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

Level 5's role-playing sim Fantasy Life i: The Girl Who Steals Time has hit 500,000 sales in just three days. Addressing the thousands of players who had bought the game on PC, PS5, Switch, Xbox Series X/S, and last-gen systems, the developer thanked players by releasing an all-new illustration marking the milestone. Fantasy Life i - features trailer.Watch on YouTube "Fantasy Life i has officially surpassed 500,000 copies sold worldwide!" exclaimed developer Level 5. "To show our gratitude, we're releasing a brand-new illustration! "This is just the beginning!" the studio added. "We hope you continue enjoying your cozy, one-of-a-kind slow Life in Reveria to the fullest!" To see this content please enable targeting cookies. The team also announced Update the World!, a free DLC pack that adds news recipes, as well as "content designed to help your high-rarity weapons truly shine, as you aim even higher in your adventure". Expect more details, including the release window, "soon". As Matt summarised for us recently, The Girl Who Steals Time is a sequel to Level 5's Fantasy Life - a sort of job-focussed mash-mash of life sim and RPG - which enjoyed modest critical and commercial success when it launched for Nintendo DS back in 2012. Eurogamer's celebrated its "abundance of features" in our 6/10 review at the time, but noted the result was often "less than the sum of its parts". Fantasy Life i: The Girl Who Steals Time is available now on Steam, Xbox Series X/S, PlayStation 5, and Switch, with a Switch 2 version coming later this year.

At DICE and GDC this year I heard talk of a trend in game development that sent a chill down my spine: "deprofessionalization." As A16z marketing partner Ryan K. Rigney defines it, deprofessionalization is a phenomenon driven by the overperformance of older titles (particularly free-to-play live service games), large studios struggling to drive sales, and the outsized success of some solo developers and small teams.These three forces, he argues, will combine to "drive career professionals from the traditional, professionalized side of the games industry.""Some of these people will decide to go indie," he continues. "Others will leave gaming altogether. And in between there’s a vast spectrum of irregular working arrangements available."Is this trend real? It sure felt so at PAX East 2025. It's no secret that the COVID-19 pandemic led to many game companies decamping from expo floors, retreating to either all-online promotion or in-person community meetups structured around intermittent panels. Gone are the days where a chunk of the development team can get one-on-one facetime with players—shifts in supply and demand have simply moved where marketing takes place.But something else lurked under the surface. Some notable studios like Behaviour Interactive and Funcom had classic booths up on the show floor. Devolver Digital had maybe the tallest booth on display—but it was only using it to showcase three games: Mycopunk, Monster Train 2, and Botsu. The bulk of the remaining space was taken up by small publishers and game studios.Related:Wandering through these booths, I found a mix of truly excellent and inspiring games. But also found myself bubbling with frustration. Few of the developers on display were working on teams larger than three people. They talked about publishers wanting ever-more-expensive offerings as part of their pitch deck. Short-term contractors seemed to be the best way to plug gaps. Why did it feel like so few proper businesses were fighting to get their games in front of players at PAX?Speaking with Rigney and other developers, I sensed that "deprofessionalization" isn't just a catchy phrase to describe demand-side economics in game industry hiring. It's a frustrating reality that may undervalue games from big and small teams alike.Deprofessionalization is built on the back of devaluing laborRigney offered some extra nuance on his "deprofessionalization" theory in an email exchange we had before PAX. He predicted that marketing roles at studios would be "the first" on the chopping block, followed by "roles that seem replaceable to management (even if they're not)."Related:"The winners will be the creative renegades. I'm talking about the people making work that would have never gotten greenlit at one of these bigger publishers in the first place. Some of these creatives will start their own studio, or dabble in side projects...This is the only creative industry on the planet where one person can make $100 million making something by themselves."That held up in my survey of the games boothing at PAX. The developers of Mycopunk and Cat Secretary had some of the larger teams on the floor of about 5-6 people. Indie publisher Playism was showing off a number of excellent-looking games like Mind Diver and Break Arts III. Executive producer Shunji Mizutani told me the average team size the company is looking to back is around 1-3 developers (though he said it's not a hard and fast rule).My favorite game I saw, We Harvest Shadows is being developed by The First Tree solo developer David Wehle. Wehle explained that he's hiring a contract coder to help with the dense system design fueling the "farming" part of his "horror farming simulator." The story was the same everywhere I went. Solo devs, two-person teams, and publishers fishing for low-budget indie hits were the talk of the show.Related:I want to be clear here—no one I spoke with at PAX East should feel "obligated" to give anyone a job. They're small teams making the most of limited resources, and it's the acceleration in game development technology that's made it possible. What feels wrong is how few people seem to benefit from this status quo.Image via ReedPop.To go back to Rigney for a moment, his key example of a post-deprofessionalization game developer is veteran developer Aaron Rutledge, a former lead designer on League of Legends, Call of Duty: Black Ops 4, and Apex Legends. After leaving Respawn Entertainment in 2024 he founded a consultancy firm Area Denial, acting as a "gun for hire" for studios.Rutledge deserves his success, and the life of a traveling creative called on by other studios sounds romantic. But as a foundation for game development, it's a framework that celebrates the few over the many. It narrows which roles are considered "essential" for making great games (often designers or programmers) and treats other positions as somehow less essential. You could see someone like Wehle hiring someone like Rutledge to bring some of that triple-A experience to a small game.But that feels like the polar ends of who can benefit in the deprofessionalized world—developers with the stability to swing big for big-shot ideas, and programmers or designers with deep career experience that can be called in like a group of noble mercenaries. People in between will be left out.Who gets left behind in a world mainly filled with small teams?My PAX trip validated my fear that three professions are especially vulnerable in this deprofessionalized world: artists, writers, and those working in game audio or music. These roles seemed vulnerable because on these small teams, they were the roles developers mentioned doing in some kind of shared or joint fashion.All three risk compartmentalization as "asset creators," their work treated as products you can purchase off the store shelf.Every artist in games knows how hard it is to make a living doing what you love. In-house artist positions have faded away as companies look overseas to produce as many assets as humanly possible at the lowest living wage. Enthusiasm for AI-generated assets (that look like dogshit) are nudging this trend along. In the "gun for hire" mindset, working artists aren't worth anything to game development because they're producing goods to be used, not participants in the process. Art directors are in a slightly more stable position, but only by virtue of knowing "what looks good" and telling someone else what they want to do.As someone who recently shipped his second game as a writer, the cuts to game narrative teams hit close to home. The GDC 2025 State of the Industry survey reported that of the 11 percent of developers laid off in the last year, 19 percent of them worked in game narrative, the highest of any responding demographic. Two diverging trends are hurting this field: the growth of successful games that don't feature much narrative (either focusing on deep game mechanics or story-lite multiplayer) and the spread of story-driven games authored by the creative director and maybe one or two collaborators create conditions that lower the number of available jobs.Image via ReedPop.Game writers have long described frustration with how they're treated by the industry, often brought in later in the process and sometimes treated as if they lie in opposition to the rest of the development team. Some studios leaned on the job title of "narrative designer" for professionals who write and implement narrative events, but that still speaks to a mistrust of the profession, that producing words isn't enough to bring value to a team.Finally, game audio and music professionals both produce work that can be bundled into licensable libraries, with implementation left to designers on a team. Sometimes this work is essential, the number of sounds a game needs can't be produced by an individual human. And composers don't always want to be tied to one studio—working with multiple teams frees them to explore creative projects and keep working when they aren't necessarily needed in a day-to-day game development environment.But again, treating them this way puts them on the rim of the game development wheel, implying their labor could be deprioritized by true talent that deserves to reap the benefits of game design.A decentralized creative community needs to benefit creativesRigney explained to me that the game industry has one ace up its sleeve that other creative fields don't: its "indie" market is a commercially viable market. "People are paying for these games!," he exclaimed. "This is not happening for indie filmmakers. This isn't happening for books. What's happening for indie games and small studios won't replace the jobs lost at the major publishers, but it will create opportunity for the most creative and most determined people."But don't rush off to start your indie dreams—it's still as true as it was for years that most indie games do not succeed. And those that don't succeed can still be financial fodder for the shovel merchants of the worlds—your technology companies, your payment processors, your game platforms, your investors, etc. Plenty of companies are standing ready to profit on the devs gunning to be the next Schedule I.Is there a way deprofessionalization can benefit the developers left behind? Rigney raised one fair point: part of the reason some indies are running circles around large companies is that those companies can mismanage creatives so badly they go for years without shipping a game. If someone smart could crack that problem—improve management at large organizations and make sure games make it out the door—that could be a way to balance the trend."Right now none of the solutions are well equipped to solve all the problems. I work in venture capital, which isn't great for funding individual games, but can work well when funding teams that are pursuing large scale growth via some new distribution or technological edge."Indeed, PAX East showed that we need creative solutions. One shouldn't need to be a social media wunderkind, years of hard-to-earn triple-A experience, or be a jack-of-all-trades to have a career in game development. That path does bring us some wildly inventive games—but leaves us with a community of developers hustling on gig work to keep their dream alive.Update 5/16: This piece has been updated to clarify Rigney's job title at A16z.

Looking back, there are a few mistakes I made while traveling internationally with my grandma. Emily Schlorf 2025-05-13T14:12:01Z Save Saved Read in app This story is available exclusively to Business Insider subscribers. Become an Insider and start reading now. Have an account? In summer 2024, I traveled with my grandma, mom, and sister to Montreal. I wish I'd thought more about my grandma's physical needs when planning the itinerary. It would've been nice to have more downtime in our schedule, too. Despite living 1,800 miles apart, my 81-year-old grandma and I have always been close. We share a love for "Downton Abbey," cross-stitch, and strong coffee, and I couldn't imagine spending weeks in the summer anywhere but her sunny kitchen table in central Minnesota.Of course, I'd be naive to assume my time with her is unlimited. That's one reason my grandma, mom, sister, and I decided to embark on a trip to Montreal together last summer.Although I'm grateful we were able to take this trip, it could have gone a lot smoother had I known these three things about traveling with an older relative. The itinerary should have reflected everyone's physical needs, not just my own I should've considered how long it would take my grandma to get to excursions like our afternoon tea. Emily Schlorf I'm the most frequent traveler in my family, so I took on all the planning myself and approached the task the same way I do for solo travel: leaving no stone unturned.I thought my grandma would be well-prepared for the long days, given that she walks 3 miles a day and eats a far more balanced diet than I do.What I failed to consider, though, was how difficult it would be for her to walk on the uneven cobblestone streets. On our first day in the city, we nearly missed an afternoon tea reservation since I didn't factor in the slower pace we'd have to take to accommodate my grandma's careful steps.I also didn't realize just how exhausting a full-day Three Pines tour would be. Although fantastic — with stops at a monastery, local museum, and five-star resort for lunch — our visit to the villages that inspired the fictional location of my grandma's favorite mystery series was nine hours long. My family and I went on a nine-hour tour of Three Pines. Emily Schlorf As the day progressed, we took turns snoozing in the back seat of our tour guide's van. Upon arriving back at the bed and breakfast, my grandma exclaimed how long of a day it was; and I didn't disagree.Similarly, I didn't consider my grandma's physical limitations when choosing restaurants. Although they weren't lacking in ambiance — picture patios swallowed in bougainvillea and cool, brutalist interiors overlooking Lake Saint Louis — the dim lighting and small font sizes made it challenging for her to read the menu.My mom, sister, and I mitigated my grandma's vision issues by taking turns reading the menu aloud, line by line, but that got old fast.In retrospect, I wish I'd shown up equipped with solutions, such as finding the menu online so she could zoom in on my phone or reminding her to bring her readers, to improve everyone's dining experience. A long trip means extended time away from routinesEveryone gets to a point on vacation when they're ready to return home, but I would argue that the feeling is stronger for older adults like my grandma, who travel once or twice a year and may be used to a strict daily routine.Although my grandma never expressed this feeling to me outright, I noticed as the days went on, she became less game for her granddaughters' plans.For example, on our last evening, my sister and I wanted to check out the shops lining Saint-Laurent Boulevard, but my grandma preferred to have takeout in the hotel.We compromised, and my sister and I walked to the boulevard to pick up dinner, but we ditched our shopping plan since we felt bad keeping my mom and grandma waiting.I wish we'd had more downtime together One of my favorite memories from the trip was when we spontaneously visited a speakeasy. Emily Schlorf Instead of jam-packing every day with new experiences, I wish I'd taken my foot off the gas as the trip progressed — for my grandma's sake as well as my own.As we reached days five and six of the trip, my excitement for the activities I planned dwindled, and I found myself wishing I hadn't planned them at all.Besides, the memories I cherish most from the trip weren't the museums or guided tours, they were the unplanned ones: a shared bottle of wine with our bed and breakfast hosts, a visit to an outdoor antique market, and a nightcap at a speakeasy.Despite the challenges, I'd love to travel with my grandma again I would love to go on another trip with my grandma. Emily Schlorf To anyone contemplating a multigenerational trip, I say do it, but be more considerate than I was. Take time to plan the trip together, think of everyone's needs, and be content with slowing down.Strolling through the city hand-in-hand with my grandma, I learned that it's OK to leave some stones unturned, because the real joy comes from who you're turning them with. Recommended video