 

I don’t know why, but it continues to astonish me just how foolish politicians can be – and how easily persuaded they are by really bad advice from smart but tin-eared advisers. In less than a year, Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves have squandered the gift of the huge majority won at last year’s General Election on one key issue after another: their response to the genocide in Gaza; wantonly cruel cuts in disability benefits; failing to find creative ways of taxing wealth; dealing with the water companies – and, now, on the new Planning and Infrastructure Bill. On 23 May 23, the Wildlife Trusts and the RSPB (with a combined membership of more than 2 million) launched a devastating attack on Labour’s whole approach to streamlining the planning system through the Planning and Infrastructure Bill.Advertisement Part 3 of the bill will make it possible for developers to ignore existing environmental protections by paying money into a so-called ‘Nature Recovery Fund’, which will be used to pay for environmental projects elsewhere. Starmer and Reeves have gone out of their way, time after time, to claim that it’s these environmental safeguards that are responsible for delays and blockages in the planning process, even though they know this is completely untrue. According to the Wildlife Trusts, roughly 3 per cent of proposals for new housing are delayed for environmental reasons. As The Guardian reported: ‘the data from analysis of 17,433 planning appeals in England in 2024 found that newts were relevant in just 140 (0.8%) planning appeals, and bats were relevant in 432 (2.48%).’ ‘They pursue this path even though are no polls to show that this is what matters to Labour voters tempted by Reform’ So what makes Starmer and Reeves both stupid and totally dishonest? By all accounts the rationale of their tin-eared advisers is to demonstrate to ‘Reform-friendly’ Labour voters that the environment is as unsafe in their hands as it would be in Nigel Farage’s. That economic growth is all that matters. That caring for the natural world is a middle-class self-indulgence (‘the well-to-do prioritising the nice-to-have’ over the interests of working people). And that pouring as much concrete as possible is self-evidently the best way of achieving that growth. And they go on pursuing this ideological path even though there are no supporting polls to show that this is what really matters to Labour voters tempted by Reform’s populist bullshit.Advertisement So they lie. They dig in. They break promises left, right and centre, ready to die, apparently, in this self-constructed ditch of developer-led deceit. That’s why every single amendment put forward through the committee examining the bill was summarily dismissed by the loyal but lumpen Labour MPs on the committee. These included an amendment tabled by veteran Labour MP Barry Gardiner requiring all house builders to provide a specially designed brick (costing £35) to help cavity-nesting such as swifts, house martins, sparrows and starlings – a measure that Labour in opposition enthusiastically supported! And there’s huge public support for this one small, cost-effective biodiversity regulation. To get a measure of this government’s subservient obedience to the demands of the volume housebuilders, just listen to the words of housing minister Matthew Pennycook: ‘We are not convinced that legislating to mandate the use of specific wildlife features is the right approach, whether that is done through building regulations or a freestanding legal requirement'. It’s all so demeaning. So unnecessary. And now that the mainstream environment movement, urged on primarily by the Wildlife Trusts, has realised just how high the stakes are with this Planning and Infrastructure Bill, it’s reasonable to assume that there will be a much more serious debate in the House of Lords, bringing down on ministers’ helmeted heads the righteous outrage of the entire movement. As we’ve learnt, in less than one deeply depressing year, this is a government that needs to be kicked harder and harder until they get desperate enough to make the pain go away. P.S. If you want to read a brilliant summary of ‘reasons to be outraged’ (and what to do about it), check out George Monbiot’s take on this. Jonathon Porritt is a campaigner and author and co-founder of Forum for the Future This article first appeared on his blog 2025-06-06 Jonathon Porritt comment and share

Kenmore Pavilion / CARDSave this picture!© Andy MacphersonHouses, Sustainability•Brisbane City, Australia Architects: CARD Area Area of this architecture project Area:  90 m² Photographs Photographs:Andy MacphersonMore SpecsLess Specs Save this picture! Text description provided by the architects. The core philosophy of this project was to do more with less through revitalizing a 1960s workers' cottage through smart, cost-effective design. Rather than replacing, the approach focused on reuse, breathing new life into the existing structure.Save this picture!Save this picture!By embracing Brisbane's favourable climate, the design introduces a weather-protected outdoor space that seamlessly extends the home's footprint. This newly integrated pavilion creates a flexible living zone for cooking, socialising, and relaxing, while framing curated views of the surrounding landscape.Save this picture!Save this picture!Save this picture!The project is situated in the leafy suburb of Kenmore, Brisbane, renowned for its mid-century modernist architecture and lush natural surroundings. Drawing inspiration from Queensland's architectural heritage, the design of the pavilion references the quintessential deck through its overall proportions and timber detailing. The use of natural timber ensures the structure blends effortlessly with the surrounding landscape, reinforcing its identity as an extension of the garden and an inviting, functional outdoor space.Save this picture!The project was part of a bigger renovation which encouraged a direct connection to the garden, shifting the living areas to the north and the bedrooms to the south, clearly delineated by a continuous wall of joinery. This wall contains the kitchen, fireplace, bookshelves, entry nook, and services, with flush, hidden doors that conceal access to the bedrooms and hallway.Save this picture!With these renovations and the new outdoor pavilion, a dark and introverted house has been converted into a functional, light-filled, and social building. A flexible and adaptable space - the pavilion can be used for a range of activities, from outdoor dining, socializing, and cooking in the garden.Save this picture!Sustainability Initiatives Our vision centers around reducing environmental impact by retaining and working with the original post-war structure, which has solid bones. Existing materials were reused and retained where possible, such as the terracotta floor of the pavilion, which was retained from the original house. Other examples include parts of the tiling that were salvaged from leftover projects, and the western red cedar soffits were taken from leftover stock from a nearby development. The garden beds were made from salvaged beams from the original pergola The planter was made from salvaged brick from the paths around the original house The chicken coop was made from reclaimed cedar and old wall framing. The pergola was built from Kwila and Spotted Gum - purposefully chosen for their sustainability credentials. The project included the installation of a new 6.6 kW solar system (20 panels) installed on the roof. Save this picture! Project gallerySee allShow less About this officeCARDOffice••• Published on June 05, 2025Cite: "Kenmore Pavilion / CARD" 05 Jun 2025. ArchDaily. Accessed . <https://www.archdaily.com/1030800/kenmore-pavilion-card&gt ISSN 0719-8884Save世界上最受欢迎的建筑网站现已推出你的母语版本!想浏览ArchDaily中国吗?是否 You've started following your first account!Did you know?You'll now receive updates based on what you follow! Personalize your stream and start following your favorite authors, offices and users.Go to my stream

Once again, Sam Altman wants to show you the future. The CEO of OpenAI is standing on a sparse stage in San Francisco, preparing to reveal his next move to an attentive crowd. “We needed some way for identifying, authenticating humans in the age of AGI,” Altman explains, referring to artificial general intelligence. “We wanted a way to make sure that humans stayed special and central.” The solution Altman came up with is looming behind him. It’s a white sphere about the size of a beach ball, with a camera at its center. The company that makes it, known as Tools for Humanity, calls this mysterious device the Orb. Stare into the heart of the plastic-and-silicon globe and it will map the unique furrows and ciliary zones of your iris. Seconds later, you’ll receive inviolable proof of your humanity: a 12,800-digit binary number, known as an iris code, sent to an app on your phone. At the same time, a packet of cryptocurrency called Worldcoin, worth approximately $42, will be transferred to your digital wallet—your reward for becoming a “verified human.” Altman co-founded Tools for Humanity in 2019 as part of a suite of companies he believed would reshape the world. Once the tech he was developing at OpenAI passed a certain level of intelligence, he reasoned, it would mark the end of one era on the Internet and the beginning of another, in which AI became so advanced, so human-like, that you would no longer be able to tell whether what you read, saw, or heard online came from a real person. When that happened, Altman imagined, we would need a new kind of online infrastructure: a human-verification layer for the Internet, to distinguish real people from the proliferating number of bots and AI “agents.”And so Tools for Humanity set out to build a global “proof-of-humanity” network. It aims to verify 50 million people by the end of 2025; ultimately its goal is to sign up every single human being on the planet. The free crypto serves as both an incentive for users to sign up, and also an entry point into what the company hopes will become the world’s largest financial network, through which it believes “double-digit percentages of the global economy” will eventually flow. Even for Altman, these missions are audacious. “If this really works, it’s like a fundamental piece of infrastructure for the world,” Altman tells TIME in a video interview from the passenger seat of a car a few days before his April 30 keynote address.Internal hardware of the Orb in mid-assembly in March. Davide Monteleone for TIMEThe project’s goal is to solve a problem partly of Altman’s own making. In the near future, he and other tech leaders say, advanced AIs will be imbued with agency: the ability to not just respond to human prompting, but to take actions independently in the world. This will enable the creation of AI coworkers that can drop into your company and begin solving problems; AI tutors that can adapt their teaching style to students’ preferences; even AI doctors that can diagnose routine cases and handle scheduling or logistics. The arrival of these virtual agents, their venture capitalist backers predict, will turbocharge our productivity and unleash an age of material abundance.But AI agents will also have cascading consequences for the human experience online. “As AI systems become harder to distinguish from people, websites may face difficult trade-offs,” says a recent paper by researchers from 25 different universities, nonprofits, and tech companies, including OpenAI. “There is a significant risk that digital institutions will be unprepared for a time when AI-powered agents, including those leveraged by malicious actors, overwhelm other activity online.” On social-media platforms like X and Facebook, bot-driven accounts are amassing billions of views on AI-generated content. In April, the foundation that runs Wikipedia disclosed that AI bots scraping their site were making the encyclopedia too costly to sustainably run. Later the same month, researchers from the University of Zurich found that AI-generated comments on the subreddit /r/ChangeMyView were up to six times more successful than human-written ones at persuading unknowing users to change their minds.  Photograph by Davide Monteleone for TIMEBuy a copy of the Orb issue hereThe arrival of agents won’t only threaten our ability to distinguish between authentic and AI content online. It will also challenge the Internet’s core business model, online advertising, which relies on the assumption that ads are being viewed by humans. “The Internet will change very drastically sometime in the next 12 to 24 months,” says Tools for Humanity CEO Alex Blania. “So we have to succeed, or I’m not sure what else would happen.”For four years, Blania’s team has been testing the Orb’s hardware abroad. Now the U.S. rollout has arrived. Over the next 12 months, 7,500 Orbs will be arriving in dozens of American cities, in locations like gas stations, bodegas, and flagship stores in Los Angeles, Austin, and Miami. The project’s founders and fans hope the Orb’s U.S. debut will kickstart a new phase of growth. The San Francisco keynote was titled: “At Last.” It’s not clear the public appetite matches the exultant branding. Tools for Humanity has “verified” just 12 million humans since mid 2023, a pace Blania concedes is well behind schedule. Few online platforms currently support the so-called “World ID” that the Orb bestows upon its visitors, leaving little to entice users to give up their biometrics beyond the lure of free crypto. Even Altman isn’t sure whether the whole thing can work. “I can see [how] this becomes a fairly mainstream thing in a few years,” he says. “Or I can see that it’s still only used by a small subset of people who think about the world in a certain way.” Blania (left) and Altman debut the Orb at World’s U.S. launch in San Francisco on April 30, 2025. Jason Henry—The New York Times/ReduxYet as the Internet becomes overrun with AI, the creators of this strange new piece of hardware are betting that everybody in the world will soon want—or need—to visit an Orb. The biometric code it creates, they predict, will become a new type of digital passport, without which you might be denied passage to the Internet of the future, from dating apps to government services. In a best-case scenario, World ID could be a privacy-preserving way to fortify the Internet against an AI-driven deluge of fake or deceptive content. It could also enable the distribution of universal basic income (UBI)—a policy that Altman has previously touted—as AI automation transforms the global economy. To examine what this new technology might mean, I reported from three continents, interviewed 10 Tools for Humanity executives and investors, reviewed hundreds of pages of company documents, and “verified” my own humanity. The Internet will inevitably need some kind of proof-of-humanity system in the near future, says Divya Siddarth, founder of the nonprofit Collective Intelligence Project. The real question, she argues, is whether such a system will be centralized—“a big security nightmare that enables a lot of surveillance”—or privacy-preserving, as the Orb claims to be. Questions remain about Tools for Humanity’s corporate structure, its yoking to an unstable cryptocurrency, and what power it would concentrate in the hands of its owners if successful. Yet it’s also one of the only attempts to solve what many see as an increasingly urgent problem. “There are some issues with it,” Siddarth says of World ID. “But you can’t preserve the Internet in amber. Something in this direction is necessary.”In March, I met Blania at Tools for Humanity’s San Francisco headquarters, where a large screen displays the number of weekly “Orb verifications” by country. A few days earlier, the CEO had attended a $1 million-per-head dinner at Mar-a-Lago with President Donald Trump, whom he credits with clearing the way for the company’s U.S. launch by relaxing crypto regulations. “Given Sam is a very high profile target,” Blania says, “we just decided that we would let other companies fight that fight, and enter the U.S. once the air is clear.” As a kid growing up in Germany, Blania was a little different than his peers. “Other kids were, like, drinking a lot, or doing a lot of parties, and I was just building a lot of things that could potentially blow up,” he recalls. At the California Institute of Technology, where he was pursuing research for a masters degree, he spent many evenings reading the blogs of startup gurus like Paul Graham and Altman. Then, in 2019, Blania received an email from Max Novendstern, an entrepreneur who had been kicking around a concept with Altman to build a global cryptocurrency network. They were looking for technical minds to help with the project. Over cappuccinos, Altman told Blania he was certain about three things. First, smarter-than-human AI was not only possible, but inevitable—and it would soon mean you could no longer assume that anything you read, saw, or heard on the Internet was human-created. Second, cryptocurrency and other decentralized technologies would be a massive force for change in the world. And third, scale was essential to any crypto network’s value. The Orb is tested on a calibration rig, surrounded by checkerboard targets to ensure precision in iris detection. Davide Monteleone for TIMEThe goal of Worldcoin, as the project was initially called, was to combine those three insights. Altman took a lesson from PayPal, the company co-founded by his mentor Peter Thiel. Of its initial funding, PayPal spent less than $10 million actually building its app—but pumped an additional $70 million or so into a referral program, whereby new users and the person who invited them would each receive $10 in credit. The referral program helped make PayPal a leading payment platform. Altman thought a version of that strategy would propel Worldcoin to similar heights. He wanted to create a new cryptocurrency and give it to users as a reward for signing up. The more people who joined the system, the higher the token’s value would theoretically rise. Since 2019, the project has raised $244 million from investors like Coinbase and the venture capital firm Andreessen Horowitz. That money paid for the $50 million cost of designing the Orb, plus maintaining the software it runs on. The total market value of all Worldcoins in existence, however, is far higher—around $12 billion. That number is a bit misleading: most of those coins are not in circulation and Worldcoin’s price has fluctuated wildly. Still, it allows the company to reward users for signing up at no cost to itself. The main lure for investors is the crypto upside. Some 75% of all Worldcoins are set aside for humans to claim when they sign up, or as referral bonuses. The remaining 25% are split between Tools for Humanity’s backers and staff, including Blania and Altman. “I’m really excited to make a lot of money,” ” Blania says.From the beginning, Altman was thinking about the consequences of the AI revolution he intended to unleash. (On May 21, he announced plans to team up with famed former Apple designer Jony Ive on a new AI personal device.) A future in which advanced AI could perform most tasks more effectively than humans would bring a wave of unemployment and economic dislocation, he reasoned. Some kind of wealth redistribution might be necessary. In 2016, he partially funded a study of basic income, which gave $1,000 per-month handouts to low-income individuals in Illinois and Texas. But there was no single financial system that would allow money to be sent to everybody in the world. Nor was there a way to stop an individual human from claiming their share twice—or to identify a sophisticated AI pretending to be human and pocketing some cash of its own. In 2023, Tools for Humanity raised the possibility of using the network to redistribute the profits of AI labs that were able to automate human labor. “As AI advances,” it said, “fairly distributing access and some of the created value through UBI will play an increasingly vital role in counteracting the concentration of economic power.”Blania was taken by the pitch, and agreed to join the project as a co-founder. “Most people told us we were very stupid or crazy or insane, including Silicon Valley investors,” Blania says. At least until ChatGPT came out in 2022, transforming OpenAI into one of the world’s most famous tech companies and kickstarting a market bull-run. “Things suddenly started to make more and more sense to the external world,” Blania says of the vision to develop a global “proof-of-humanity” network. “You have to imagine a world in which you will have very smart and competent systems somehow flying through the Internet with different goals and ideas of what they want to do, and us having no idea anymore what we’re dealing with.”After our interview, Blania’s head of communications ushers me over to a circular wooden structure where eight Orbs face one another. The scene feels like a cross between an Apple Store and a ceremonial altar. “Do you want to get verified?” she asks. Putting aside my reservations for the purposes of research, I download the World App and follow its prompts. I flash a QR code at the Orb, then gaze into it. A minute or so later, my phone buzzes with confirmation: I’ve been issued my own personal World ID and some Worldcoin.The first thing the Orb does is check if you’re human, using a neural network that takes input from various sensors, including an infrared camera and a thermometer. Davide Monteleone for TIMEWhile I stared into the Orb, several complex procedures had taken place at once. A neural network took inputs from multiple sensors—an infrared camera, a thermometer—to confirm I was a living human. Simultaneously, a telephoto lens zoomed in on my iris, capturing the physical traits within that distinguish me from every other human on Earth. It then converted that image into an iris code: a numerical abstraction of my unique biometric data. Then the Orb checked to see if my iris code matched any it had seen before, using a technique allowing encrypted data to be compared without revealing the underlying information. Before the Orb deleted my data, it turned my iris code into several derivative codes—none of which on its own can be linked back to the original—encrypted them, deleted the only copies of the decryption keys, and sent each one to a different secure server, so that future users’ iris codes can be checked for uniqueness against mine. If I were to use my World ID to access a website, that site would learn nothing about me except that I’m human. The Orb is open-source, so outside experts can examine its code and verify the company’s privacy claims. “I did a colonoscopy on this company and these technologies before I agreed to join,” says Trevor Traina, a Trump donor and former U.S. ambassador to Austria who now serves as Tools for Humanity’s chief business officer. “It is the most privacy-preserving technology on the planet.”Only weeks later, when researching what would happen if I wanted to delete my data, do I discover that Tools for Humanity’s privacy claims rest on what feels like a sleight of hand. The company argues that in modifying your iris code, it has “effectively anonymized” your biometric data. If you ask Tools for Humanity to delete your iris codes, they will delete the one stored on your phone, but not the derivatives. Those, they argue, are no longer your personal data at all. But if I were to return to an Orb after deleting my data, it would still recognize those codes as uniquely mine. Once you look into the Orb, a piece of your identity remains in the system forever. If users could truly delete that data, the premise of one ID per human would collapse, Tools for Humanity’s chief privacy officer Damien Kieran tells me when I call seeking an explanation. People could delete and sign up for new World IDs after being suspended from a platform. Or claim their Worldcoin tokens, sell them, delete their data, and cash in again. This argument fell flat with European Union regulators in Germany, who recently declared that the Orb posed “fundamental data protection issues” and ordered the company to allow European users to fully delete even their anonymized data. (Tools for Humanity has appealed; the regulator is now reassessing the decision.) “Just like any other technology service, users cannot delete data that is not personal data,” Kieran said in a statement. “If a person could delete anonymized data that can’t be linked to them by World or any third party, it would allow bad actors to circumvent the security and safety that World ID is working to bring to every human.”On a balmy afternoon this spring, I climb a flight of stairs up to a room above a restaurant in an outer suburb of Seoul. Five elderly South Koreans tap on their phones as they wait to be “verified” by the two Orbs in the center of the room. “We don’t really know how to distinguish between AI and humans anymore,” an attendant in a company t-shirt explains in Korean, gesturing toward the spheres. “We need a way to verify that we’re human and not AI. So how do we do that? Well, humans have irises, but AI doesn’t.”The attendant ushers an elderly woman over to an Orb. It bleeps. “Open your eyes,” a disembodied voice says in English. The woman stares into the camera. Seconds later, she checks her phone and sees that a packet of Worldcoin worth 75,000 Korean won (about $54) has landed in her digital wallet. Congratulations, the app tells her. You are now a verified human.A visitor views the Orbs in Seoul on April 14, 2025. Taemin Ha for TIMETools for Humanity aims to “verify” 1 million Koreans over the next year. Taemin Ha for TIMEA couple dozen Orbs have been available in South Korea since 2023, verifying roughly 55,000 people. Now Tools for Humanity is redoubling its efforts there. At an event in a traditional wooden hanok house in central Seoul, an executive announces that 250 Orbs will soon be dispersed around the country—with the aim of verifying 1 million Koreans in the next 12 months. South Korea has high levels of smartphone usage, crypto and AI adoption, and Internet access, while average wages are modest enough for the free Worldcoin on offer to still be an enticing draw—all of which makes it fertile testing ground for the company’s ambitious global expansion. Yet things seem off to a slow start. In a retail space I visited in central Seoul, Tools for Humanity had constructed a wooden structure with eight Orbs facing each other. Locals and tourists wander past looking bemused; few volunteer themselves up. Most who do tell me they are crypto enthusiasts who came intentionally, driven more by the spirit of early adoption than the free coins. The next day, I visit a coffee shop in central Seoul where a chrome Orb sits unassumingly in one corner. Wu Ruijun, a 20-year-old student from China, strikes up a conversation with the barista, who doubles as the Orb’s operator. Wu was invited here by a friend who said both could claim free cryptocurrency if he signed up. The barista speeds him through the process. Wu accepts the privacy disclosure without reading it, and widens his eyes for the Orb. Soon he’s verified. “I wasn’t told anything about the privacy policy,” he says on his way out. “I just came for the money.”As Altman’s car winds through San Francisco, I ask about the vision he laid out in 2019: that AI would make it harder for us to trust each other online. To my surprise, he rejects the framing. “I’m much more [about] like: what is the good we can create, rather than the bad we can stop?” he says. “It’s not like, ‘Oh, we’ve got to avoid the bot overrun’ or whatever. It’s just that we can do a lot of special things for humans.” It’s an answer that may reflect how his role has changed over the years. Altman is now the chief public cheerleader of a $300 billion company that’s touting the transformative utility of AI agents. The rise of agents, he and others say, will be a boon for our quality of life—like having an assistant on hand who can answer your most pressing questions, carry out mundane tasks, and help you develop new skills. It’s an optimistic vision that may well pan out. But it doesn’t quite fit with the prophecies of AI-enabled infopocalypse that Tools for Humanity was founded upon.Altman waves away a question about the influence he and other investors stand to gain if their vision is realized. Most holders, he assumes, will have already started selling their tokens—too early, he adds. “What I think would be bad is if an early crew had a lot of control over the protocol,” he says, “and that’s where I think the commitment to decentralization is so cool.” Altman is referring to the World Protocol, the underlying technology upon which the Orb, Worldcoin, and World ID all rely. Tools for Humanity is developing it, but has committed to giving control to its users over time—a process they say will prevent power from being concentrated in the hands of a few executives or investors. Tools for Humanity would remain a for-profit company, and could levy fees on platforms that use World ID, but other companies would be able to compete for customers by building alternative apps—or even alternative Orbs. The plan draws on ideas that animated the crypto ecosystem in the late 2010s and early 2020s, when evangelists for emerging blockchain technologies argued that the centralization of power—especially in large so-called “Web 2.0” tech companies—was responsible for many of the problems plaguing the modern Internet. Just as decentralized cryptocurrencies could reform a financial system controlled by economic elites, so too would it be possible to create decentralized organizations, run by their members instead of CEOs. How such a system might work in practice remains unclear. “Building a community-based governance system,” Tools for Humanity says in a 2023 white paper, “represents perhaps the most formidable challenge of the entire project.”Altman has a pattern of making idealistic promises that shift over time. He founded OpenAI as a nonprofit in 2015, with a mission to develop AGI safely and for the benefit of all humanity. To raise money, OpenAI restructured itself as a for-profit company in 2019, but with overall control still in the hands of its nonprofit board. Last year, Altman proposed yet another restructure—one which would dilute the board’s control and allow more profits to flow to shareholders. Why, I ask, should the public trust Tools for Humanity’s commitment to freely surrender influence and power? “I think you will just see the continued decentralization via the protocol,” he says. “The value here is going to live in the network, and the network will be owned and governed by a lot of people.” Altman talks less about universal basic income these days. He recently mused about an alternative, which he called “universal basic compute.” Instead of AI companies redistributing their profits, he seemed to suggest, they could instead give everyone in the world fair access to super-powerful AI. Blania tells me he recently “made the decision to stop talking” about UBI at Tools for Humanity. “UBI is one potential answer,” he says. “Just giving [people] access to the latest [AI] models and having them learn faster and better is another.” Says Altman: “I still don’t know what the right answer is. I believe we should do a better job of distribution of resources than we currently do.” When I probe the question of why people should trust him, Altman gets irritated. “I understand that you hate AI, and that’s fine,” he says. “If you want to frame it as the downside of AI is that there’s going to be a proliferation of very convincing AI systems that are pretending to be human, and we need ways to know what is really human-authorized versus not, then yeah, I think you can call that a downside of AI. It’s not how I would naturally frame it.” The phrase human-authorized hints at a tension between World ID and OpenAI’s plans for AI agents. An Internet where a World ID is required to access most services might impede the usefulness of the agents that OpenAI and others are developing. So Tools for Humanity is building a system that would allow users to delegate their World ID to an agent, allowing the bot to take actions online on their behalf, according to Tiago Sada, the company’s chief product officer. “We’ve built everything in a way that can be very easily delegatable to an agent,” Sada says. It’s a measure that would allow humans to be held accountable for the actions of their AIs. But it suggests that Tools for Humanity’s mission may be shifting beyond simply proving humanity, and toward becoming the infrastructure that enables AI agents to proliferate with human authorization. World ID doesn’t tell you whether a piece of content is AI-generated or human-generated; all it tells you is whether the account that posted it is a human or a bot. Even in a world where everybody had a World ID, our online spaces might still be filled with AI-generated text, images, and videos.As I say goodbye to Altman, I’m left feeling conflicted about his project. If the Internet is going to be transformed by AI agents, then some kind of proof-of-humanity system will almost certainly be necessary. Yet if the Orb becomes a piece of Internet infrastructure, it could give Altman—a beneficiary of the proliferation of AI content—significant influence over a leading defense mechanism against it. People might have no choice but to participate in the network in order to access social media or online services.I thought of an encounter I witnessed in Seoul. In the room above the restaurant, Cho Jeong-yeon, 75, watched her friend get verified by an Orb. Cho had been invited to do the same, but demurred. The reward wasn’t enough for her to surrender a part of her identity. “Your iris is uniquely yours, and we don’t really know how it might be used,” she says. “Seeing the machine made me think: are we becoming machines instead of humans now? Everything is changing, and we don’t know how it’ll all turn out.”—With reporting by Stephen Kim/Seoul. This story was supported by Tarbell Grants.Correction, May 30The original version of this story misstated the market capitalization of Worldcoin if all coins were in circulation. It is $12 billion, not $1.2 billion.

“Pillars” (2024), oil on linen, 84 x 96 inches. All images courtesy of Mario Moore and Library Street Collective, shared with permission Mario Moore’s Oil Paintings Bridge Past and Present to Spotlight Black Resilience and Style June 4, 2025 Kate Mothes In large-scale works in oil, Detroit-based artist Mario Moore taps into the legacy of European painting traditions to create bold portraits exploring the nature of veneration, self-determination, and the continuum of history. Moore’s work is currently on view in Beneath Our Feet at Library Street Collective alongside fellow Detroiter LaKela Brown. His new pieces nod to the Dutch and Flemish tradition of devotional painting, particularly religious garland paintings. Within elegant arrangements of flowers and foliage, he highlights Black figures relaxing or tending to gardens. “The Patron Saint of Urban Farming” (2025), oil on linen, 72 x 48 inches In “Watermelon Man,” a stone altar is surrounded by hibiscus and watermelons, both symbols of resilience. Historically, the latter represented self-sufficiency and freedom for Southern African Americans following Emancipation, but whites flipped the narrative into a stereotypical exemplar of poverty. Moore reclaims the fruit in the spirit of refined 17th-century still-lifes. The artist has long drawn on the culture and legacies of both Detroit and the U.S. more broadly through the lens of the Black diaspora. Earlier works like “Pillars” position Black figures in elegant dress within the vast wildernesses of the American frontier, bridging the past to explore how racial divisions continue to shape the present. An exhibition last summer at Grand Rapids Art Museum titled Revolutionary Times took his series A New Republic as a starting point, revisiting the history of Black Union soldiers during the Civil War. Moore learned that one of his ancestors, who had been enslaved as a child, later enlisted in the Union Army, spurring the artist’s exploration of the seminal mid-19th-century period of conflict and Western colonization. He positions present-day figures in contemporary dress within historical contexts, interrogating political and racial segregations. “Watermelon Man” (2025), oil on linen, 51 1/2 x 42 inches Through tropes of European painting like a self-portrait of the artist in mirrored reflections and poses in three-quarter profile, Moore renders individuals whose direct, confident gazes and elegant dress invoke Detroit style and pride. For Beneath Our Feet, Brown and Moore collaborated on a five-foot-wide bas-relief bronze coin. Each artist completed one side, with Mario’s contribution taking the form of a portrait of Brown. “Her profile echoes the conventional format of traditional American coinage, confronting the historic absence of Black women in national symbolism and positions of authority,” the gallery says. On the opposite side, Brown depicts a bouquet of collard greens symbolic of nourishment and community. For this exhibition, Brown and Moore “reflect on the wealth held in the earth beneath us—and the enduring question of who holds the rights to till, own, and shape that land,” says an exhibition statement. Detroit is home to ambitious urban gardening initiatives that aim for local food sovereignty, mirroring the resourcefulness of Black farmers throughout history. The artists “consider land not just as property but as history, inheritance, and possibility,” the gallery says. Beneath Our Feet continues through July 30 in Detroit. See more on Moore’s website and Instagram. “International Detroit Playa: Sheefy” (2022), oil on linen, 108 x 96 inches “These Are Not Yams But They Are Damn Good” (2025), oil on linen, 51 1/2 x 42 inches “Creation of a Revolutionary (Helen Moore)” (2023), oil on linen, 76 x 52 inches “Black” (2023), oil on linen, 48 x 48 inches “Garland of Resilience” (2025), oil on linen, 51 1/2 x 42 inches “Birth of Cool” (2023), oil on linen, 72 x 48 inches Installation view of ‘LaKela Brown and Mario Moore: Beneath Our Feet’ at Library Street Collective, Detroit Previous articleNext article

Researchers from the National University of Singapore (NUS) have developed a 3D printed, self-powered mechanoluminescent (ML) photonic skin designed for communication and safety monitoring in underwater environments. The stretchable device emits light in response to mechanical deformation, requires no external power source, and remains functional under conditions such as high salinity and extreme temperatures. The findings were published in Advanced Materials by Xiaolu Sun, Shaohua Ling, Zhihang Qin, Jinrun Zhou, Quangang Shi, Zhuangjian Liu, and Yu Jun Tan. The research was conducted at NUS and Singapore’s Agency for Science, Technology and Research (A*STAR). Schematic of the 3D printed mechanoluminescent photonic skin showing fabrication steps and light emission under deformation. Image via Sun et al., Advanced Materials. 3D printing stretchable light-emitting skins with auxetic geometry The photonic skin was produced using a 3D printing method called direct-ink-writing (DIW), which involves extruding a specially formulated ink through a fine nozzle to build up complex structures layer by layer. In this case, the ink was made by mixing tiny particles of zinc sulfide doped with copper (ZnS:Cu), a material that glows when stretched, with a flexible silicone rubber. These particles serve as the active ingredient that lights up when the material is deformed, while the silicone acts as a soft, stretchable support structure. To make the device more adaptable to movement and curved surfaces, like human skin or underwater equipment, the researchers printed it using auxetic designs. Auxetic structures have a rare mechanical property known as a negative Poisson’s ratio. Unlike most materials, which become thinner when stretched, auxetic designs expand laterally under tension. This makes them ideal for conforming to curved or irregular surfaces, such as joints, flexible robots, or underwater gear, without wrinkling or detaching. Encapsulating the printed skin in a clear silicone layer further improves performance by distributing mechanical stress evenly. This prevents localized tearing and ensures that the light emission remains bright and uniform, even after 10,000 cycles of stretching and relaxing. In previous stretchable light-emitting devices, uneven stress often led to dimming, flickering, or early material failure. Mechanical and optical performance of encapsulated photonic skin across 10,000 stretch cycles. Image via Sun et al., Advanced Materials. Underwater signaling, robotics, and gas leak detection The team demonstrated multiple applications for the photonic skin. When integrated into wearable gloves, the skin enabled light-based Morse code communication through simple finger gestures. Bending one or more fingers activated the mechanoluminescence, emitting visible flashes that corresponded to messages such as “UP,” “OK,” or “SOS.” The system remained fully functional when submerged in cold water (~7°C), simulating deep-sea conditions. In a separate test, the skin was applied to a gas tank mock-up to monitor for leaks. A pinhole defect was covered with the printed skin and sealed using stretchable tape. When pressurized air escaped through the leak, the localized mechanical force caused a bright cyan glow at the exact leak site, offering a passive, electronics-free alternative to conventional gas sensors. To test performance on soft and mobile platforms, the researchers also mounted the photonic skin onto a robotic fish. As the robot swam through water tanks at different temperatures (24°C, 50°C, and 7°C), the skin continued to light up reliably, demonstrating its resilience and utility for marine robotics. Comparison of printed photonic skin structures with different geometries and their conformability to complex surfaces. Image via Sun et al., Advanced Materials. Toward electronics-free underwater communication While LEDs and optical fibers are widely used in underwater lighting systems, their dependence on rigid form factors and external power makes them unsuitable for dynamic, flexible applications. In contrast, the stretchable ML photonic skin developed by NUS researchers provides a self-powered, adaptable alternative for diver signaling, robotic inspection, and leak detection, potentially transforming the toolkit for underwater communication and safety systems. Future directions include enhanced sensory integration and robotic applications, as the team continues exploring robust photonic systems for extreme environments. Photonic skin integrated into gloves for Morse code signaling and applied to robotic fish and gas tanks for underwater safety monitoring. Image via Sun et al., Advanced Materials. The rise of 3D printed multifunctional materials The development of the photonic skin reflects a broader trend in additive manufacturing toward multifunctional materials, structures that serve more than a structural role. Researchers are increasingly using multimaterial 3D printing to embed sensing, actuation, and signaling functions directly into devices. For example, recent work by SUSTech and City University of Hong Kong on thick-panel origami structures showed how multimaterial printing can enable large, foldable systems with high strength and motion control. These and other advances, including conductive FDM processes and Lithoz’s multimaterial ceramic tools, mark a shift toward printing entire systems. The NUS photonic skin fits squarely within this movement, combining mechanical adaptability, environmental durability, and real-time optical output into a single printable form. Read the full article in Advanced Materials Subscribe to the 3D Printing Industry newsletter to keep up with the latest 3D printing news. You can also follow us onLinkedIn and subscribe to the 3D Printing Industry YouTube channel to access more exclusive content. At 3DPI, our mission is to deliver high-quality journalism, technical insight, and industry intelligence to professionals across the AM ecosystem.Help us shape the future of 3D printing industry news with our2025 reader survey. Featured image shows a schematic of the 3D printed mechanoluminescent photonic skin showing fabrication steps and light emission under deformation. Image via Sun et al., Advanced Materials.