show some love for the losers Delightfully irreverent Underdogs isn’t your parents’ nature docuseries Ryan Reynolds narrates NatGeo's new series highlighting nature's much less cool and majestic creatures Jennifer Ouellette – Jun 15, 2025 3:11 pm | 5 The indestructible honey badger is just one of nature's "benchwarmers" featured in Underdogs Credit: National Geographic/Doug Parker The indestructible honey badger is just one of nature's "benchwarmers" featured in Underdogs Credit: National Geographic/Doug Parker Story text Size Small Standard Large Width * Standard Wide Links Standard Orange * Subscribers only   Learn more Narrator Ryan Reynolds celebrates nature's outcasts in the new NatGeo docuseries Underdogs. Most of us have seen a nature documentary or two (or three) at some point in our lives, so it's a familiar format: sweeping majestic footage of impressively regal animals accompanied by reverently high-toned narration (preferably with a tony British accent). Underdogs, a new docuseries from National Geographic, takes a decidedly different and unconventional approach. Narrated by with hilarious irreverence by Ryan Reynolds, the five-part series highlights nature's less cool and majestic creatures: the outcasts and benchwarmers, more noteworthy for their "unconventional hygiene choices" and "unsavory courtship rituals." It's like The Suicide Squad or Thunderbolts*, except these creatures actually exist. Per the official premise, "Underdogs features a range of never-before-filmed scenes, including the first time a film crew has ever entered a special cave in New Zealand—a huge cavern that glows brighter than a bachelor pad under a black light thanks to the glowing butts of millions of mucus-coated grubs. All over the world, overlooked superstars like this are out there 24/7, giving it maximum effort and keeping the natural world in working order for all those showboating polar bears, sharks and gorillas." It's rated PG-13 thanks to the odd bit of scatalogical humor and shots of Nature Sexy Time Each of the five episodes is built around a specific genre. "Superheroes" highlights the surprising superpowers of the honey badger, pistol shrimp, and the invisible glass frog, among others, augmented with comic book graphics; "Sexy Beasts" focuses on bizarre mating habits and follows the format of a romantic advice column; "Terrible Parents" highlights nature's worst practices, following the outline of a parenting guide; "Total Grossout" is exactly what it sounds like; and "The Unusual Suspects" is a heist tale, documenting the supposed efforts of a macaque to put together the ultimate team of masters of deception and disguise (an inside man, a decoy, a fall guy, etc.).  Green Day even wrote and recorded a special theme song for the opening credits. Co-creators Mark Linfield and Vanessa Berlowitz of Wildstar Films are longtime producers of award-winning wildlife films, most notably Frozen Planet, Planet Earth and David Attenborough's Life of Mammals—you know, the kind of prestige nature documentaries that have become a mainstay for National Geographic and the BBC, among others. They're justly proud of that work, but this time around the duo wanted to try something different. Madagascar's aye-aye: "as if fear and panic had a baby and rolled it in dog hair" National Geographic/Eleanor Paish Madagascar's aye-aye: "as if fear and panic had a baby and rolled it in dog hair" National Geographic/Eleanor Paish An emerald jewel wasp emerges from a cockroach. National Geographic/Simon De Glanville An emerald jewel wasp emerges from a cockroach. National Geographic/Simon De Glanville A pack of African hunting dogs is no match for the honey badger's thick hide. National Geographic/Tom Walker A pack of African hunting dogs is no match for the honey badger's thick hide. National Geographic/Tom Walker An emerald jewel wasp emerges from a cockroach. National Geographic/Simon De Glanville A pack of African hunting dogs is no match for the honey badger's thick hide. National Geographic/Tom Walker A fireworm is hit by a cavitation bubble shot from the claw of a pistol shrimp defending its home. National Geographic/Hugh Miller As it grows and molts, the mad hatterpillar stacks old head casings on top of its head. Scientists think it is used as a decoy against would-be predators and parasites, and when needed, it can also be used as a weapon. National Geographic/Katherine Hannaford Worst parents ever? A young barnacle goose chick prepares t make the 800-foot jump from its nest to the ground. National Geographic An adult pearlfish reverses into a sea cucumber's butt to hide. National Geographic A vulture sticks its head inside an elephant carcass to eat. National Geographic A manatee releases flatulence while swimming to lose the buoyancy build up of gas inside its stomach, and descend down the water column. National Geographic/Karl Davies "There is a sense after awhile that you're playing the same animals to the same people, and the shows are starting to look the same and so is your audience," Linfield told Ars. "We thought, okay, how can we do something absolutely the opposite? We've gone through our careers collecting stories of these weird and crazy creatures that don't end up in the script because they're not big or sexy and they live under a rock. But they often have the best life histories and the craziest superpowers." Case in point: the velvet worm featured in the "Superheroes" episode, which creeps up on unsuspecting prey before squirting disgusting slime all over their food. (It's a handy defense mechanism, too, against predators like the wolf spider.) Once Linfield and Berlowitz decided to focus on nature's underdogs and to take a more humorous approach, Ryan Reynolds became their top choice for a narrator—the anti-Richard Attenborough. As luck would have it, the pair shared an agent with the mega-star. So even though they thought there was no way Reynolds would agree to the project, they put together a sizzle reel, complete with a "fake Canadian Ryan Reynolds sound-alike" doing the narration. Reynolds was on set when he received the reel, and loved it so much he recoded his own narration for the footage and sent it back. "From that moment he was in," said Linfield, and Wildstar Films worked closely with Reynolds and his company to develop the final series. "We've never worked that way on a series before, a joint collaboration from day one," Berlowitz admitted. But it worked: the end result strikes the perfect balance between scientific revelation and accurate natural history, and an edgy comic tone. That tone is quintessential Reynolds, and while he did mostly follow the script (which his team helped write), Linfield and Berlowitz admit there was also a fair amount of improvisation—not all of it PG-13.  "What we hadn't appreciated is that he's an incredible improv performer," said Berlowitz. "He can't help himself. He gets into character and starts riffing off [the footage]. There are some takes that we definitely couldn't use, that potentially would fit a slightly more Hulu audience."  Some of the ad-libs made it into the final episodes, however—like Reynolds describing an Aye-Aye as "if fear and panic had a baby and rolled it in dog hair"—even though it meant going back and doing a bit of recutting to get the new lines to fit. Cinematographer Tom Beldam films a long-tailed macaque who stole his smart phone minutes later. National Geographic/Laura Pennafort Cinematographer Tom Beldam films a long-tailed macaque who stole his smart phone minutes later. National Geographic/Laura Pennafort The macaque agrees to trade ithe stolen phone for a piece of food. National Geographic The macaque agrees to trade ithe stolen phone for a piece of food. National Geographic A family of tortoise beetles defend themselves from a carnivorous ant by wafting baby poop in its direction. National Geographic A family of tortoise beetles defend themselves from a carnivorous ant by wafting baby poop in its direction. National Geographic The macaque agrees to trade ithe stolen phone for a piece of food. National Geographic A family of tortoise beetles defend themselves from a carnivorous ant by wafting baby poop in its direction. National Geographic A male hippo sprays his feces at another male who is threatening to take over his patch. National Geographic A male proboscis monkey flaunts his large nose. The noses of these males are used to amplify their calls in the vast forest. National Geographic Dream girl: A blood-soaked female hyena looks across the African savanna. National Geographic A male bowerbird presents one of the finest items in his collection to a female in his bower. National Geographic The male nursery web spider presents his nuptial gift to the female. National Geographic Cue the Barry White mood music: Two leopard slugs suspend themselves on a rope of mucus as they entwine their bodies to mate with one another. National Geographic Despite their years of collective experience, Linfield and Berlowitz were initially skeptical when the crew told them about the pearl fish, which hides from predators in a sea cucumber's butt (along with many other species). "It had never been filmed so we said, 'You're going to have to prove it to us,'" said Berlowitz. "They came back with this fantastic, hilarious sequence of a pearl fish reverse parking [in a sea cucumber's anus)." The film crew experienced a few heart-pounding moments, most notably while filming the cliffside nests of barnacle geese for the "Terrible Parents" episode. A melting glacier caused a watery avalanche while the crew was filming the geese, and they had to quickly grab a few shots and run to safety. Less dramatic: cinematographer Tom Beldam had his smartphone stolen by a long-tailed macaque mere minutes after he finished capturing the animal on film. If all goes well and Underdogs finds its target audience, we may even get a follow-up. "We are slightly plowing new territory but the science is as true as it's ever been and the stories are good. That aspect of the natural history is still there," said Linfield. "I think what we really hope for is that people who don't normally watch natural history will watch it. If people have as much fun watching it as we had making it, then the metrics should be good enough for another season." Verdict: Underdogs is positively addictive; I binged all five episodes in a single day. (For his part, Reynolds said in a statement that he was thrilled to "finally watch a project of ours with my children. Technically they saw Deadpool and Wolverine but I don't think they absorbed much while covering their eyes and ears and screaming for two hours.") Underdogs premieres June 15, 2025, at 9 PM/8 PM Central on National Geographic (simulcast on ABC) and will be available for streaming on Disney+ and Hulu the following day.  You should watch it, if only to get that second season. Jennifer Ouellette Senior Writer Jennifer Ouellette Senior Writer Jennifer is a senior writer at Ars Technica with a particular focus on where science meets culture, covering everything from physics and related interdisciplinary topics to her favorite films and TV series. Jennifer lives in Baltimore with her spouse, physicist Sean M. Carroll, and their two cats, Ariel and Caliban. 5 Comments

June 13, 20256 min readAir-Conditioning Can Surprisingly Help the Power Grid during Extreme HeatSwitching on air-conditioning during extreme heat doesn’t have to make us feel guilty—it can actually boost power grid reliability and help bring more renewable energy onlineBy Johanna Mathieu & The Conversation US Imagedepotpro/Getty ImagesThe following essay is reprinted with permission from The Conversation, an online publication covering the latest research.As summer arrives, people are turning on air conditioners in most of the U.S. But if you’re like me, you always feel a little guilty about that. Past generations managed without air conditioning – do I really need it? And how bad is it to use all this electricity for cooling in a warming world?If I leave my air conditioner off, I get too hot. But if everyone turns on their air conditioner at the same time, electricity demand spikes, which can force power grid operators to activate some of the most expensive, and dirtiest, power plants. Sometimes those spikes can ask too much of the grid and lead to brownouts or blackouts.On supporting science journalismIf you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.Research I recently published with a team of scholars makes me feel a little better, though. We have found that it is possible to coordinate the operation of large numbers of home air-conditioning units, balancing supply and demand on the power grid – and without making people endure high temperatures inside their homes.Studies along these lines, using remote control of air conditioners to support the grid, have for many years explored theoretical possibilities like this. However, few approaches have been demonstrated in practice and never for such a high-value application and at this scale. The system we developed not only demonstrated the ability to balance the grid on timescales of seconds, but also proved it was possible to do so without affecting residents’ comfort.The benefits include increasing the reliability of the power grid, which makes it easier for the grid to accept more renewable energy. Our goal is to turn air conditioners from a challenge for the power grid into an asset, supporting a shift away from fossil fuels toward cleaner energy.Adjustable equipmentMy research focuses on batteries, solar panels and electric equipment – such as electric vehicles, water heaters, air conditioners and heat pumps – that can adjust itself to consume different amounts of energy at different times.Originally, the U.S. electric grid was built to transport electricity from large power plants to customers’ homes and businesses. And originally, power plants were large, centralized operations that burned coal or natural gas, or harvested energy from nuclear reactions. These plants were typically always available and could adjust how much power they generated in response to customer demand, so the grid would be balanced between power coming in from producers and being used by consumers.But the grid has changed. There are more renewable energy sources, from which power isn’t always available – like solar panels at night or wind turbines on calm days. And there are the devices and equipment I study. These newer options, called “distributed energy resources,” generate or store energy near where consumers need it – or adjust how much energy they’re using in real time.One aspect of the grid hasn’t changed, though: There’s not much storage built into the system. So every time you turn on a light, for a moment there’s not enough electricity to supply everything that wants it right then: The grid needs a power producer to generate a little more power. And when you turn off a light, there’s a little too much: A power producer needs to ramp down.The way power plants know what real-time power adjustments are needed is by closely monitoring the grid frequency. The goal is to provide electricity at a constant frequency – 60 hertz – at all times. If more power is needed than is being produced, the frequency drops and a power plant boosts output. If there’s too much power being produced, the frequency rises and a power plant slows production a little. These actions, a process called “frequency regulation,” happen in a matter of seconds to keep the grid balanced.This output flexibility, primarily from power plants, is key to keeping the lights on for everyone.Finding new optionsI’m interested in how distributed energy resources can improve flexibility in the grid. They can release more energy, or consume less, to respond to the changing supply or demand, and help balance the grid, ensuring the frequency remains near 60 hertz.Some people fear that doing so might be invasive, giving someone outside your home the ability to control your battery or air conditioner. Therefore, we wanted to see if we could help balance the grid with frequency regulation using home air-conditioning units rather than power plants – without affecting how residents use their appliances or how comfortable they are in their homes.From 2019 to 2023, my group at the University of Michigan tried this approach, in collaboration with researchers at Pecan Street Inc., Los Alamos National Laboratory and the University of California, Berkeley, with funding from the U.S. Department of Energy Advanced Research Projects Agency-Energy.We recruited 100 homeowners in Austin, Texas, to do a real-world test of our system. All the homes had whole-house forced-air cooling systems, which we connected to custom control boards and sensors the owners allowed us to install in their homes. This equipment let us send instructions to the air-conditioning units based on the frequency of the grid.Before I explain how the system worked, I first need to explain how thermostats work. When people set thermostats, they pick a temperature, and the thermostat switches the air-conditioning compressor on and off to maintain the air temperature within a small range around that set point. If the temperature is set at 68 degrees, the thermostat turns the AC on when the temperature is, say, 70, and turns it off when it’s cooled down to, say, 66.Every few seconds, our system slightly changed the timing of air-conditioning compressor switching for some of the 100 air conditioners, causing the units’ aggregate power consumption to change. In this way, our small group of home air conditioners reacted to grid changes the way a power plant would – using more or less energy to balance the grid and keep the frequency near 60 hertz.Moreover, our system was designed to keep home temperatures within the same small temperature range around the set point.Testing the approachWe ran our system in four tests, each lasting one hour. We found two encouraging results.First, the air conditioners were able to provide frequency regulation at least as accurately as a traditional power plant. Therefore, we showed that air conditioners could play a significant role in increasing grid flexibility. But perhaps more importantly – at least in terms of encouraging people to participate in these types of systems – we found that we were able to do so without affecting people’s comfort in their homes.We found that home temperatures did not deviate more than 1.6 Fahrenheit from their set point. Homeowners were allowed to override the controls if they got uncomfortable, but most didn’t. For most tests, we received zero override requests. In the worst case, we received override requests from two of the 100 homes in our test.In practice, this sort of technology could be added to commercially available internet-connected thermostats. In exchange for credits on their energy bills, users could choose to join a service run by the thermostat company, their utility provider or some other third party.Then people could turn on the air conditioning in the summer heat without that pang of guilt, knowing they were helping to make the grid more reliable and more capable of accommodating renewable energy sources – without sacrificing their own comfort in the process.This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

The ways roads are used, with ever larger and heavier vehicles, have dramatic consequences on the environment – and electric cars are not the answer Today, there is an average of 37 tonnes of road per inhabitant of the planet. The weight of the road network alone accounts for a third of all construction worldwide, and has grown exponentially in the 20th century. There is 10 times more bitumen, in mass, than there are living animals. Yet growth in the mass of roads does not automatically correspond to population growth, or translate into increased length of road networks. In wealthier countries, the number of metres of road per inhabitant has actually fallen over the last century. In the United States, for instance, between 1905 and 2015 the length of the network increased by a factor of 1.75 and the population by a factor of 3.8, compared with 21 for the mass of roads. Roads have become wider and, above all, much thicker. To understand the evolution of these parameters, and their environmental impact, it is helpful to trace the different stages in the life of the motorway.  Until the early 20th century, roads were used for various modes of transport, including horses, bicycles, pedestrians and trams; as a result of the construction of railways, road traffic even declined in some European countries in the 19th century. The main novelty brought by the motorway was that they would be reserved for motorised traffic. In several languages, the word itself – autostrada, autobahn, autoroute or motorway – speaks of this exclusivity.  Roman roads varied from simple corduroy roads, made by placing logs perpendicular to the direction of the road over a low or swampy area, to paved roads, as this engraving from Jean Rondelet’s 19th‑century Traité Théorique et Pratique de l’Art de Bâtir shows. Using deep roadbeds of tamped rubble as an underlying layer to ensure that they kept dry, major roads were often stone-paved, metalled, cambered for drainage and flanked by footpaths, bridleways and drainage ditches Like any major piece of infrastructure, motorways became the subject of ideological discourse, long before any shovel hit the ground; politicians underlined their role in the service of the nation, how they would contribute to progress, development, the economy, modernity and even civilisation. The inauguration ceremony for the construction of the first autostrada took place in March 1923, presided over by Italy’s prime minister Benito Mussolini. The second major motorway programme was announced by the Nazi government in 1933, with a national network planned to be around 7,000 kilometres long. In his 2017 book Driving Modernity: Technology, Experts, Politics, and Fascist Motorways, 1922–1943, historian Massimo Moraglio shows how both programmes were used as propaganda tools by the regimes, most notably at the international road congresses in Milan in 1926 and Munich in 1934. In the European postwar era, the notion of the ‘civilising’ effect of roads persevered. In 1962, Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, then‑secretary of state for finances and later president of France, argued that expanded motorways would bring ‘progress, activity and life’. This discourse soon butted up against the realities of how motorways affected individuals and communities. In his 2011 book Fighting Traffic: The Dawn of the Motor Age in the American City, Peter D Norton explores the history of resistance to the imposition of motorised traffic in North American cities. Until the 1920s, there was a perception that cars were dangerous newcomers, and that other street and road uses – especially walking – were more legitimate. Cars were associated with speed and danger; restrictions on motorists, especially speed limits, were routine.  Built between 1962 and 1970, the Westway was London’s first urban motorway, elevated above the city to use less land. Construction workers are seen stressing the longitudinal soffit cables inside the box section of the deck units to achieve the bearing capacity necessary to carry the weight of traffic Credit: Heritage Image Partnership Ltd / Alamy To gain domination over cities, motor vehicles had to win priority over other street uses. Rather than restricting the flow of vehicles to minimise the risk of road accidents, a specific infrastructure was dedicated to them: both inner‑city roads and motorways. Cutting through the landscape, the motorway had, by definition, to be inaccessible by any other means of transport than motorised vehicle. To guarantee the fluidity of traffic, the construction of imposing bridges, tunnels and interchanges is necessary, particularly at junctions with other roads, railways or canals. This prioritisation of one type of user inevitably impacts journeys for others; as space is fragmented, short journeys are lengthened for those trying to navigate space by foot or bicycle.  Enabling cars to drive at around 110–140km/h on motorways, as modern motorways do, directly impacts their design, with major environmental effects: the gradient has to be gentle (4 per cent), the curves long (1.5km in radius) and the lanes wide, to allow vehicles to overtake each other safely. As much terrain around the world is not naturally suited to these requirements, the earthworks are considerable: in France, the construction of a metre of highway requires moving some 100m3 of earth, and when the soil is soft, full of clay or peat, it is made firmer with hydraulic lime and cement before the highway’s first sub‑layers are laid. This material cost reinforces the criticisms levelled in the 1960s, by the likes of Jane Jacobs and Lewis Mumford, at urban planning that prioritised the personal motor vehicle. When roads are widened to accommodate more traffic, buildings are sliced and demolished, as happened in Dhaka’s Bhasantek Road in 2021 Credit: Dhaka Tribune Once built, the motorway is never inert. Motorway projects today generally anticipate future expansion (from 2×2 to 2×3 to 2×4 lanes), and include a large median strip of 12m between the lanes, with a view to adding new ones. Increases in speed and vehicle sizes have also translated into wider lanes, from 2.5m in 1945 to 3.5m today. The average contemporary motorway footprint is therefore 100 square metres per linear metre. Indeed, although the construction of a road is supposed to reduce congestion, it also generates new traffic and, therefore, new congestion. This is the principle of ‘induced traffic’: the provision of extra road capacity results in a greater volume of traffic. The Katy Freeway in Texas famously illustrates this dynamic. Built as a regular six‑lane highway in the 1960s, it was called the second worst bottleneck in the nation by 2004, wasting 25 million hours a year of commuter time. In 2011, the state of Texas invested US$2.8 billion to fix this problem, widening the road to a staggering total of 26 lanes. By 2014, the morning and afternoon traffic had both increased again. The vicious circle based on the induced traffic has been empirically demonstrated in most countries: traffic has continued to increase and congestion remains unresolved, leading to ever-increasing emissions. In the EU, transport is the only sector where greenhouse gas emissions have increased in the past three decades, rising 33.5 per cent between 1990 and 2019. Transport accounts for around a fifth of global CO₂ emissions today, with three quarters of this figure linked to road transport. Houston’s Katy Freeway is one of the world’s widest motorways, with 26 lanes. Its last expansion, in 2008, was initially hailed as a success, but within five years, peak travel times were longer than before the expansion – a direct illustration of the principle of induced traffic Credit: Smiley N Pool / Houston Chronicle / Getty Like other large transport infrastructures such as ports and airports, motorways are designed for the largest and heaviest vehicles. Engineers, road administrations and politicians have known since the 1950s that one truck represents millions of cars: the impact of a vehicle on the roadway is exponential to its weight – an online ‘road damage calculator’ allows you to compare the damage done by different types of vehicles to the road. Over the years, heavier and heavier trucks have been authorised to operate on roads: from 8‑tonne trucks in 1945 to 44 tonnes nowadays. The European Parliament adopted a revised directive on 12 March 2024 authorising mega‑trucks to travel on European roads; they can measure up to 25 metres and weigh up to 60 tonnes, compared with the previous limits of 18.75 metres and 44 tonnes. This is a political and economic choice with considerable material effects: thickness, rigidity of sub‑bases and consolidation of soil and subsoil with lime and cement. Altogether, motorways are 10 times thicker than large roads from the late 19th century. In France, it takes an average of 30 tonnes of sand and aggregate to build one linear metre of motorway, 100 times more than cement and bitumen.  The material history of road networks is a history of quarrying and environmental damage. The traces of roads can also be seen in rivers emptied of their sediment, the notches of quarries in the hills and the furrows of dredgers extracting sand from the seabed. This material extraction, arguably the most significant in human history, has dramatic ecological consequences for rivers, groundwater tables, the rise of sea levels and saltwater in farmlands, as well as biodiversity. As sand is ubiquitous and very cheap, the history of roads is also the history of a local extractivism and environmental conflicts around the world.  Shoving and rutting is the bulging and rippling of the pavement surface. Once built, roads require extensive maintenance – the heavier the vehicles, the quicker the damage. From pothole repair to the full resurfacing of a road, maintenance contributes to keeping road users safe Credit: Yakov Oskanov / Alamy Once roads are built and extended, they need to be maintained to support the circulation of lorries and, by extension, commodities. This stage is becoming increasingly important as rail freight, which used to be important in countries such as France and the UK, is declining, accounting for no more than 10 per cent of the transport of commodities. Engineers might judge that a motorway is destined to last 20 years or so, but this prognosis will be significantly reduced with heavy traffic. The same applies to the thousands of motorway bridges: in the UK, nearly half of the 9,000 highway bridges are in poor condition; in France, 7 per cent of the 12,000 bridges are in danger of collapsing, as did Genoa’s Morandi bridge in 2018. If only light vehicles drove on it, this infrastructure would last much longer. This puts into perspective governments’ insistence on ‘greening’ the transport sector by targeting CO2 emissions alone, typically by promoting the use of electric vehicles (EVs). Public policies prioritising EVs do nothing to change the mass of roads or the issue of their maintenance – even if lorries were to run on clean air, massive quarrying would still be necessary. A similar argument plays out with regard to canals and ports, which have been constantly widened and deepened for decades to accommodate ever-larger oil tankers or container ships. The simple operation of these infrastructures, dimensioned for the circulation of commodities and not humans, requires permanent dredging of large volumes. The environmental problem of large transport infrastructure goes beyond the type of energy used: it is, at its root, free and globalised trade. ‘The material life cycle of motorways is relentless: constructing, maintaining, widening, thickening, repairing’ As both a material and ideological object, the motorway fixes certain political choices in the landscape. Millions of kilometres of road continue to be asphalted, widened and thickened around the world to favour cars and lorries. In France, more than 80 per cent of today’s sand and aggregate extraction is used for civil engineering works – the rest goes to buildings. Even if no more buildings, roads or other infrastructures were to be built, phenomenal quantities of sand and aggregates would still need to be extracted in order to maintain existing road networks. The material life cycle of motorways is relentless: constructing, maintaining, widening, thickening, repairing, adding new structures such as wildlife crossings, more maintaining.  Rising traffic levels are always deemed positive by governments for a country’s economy and development. As Christopher Wells shows in his 2014 book Car Country: An Environmental History, car use becomes necessary in an environment where everything has been planned for the car, from the location of public services and supermarkets to residential and office areas. Similarly, when an entire economy is based on globalised trade and just‑in‑time logistics (to the point that many service economies could not produce their own personal protective equipment in the midst of a pandemic), the lorry and the container ship become vital.  The final stage in the life of a piece of motorway infrastructure is dismantling. Like the other stages, this one is not a natural outcome but the fruit of political choices – which should be democratic – regarding how we wish to use existing roads. Dismantling, which is essential if we are to put an end to the global extractivism of sand and aggregates, does not mean destruction: if bicycles and pedestrians were to use them instead, maintenance would be minimal. This final stage requires a paradigm shift away from the eternal adaptation to increasing traffic. Replacing cars and lorries with public transport and rail freight would be a first step. But above all, a different political and spatial organisation of economic activities is necessary, and ultimately, an end to globalised, just-in-time trade and logistics. In 1978, a row of cars parked at a shopping centre in Connecticut was buried under a thick layer of gooey asphalt. The Ghost Parking Lot, one of the first projects by James Wines’ practice SITE, became a playground for skateboarders until it was removed in 2003. Images of this lumpy landscape serve as allegories of the damage caused by reliance on the automobile Credit: Project by SITE Lead image: Some road damage is beyond repair, as when a landslide caused a large chunk of the Gothenburg–Oslo motorway to collapse in 2023. Such dramatic events remind us of both the fragility of these seemingly robust infrastructures, and the damage that extensive construction does to the planet. Credit: Hanna Brunlöf Windell / TT / Shutterstock 2025-06-03 Reuben J Brown Share

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

SVG animations take me back to the Hanna-Barbera cartoons I watched as a kid. Shows like Wacky Races, The Perils of Penelope Pitstop, and, of course, Yogi Bear. They inspired me to lovingly recreate some classic Toon Titles using CSS, SVG, and SMIL animations. But getting animations to load quickly and work smoothly needs more than nostalgia. It takes clean design, lean code, and a process that makes complex SVGs easier to animate. Here’s how I do it. Start Clean And Design With Optimisation In Mind Keeping things simple is key to making SVGs that are optimised and ready to animate. Tools like Adobe Illustrator convert bitmap images to vectors, but the output often contains too many extraneous groups, layers, and masks. Instead, I start cleaning in Sketch, work from a reference image, and use the Pen tool to create paths. Tip: Affinity Designer (UK) and Sketch (Netherlands) are alternatives to Adobe Illustrator and Figma. Both are independent and based in Europe. Sketch has been my default design app since Adobe killed Fireworks. Beginning With Outlines For these Toon Titles illustrations, I first use the Pen tool to draw black outlines with as few anchor points as possible. The more points a shape has, the bigger a file becomes, so simplifying paths and reducing the number of points makes an SVG much smaller, often with no discernible visual difference. Bearing in mind that parts of this Yogi illustration will ultimately be animated, I keep outlines for this Bewitched Bear’s body, head, collar, and tie separate so that I can move them independently. The head might nod, the tie could flap, and, like in those classic cartoons, Yogi’s collar will hide the joins between them. Drawing Simple Background Shapes With the outlines in place, I use the Pen tool again to draw new shapes, which fill the areas with colour. These colours sit behind the outlines, so they don’t need to match them exactly. The fewer anchor points, the smaller the file size. Sadly, neither Affinity Designer nor Sketch has tools that can simplify paths, but if you have it, using Adobe Illustrator can shave a few extra kilobytes off these background shapes. Optimising The Code It’s not just metadata that makes SVG bulkier. The way you export from your design app also affects file size. Exporting just those simple background shapes from Adobe Illustrator includes unnecessary groups, masks, and bloated path data by default. Sketch’s code is barely any better, and there’s plenty of room for improvement, even in its SVGO Compressor code. I rely on Jake Archibald’s SVGOMG, which uses SVGO v3 and consistently delivers the best optimised SVGs. Layering SVG Elements My process for preparing SVGs for animation goes well beyond drawing vectors and optimising paths — it also includes how I structure the code itself. When every visual element is crammed into a single SVG file, even optimised code can be a nightmare to navigate. Locating a specific path or group often feels like searching for a needle in a haystack. That’s why I develop my SVGs in layers, exporting and optimising one set of elements at a time — always in the order they’ll appear in the final file. This lets me build the master SVG gradually by pasting it in each cleaned-up section. For example, I start with backgrounds like this gradient and title graphic. Instead of facing a wall of SVG code, I can now easily identify the background gradient’s path and its associated linearGradient, and see the group containing the title graphic. I take this opportunity to add a comment to the code, which will make editing and adding animations to it easier in the future: <svg ...> <defs> <!-- ... --> </defs> <path fill="url(#grad)" d="…"/> <!-- TITLE GRAPHIC --> <g> <path … /> <!-- ... --> </g> </svg> Next, I add the blurred trail from Yogi’s airborne broom. This includes defining a Gaussian Blur filter and placing its path between the background and title layers: <svg ...> <defs> <linearGradient id="grad" …>…</linearGradient> <filter id="trail" …>…</filter> </defs> <!-- GRADIENT --> <!-- TRAIL --> <path filter="url(#trail)" …/> <!-- TITLE GRAPHIC --> </svg> Then come the magical stars, added in the same sequential fashion: <svg ...> <!-- GRADIENT --> <!-- TRAIL --> <!-- STARS --> <!-- TITLE GRAPHIC --> </svg> To keep everything organised and animation-ready, I create an empty group that will hold all the parts of Yogi: <g id="yogi">...</g> Then I build Yogi from the ground up — starting with background props, like his broom: <g id="broom">...</g> Followed by grouped elements for his body, head, collar, and tie: <g id="yogi"> <g id="broom">…</g> <g id="body">…</g> <g id="head">…</g> <g id="collar">…</g> <g id="tie">…</g> </g> Since I export each layer from the same-sized artboard, I don’t need to worry about alignment or positioning issues later on — they’ll all slot into place automatically. I keep my code clean, readable, and ordered logically by layering elements this way. It also makes animating smoother, as each component is easier to identify. Reusing Elements With <use> When duplicate shapes get reused repeatedly, SVG files can get bulky fast. My recreation of the “Bewitched Bear” title card contains 80 stars in three sizes. Combining all those shapes into one optimised path would bring the file size down to 3KB. But I want to animate individual stars, which would almost double that to 5KB: <g id="stars"> <path class="star-small" fill="#eae3da" d="..."/> <path class="star-medium" fill="#eae3da" d="..."/> <path class="star-large" fill="#eae3da" d="..."/> <!-- ... --> </g> Moving the stars’ fill attribute values to their parent group reduces the overall weight a little: <g id="stars" fill="#eae3da"> <path class="star-small" d="…"/> <path class="star-medium" d="…"/> <path class="star-large" d="…"/> <!-- ... --> </g> But a more efficient and manageable option is to define each star size as a reusable template: <defs> <path id="star-large" fill="#eae3da" fill-rule="evenodd" d="…"/> <path id="star-medium" fill="#eae3da" fill-rule="evenodd" d="…"/> <path id="star-small" fill="#eae3da" fill-rule="evenodd" d="…"/> </defs> With this setup, changing a star’s design only means updating its template once, and every instance updates automatically. Then, I reference each one using <use> and position them with x and y attributes: <g id="stars"> <!-- Large stars --> <use href="#star-large" x="1575" y="495"/> <!-- ... --> <!-- Medium stars --> <use href="#star-medium" x="1453" y="696"/> <!-- ... --> <!-- Small stars --> <use href="#star-small" x="1287" y="741"/> <!-- ... --> </g> This approach makes the SVG easier to manage, lighter to load, and faster to iterate on, especially when working with dozens of repeating elements. Best of all, it keeps the markup clean without compromising on flexibility or performance. Adding Animations The stars trailing behind Yogi’s stolen broom bring so much personality to the animation. I wanted them to sparkle in a seemingly random pattern against the dark blue background, so I started by defining a keyframe animation that cycles through different opacity levels: @keyframes sparkle { 0%, 100% { opacity: .1; } 50% { opacity: 1; } } Next, I applied this looping animation to every use element inside my stars group: #stars use { animation: sparkle 10s ease-in-out infinite; } The secret to creating a convincing twinkle lies in variation. I staggered animation delays and durations across the stars using nth-child selectors, starting with the quickest and most frequent sparkle effects: /* Fast, frequent */ #stars use:nth-child(n + 1):nth-child(-n + 10) { animation-delay: .1s; animation-duration: 2s; } From there, I layered in additional timings to mix things up. Some stars sparkle slowly and dramatically, others more randomly, with a variety of rhythms and pauses: /* Medium */ #stars use:nth-child(n + 11):nth-child(-n + 20) { ... } /* Slow, dramatic */ #stars use:nth-child(n + 21):nth-child(-n + 30) { ... } /* Random */ #stars use:nth-child(3n + 2) { ... } /* Alternating */ #stars use:nth-child(4n + 1) { ... } /* Scattered */ #stars use:nth-child(n + 31) { ... } By thoughtfully structuring the SVG and reusing elements, I can build complex-looking animations without bloated code, making even a simple effect like changing opacity sparkle. Then, for added realism, I make Yogi’s head wobble: @keyframes headWobble { 0% { transform: rotate(-0.8deg) translateY(-0.5px); } 100% { transform: rotate(0.9deg) translateY(0.3px); } } #head { animation: headWobble 0.8s cubic-bezier(0.5, 0.15, 0.5, 0.85) infinite alternate; } His tie waves: @keyframes tieWave { 0%, 100% { transform: rotateZ(-4deg) rotateY(15deg) scaleX(0.96); } 33% { transform: rotateZ(5deg) rotateY(-10deg) scaleX(1.05); } 66% { transform: rotateZ(-2deg) rotateY(5deg) scaleX(0.98); } } #tie { transform-style: preserve-3d; animation: tieWave 10s cubic-bezier(0.68, -0.55, 0.27, 1.55) infinite; } His broom swings: @keyframes broomSwing { 0%, 20% { transform: rotate(-5deg); } 30% { transform: rotate(-4deg); } 50%, 70% { transform: rotate(5deg); } 80% { transform: rotate(4deg); } 100% { transform: rotate(-5deg); } } #broom { animation: broomSwing 4s cubic-bezier(0.5, 0.05, 0.5, 0.95) infinite; } And, finally, Yogi himself gently rotates as he flies on his magical broom: @keyframes yogiWobble { 0% { transform: rotate(-2.8deg) translateY(-0.8px) scale(0.998); } 30% { transform: rotate(1.5deg) translateY(0.3px); } 100% { transform: rotate(3.2deg) translateY(1.2px) scale(1.002); } } #yogi { animation: yogiWobble 3.5s cubic-bezier(.37, .14, .3, .86) infinite alternate; } All these subtle movements bring Yogi to life. By developing structured SVGs, I can create animations that feel full of character without writing a single line of JavaScript. Try this yourself: See the Pen Bewitched Bear CSS/SVG animation [forked] by Andy Clarke. Conclusion Whether you’re recreating a classic title card or animating icons for an interface, the principles are the same: Start clean, Optimise early, and Structure everything with animation in mind. SVGs offer incredible creative freedom, but only if kept lean and manageable. When you plan your process like a production cell — layer by layer, element by element — you’ll spend less time untangling code and more time bringing your work to life.

Unlike the other big streamers, Tubi only has a handful of original shows, most of them imports (their original movie selection is much larger). That's not to say it's a wasteland for TV addicts: The streamer might actually have too many shows, a vast and sometimes wild catalog that spans decades. As the likes of Netflix and HBO Max have slimmed down their catalogues, Tubi is growing, offering a mix of established hits, underrated gems, and more obscure offerings. For the sheer breadth of material on offer, it has become the first place I look for anything outside the current zeitgeist—like the following 18 shows, an entirely non-comprehensive sampling of what Tubi has to offer, crossing genres and decades.Gossip Girl (2007 – 2012) Occasionally referred to as the greatest teen drama of all time (certainly this side of 90210), Gossip Girl was a buzzy ratings champ for the CW back in the day, with its juicy, often scandalous storylines that veered so often into intentional satire that it was hard to ever get mad at the ridiculousness of any of it. Set among a group of well-heeled students on Manhattan's Upper East Side, its characters find their private lives being chronicled by the title’s mysterious master of gossip—so think of it as a proto-Bridgerton. You can stream Gossip Girl here.Babylon 5 (1993 – 1998, five seasons) J. Michael Straczynski’s wildly ambitious sci-fi epic was way ahead of its time, with a planned (more or less) five season story arc set on the titular space station. Babylon 5 is a remote outpost that becomes the last best hope for peace in the face of conflicting human and alien agendas—even more so after an ancient threat is awakened. With increasingly complex storylines that expanded over its run, this was a stab at prestige TV before that was a thing, and it still holds up (dated CGI effects notwithstanding. You can stream Babylon 5 here.Empire (2015 – 2020) Hip hop mogul and Empire Entertainment CEO Lucious Lyon (Terrence Howard) is dying, having been diagnosed with ALS at a young age. He wasn't planning to have to hand off his company so early, but nevertheless finds himself preparing his three very different sons (Trai Byers, Jussie Smollett, and Bryshere Y. Gray) to take the keys to the kingdom—by pitting them against one other. Into this already Shakespearean setup steps Lucious' ex-wife Cookie (Taraji P. Henson), just released from prison and harboring her own plans for Lucious's empire. You can stream Empire here. Mr. Robot (2015 – 2019) Social anxiety disorder, clinical depression, and dissociative identity disorder make up the potent blend of neurodivergences challenging Elliot Alderson (Rami Malek), a genius senior cybersecurity engineer at Allsafe Cybersecurity. In season one, he's recruited by an anarchist who goes by the moniker Mr. Robot (Christian Slater) to encrypt all the financial data of a global mega-conglomerate, thereby erasing massive amounts of debt (hey, real-life hackers, maybe take some notes?). The show starts strong and gets better across its increasingly labyrinthian four seasons—utterly preposterous while also feeling realistic in its technical detail. You can stream Mr. Robot here. Boarders (2024 - , two seasons) This British import feels a bit like a latter-day Skins, with a talented cast of young stars-in-waiting (including leads Josh Tedeku and Jodie Campbell) and a scholastic setting. At the (fictional) prestigious boarding school St. Gilbert’s, five Black teens are newly attending, having earned scholarships, but their integration into the existing cliques is less than smooth. The blend of coming-of-age drama with a willingness to take the piss when it comes to the whole rich private school thing makes this Tubi original a good time. You can stream Boarders here.Big Mood (2024 – , renewed for a second season) Another UK import and Tubi original (at least stateside), Big Mood stars Nicola Coughlan (Bridgerton) and Lydia West (It's a Sin) as a couple of besties in East London, living their best millennial thirtysomething lives. Well, kind of: Maggie's dealing with bipolar disorder, and unclear on whether she wants to continue with her medication as she sets out to write a play, while Lydia is doing her very best running a tanking dive bar inherited from her father. It's both a cute dramedy and an impressively frank exploration of the challenges of living with mental illness. You can stream Big Mood here. Vicious (2013 – 2016, two seasons) The old-school sitcom formula has never been executed quite this bitchily, with the inspired pairing of Ian McKellen and Derek Jacobi as Freddie Thornhill and Stuart Bixby, a couple of nearly 50 years who’ve developed a love-hate relationship. This cast, which includes Frances de la Tour and Game of Thrones’ Ian Rheon, is unbeatable, and the one-liners are hilariously nasty. You can stream Vicious here.The Haves and the Have Nots (2013 – 2021, eight seasons) Tyler Perry's old-school primetime soap was the show that practically built OWN; it was the then-new network's first scripted show, and an immediate breakout. It follows three families: The wealthy Harringtons and the Cryers are wealthy movers in Atlanta, Georgia, while the Young family is overseen by single mom Hanna, who's both a maid for the Cryers and confidante to the family matriarch. There's juicy tension galore between the three families, in no small part because of class differences, but also because they're all equally screwed. You can stream The Haves and the Have Nots here. Spartacus (2010 – 2013) Doing Ridley Scott’s Gladiator one better in terms of both narrative complexity and in hot shirtless gay arena action, Spartacus starts off as pure spectacle and grows into a juicy, high-gloss soap opera by series' end. Buoyed by performances from leads Andy Whitfield (who tragically passed away during the series' original run), Manu Bennett, John Hannah, and Lucy Lawless, it’s sword-and-sandals done right. A follow-up series is in development over at Starz, so it's a good time to catch up. You can stream Spartacus here. Broadchurch (2013 – 2017) Creator Chris Chibnall's dark crime drama didn't invent its particular sub-genre (whatever you call the one where two troubled homicide detectives butt heads in a gloomy town), but it did popularize it to the point that we've been inundated with countless imitators of wide-ranging quality. With the great pairing of Olivia Colman and David Tennant (joined by yet another Doctor Who Doctor, Jodie Whittaker), Broadchurch still stands alongside the best of its kind. You can stream Broadchurch here.Doctor Who (1963 – 1989, 26 seasons) Speaking of Doctor Who, even if you're current with the modern incarnation (if I can use "modern" for a show that started airing in 2005), you've got a lot of timey-wimey adventures to enjoy. Tubi has the entirity of the surviving 26-season original run, going all the way back to 1963 and the story of a mysterious old man living in a junkyard with his granddaughter. Seven doctors is enough to keep anyone busy for a while. Tubi has the show broken out by Doctor, but, if you want to start from the beginning you can stream The First Doctor here. Haven (2010 – 2015) Tubi is a haven for small gems like this, a five-season Stephen King adaptation originally produced by SyFy. Emily Rose stars as Audrey Parker, and FBI Special Agent sent to the small town of Haven, Maine on a routine case who gets drawn into “The Troubles," a series of harmful supernatural events that have recurred throughout the town’s history. A supernatural-case-of-the-week format gives way to a bigger mystery when Audrey comes to learn that this isn’t her first time in Haven, nor the first time she’s encountered the Troubles. You can stream Haven here.Scandal (2012 – 2018, seven seasons) Shonda Rhimes was already a powerhouse producer and screenwriter with several successful seasons of Grey's Anatomy under her belt when Scandal debuted, but its blend of political thrills and sexy, soapy drama is what solidified her brand, and her spot atop of the modern TV landscape. Kerry Washington stars as Olivia Pope, head of the DC-based crisis management firm Olivia Pope & Associates (OPA), who is the person to call when you've got a PR disaster to fix. If you want to get a sense of the stakes involved, consider that Tony Goldwyn costars as Fitzgerald Grant III, president of the United States, and also Olivia's lover. You can stream Scandal here. Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997 – 2003) With word that Sarah Michelle Gellar (and company?) are returning to the wreckage of Sunnydale for a Hulu reboot, it’s probably not a bad time to visit (or revisit, or re-revisit) this seven-season teen vampire hunter saga. While the pacing might feel a little slow, and the effects a little janky, its blend of high school (and then college) angst, kick-ass monster fights, and genuinely laugh-out-loud comedy holds up. You can stream Buffy here.Heartland (2007 – , 18 seasons) If there’s a stereotype that middle-American viewers won’t watch foreign fare, this show puts the lie to it—at least when it comes to imports from Alberta (tariff-free!). Based on a popular book series from Linda Chapman and Beth Chambers (writing under the name Lauren Brooke), the show follows the lives of a family of horse ranchers in western Canada, led by sisters Amy and Lou (Amber Marshall and Michelle Morgan). Tubi currently has only the first 15 seasons of the drama, which has recently been renewed for a 19th. That’s Law & Order-level longevity, people. You can stream Heartland here.Highlander (1992 – 1998, six seasons) An classic of '90s-era syndicated action/adventure, Highlander stars Adrian Paul as the title hero, taking over from Christopher Lambert in the film series. Duncan MacLeod is an immortal warrior living in the modern(-ish) day, hunted by others of his own kind, whose goal is singular: to chop off Duncan's head in order to steal his power. Episodes typically involve some sort of flashback to an earlier era in Duncan's life where we first encounter the threat he'll face in the modern day. There's at least one good sword fight in every episode, and I can't imagine what more you'd want out of a series. Bonus: It carries over the films' kick-ass Queen theme song. You can stream Highlander here. Z Nation (2014 - 2019) The Walking Dead made prestige television out of the zombie apocalypse, but this SyFy channel original is all about zombies as a campy, gory good time.  Things kick off with a soldier who’s been tasked with transporting a package across country. The package in question is actually a human being, the survivor of a zombie bite who might be able to help create a vaccine (take note, The Last of Us fans). This one comes from the schlock-masters at The Asylum, purveyors of infamous B-movies like Sharknado, which should tell you all you need to know about the tone. You can stream Z Nation here.Columbo (1968 – 2003, 16 seasons) Peter Falk's sublimely rumpled detective practically invented the style that Peacock's Poker Face has recently revived: a crime (usually a murder) is committed, the viewers know whodunnit, and Columbo has to solve it. Early on in any given episode, we get to watch the crime being committed, though we don't always know the motive. The challenge isn't to figure out the culprit, but to discover exactly how TV's greatest detective is going to solve the case. You can stream Columbo here.

Architectural education is an important part of becoming an architect. It provides a foundation in art and architectural history, basic concepts of design, and foundational technical knowledge. It promotes critical thinking, examines social and economic complexities, and encourages creativity and teamwork. I may be biased, but I believe the camaraderie and pride that are part of architectural students’ design studio experience are unmatched by any other educational program.    In this issue of the AIA Canada Journal, Pauline Thimm, Hannah Allawi and I reached out to schools of architecture from across the country. Our conversations centred on research themes in today’s design studios, with a focus on housing affordability. Students and faculties are actively engaging in challenging the status quo on the shortage of housing. It takes a village to derive plausible solutions—and schools of architecture across the country are united in bringing their voices and minds to this pressing issue. In a Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC)-supported partnership, AIA Canada Society is also actively participating in research on designing inclusive, sustainable and healthy cities.  We want to thank all the educators who took time to speak with us and provide their invaluable insights.  -Dora Ng, AIA Canada Society President Rick Haldenby Professor, School of Architecture, University of Waterloo Rick Haldenby, FRAIC, served as Director of the School of Architecture at the University of Waterloo from 1988 to 2013, and founded the Waterloo Rome Program in 1979. Among many accomplishments, Haldenby was appointed to the Order of Canada in 2021, and has received the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Canadian Council of University Schools of Architecture, the Special Jury Prize at the Kitchener Waterloo Arts Awards, and the Dr. Jean Steckle Award for Heritage Education from the Waterloo Regional Heritage Foundation. Q: Kitchener-Waterloo is known as a university town that is home to top Ontario post-secondary institutions. Tell us a bit about the twin cities. A: The Waterloo Region’s industrial development began with the arrival of German-speaking immigrants in the 19th century. Its cities were literally “founded on factories.” Its prosperity was influenced by a rail-based transport system. In the late 19th century, the extension of the Grand Trunk Railway contributed to the industrialization of the area. In the 1950s, visionary community leaders made concerted efforts to build educational infrastructure, and in just a few years created the University of Waterloo, Wilfrid Laurier University and Conestoga College. The region experienced significant growth in manufacturing industries, insurance companies, and high-tech businesses over time. Home to two universities and a college, it is an education hub that attracts talents and businesses, which increases the demand for housing for students and families. The once-suburban neighbourhood of Northdale, surrounded by these post-secondary institutions, saw a surge in student population in the early 2000s, including a large percentage of international students. We saw a building boom to increase medium-density housing like stacked townhomes and row houses, as well as taller buildings up to 30+ stories in what was once a primarily low-density town. Q:  Like the building boom in Waterloo, we saw many residential high-rises going up in the GTA, but this growth still does not adequately address housing demand. In many cities across Canada, there are unprecedented housing issues including affordability and homelessness. What do you see emerging as key areas of interest and inquiry among students at your school? Is housing one of them? A: Connection between affordability and homelessness is not a one-to-one problem. The housing crisis can have many dimensions. In our undergraduate design studios, we are laying the groundwork for approaches to affordability, environmental responsibility and social justice. Many of my colleagues and graduate students at the University of Waterloo are involved in various research studies, exhibitions and campaigns, including the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. We also try to keep a balance to cover diverse topics in architecture, including housing. Second- and third-year design studios focus on urban intensification amid the building boom, enabling students to discuss ideas for keeping cities habitable and attractive for future growth. Design studios have also worked with the local chapter of Habitat for Humanity to support the ambitious program to build affordable housing for families in need. In partnership with the City of Cambridge, Waterloo architecture students designed and built tiny homes as prototypes for emergency shelter. Photo courtesy University of Waterloo Q: Any examples of collaboration between studio projects and practicing professionals in tackling the housing crisis? A: Through collaboration and communication with the community, the School of Architecture has engaged with social housing agencies, municipality planning authorities, Indigenous groups and aging-in-place consultants to develop housing solutions for a diverse population including seniors. Moving the School of Architecture from Waterloo to Cambridge in 2004 was a communal project with great support from the City of Cambridge. Occupying the repurposed silk mill in Cambridge, the school aims to be the design campus for the city to allow exchange of creative ideas and intellectual stimulation. Since the move, we have had many opportunities to collaborate and work closely with the municipality. The Tiny Homes project is an initiative in partnership with the City of Cambridge, whereby Waterloo architecture students were engaged to design and build prototype tiny homes that offer practical, cost-effective and dignified emergency housing solutions. It is an example of collaboration that makes a meaningful difference.  Photo by Danielle Sneesby Shauna Mallory-Hill Associate Professor and Associate Dean of Research, Faculty of Architecture, University of Manitoba Shauna Mallory-Hill, PhD, is currently Associate Professor and Associate Dean of Research at the University of Manitoba’s Faculty of Architecture. Her 25-year-long career spans teaching, research and advocacy, with a focus on building systems, universal and sustainable design, as well as building performance evaluation. Her sponsored research includes accessible design, along with post-occupancy work on how sustainably designed environments impact human health and productivity. Q: How is The University of Manitoba Faculty of Architecture (FAUM) specifically engaging in design explorations addressing housing?  A: In addition to hosting public events and delivering focused design studios, we are actively engaged and support research collaborations including funded research with the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) and the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC). We are also committed to partnering and working with communities.    In 2022, U of M professor Lancelot Coar’s undergraduate studio engaged with One House Many Nations to develop a mobile design and construction trailer for on-site design-build work. Photo by Lancelot Coar One House Many Nations (OHMN) originally started as a grassroots movement to shed light on the housing crisis faced by Indigenous communities.  For the past four years, OHMN, led by Dr. Alex Wilson and Sylvia McAdam, has been working with faculty and students from FAUM, houseless First Nations youth, and students at Saskatoon’s Nutana Collegiate to design and construct small, affordable homes that are trucked to remote Indigenous communities in Northern Saskatchewan. After a house is delivered, it is occupied by one of the youth participants. Each year, another house is built, informed by post-occupancy data that was collected on the previous year’s house(s).  First Nations youth participants have learned to advocate for community needs while gaining skills and knowledge about home-building and maintenance.  Lancelot Coar’s 2022 undergraduate architecture studio engaged with OHMN to create a mobile design lab that can be brought onsite to design-build in First Nations communities. OHMN’s work was exhibited at the Canadian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale of Architecture in 2023.    Q: What are key areas of interest and inquiry among students at your school? Is housing one of them?  A: We are seeing that this generation is increasingly concerned about what is happening to the world—concerns about sustainability, housing, and food deserts are paramount. Students want to work on things that are meaningful. Students also really embrace hands-on learning. Any time students are encouraged and supported to engage with community, they feel like they are making a difference.     Here in Winnipeg, we can all see the encampments of the unhoused. It is apparent that there is work to do to solve this dilemma.This past year, one of our housing-themed studios worked with a local grassroots organization, St. Boniface Street Links, in the design and construction of a prototype transitional house as a safer interim housing solution. This housing project ultimately was built and included as part of the annual Warming Huts design competition at the Forks. Q: Are there any barriers to collaborating in this way, involving practitioners and real community groups? A: We often get groups who approach us to collaborate. We need to be clear that we are not providing a design service, but we are committed to the exploration of ideas and working together on important problems.     It is important to me that doing housing research work in collaboration with Indigenous communities is respectful, responsible and reciprocal. Ensuring that some benefit of the research stays with the community is crucial, given the long history of research involving Indigenous populations where this did not happen. A willingness to listen and understand community priorities and context—and adapt—is key.  It can be difficult for some to have enough capacity to deal with added administration (meetings, paperwork, report writing, etc.); a local liaison is helpful.  The Wîkiwin student-built house is part of an ongoing collaboration with Kawéchiwasik Development Corporation at York Factory First Nation. Photo by Shauna Mallory-Hill Q: Some of your current research and design work is supported by the CMHC Housing Supply Challenge. Can you tell us a bit about that project?  A: The CMHC funding in part supports the Wîkiwin Training Enterprise of York Factory First Nation project, geared to building healthy homes by leveraging local resources and tradespeople in collaboration with the Kawéchiwasik Development Corporation. The purpose is to provide design education and construction skills in the northern communities where they are needed. A key goal is that kids won’t need to leave their communities to get skills, and communities can develop capacity to increase their self-sufficiency.    In collaboration with FAUM, the project will include a comprehensive education model based on a co-created curriculum, training programs, housing designs and research on building materials. Students earn micro-credentials through distance education to get basic training in design and construction, or have the opportunity to work as research assistants to assist with collection of data, such as indoor air quality.     Focusing on sustainable construction techniques, using local materials like stone and wood, the initiative promises to employ residents, cut production costs, and enhance housing quality. Additionally, the creation of a year-round skilled trades school facility and housing for students and teachers will boost the local labour force.    Stage 2 of the project involves the building of the Wîkiwin skilled trades training and research facility and dormitory. This phase will also see the expansion of the educational curriculum in partnership with the University of Manitoba, ultimately increasing the labour force capacity of York Factory First Nation and creating more opportunities for its youth.  Sasha Tsenkova Professor of Planning and Director of the Cities, Policy & Planning Lab at the School of Architecture, Planning & Landscape (SAPL), University of Calgary Sasha Tsenkova, PhD, is a professor at the School of Architecture, Planning & Landscape at the University of Calgary. With a background in architecture, urbanism, and planning, her work spans over 30 years of research, teaching, and professional practice, focusing on creating more inclusive and sustainable urban environments. She is a Fellow of the Canadian Institute of Planners and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada/Academy of Social Sciences. Q: Major cities across Canada are seeing unprecedented housing issues. As an educator, what have you seen in research or studio projects that tackle these issues?    A: We are a nation of suburban homeowners, where much of the wealth creation in the urban system is driven by investment in housing. Today, income and wealth inequality in Canadian cities is higher than ever before, which is exacerbated by the suburban homeownership model. In cities, newcomers to the housing market—young and old—face incredible affordability constraints. Homelessness has grown exponentially and homeownership is not within the reach of the middle class. In the design world, we must begin to address, through systemic intervention, these challenges. Many of our research and studio projects focus on sustainable urbanism through designs  that explore strategies to provide affordable homes across the income spectrum and embrace different types of housing.      We cannot continue to replicate a model of postwar city building that no longer serves the needs of the people. We encourage students to learn from successful cities in Europe, Latin America, and the United States, where a more systematic approach to neighbourhood design and redevelopment allows various types of housing to be built along the same street within a community. This is a different approach to growth premised on urban regeneration and intensification, where people come before cars and community identity evolves over time.   Q: Any examples of collaboration between studio projects and practicing professionals in tackling the housing crisis?  A: We focus on community-engaged scholarship, research and teaching at SAPL. Integration with communities of practice is necessary, but so is a direct relationship with clients, so that we situate our studio projects in the real-world. The housing crisis is multi-faceted and future professionals need to be aware of the complexity of design intervention—solutions require a nexus of policy, planning and design approaches. In a graduate school, we must prepare aspiring designers, architects and planners to embrace these challenges.      The interface with critical practice is the ultimate test for us to remain relevant and committed to innovation and excellence within the realm of what we can control. Studio teaching needs to address housing affordability in a systematic way, as it will make a critical difference within Canadian society and will define the future of our cities. This requires a much stronger emphasis on sustainable urbanism and community-based projects.  Q: What policies do you feel cities in Canada should create or address to aid in addressing the housing crisis and homelessness?  A: The planning regulation, upzoning, and permitting processes can be improved to enhance infill housing, gentle density and inner-city intensification. Recognizing that cities and neighbourhoods need to be built for people and not for cars requires a focus on transit-oriented development in strategic locations where low-density retail, industrial and housing sites can be redeveloped to become mixed-use urban villages with a variety of housing types. Changes to minimum parking standards and lot coverage can energize the infusion of missing middle housing to create opportunities for multi-generational living, cohousing and home sharing with renters. But the real difference in addressing the homelessness and affordability crisis is the renewed investment into affordable housing through partnerships of federal, provincial and municipal governments with non-profit organizations. We need to grow this segment of the housing market and to make sure that it is an integral part of our urban neighbourhoods through the design process. Q: What role do you think schools of architecture and design have in tackling the housing crisis in Canada?  A: We need to make a major commitment to building knowledge and capacity that focuses on solutions to the housing crisis in our curriculum. Design thinking is premised on innovation; it is part of the competency, creativity and collaboration that we try to instill in future professionals. Architects today are absent from the design of neighbourhoods on the periphery of our cities. We need to bring back that creativity and the knowledge of architects, planners, and designers, and develop the prototypes that will provide solutions to the housing crisis.     SAPL is moving downtown so that we can be a part of downtown rebuilding and innovation. Our adaptive reuse of existing office space in Calgary’s downtown will provide opportunities to connect to local businesses and residents and offer immersion in city life that is critical for our students. Our school will be a living urban design lab, where we embrace social justice, community-inspired design work and collaborate with different communities of practice to demonstrate viable solutions for changing cities and changing societies.   Sara Stevens Associate Professor & Chair – Urban Design at the School of Architecture & Landscape Architecture (SALA), University of British Columbia Sara Stevens is an architectural historian and Associate Professor at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. Her book Developing Expertise (Yale University Press, 2016) studies real estate development in 20th-century American cities. She is a member of the collective Architects Against Housing Alienation, curators of the Canada Pavilion at the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. Q:  Major cities across Canada are seeing unprecedented housing issues (affordability issues and homelessness). As an educator, what have you seen in research or studio projects that tackle these issues?  A: There are so many great examples of design studios in Canada that are looking at housing challenges, such as the ‘Not for Sale’ study abroad course on contemporary housing that recently won the ACSA’s 2024 Architectural Education Award. McGill has a long history of housing research with the Minimum Cost Housing Group, which was the subject of a recent exhibition curated by Ipek Türeli. The work of Shawn Bailey and Lancelot Coar at the University of Manitoba is bringing really innovative pedagogy to the question of housing for Indigenous communities to design schools.  Q: Any examples of collaboration between studio projects and practicing professionals in tackling the housing crisis?  A: At UBC, questions around missing middle housing brought forth a collaboration between Haeccity Studio Architects and UBC students that resulted in a publication of the students’ work, co-sponsored by SALA and the Urbanarium, an organization in Vancouver that is a forum for sharing ideas about city building, particularly around climate change and housing affordability. The Urbananium’s design competitions have focused on missing middle housing, mixed-use neighbourhoods, and the codes and regulations that are barriers to housing affordability. Their current competition, Decoding Timber Towers, is focused on prefab and mass timber housing.  Q: What policies do you feel cities in Canada should create or address to aid in the housing crisis and homelessness?  A: I think that Canada needs to take UNDRIP and the TRC Calls to Action seriously. We can’t separate the issue of housing for Indigenous people, and the history of colonization that it’s part of, from the housing challenges everyone else faces. The United Nations Housing as a Human Right work is a great resource on this, as their work also points to the problems of financialization and the effect this has had on renters, social housing, and un-housed folks.  The Land Back Courtyard was part of the Not For Sale exhibition at the Canada Pavilion in the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. Photo by Maris Mezulis Q: What role do you think schools of architecture and design have in tackling the housing crisis in Canada? A: Schools of architecture and design can play an important role by educating students about the role of architects in the housing crisis in Canada. We need the next generation of architects to understand that they have a part to play. It’s not an issue that can be solved through policy and the market alone: their expertise in design, which of course touches policy and works with the private sector, is inherently part of this issue.     To develop deeper conversations around this, I am working with collaborators in the collective Architects Against Housing Alienation to organize a super-studio across Canada for the next school year (25-26) called “End Housing Alienation Now!” that is inviting all schools of architecture to run studios on a shared set of themes and principles. (This builds off of the exhibition and campaign we did for the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale, which the teaching award I mentioned is also related to.) We have commitments from almost all the schools already, and have hosted a number of conversations with people from the schools to develop how this will work, balancing what is shared vs. independent, the different schedules and levels of students, etc.      For these studios, one ambition is that the studios work with local activists, advocates, and professional practices to show students how important these kinds of collaborations can be, and how important embedded local knowledge is. We hope to share resources and create opportunities for students to connect across geographies to ensure that many, many people with lots of passion and expertise are focused on this topic.     As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine  The post AIA Canada Journal: Canadian educators on housing affordability appeared first on Canadian Architect.

Credit: Ian Moore / Mashable Composite; Goodboy Picture Company / E+ / pialhovik / iStock / Getty Images May is National Masturbation Month, and we're celebrating with Feeling Yourself, a series exploring the finer points of self-pleasure. When I look back at pictures of myself in my early 20s, I see a confident young woman who was willing to talk about anything with anyone. But behind closed doors, I was hiding a secret shame that totally contradicted my public brand. I couldn't orgasm — not with a partner, not on my own.There had been fleeting attempts over the years to get the ol' engine rolling. I thought I could reason my way to climax: the internet, with its endless resources in the form of Reddit threads, message boards, and YouTube videos, seemed like the place to go. I turned online for information, emotional (first-person narratives from others who struggled) and practical (sex toys and tutorials). Nothing helped. In fact, all the accumulating knowledge only served to make me feel worse. For it to finally happen, at the age of 25, I had to strip everything back and take my sex drive fully offline for the first time.Failing to climaxThere's a scene in Eve Ensler's legendary play The Vagina Monologues when the audience hears from a woman who didn't have an orgasm until she was 72. "When she finally found her clitoris, she said she cried," the introduction goes. I remember hearing those words at the age of 18 and feeling a fluttering sense of recognition. Then came the chaser: dear god, please let me have one before I'm a septuagenarian. You May Also Like At that age, the inability to orgasm wasn't something that surprised me all that much. I'd read enough teen magazines, seen enough Sex and the City, to know all about the orgasm gap, and that 61 percent of men orgasm every time they have sex compared to 30 percent of women.Multiple studies have found that women are more likely to orgasm during masturbation than intercourse; a similarly consistent finding is that 10 percent of women never orgasm, no matter the circumstances.Yet as I moved through my twenties and failed to rectify the problem, I realised the friends I'd once bonded over this experience with weren't struggling anymore. I felt likeBut as a forthright young feminist on the cusp between the Gen Z and millennial generations, I was also unofficially educated under the tutelage of sex education YouTubers like Shan Boodram, Laci Green, and Hannah Witton. They taught me about the importance of people with vulvas knowing their bodies and having the confidence to tell sexual partners if they weren't getting them off. I spread their message far and wide. Female pleasure was so my brand that a close male friend once gave me a T-shirt with the words "The Future is Female (Ejaculation)" as a Secret Santa gift. I laughed, then went to the bathroom and cried, so deeply full of shame at the disconnect between my public confidence and inward inadequacy.Theoretically speaking, I knew just about everything there was to know about the orgasm…apart from how to have one myself. Very few people, beyond a handful of friends and former partners, knew about my struggle with anorgasmia (where people struggle to climax even with the application of sexual stimulation). I was scared of speaking the words "I can't come" into reality, or of feeling like even more of a failure if they checked in on my progress in the future and I had to tell them that no, I still couldn't.  Theoretically speaking, I knew just about everything there was to know about the orgasm…apart from how to have one myself. As Emily Nagoski writes in her bestselling book Come As You Are, so much of the female orgasm is in the mind. Nagoski theorises that female sexual pleasure has dual controls — an accelerator to turn you on and a brake to turn you off — and that balance is needed to achieve orgasm. But my brake was hyper-sensitive thanks toSex toys felt like a good starting point (god forbid I actually touch myself!), and my limited student budget meant I wanted a vibrator that gave a good bang for my buck, so to speak. I'd spend hours trawling through positive customer reviews for phrases like "can't come" or "never usually orgasm," hoping the same would happen for me if I purchased a clitoral stimulator or CBD lube. When it didn't, I felt more frustrated than ever. Mashable Trend Report: Coming Soon! Decode what’s viral, what’s next, and what it all means. Sign up for Mashable’s weekly Trend Report newsletter. By clicking Sign Me Up, you confirm you are 16+ and agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. Thanks for signing up! What I was searching for was a sense of recognition — an "oh, I'm not alone in this" feeling that my friends, while empathetic, understandably couldn't provide. (Yet whenever I now mention to friends that I didn't have an orgasm until I was 25, similar stories are divulged.) So I looked further afield, scouring message board threads and online articles for narratives from people who'd not been able to come either. The snatched moments of understanding made me feel less alone, albeit not necessarily always better.The next approach was more unconventional. Two friends bought me a subscription to OMGYes, the adult sex education website dedicated to facilitating female pleasure. Initially, I was embarrassed that it had come to this, but I gave it a go. A membership provided access to a library of practical (and extremely NSFW) tutorials on different masturbation techniques. I tried to follow along, but lacked perseverance and was quick to abandon the mission when things didn't happen immediately.At every stage, my attempts to orgasm were hindered by these deeply rooted feelings of shame and inadequacy, and a fear of feeling like even more of a failure should I try and not succeed. I knew I was missing out on an integral part of the human experience, but once the terrifying words "you're going to be on your deathbed never having had an orgasm" enter the mind, they're hard to shake. In order to halt this nihilistic spiral, I stopped trying altogether. It wasn't all bad. The sex, with both long-term and casual partners,So the problem bubbled away beneath the surface, rectifying it as simply not a priority. As with much of life, the arrival of COVID-19 changed things. I remember turning 25 and looking down the barrel of a new year and a third lockdown in the UK. I'm officially in my mid-twenties, I thought. If not now, when? Those interconnected feelings of embarrassment and failure were clearly holding me back. If I was going to figure out how to orgasm, that would only be achieved by removing expectation; expectation that, I realised, was coming directly from the internet aids I'd sought out for help. I needed to strip away the technological trappings and do the one very simple thing I'd been so scared to do: touch myself, and do it consistently. Related Stories What finally helped me orgasmI set myself a challenge. Every day, I would put my phone on the other side of the room and masturbate without sex toys.think these faint flutters were orgasms, and briefly returned to the message boards to see if others had experienced anything similar. Nobody described my exact feelings, but I kept at it.It was a conversation with a close friend, a doctor, that made the most marked difference. I told her about my current state, where I wasn't sure whether I was experiencing an orgasm or not. "You know if you want that to count, it counts," she told me. For the first time, someone was saying that I was on the right path, and not crashing into a wall. Without being dramatic (although said friend still laughs about how I credit her with my first orgasm), those words triggered a switch in my brain. As soon as I stopped feeling like I was foolish for even attempting to fight what I'd always perceived to be a losing battle, orgasms — proper ones, I was sure — came. I didn't cry or rush to text the friends greatly invested in my journey. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled, but it felt like a wholly personal achievement, and one I wanted to sit in for a while. SEE ALSO: What is a ruined orgasm? Mostly, the feeling was one of relief, the lifting of a huge weight from my chest and the dissipation of so much secret shame. I remember thinking that if I never had an orgasm again, I would be happy. Given how easy I was now finding it once that bridge was crossed, though, I was pretty sure that wasn't going to be the case. I remember thinking that if I never had an orgasm again, I would be happy. If there's one thing I now know, it's that you can't intellectualise, let alone buy, an orgasm. Sure, products and internet resources may help, and in those most isolating moments, it was undoubtedly useful to see my experience reflected back in others. But over time, I found the accumulation of all this knowledge only added to my feelings of failure. I had to remove it all from my mind and do the thing I was most scared to — confront my own body — to make it happen. Given all that, I'm aware of the irony of writing my own "how I finally had an orgasm" narrative. But I know a story like mine, as long as it wasn't dwelled on too long or used as a point of comparison, would have helped my younger self. It's why I keep far less personal aspects of my life out of my work, yet have always known I wanted to write about this experience someday. There are so few narratives about a total inability to orgasm out there. If you're reading this now and see something of yourself in my story, I hope it can provide some. It can happen for you — I truly believe that — whether you're 25 or 72. You'll get there. Isobel Lewis Isobel Lewis is a freelance culture and lifestyle journalist based in London. Formerly of The Independent, she now regularly writes for The New York Times, Service95, and Time Out.

WANTED, the International Contemporary Furniture Fair’s (ICFF) show-within-a-show, has grown almost exponentially since its first iteration as WantedDesign circa 2011, evolving so much so that the platform – with its iconic yellow walls nestled into the Javits Center – has become one of America’s go-to platforms to find emerging talent, tap into an intimate creative network, and discover trends ahead of the commercial industry. The 2025 showcase provided a wealth of inspiring design, we had to share a roundup all its own… Mockinbird Studio Epic in proportion, masterfully constructed, and officially record-making. The Farsala-based Mockinbird Studio showcased their most ambitious project to date: a monumental space divider. It is the largest – and arguably most beguiling – piece of contemporary marquetry artwork in existence, entirely designed and handcrafted in their Greece studio using traditional techniques. The object blends functionality with a narrative-driven, highly-aesthetic composition for the perfect piece of collectible design. Cuff Studio Cuff Studio presented their first solo exhibition, entitled “Within,” and unveiled select pieces from their Spring 2025 furniture collection of the same name. The C Back Lounge Chair – a trade exclusive – distills some of their favorite design gestures into an elegant, barely-their structural frame then paired with a sculptural waterfall seat and back cushion. Of note are the protruding curves that seemingly reach out for a handshake and the textural, pink upholstery seen here, which echoes triangular forms used across their broader portfolio. Mary Ratcliffe Studio + Anony Presenting together for their fourth ICFF, Mary Ratcliffe Studio (MRS) and Anony collaborated on a booth filled with sleek and sculptural, architecturally-inspired design objects. Their work is elementally complementary, which lent themselves to a more honest, fulsome showcase. MRS’s monumental furniture pieces are inspired by the physicality of material play, while Anony’s lighting takes inspiration from architectural gestures. Ready To Hang Mirrored surfaces are hard to resist, especially when their design makes you feel seen – figuratively speaking. Ready To Hang’s fashionable, ready-to-wear-inspired furnishings feel like fun accessories and an extension of personal style as they approach home decor through concepts found in styling for apparel. This year marked their ICFF debut with a highly curated showcase mixing classic pieces with a few concepts yet to come. UWU Studios Typically driven by a human-centered design ethos, multidisciplinary UWU Studios has expanded their scope to include the feline experience. Their UNU Cat Dreams product is equal parts pet play and collectible design, sure to please all parties. Even aesthetes without a furry friend can still appreciate its composition, blending surfaces, textures, colors, and forms for quite unique sculptural compositions. It’s an exemplary approach that elevates everyday objects to the venerable. Estudio PM Racking up multiple awards during the show – and rightfully so – Estudio PM demonstrated how fabric waste and unwanted textiles can be recontextualized within the realms of art and home furnishings. The duo behind the initiative created totems and garment-inspired side tables with the careful layering of reclaimed cloth. Noiro Studio Hand-blown glass lamps stood on various podiums in a curious display of artisanal lighting comprising colorful bases dotted with glass and stone orbs. Each globe’s curvature represented the fabric of spacetime, with precious objects are suspended within the glass shades – a steady reminder of our weight, and also insignificance, of our existence in the world. Noiro Studio plays with themes of heft and weightlessness, continuing to keep things relative. Ridezign Ridezign offers an ode to New York City. The Tesser Collection resembles skyscrapers in miniature blocks constructing cantilevered forms in multiple configurations and colors. These lamps leverage additive manufacturing making every piece made-to-order, reducing overstock, and ultimately eliminating the need for storage. The warm diffusion of the subsequent layers of material create lovely channels of light, adding to the spectacle of the city. Koba Furniture Koba Furniture is proud to create all elements for Series 02 within their Baltimore studio – except for the drawer pulls, shares designer Sam Acuff – a testament to the respect for craft that is clearly shown here. Jauntily stocky feet meet tiny tube legs, with a nicely balanced drawer set on top. Extra points for the elevated milk crate; it adds such a nice feel to the booth. 9 & 19 9 & 19 is back this year with organic shapes and cheeky details. Who doesn’t love an easter egg in design? From inlaid squiggles to handmade tiling, this collection offers a unique blend of customization and utility while remaining approachable and fun. Hannah Via Hannah Via brings some highly welcome fiber arts representation to WANTED, her tufted lamps bringing a sense of whimsy and possibility to the show. Sporting pops of scarlet, cobalt, and bronze, a light peach background acts as a pendant for a singular Edison bulb, which cases a cozy glow in an elegant connection to the warmth of the yarn it rests upon. Sawyer Made Lovingly crafted in Woodbury, Vermont, Sawyer Made is a second-generation family of woodworkers honoring the classic stance and build of a Windsor chair, but with a few modern updates. As the arm meets the back, the angle rotates 90 degrees offering a beautiful detail absent from most traditional Windsors. Like ballet, a combination of experienced craft and innate knowledge makes the hardest work look easy. Ora House Cobalt is back in a big way with Ora House, as evidenced by their removable upholstery panels that can be switched out to reflect any style or change in local decor. Playful, soft, and sturdy, the ottoman, bench, and hutch offer a fun way to sit, stay, and store. Daniel Gruetter Daniel Gruetter is a woodworker based in Toronto, Canada. Showing an elegant credenza created entirely out of the discarded offcuts from his practice, he upends what is considered valuable on a platform that inherently places value on everything. Employing wooden hinges takes the project to another level, letting a singular material do the talking through expert craftsmanship. Reces NYC With a nod to the cobalt we spotted around the show, Reces NYC wraps up our top picks for WANTED this year with a gestural upholstered piece. Elements extend in a satisfyingly solid manner to create an interesting and distinctly luxurious look users could get lost in. Check out out the rest of Design Milk’s NYCxDESIGN coverage here!