• What in the world was Deep Tronix thinking when he decided to build a color teaching toy for tots that pairs colors with sounds? Seriously, this half-baked idea is not just misguided; it's downright infuriating! Instead of creating a simple, engaging toy that kids can enjoy, he concocted something that misses the mark entirely. Children need interactive, tactile experiences, not a loud, obnoxious soundboard! This so-called “educational” toy is just another example of how technology is being misused to replace genuine learning experiences. Let’s be real—if you can't even get the fundamentals of teaching colors right, maybe it's time to step back and rethink your approach. This is not innovation; it’s a recipe for confusion!

    #
    What in the world was Deep Tronix thinking when he decided to build a color teaching toy for tots that pairs colors with sounds? Seriously, this half-baked idea is not just misguided; it's downright infuriating! Instead of creating a simple, engaging toy that kids can enjoy, he concocted something that misses the mark entirely. Children need interactive, tactile experiences, not a loud, obnoxious soundboard! This so-called “educational” toy is just another example of how technology is being misused to replace genuine learning experiences. Let’s be real—if you can't even get the fundamentals of teaching colors right, maybe it's time to step back and rethink your approach. This is not innovation; it’s a recipe for confusion! #
    HACKADAY.COM
    Building a Color Teaching Toy For Tots
    Last year, [Deep Tronix] wished to teach colors to his nephew. Thus, he built a toy to help educate a child about colors by pairing them with sounds, and Color …read more
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  • I can't believe I wasted my time trying Adobe's Fantasy Premier League logo generator! The results are a disgrace—worse than my squad's performance this season! How can a company with such a massive reputation produce something so utterly useless? It’s like they want us to relegate our creativity along with our teams! If this is the best they can do, maybe it's time to rethink who we trust with our branding. This is an absolute fail that leaves fans like me furious. Get it together, Adobe!

    #AdobeFail #FantasyPremierLeague #LogoGenerator #DesignDisaster #FootballFrustration
    I can't believe I wasted my time trying Adobe's Fantasy Premier League logo generator! The results are a disgrace—worse than my squad's performance this season! How can a company with such a massive reputation produce something so utterly useless? It’s like they want us to relegate our creativity along with our teams! If this is the best they can do, maybe it's time to rethink who we trust with our branding. This is an absolute fail that leaves fans like me furious. Get it together, Adobe! #AdobeFail #FantasyPremierLeague #LogoGenerator #DesignDisaster #FootballFrustration
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  • The 2025 One Hertz Challenge is here, inviting us to rethink the old jumping bean toy. Remember those things? They were supposed to be fun but ended up being... well, not so much. Now, with our grown-up skills, we’re meant to create a better version. Sounds nice, I guess. Who knows if it'll actually be better or just another way to waste time. Anyway, if you're into nostalgia and half-hearted projects, maybe check it out. Or don’t. It’s all pretty whatever.

    #OneHertzChallenge
    #JumpingBean
    #Nostalgia
    #ToyDesign
    #CreativeProjects
    The 2025 One Hertz Challenge is here, inviting us to rethink the old jumping bean toy. Remember those things? They were supposed to be fun but ended up being... well, not so much. Now, with our grown-up skills, we’re meant to create a better version. Sounds nice, I guess. Who knows if it'll actually be better or just another way to waste time. Anyway, if you're into nostalgia and half-hearted projects, maybe check it out. Or don’t. It’s all pretty whatever. #OneHertzChallenge #JumpingBean #Nostalgia #ToyDesign #CreativeProjects
    HACKADAY.COM
    2025 One Hertz Challenge: Building a Better Jumping Bean
    Do you feel nostalgia for a childhood novelty toy that had potential but ultimately fell short of its promise? Do you now have the skills to go make a better …read more
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  • Ah, the age of robots is upon us, and they’re eyeing the jobs we’d rather not touch—like wrench-turning and broom-pushing. Who needs a human's charming incompetence when you've got a shiny robot ready to do the grunt work? It’s almost tragic that the only thing standing between robots and their dream jobs is our reluctance to embrace our future overlords.

    Let’s be honest: if robots are taking over the jobs you can't stand, maybe it’s time to rethink your career choices. Who knew that the path to a stress-free life involved letting a robot take the wheel (or the broom)? Just remember to keep your resume handy—after all, someone has to be at the mercy of the machines.
    Ah, the age of robots is upon us, and they’re eyeing the jobs we’d rather not touch—like wrench-turning and broom-pushing. Who needs a human's charming incompetence when you've got a shiny robot ready to do the grunt work? It’s almost tragic that the only thing standing between robots and their dream jobs is our reluctance to embrace our future overlords. Let’s be honest: if robots are taking over the jobs you can't stand, maybe it’s time to rethink your career choices. Who knew that the path to a stress-free life involved letting a robot take the wheel (or the broom)? Just remember to keep your resume handy—after all, someone has to be at the mercy of the machines.
    HACKADAY.COM
    Robots Want the Jobs You Can’t Do
    There’s something ominous about robots taking over jobs that humans are suited to do. Maybe you don’t want a job turning a wrench or pushing a broom, but someone does. …read more
    1 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 0 previzualizare
  • It's infuriating how people keep asking, "How to connect ChatGPT with Google Drive and Docs?" Seriously? Are we still struggling with basic tech integration in 2023? The fact that we need to spell out this connection speaks volumes about our tech literacy! Google Drive and Docs are supposed to enhance productivity, not create confusion. Why are we still fumbling around while there are countless resources available? It's time to wake up and get with it! If you can't figure this out, maybe it's time to rethink your tech choices. Enough is enough!

    #TechFrustration
    #ChatGPT
    #GoogleDrive
    #Productivity
    #IntegrationIssues
    It's infuriating how people keep asking, "How to connect ChatGPT with Google Drive and Docs?" Seriously? Are we still struggling with basic tech integration in 2023? The fact that we need to spell out this connection speaks volumes about our tech literacy! Google Drive and Docs are supposed to enhance productivity, not create confusion. Why are we still fumbling around while there are countless resources available? It's time to wake up and get with it! If you can't figure this out, maybe it's time to rethink your tech choices. Enough is enough! #TechFrustration #ChatGPT #GoogleDrive #Productivity #IntegrationIssues
    ARABHARDWARE.NET
    كيف تربط ChatGPT مع تطبيقات Google Drive وDocs؟
    The post كيف تربط ChatGPT مع تطبيقات Google Drive وDocs؟ appeared first on عرب هاردوير.
    1 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 0 previzualizare
  • What a joke! "Eastern: une comédie déjantée de l’ESMA dans le Far West!" Seriously? This so-called "comedy" is nothing but a lazy rehash of Western tropes, wrapped in a flimsy character design that feels more like a desperate parody than a genuine tribute. Who thought it was a good idea to turn a classic genre into a chaotic mess where the only thing standing tall is the absurdity? The students of ESMA need to rethink their approach rather than throwing together clichés and calling it creativity. This isn't art; it's a disgrace! We deserve better than this shoddy execution masquerading as entertainment!

    #Eastern #ESMA #WesternComedy #Critique #ArtFail
    What a joke! "Eastern: une comédie déjantée de l’ESMA dans le Far West!" Seriously? This so-called "comedy" is nothing but a lazy rehash of Western tropes, wrapped in a flimsy character design that feels more like a desperate parody than a genuine tribute. Who thought it was a good idea to turn a classic genre into a chaotic mess where the only thing standing tall is the absurdity? The students of ESMA need to rethink their approach rather than throwing together clichés and calling it creativity. This isn't art; it's a disgrace! We deserve better than this shoddy execution masquerading as entertainment! #Eastern #ESMA #WesternComedy #Critique #ArtFail
    Eastern : une comédie déjantée de l’ESMA dans le Far West !
    Les élèves de l’ESMA nous ont proposé de nombreuses comédies et parodies au fil des ans. Une tradition qui se poursuit avec Eastern, qui revisite les codes du western pour vous proposer un concept décalé, jouant sur le character design et les s
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  • Why Designers Get Stuck In The Details And How To Stop

    You’ve drawn fifty versions of the same screen — and you still hate every one of them. Begrudgingly, you pick three, show them to your product manager, and hear: “Looks cool, but the idea doesn’t work.” Sound familiar?
    In this article, I’ll unpack why designers fall into detail work at the wrong moment, examining both process pitfalls and the underlying psychological reasons, as understanding these traps is the first step to overcoming them. I’ll also share tactics I use to climb out of that trap.
    Reason #1 You’re Afraid To Show Rough Work
    We designers worship detail. We’re taught that true craft equals razor‑sharp typography, perfect grids, and pixel precision. So the minute a task arrives, we pop open Figma and start polishing long before polish is needed.
    I’ve skipped the sketch phase more times than I care to admit. I told myself it would be faster, yet I always ended up spending hours producing a tidy mock‑up when a scribbled thumbnail would have sparked a five‑minute chat with my product manager. Rough sketches felt “unprofessional,” so I hid them.
    The cost? Lost time, wasted energy — and, by the third redo, teammates were quietly wondering if I even understood the brief.
    The real problem here is the habit: we open Figma and start perfecting the UI before we’ve even solved the problem.
    So why do we hide these rough sketches? It’s not just a bad habit or plain silly. There are solid psychological reasons behind it. We often just call it perfectionism, but it’s deeper than wanting things neat. Digging into the psychologyshows there are a couple of flavors driving this:

    Socially prescribed perfectionismIt’s that nagging feeling that everyone else expects perfect work from you, which makes showing anything rough feel like walking into the lion’s den.
    Self-oriented perfectionismWhere you’re the one setting impossibly high standards for yourself, leading to brutal self-criticism if anything looks slightly off.

    Either way, the result’s the same: showing unfinished work feels wrong, and you miss out on that vital early feedback.
    Back to the design side, remember that clients rarely see architects’ first pencil sketches, but these sketches still exist; they guide structural choices before the 3D render. Treat your thumbnails the same way — artifacts meant to collapse uncertainty, not portfolio pieces. Once stakeholders see the upside, roughness becomes a badge of speed, not sloppiness. So, the key is to consciously make that shift:
    Treat early sketches as disposable tools for thinking and actively share them to get feedback faster.

    Reason #2: You Fix The Symptom, Not The Cause
    Before tackling any task, we need to understand what business outcome we’re aiming for. Product managers might come to us asking to enlarge the payment button in the shopping cart because users aren’t noticing it. The suggested solution itself isn’t necessarily bad, but before redesigning the button, we should ask, “What data suggests they aren’t noticing it?” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you shouldn’t trust your product manager. On the contrary, these questions help ensure you’re on the same page and working with the same data.
    From my experience, here are several reasons why users might not be clicking that coveted button:

    Users don’t understand that this step is for payment.
    They understand it’s about payment but expect order confirmation first.
    Due to incorrect translation, users don’t understand what the button means.
    Lack of trust signals.
    Unexpected additional coststhat appear at this stage.
    Technical issues.

    Now, imagine you simply did what the manager suggested. Would you have solved the problem? Hardly.
    Moreover, the responsibility for the unresolved issue would fall on you, as the interface solution lies within the design domain. The product manager actually did their job correctly by identifying a problem: suspiciously, few users are clicking the button.
    Psychologically, taking on this bigger role isn’t easy. It means overcoming the fear of making mistakes and the discomfort of exploring unclear problems rather than just doing tasks. This shift means seeing ourselves as partners who create value — even if it means fighting a hesitation to question product managers— and understanding that using our product logic expertise proactively is crucial for modern designers.
    There’s another critical reason why we, designers, need to be a bit like product managers: the rise of AI. I deliberately used a simple example about enlarging a button, but I’m confident that in the near future, AI will easily handle routine design tasks. This worries me, but at the same time, I’m already gladly stepping into the product manager’s territory: understanding product and business metrics, formulating hypotheses, conducting research, and so on. It might sound like I’m taking work away from PMs, but believe me, they undoubtedly have enough on their plates and are usually more than happy to delegate some responsibilities to designers.
    Reason #3: You’re Solving The Wrong Problem
    Before solving anything, ask whether the problem even deserves your attention.
    During a major home‑screen redesign, our goal was to drive more users into paid services. The initial hypothesis — making service buttons bigger and brighter might help returning users — seemed reasonable enough to test. However, even when A/B testsshowed minimal impact, we continued to tweak those buttons.
    Only later did it click: the home screen isn’t the place to sell; visitors open the app to start, not to buy. We removed that promo block, and nothing broke. Contextual entry points deeper into the journey performed brilliantly. Lesson learned:
    Without the right context, any visual tweak is lipstick on a pig.

    Why did we get stuck polishing buttons instead of stopping sooner? It’s easy to get tunnel vision. Psychologically, it’s likely the good old sunk cost fallacy kicking in: we’d already invested time in the buttons, so stopping felt like wasting that effort, even though the data wasn’t promising.
    It’s just easier to keep fiddling with something familiar than to admit we need a new plan. Perhaps the simple question I should have asked myself when results stalled was: “Are we optimizing the right thing or just polishing something that fundamentally doesn’t fit the user’s primary goal here?” That alone might have saved hours.
    Reason #4: You’re Drowning In Unactionable Feedback
    We all discuss our work with colleagues. But here’s a crucial point: what kind of question do you pose to kick off that discussion? If your go-to is “What do you think?” well, that question might lead you down a rabbit hole of personal opinions rather than actionable insights. While experienced colleagues will cut through the noise, others, unsure what to evaluate, might comment on anything and everything — fonts, button colors, even when you desperately need to discuss a user flow.
    What matters here are two things:

    The question you ask,
    The context you give.

    That means clearly stating the problem, what you’ve learned, and how your idea aims to fix it.
    For instance:
    “The problem is our payment conversion rate has dropped by X%. I’ve interviewed users and found they abandon payment because they don’t understand how the total amount is calculated. My solution is to show a detailed cost breakdown. Do you think this actually solves the problem for them?”

    Here, you’ve stated the problem, shared your insight, explained your solution, and asked a direct question. It’s even better if you prepare a list of specific sub-questions. For instance: “Are all items in the cost breakdown clear?” or “Does the placement of this breakdown feel intuitive within the payment flow?”
    Another good habit is to keep your rough sketches and previous iterations handy. Some of your colleagues’ suggestions might be things you’ve already tried. It’s great if you can discuss them immediately to either revisit those ideas or definitively set them aside.
    I’m not a psychologist, but experience tells me that, psychologically, the reluctance to be this specific often stems from a fear of our solution being rejected. We tend to internalize feedback: a seemingly innocent comment like, “Have you considered other ways to organize this section?” or “Perhaps explore a different structure for this part?” can instantly morph in our minds into “You completely messed up the structure. You’re a bad designer.” Imposter syndrome, in all its glory.
    So, to wrap up this point, here are two recommendations:

    Prepare for every design discussion.A couple of focused questions will yield far more valuable input than a vague “So, what do you think?”.
    Actively work on separating feedback on your design from your self-worth.If a mistake is pointed out, acknowledge it, learn from it, and you’ll be less likely to repeat it. This is often easier said than done. For me, it took years of working with a psychotherapist. If you struggle with this, I sincerely wish you strength in overcoming it.

    Reason #5 You’re Just Tired
    Sometimes, the issue isn’t strategic at all — it’s fatigue. Fussing over icon corners can feel like a cozy bunker when your brain is fried. There’s a name for this: decision fatigue. Basically, your brain’s battery for hard thinking is low, so it hides out in the easy, comfy zone of pixel-pushing.
    A striking example comes from a New York Times article titled “Do You Suffer From Decision Fatigue?.” It described how judges deciding on release requests were far more likely to grant release early in the daycompared to late in the daysimply because their decision-making energy was depleted. Luckily, designers rarely hold someone’s freedom in their hands, but the example dramatically shows how fatigue can impact our judgment and productivity.
    What helps here:

    Swap tasks.Trade tickets with another designer; novelty resets your focus.
    Talk to another designer.If NDA permits, ask peers outside the team for a sanity check.
    Step away.Even a ten‑minute walk can do more than a double‑shot espresso.

    By the way, I came up with these ideas while walking around my office. I was lucky to work near a river, and those short walks quickly turned into a helpful habit.

    And one more trick that helps me snap out of detail mode early: if I catch myself making around 20 little tweaks — changing font weight, color, border radius — I just stop. Over time, it turned into a habit. I have a similar one with Instagram: by the third reel, my brain quietly asks, “Wait, weren’t we working?” Funny how that kind of nudge saves a ton of time.
    Four Steps I Use to Avoid Drowning In Detail
    Knowing these potential traps, here’s the practical process I use to stay on track:
    1. Define the Core Problem & Business Goal
    Before anything, dig deep: what’s the actual problem we’re solving, not just the requested task or a surface-level symptom? Ask ‘why’ repeatedly. What user pain or business need are we addressing? Then, state the clear business goal: “What metric am I moving, and do we have data to prove this is the right lever?” If retention is the goal, decide whether push reminders, gamification, or personalised content is the best route. The wrong lever, or tackling a symptom instead of the cause, dooms everything downstream.
    2. Choose the MechanicOnce the core problem and goal are clear, lock the solution principle or ‘mechanic’ first. Going with a game layer? Decide if it’s leaderboards, streaks, or badges. Write it down. Then move on. No UI yet. This keeps the focus high-level before diving into pixels.
    3. Wireframe the Flow & Get Focused Feedback
    Now open Figma. Map screens, layout, and transitions. Boxes and arrows are enough. Keep the fidelity low so the discussion stays on the flow, not colour. Crucially, when you share these early wires, ask specific questions and provide clear contextto get actionable feedback, not just vague opinions.
    4. Polish the VisualsI only let myself tweak grids, type scales, and shadows after the flow is validated. If progress stalls, or before a major polish effort, I surface the work in a design critique — again using targeted questions and clear context — instead of hiding in version 47. This ensures detailing serves the now-validated solution.
    Even for something as small as a single button, running these four checkpoints takes about ten minutes and saves hours of decorative dithering.
    Wrapping Up
    Next time you feel the pull to vanish into mock‑ups before the problem is nailed down, pause and ask what you might be avoiding. Yes, that can expose an uncomfortable truth. But pausing to ask what you might be avoiding — maybe the fuzzy core problem, or just asking for tough feedback — gives you the power to face the real issue head-on. It keeps the project focused on solving the right problem, not just perfecting a flawed solution.
    Attention to detail is a superpower when used at the right moment. Obsessing over pixels too soon, though, is a bad habit and a warning light telling us the process needs a rethink.
    #why #designers #get #stuck #details
    Why Designers Get Stuck In The Details And How To Stop
    You’ve drawn fifty versions of the same screen — and you still hate every one of them. Begrudgingly, you pick three, show them to your product manager, and hear: “Looks cool, but the idea doesn’t work.” Sound familiar? In this article, I’ll unpack why designers fall into detail work at the wrong moment, examining both process pitfalls and the underlying psychological reasons, as understanding these traps is the first step to overcoming them. I’ll also share tactics I use to climb out of that trap. Reason #1 You’re Afraid To Show Rough Work We designers worship detail. We’re taught that true craft equals razor‑sharp typography, perfect grids, and pixel precision. So the minute a task arrives, we pop open Figma and start polishing long before polish is needed. I’ve skipped the sketch phase more times than I care to admit. I told myself it would be faster, yet I always ended up spending hours producing a tidy mock‑up when a scribbled thumbnail would have sparked a five‑minute chat with my product manager. Rough sketches felt “unprofessional,” so I hid them. The cost? Lost time, wasted energy — and, by the third redo, teammates were quietly wondering if I even understood the brief. The real problem here is the habit: we open Figma and start perfecting the UI before we’ve even solved the problem. So why do we hide these rough sketches? It’s not just a bad habit or plain silly. There are solid psychological reasons behind it. We often just call it perfectionism, but it’s deeper than wanting things neat. Digging into the psychologyshows there are a couple of flavors driving this: Socially prescribed perfectionismIt’s that nagging feeling that everyone else expects perfect work from you, which makes showing anything rough feel like walking into the lion’s den. Self-oriented perfectionismWhere you’re the one setting impossibly high standards for yourself, leading to brutal self-criticism if anything looks slightly off. Either way, the result’s the same: showing unfinished work feels wrong, and you miss out on that vital early feedback. Back to the design side, remember that clients rarely see architects’ first pencil sketches, but these sketches still exist; they guide structural choices before the 3D render. Treat your thumbnails the same way — artifacts meant to collapse uncertainty, not portfolio pieces. Once stakeholders see the upside, roughness becomes a badge of speed, not sloppiness. So, the key is to consciously make that shift: Treat early sketches as disposable tools for thinking and actively share them to get feedback faster. Reason #2: You Fix The Symptom, Not The Cause Before tackling any task, we need to understand what business outcome we’re aiming for. Product managers might come to us asking to enlarge the payment button in the shopping cart because users aren’t noticing it. The suggested solution itself isn’t necessarily bad, but before redesigning the button, we should ask, “What data suggests they aren’t noticing it?” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you shouldn’t trust your product manager. On the contrary, these questions help ensure you’re on the same page and working with the same data. From my experience, here are several reasons why users might not be clicking that coveted button: Users don’t understand that this step is for payment. They understand it’s about payment but expect order confirmation first. Due to incorrect translation, users don’t understand what the button means. Lack of trust signals. Unexpected additional coststhat appear at this stage. Technical issues. Now, imagine you simply did what the manager suggested. Would you have solved the problem? Hardly. Moreover, the responsibility for the unresolved issue would fall on you, as the interface solution lies within the design domain. The product manager actually did their job correctly by identifying a problem: suspiciously, few users are clicking the button. Psychologically, taking on this bigger role isn’t easy. It means overcoming the fear of making mistakes and the discomfort of exploring unclear problems rather than just doing tasks. This shift means seeing ourselves as partners who create value — even if it means fighting a hesitation to question product managers— and understanding that using our product logic expertise proactively is crucial for modern designers. There’s another critical reason why we, designers, need to be a bit like product managers: the rise of AI. I deliberately used a simple example about enlarging a button, but I’m confident that in the near future, AI will easily handle routine design tasks. This worries me, but at the same time, I’m already gladly stepping into the product manager’s territory: understanding product and business metrics, formulating hypotheses, conducting research, and so on. It might sound like I’m taking work away from PMs, but believe me, they undoubtedly have enough on their plates and are usually more than happy to delegate some responsibilities to designers. Reason #3: You’re Solving The Wrong Problem Before solving anything, ask whether the problem even deserves your attention. During a major home‑screen redesign, our goal was to drive more users into paid services. The initial hypothesis — making service buttons bigger and brighter might help returning users — seemed reasonable enough to test. However, even when A/B testsshowed minimal impact, we continued to tweak those buttons. Only later did it click: the home screen isn’t the place to sell; visitors open the app to start, not to buy. We removed that promo block, and nothing broke. Contextual entry points deeper into the journey performed brilliantly. Lesson learned: Without the right context, any visual tweak is lipstick on a pig. Why did we get stuck polishing buttons instead of stopping sooner? It’s easy to get tunnel vision. Psychologically, it’s likely the good old sunk cost fallacy kicking in: we’d already invested time in the buttons, so stopping felt like wasting that effort, even though the data wasn’t promising. It’s just easier to keep fiddling with something familiar than to admit we need a new plan. Perhaps the simple question I should have asked myself when results stalled was: “Are we optimizing the right thing or just polishing something that fundamentally doesn’t fit the user’s primary goal here?” That alone might have saved hours. Reason #4: You’re Drowning In Unactionable Feedback We all discuss our work with colleagues. But here’s a crucial point: what kind of question do you pose to kick off that discussion? If your go-to is “What do you think?” well, that question might lead you down a rabbit hole of personal opinions rather than actionable insights. While experienced colleagues will cut through the noise, others, unsure what to evaluate, might comment on anything and everything — fonts, button colors, even when you desperately need to discuss a user flow. What matters here are two things: The question you ask, The context you give. That means clearly stating the problem, what you’ve learned, and how your idea aims to fix it. For instance: “The problem is our payment conversion rate has dropped by X%. I’ve interviewed users and found they abandon payment because they don’t understand how the total amount is calculated. My solution is to show a detailed cost breakdown. Do you think this actually solves the problem for them?” Here, you’ve stated the problem, shared your insight, explained your solution, and asked a direct question. It’s even better if you prepare a list of specific sub-questions. For instance: “Are all items in the cost breakdown clear?” or “Does the placement of this breakdown feel intuitive within the payment flow?” Another good habit is to keep your rough sketches and previous iterations handy. Some of your colleagues’ suggestions might be things you’ve already tried. It’s great if you can discuss them immediately to either revisit those ideas or definitively set them aside. I’m not a psychologist, but experience tells me that, psychologically, the reluctance to be this specific often stems from a fear of our solution being rejected. We tend to internalize feedback: a seemingly innocent comment like, “Have you considered other ways to organize this section?” or “Perhaps explore a different structure for this part?” can instantly morph in our minds into “You completely messed up the structure. You’re a bad designer.” Imposter syndrome, in all its glory. So, to wrap up this point, here are two recommendations: Prepare for every design discussion.A couple of focused questions will yield far more valuable input than a vague “So, what do you think?”. Actively work on separating feedback on your design from your self-worth.If a mistake is pointed out, acknowledge it, learn from it, and you’ll be less likely to repeat it. This is often easier said than done. For me, it took years of working with a psychotherapist. If you struggle with this, I sincerely wish you strength in overcoming it. Reason #5 You’re Just Tired Sometimes, the issue isn’t strategic at all — it’s fatigue. Fussing over icon corners can feel like a cozy bunker when your brain is fried. There’s a name for this: decision fatigue. Basically, your brain’s battery for hard thinking is low, so it hides out in the easy, comfy zone of pixel-pushing. A striking example comes from a New York Times article titled “Do You Suffer From Decision Fatigue?.” It described how judges deciding on release requests were far more likely to grant release early in the daycompared to late in the daysimply because their decision-making energy was depleted. Luckily, designers rarely hold someone’s freedom in their hands, but the example dramatically shows how fatigue can impact our judgment and productivity. What helps here: Swap tasks.Trade tickets with another designer; novelty resets your focus. Talk to another designer.If NDA permits, ask peers outside the team for a sanity check. Step away.Even a ten‑minute walk can do more than a double‑shot espresso. By the way, I came up with these ideas while walking around my office. I was lucky to work near a river, and those short walks quickly turned into a helpful habit. And one more trick that helps me snap out of detail mode early: if I catch myself making around 20 little tweaks — changing font weight, color, border radius — I just stop. Over time, it turned into a habit. I have a similar one with Instagram: by the third reel, my brain quietly asks, “Wait, weren’t we working?” Funny how that kind of nudge saves a ton of time. Four Steps I Use to Avoid Drowning In Detail Knowing these potential traps, here’s the practical process I use to stay on track: 1. Define the Core Problem & Business Goal Before anything, dig deep: what’s the actual problem we’re solving, not just the requested task or a surface-level symptom? Ask ‘why’ repeatedly. What user pain or business need are we addressing? Then, state the clear business goal: “What metric am I moving, and do we have data to prove this is the right lever?” If retention is the goal, decide whether push reminders, gamification, or personalised content is the best route. The wrong lever, or tackling a symptom instead of the cause, dooms everything downstream. 2. Choose the MechanicOnce the core problem and goal are clear, lock the solution principle or ‘mechanic’ first. Going with a game layer? Decide if it’s leaderboards, streaks, or badges. Write it down. Then move on. No UI yet. This keeps the focus high-level before diving into pixels. 3. Wireframe the Flow & Get Focused Feedback Now open Figma. Map screens, layout, and transitions. Boxes and arrows are enough. Keep the fidelity low so the discussion stays on the flow, not colour. Crucially, when you share these early wires, ask specific questions and provide clear contextto get actionable feedback, not just vague opinions. 4. Polish the VisualsI only let myself tweak grids, type scales, and shadows after the flow is validated. If progress stalls, or before a major polish effort, I surface the work in a design critique — again using targeted questions and clear context — instead of hiding in version 47. This ensures detailing serves the now-validated solution. Even for something as small as a single button, running these four checkpoints takes about ten minutes and saves hours of decorative dithering. Wrapping Up Next time you feel the pull to vanish into mock‑ups before the problem is nailed down, pause and ask what you might be avoiding. Yes, that can expose an uncomfortable truth. But pausing to ask what you might be avoiding — maybe the fuzzy core problem, or just asking for tough feedback — gives you the power to face the real issue head-on. It keeps the project focused on solving the right problem, not just perfecting a flawed solution. Attention to detail is a superpower when used at the right moment. Obsessing over pixels too soon, though, is a bad habit and a warning light telling us the process needs a rethink. #why #designers #get #stuck #details
    SMASHINGMAGAZINE.COM
    Why Designers Get Stuck In The Details And How To Stop
    You’ve drawn fifty versions of the same screen — and you still hate every one of them. Begrudgingly, you pick three, show them to your product manager, and hear: “Looks cool, but the idea doesn’t work.” Sound familiar? In this article, I’ll unpack why designers fall into detail work at the wrong moment, examining both process pitfalls and the underlying psychological reasons, as understanding these traps is the first step to overcoming them. I’ll also share tactics I use to climb out of that trap. Reason #1 You’re Afraid To Show Rough Work We designers worship detail. We’re taught that true craft equals razor‑sharp typography, perfect grids, and pixel precision. So the minute a task arrives, we pop open Figma and start polishing long before polish is needed. I’ve skipped the sketch phase more times than I care to admit. I told myself it would be faster, yet I always ended up spending hours producing a tidy mock‑up when a scribbled thumbnail would have sparked a five‑minute chat with my product manager. Rough sketches felt “unprofessional,” so I hid them. The cost? Lost time, wasted energy — and, by the third redo, teammates were quietly wondering if I even understood the brief. The real problem here is the habit: we open Figma and start perfecting the UI before we’ve even solved the problem. So why do we hide these rough sketches? It’s not just a bad habit or plain silly. There are solid psychological reasons behind it. We often just call it perfectionism, but it’s deeper than wanting things neat. Digging into the psychology (like the research by Hewitt and Flett) shows there are a couple of flavors driving this: Socially prescribed perfectionismIt’s that nagging feeling that everyone else expects perfect work from you, which makes showing anything rough feel like walking into the lion’s den. Self-oriented perfectionismWhere you’re the one setting impossibly high standards for yourself, leading to brutal self-criticism if anything looks slightly off. Either way, the result’s the same: showing unfinished work feels wrong, and you miss out on that vital early feedback. Back to the design side, remember that clients rarely see architects’ first pencil sketches, but these sketches still exist; they guide structural choices before the 3D render. Treat your thumbnails the same way — artifacts meant to collapse uncertainty, not portfolio pieces. Once stakeholders see the upside, roughness becomes a badge of speed, not sloppiness. So, the key is to consciously make that shift: Treat early sketches as disposable tools for thinking and actively share them to get feedback faster. Reason #2: You Fix The Symptom, Not The Cause Before tackling any task, we need to understand what business outcome we’re aiming for. Product managers might come to us asking to enlarge the payment button in the shopping cart because users aren’t noticing it. The suggested solution itself isn’t necessarily bad, but before redesigning the button, we should ask, “What data suggests they aren’t noticing it?” Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you shouldn’t trust your product manager. On the contrary, these questions help ensure you’re on the same page and working with the same data. From my experience, here are several reasons why users might not be clicking that coveted button: Users don’t understand that this step is for payment. They understand it’s about payment but expect order confirmation first. Due to incorrect translation, users don’t understand what the button means. Lack of trust signals (no security icons, unclear seller information). Unexpected additional costs (hidden fees, shipping) that appear at this stage. Technical issues (inactive button, page freezing). Now, imagine you simply did what the manager suggested. Would you have solved the problem? Hardly. Moreover, the responsibility for the unresolved issue would fall on you, as the interface solution lies within the design domain. The product manager actually did their job correctly by identifying a problem: suspiciously, few users are clicking the button. Psychologically, taking on this bigger role isn’t easy. It means overcoming the fear of making mistakes and the discomfort of exploring unclear problems rather than just doing tasks. This shift means seeing ourselves as partners who create value — even if it means fighting a hesitation to question product managers (which might come from a fear of speaking up or a desire to avoid challenging authority) — and understanding that using our product logic expertise proactively is crucial for modern designers. There’s another critical reason why we, designers, need to be a bit like product managers: the rise of AI. I deliberately used a simple example about enlarging a button, but I’m confident that in the near future, AI will easily handle routine design tasks. This worries me, but at the same time, I’m already gladly stepping into the product manager’s territory: understanding product and business metrics, formulating hypotheses, conducting research, and so on. It might sound like I’m taking work away from PMs, but believe me, they undoubtedly have enough on their plates and are usually more than happy to delegate some responsibilities to designers. Reason #3: You’re Solving The Wrong Problem Before solving anything, ask whether the problem even deserves your attention. During a major home‑screen redesign, our goal was to drive more users into paid services. The initial hypothesis — making service buttons bigger and brighter might help returning users — seemed reasonable enough to test. However, even when A/B tests (a method of comparing two versions of a design to determine which performs better) showed minimal impact, we continued to tweak those buttons. Only later did it click: the home screen isn’t the place to sell; visitors open the app to start, not to buy. We removed that promo block, and nothing broke. Contextual entry points deeper into the journey performed brilliantly. Lesson learned: Without the right context, any visual tweak is lipstick on a pig. Why did we get stuck polishing buttons instead of stopping sooner? It’s easy to get tunnel vision. Psychologically, it’s likely the good old sunk cost fallacy kicking in: we’d already invested time in the buttons, so stopping felt like wasting that effort, even though the data wasn’t promising. It’s just easier to keep fiddling with something familiar than to admit we need a new plan. Perhaps the simple question I should have asked myself when results stalled was: “Are we optimizing the right thing or just polishing something that fundamentally doesn’t fit the user’s primary goal here?” That alone might have saved hours. Reason #4: You’re Drowning In Unactionable Feedback We all discuss our work with colleagues. But here’s a crucial point: what kind of question do you pose to kick off that discussion? If your go-to is “What do you think?” well, that question might lead you down a rabbit hole of personal opinions rather than actionable insights. While experienced colleagues will cut through the noise, others, unsure what to evaluate, might comment on anything and everything — fonts, button colors, even when you desperately need to discuss a user flow. What matters here are two things: The question you ask, The context you give. That means clearly stating the problem, what you’ve learned, and how your idea aims to fix it. For instance: “The problem is our payment conversion rate has dropped by X%. I’ve interviewed users and found they abandon payment because they don’t understand how the total amount is calculated. My solution is to show a detailed cost breakdown. Do you think this actually solves the problem for them?” Here, you’ve stated the problem (conversion drop), shared your insight (user confusion), explained your solution (cost breakdown), and asked a direct question. It’s even better if you prepare a list of specific sub-questions. For instance: “Are all items in the cost breakdown clear?” or “Does the placement of this breakdown feel intuitive within the payment flow?” Another good habit is to keep your rough sketches and previous iterations handy. Some of your colleagues’ suggestions might be things you’ve already tried. It’s great if you can discuss them immediately to either revisit those ideas or definitively set them aside. I’m not a psychologist, but experience tells me that, psychologically, the reluctance to be this specific often stems from a fear of our solution being rejected. We tend to internalize feedback: a seemingly innocent comment like, “Have you considered other ways to organize this section?” or “Perhaps explore a different structure for this part?” can instantly morph in our minds into “You completely messed up the structure. You’re a bad designer.” Imposter syndrome, in all its glory. So, to wrap up this point, here are two recommendations: Prepare for every design discussion.A couple of focused questions will yield far more valuable input than a vague “So, what do you think?”. Actively work on separating feedback on your design from your self-worth.If a mistake is pointed out, acknowledge it, learn from it, and you’ll be less likely to repeat it. This is often easier said than done. For me, it took years of working with a psychotherapist. If you struggle with this, I sincerely wish you strength in overcoming it. Reason #5 You’re Just Tired Sometimes, the issue isn’t strategic at all — it’s fatigue. Fussing over icon corners can feel like a cozy bunker when your brain is fried. There’s a name for this: decision fatigue. Basically, your brain’s battery for hard thinking is low, so it hides out in the easy, comfy zone of pixel-pushing. A striking example comes from a New York Times article titled “Do You Suffer From Decision Fatigue?.” It described how judges deciding on release requests were far more likely to grant release early in the day (about 70% of cases) compared to late in the day (less than 10%) simply because their decision-making energy was depleted. Luckily, designers rarely hold someone’s freedom in their hands, but the example dramatically shows how fatigue can impact our judgment and productivity. What helps here: Swap tasks.Trade tickets with another designer; novelty resets your focus. Talk to another designer.If NDA permits, ask peers outside the team for a sanity check. Step away.Even a ten‑minute walk can do more than a double‑shot espresso. By the way, I came up with these ideas while walking around my office. I was lucky to work near a river, and those short walks quickly turned into a helpful habit. And one more trick that helps me snap out of detail mode early: if I catch myself making around 20 little tweaks — changing font weight, color, border radius — I just stop. Over time, it turned into a habit. I have a similar one with Instagram: by the third reel, my brain quietly asks, “Wait, weren’t we working?” Funny how that kind of nudge saves a ton of time. Four Steps I Use to Avoid Drowning In Detail Knowing these potential traps, here’s the practical process I use to stay on track: 1. Define the Core Problem & Business Goal Before anything, dig deep: what’s the actual problem we’re solving, not just the requested task or a surface-level symptom? Ask ‘why’ repeatedly. What user pain or business need are we addressing? Then, state the clear business goal: “What metric am I moving, and do we have data to prove this is the right lever?” If retention is the goal, decide whether push reminders, gamification, or personalised content is the best route. The wrong lever, or tackling a symptom instead of the cause, dooms everything downstream. 2. Choose the Mechanic (Solution Principle) Once the core problem and goal are clear, lock the solution principle or ‘mechanic’ first. Going with a game layer? Decide if it’s leaderboards, streaks, or badges. Write it down. Then move on. No UI yet. This keeps the focus high-level before diving into pixels. 3. Wireframe the Flow & Get Focused Feedback Now open Figma. Map screens, layout, and transitions. Boxes and arrows are enough. Keep the fidelity low so the discussion stays on the flow, not colour. Crucially, when you share these early wires, ask specific questions and provide clear context (as discussed in ‘Reason #4’) to get actionable feedback, not just vague opinions. 4. Polish the Visuals (Mindfully) I only let myself tweak grids, type scales, and shadows after the flow is validated. If progress stalls, or before a major polish effort, I surface the work in a design critique — again using targeted questions and clear context — instead of hiding in version 47. This ensures detailing serves the now-validated solution. Even for something as small as a single button, running these four checkpoints takes about ten minutes and saves hours of decorative dithering. Wrapping Up Next time you feel the pull to vanish into mock‑ups before the problem is nailed down, pause and ask what you might be avoiding. Yes, that can expose an uncomfortable truth. But pausing to ask what you might be avoiding — maybe the fuzzy core problem, or just asking for tough feedback — gives you the power to face the real issue head-on. It keeps the project focused on solving the right problem, not just perfecting a flawed solution. Attention to detail is a superpower when used at the right moment. Obsessing over pixels too soon, though, is a bad habit and a warning light telling us the process needs a rethink.
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  • Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricks

    Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricksSave this picture!© Ron Mendoza , Mark Twain C , BB teamHouses, Sustainability•Quezon City, Philippines

    Architects:
    billionBricks
    Area
    Area of this architecture project

    Area: 
    45 m²

    Year
    Completion year of this architecture project

    Year: 

    2024

    Photographs

    Photographs:Ron Mendoza , Mark Twain C , BB teamMore SpecsLess Specs
    this picture!
    Text description provided by the architects. Built to address homelessness and climate change, the Sienna Net-Zero Home is a self-sustaining, solar-powered, cost-efficient, and compact housing solution. This climate-responsive and affordable home, located in Quezon City, Philippines, represents a revolutionary vision for social housing through its integration of thoughtful design, sustainability, and energy self-sufficiency.this picture!this picture!this picture!Designed with the unique tropical climate of the Philippines in mind, the Sienna Home prioritizes natural ventilation, passive cooling, and rainwater management to enhance indoor comfort and reduce reliance on artificial cooling systems. The compact 4.5m x 5.1m floor plan has been meticulously optimized for functionality, offering a flexible layout that grows and adapts to the families living in them.this picture!this picture!this picture!A key architectural feature is BillionBricks' innovative Powershade technology - an advanced solar roofing system that serves multiple purposes. Beyond generating clean, renewable energy, it acts as a protective heat barrier, reducing indoor temperatures and improving thermal comfort. Unlike conventional solar panels, Powershade seamlessly integrates with the home's structure, providing reliable energy generation while doubling as a durable roof. This makes the Sienna Home energy-positive, meaning it produces more electricity than it consumes, lowering utility costs and promoting long-term energy independence. Excess power can also be stored or sold back to the grid, creating an additional financial benefit for homeowners.this picture!When multiple Sienna Homes are built together, the innovative PowerShade roofing solution transcends its role as an individual energy source and transforms into a utility-scale solar rooftop farm, capable of powering essential community facilities and generating additional income. This shared energy infrastructure fosters a sense of collective empowerment, enabling residents to actively participate in a sustainable and financially rewarding energy ecosystem.this picture!this picture!The Sienna Home is built using lightweight prefabricated components, allowing for rapid on-site assembly while maintaining durability and structural integrity. This modular approach enables scalability, making it an ideal prototype for large-scale, cost-effective housing developments. The design also allows for future expansions, giving homeowners the flexibility to adapt their living spaces over time.this picture!Adhering to BP 220 social housing regulations, the unit features a 3-meter front setback and a 2-meter rear setback, ensuring proper ventilation, safety, and community-friendly spaces. Additionally, corner units include a 1.5-meter offset, enhancing privacy and accessibility within neighborhood layouts. Beyond providing a single-family residence, the Sienna House is designed to function within a larger sustainable community model, integrating shared green spaces, pedestrian pathways, and decentralized utilities. By promoting energy independence and environmental resilience, the project sets a new precedent for affordable yet high-quality housing solutions in rapidly urbanizing regions.this picture!The Sienna Home in Quezon City serves as a blueprint for future developments, proving that low-cost housing can be both architecturally compelling and socially transformative. By rethinking traditional housing models, BillionBricks is pioneering a future where affordability and sustainability are seamlessly integrated.

    Project gallerySee allShow less
    About this officebillionBricksOffice•••
    Published on June 15, 2025Cite: "Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricks" 14 Jun 2025. ArchDaily. Accessed . < ISSN 0719-8884Save世界上最受欢迎的建筑网站现已推出你的母语版本!想浏览ArchDaily中国吗?是否
    You've started following your first account!Did you know?You'll now receive updates based on what you follow! Personalize your stream and start following your favorite authors, offices and users.Go to my stream
    #sienna #netzero #home #billionbricks
    Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricks
    Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricksSave this picture!© Ron Mendoza , Mark Twain C , BB teamHouses, Sustainability•Quezon City, Philippines Architects: billionBricks Area Area of this architecture project Area:  45 m² Year Completion year of this architecture project Year:  2024 Photographs Photographs:Ron Mendoza , Mark Twain C , BB teamMore SpecsLess Specs this picture! Text description provided by the architects. Built to address homelessness and climate change, the Sienna Net-Zero Home is a self-sustaining, solar-powered, cost-efficient, and compact housing solution. This climate-responsive and affordable home, located in Quezon City, Philippines, represents a revolutionary vision for social housing through its integration of thoughtful design, sustainability, and energy self-sufficiency.this picture!this picture!this picture!Designed with the unique tropical climate of the Philippines in mind, the Sienna Home prioritizes natural ventilation, passive cooling, and rainwater management to enhance indoor comfort and reduce reliance on artificial cooling systems. The compact 4.5m x 5.1m floor plan has been meticulously optimized for functionality, offering a flexible layout that grows and adapts to the families living in them.this picture!this picture!this picture!A key architectural feature is BillionBricks' innovative Powershade technology - an advanced solar roofing system that serves multiple purposes. Beyond generating clean, renewable energy, it acts as a protective heat barrier, reducing indoor temperatures and improving thermal comfort. Unlike conventional solar panels, Powershade seamlessly integrates with the home's structure, providing reliable energy generation while doubling as a durable roof. This makes the Sienna Home energy-positive, meaning it produces more electricity than it consumes, lowering utility costs and promoting long-term energy independence. Excess power can also be stored or sold back to the grid, creating an additional financial benefit for homeowners.this picture!When multiple Sienna Homes are built together, the innovative PowerShade roofing solution transcends its role as an individual energy source and transforms into a utility-scale solar rooftop farm, capable of powering essential community facilities and generating additional income. This shared energy infrastructure fosters a sense of collective empowerment, enabling residents to actively participate in a sustainable and financially rewarding energy ecosystem.this picture!this picture!The Sienna Home is built using lightweight prefabricated components, allowing for rapid on-site assembly while maintaining durability and structural integrity. This modular approach enables scalability, making it an ideal prototype for large-scale, cost-effective housing developments. The design also allows for future expansions, giving homeowners the flexibility to adapt their living spaces over time.this picture!Adhering to BP 220 social housing regulations, the unit features a 3-meter front setback and a 2-meter rear setback, ensuring proper ventilation, safety, and community-friendly spaces. Additionally, corner units include a 1.5-meter offset, enhancing privacy and accessibility within neighborhood layouts. Beyond providing a single-family residence, the Sienna House is designed to function within a larger sustainable community model, integrating shared green spaces, pedestrian pathways, and decentralized utilities. By promoting energy independence and environmental resilience, the project sets a new precedent for affordable yet high-quality housing solutions in rapidly urbanizing regions.this picture!The Sienna Home in Quezon City serves as a blueprint for future developments, proving that low-cost housing can be both architecturally compelling and socially transformative. By rethinking traditional housing models, BillionBricks is pioneering a future where affordability and sustainability are seamlessly integrated. Project gallerySee allShow less About this officebillionBricksOffice••• Published on June 15, 2025Cite: "Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricks" 14 Jun 2025. ArchDaily. Accessed . < ISSN 0719-8884Save世界上最受欢迎的建筑网站现已推出你的母语版本!想浏览ArchDaily中国吗?是否 You've started following your first account!Did you know?You'll now receive updates based on what you follow! Personalize your stream and start following your favorite authors, offices and users.Go to my stream #sienna #netzero #home #billionbricks
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    Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricks
    Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricksSave this picture!© Ron Mendoza , Mark Twain C , BB teamHouses, Sustainability•Quezon City, Philippines Architects: billionBricks Area Area of this architecture project Area:  45 m² Year Completion year of this architecture project Year:  2024 Photographs Photographs:Ron Mendoza , Mark Twain C , BB teamMore SpecsLess Specs Save this picture! Text description provided by the architects. Built to address homelessness and climate change, the Sienna Net-Zero Home is a self-sustaining, solar-powered, cost-efficient, and compact housing solution. This climate-responsive and affordable home, located in Quezon City, Philippines, represents a revolutionary vision for social housing through its integration of thoughtful design, sustainability, and energy self-sufficiency.Save this picture!Save this picture!Save this picture!Designed with the unique tropical climate of the Philippines in mind, the Sienna Home prioritizes natural ventilation, passive cooling, and rainwater management to enhance indoor comfort and reduce reliance on artificial cooling systems. The compact 4.5m x 5.1m floor plan has been meticulously optimized for functionality, offering a flexible layout that grows and adapts to the families living in them.Save this picture!Save this picture!Save this picture!A key architectural feature is BillionBricks' innovative Powershade technology - an advanced solar roofing system that serves multiple purposes. Beyond generating clean, renewable energy, it acts as a protective heat barrier, reducing indoor temperatures and improving thermal comfort. Unlike conventional solar panels, Powershade seamlessly integrates with the home's structure, providing reliable energy generation while doubling as a durable roof. This makes the Sienna Home energy-positive, meaning it produces more electricity than it consumes, lowering utility costs and promoting long-term energy independence. Excess power can also be stored or sold back to the grid, creating an additional financial benefit for homeowners.Save this picture!When multiple Sienna Homes are built together, the innovative PowerShade roofing solution transcends its role as an individual energy source and transforms into a utility-scale solar rooftop farm, capable of powering essential community facilities and generating additional income. This shared energy infrastructure fosters a sense of collective empowerment, enabling residents to actively participate in a sustainable and financially rewarding energy ecosystem.Save this picture!Save this picture!The Sienna Home is built using lightweight prefabricated components, allowing for rapid on-site assembly while maintaining durability and structural integrity. This modular approach enables scalability, making it an ideal prototype for large-scale, cost-effective housing developments. The design also allows for future expansions, giving homeowners the flexibility to adapt their living spaces over time.Save this picture!Adhering to BP 220 social housing regulations, the unit features a 3-meter front setback and a 2-meter rear setback, ensuring proper ventilation, safety, and community-friendly spaces. Additionally, corner units include a 1.5-meter offset, enhancing privacy and accessibility within neighborhood layouts. Beyond providing a single-family residence, the Sienna House is designed to function within a larger sustainable community model, integrating shared green spaces, pedestrian pathways, and decentralized utilities. By promoting energy independence and environmental resilience, the project sets a new precedent for affordable yet high-quality housing solutions in rapidly urbanizing regions.Save this picture!The Sienna Home in Quezon City serves as a blueprint for future developments, proving that low-cost housing can be both architecturally compelling and socially transformative. By rethinking traditional housing models, BillionBricks is pioneering a future where affordability and sustainability are seamlessly integrated. Project gallerySee allShow less About this officebillionBricksOffice••• Published on June 15, 2025Cite: "Sienna Net-Zero Home / billionBricks" 14 Jun 2025. ArchDaily. Accessed . <https://www.archdaily.com/1031072/sienna-billionbricks&gt ISSN 0719-8884Save世界上最受欢迎的建筑网站现已推出你的母语版本!想浏览ArchDaily中国吗?是否 You've started following your first account!Did you know?You'll now receive updates based on what you follow! Personalize your stream and start following your favorite authors, offices and users.Go to my stream
    0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 0 previzualizare
  • Fortifying retail: how UK brands can defend against cyber breaches

    The recent wave of cyber attacks targeting UK retailers has been a moment of reckoning for the entire retail industry. As someone who went through supporting one of the largest retail breaches in history, this news hits close to home.
    The National Cyber Security Centre’scall to strengthen IT support protocols reinforces a hard truth: cybersecurity is no longer just a technical/operational issue. It’s a business issue that directly affects revenue, customer trust, and brand reputation.
    Retailers today are navigating an increasingly complex threat landscape, while also managing a vast user base that needs to stay informed and secure. The recent attacks don’t represent a failure, but an opportunity - an inflection point to invest in stronger visibility, continuous monitoring and a culture of shared responsibility that meets the realities of modern retail.

    We know that the cyber groups responsible for the recent retail hacks used sophisticated social engineering techniques, such as impersonating employees to deceive IT help desks into resetting passwords and providing information, thereby gaining unauthorised access to internal systems.
    Employees are increasingly a target, and retailers employ some of the largest, most diverse workforces, making them an even bigger risk with countless touchpoints for breaches. In these organisations, a cybersecurity-first culture is vital to combatting threats. Cybersecurity-first culture includes employees that are aware of these types of attacks and understand how to report them if they are contacted.
    In order to establish a cybersecurity-first culture, employees must be empowered to recognise and respond to threats, not just avoid them. This can be done through simulation training and threat assessments - showcasing real life examples of threats and brainstorming possible solutions to control and prevent further and future damage.
    This allows security teams to focus on strategy instead of constant firefighting, while leadership support - through budget, tools, and tone - reinforces its importance at every level.

    In addition to support workers, vendors also pose a significant attack path for bad actors. According to data from Elastic Path, 42% of retailers admit that legacy technology could be leaving them exposed to cyber risks. And with the accelerating pace of innovation, modern cyber threats are not only more complex, but often enter through unexpected avenues, like third-party vendors. Research from Vanta shows 46% of organisations say that a vendor of theirs has experienced a data breach since they started working together.
    The M&S breach is a case in point, with it being reported that attackers exploited a vulnerability in a contractor’s systems, not the retailer’s own. This underscores that visibility must extend beyond your perimeter to encompass the entire digital supply chain, in real time.
    Threats don’t wait for your quarterly review or annual audit. If you're only checking your controls or vendor status once a year, you're already behind. This means real-time visibility is now foundational to cyber defence. We need to know when something changes the moment it happens. This can be done through continuous monitoring, both for the technical controls and the relationships that introduce risk into your environment.
    We also need to rethink the way we resource and prioritise that visibility. Manual processes don’t scale with the complexity of modern infrastructure. Automation and tooling can help surface the right signals from the noise - whether it’s misconfigurations, access drift, or suspicious vendor behavior.

    The best case scenario is that security measures are embedded into all digital architecture, utilising a few security ‘must haves’ such as secure coding, continuous monitoring, and regular testing and improvement. Retailers who want to get proactive and about breaches following the events of the last few weeks can follow this action plan to get started:
    First, awareness - have your security leadership send a message out to managers of help desks and support teams to make sure they are aware of the recent attacks on retailers, and are in a position to inform teams of what to look out for.
    Then, investigate - pinpoint the attack path used on other retailers to make sure you have a full understanding of the risk to your organisation.
    After that, assess - conduct a threat assessment to identify what could go wrong, or how this attack path could be used in your organisation.
    The final step is to identify - figure out the highest risk gaps in your organisation, and the remediation steps to address each one.

    Strong cybersecurity doesn’t come from quick fixes - it takes time, leadership buy-in, and a shift in mindset across the organisation. My advice to security teams is simple: speak in outcomes. Frame cyber risk as business risk, because that’s what it is. The retailers that have fallen victim to recent attacks are facing huge financial losses, which makes this not just an IT issue - it’s a boardroom issue.
    Customers are paying attention. They want to trust the brands they buy from, and that trust is built on transparency and preparation. The recent retail attacks aren’t a reason to panic - they’re a reason to reset, evaluate current state risks, and fully understand the potential impacts of what is happening elsewhere. This is the moment to invest in your infrastructure, empower your teams, and embed security into your operations. The organisations that do this now won’t just be safer - they’ll be more competitive, more resilient, and better positioned for whatever comes next.
    Jadee Hanson is the Chief Information Security Officer at Vanta

    about cyber security in retail
    Content Goes Here
    Harrods becomes latest UK retailer to fall victim to cyber attack
    Retail cyber crime spree a ‘wake-up call’, says NCSC CEO
    Retail cyber attacks hit food distributor Peter Green Chilled
    #fortifying #retail #how #brands #can
    Fortifying retail: how UK brands can defend against cyber breaches
    The recent wave of cyber attacks targeting UK retailers has been a moment of reckoning for the entire retail industry. As someone who went through supporting one of the largest retail breaches in history, this news hits close to home. The National Cyber Security Centre’scall to strengthen IT support protocols reinforces a hard truth: cybersecurity is no longer just a technical/operational issue. It’s a business issue that directly affects revenue, customer trust, and brand reputation. Retailers today are navigating an increasingly complex threat landscape, while also managing a vast user base that needs to stay informed and secure. The recent attacks don’t represent a failure, but an opportunity - an inflection point to invest in stronger visibility, continuous monitoring and a culture of shared responsibility that meets the realities of modern retail. We know that the cyber groups responsible for the recent retail hacks used sophisticated social engineering techniques, such as impersonating employees to deceive IT help desks into resetting passwords and providing information, thereby gaining unauthorised access to internal systems. Employees are increasingly a target, and retailers employ some of the largest, most diverse workforces, making them an even bigger risk with countless touchpoints for breaches. In these organisations, a cybersecurity-first culture is vital to combatting threats. Cybersecurity-first culture includes employees that are aware of these types of attacks and understand how to report them if they are contacted. In order to establish a cybersecurity-first culture, employees must be empowered to recognise and respond to threats, not just avoid them. This can be done through simulation training and threat assessments - showcasing real life examples of threats and brainstorming possible solutions to control and prevent further and future damage. This allows security teams to focus on strategy instead of constant firefighting, while leadership support - through budget, tools, and tone - reinforces its importance at every level. In addition to support workers, vendors also pose a significant attack path for bad actors. According to data from Elastic Path, 42% of retailers admit that legacy technology could be leaving them exposed to cyber risks. And with the accelerating pace of innovation, modern cyber threats are not only more complex, but often enter through unexpected avenues, like third-party vendors. Research from Vanta shows 46% of organisations say that a vendor of theirs has experienced a data breach since they started working together. The M&S breach is a case in point, with it being reported that attackers exploited a vulnerability in a contractor’s systems, not the retailer’s own. This underscores that visibility must extend beyond your perimeter to encompass the entire digital supply chain, in real time. Threats don’t wait for your quarterly review or annual audit. If you're only checking your controls or vendor status once a year, you're already behind. This means real-time visibility is now foundational to cyber defence. We need to know when something changes the moment it happens. This can be done through continuous monitoring, both for the technical controls and the relationships that introduce risk into your environment. We also need to rethink the way we resource and prioritise that visibility. Manual processes don’t scale with the complexity of modern infrastructure. Automation and tooling can help surface the right signals from the noise - whether it’s misconfigurations, access drift, or suspicious vendor behavior. The best case scenario is that security measures are embedded into all digital architecture, utilising a few security ‘must haves’ such as secure coding, continuous monitoring, and regular testing and improvement. Retailers who want to get proactive and about breaches following the events of the last few weeks can follow this action plan to get started: First, awareness - have your security leadership send a message out to managers of help desks and support teams to make sure they are aware of the recent attacks on retailers, and are in a position to inform teams of what to look out for. Then, investigate - pinpoint the attack path used on other retailers to make sure you have a full understanding of the risk to your organisation. After that, assess - conduct a threat assessment to identify what could go wrong, or how this attack path could be used in your organisation. The final step is to identify - figure out the highest risk gaps in your organisation, and the remediation steps to address each one. Strong cybersecurity doesn’t come from quick fixes - it takes time, leadership buy-in, and a shift in mindset across the organisation. My advice to security teams is simple: speak in outcomes. Frame cyber risk as business risk, because that’s what it is. The retailers that have fallen victim to recent attacks are facing huge financial losses, which makes this not just an IT issue - it’s a boardroom issue. Customers are paying attention. They want to trust the brands they buy from, and that trust is built on transparency and preparation. The recent retail attacks aren’t a reason to panic - they’re a reason to reset, evaluate current state risks, and fully understand the potential impacts of what is happening elsewhere. This is the moment to invest in your infrastructure, empower your teams, and embed security into your operations. The organisations that do this now won’t just be safer - they’ll be more competitive, more resilient, and better positioned for whatever comes next. Jadee Hanson is the Chief Information Security Officer at Vanta about cyber security in retail Content Goes Here Harrods becomes latest UK retailer to fall victim to cyber attack Retail cyber crime spree a ‘wake-up call’, says NCSC CEO Retail cyber attacks hit food distributor Peter Green Chilled #fortifying #retail #how #brands #can
    WWW.COMPUTERWEEKLY.COM
    Fortifying retail: how UK brands can defend against cyber breaches
    The recent wave of cyber attacks targeting UK retailers has been a moment of reckoning for the entire retail industry. As someone who went through supporting one of the largest retail breaches in history, this news hits close to home. The National Cyber Security Centre’s (NCSC) call to strengthen IT support protocols reinforces a hard truth: cybersecurity is no longer just a technical/operational issue. It’s a business issue that directly affects revenue, customer trust, and brand reputation. Retailers today are navigating an increasingly complex threat landscape, while also managing a vast user base that needs to stay informed and secure. The recent attacks don’t represent a failure, but an opportunity - an inflection point to invest in stronger visibility, continuous monitoring and a culture of shared responsibility that meets the realities of modern retail. We know that the cyber groups responsible for the recent retail hacks used sophisticated social engineering techniques, such as impersonating employees to deceive IT help desks into resetting passwords and providing information, thereby gaining unauthorised access to internal systems. Employees are increasingly a target, and retailers employ some of the largest, most diverse workforces, making them an even bigger risk with countless touchpoints for breaches. In these organisations, a cybersecurity-first culture is vital to combatting threats. Cybersecurity-first culture includes employees that are aware of these types of attacks and understand how to report them if they are contacted. In order to establish a cybersecurity-first culture, employees must be empowered to recognise and respond to threats, not just avoid them. This can be done through simulation training and threat assessments - showcasing real life examples of threats and brainstorming possible solutions to control and prevent further and future damage. This allows security teams to focus on strategy instead of constant firefighting, while leadership support - through budget, tools, and tone - reinforces its importance at every level. In addition to support workers, vendors also pose a significant attack path for bad actors. According to data from Elastic Path, 42% of retailers admit that legacy technology could be leaving them exposed to cyber risks. And with the accelerating pace of innovation, modern cyber threats are not only more complex, but often enter through unexpected avenues, like third-party vendors. Research from Vanta shows 46% of organisations say that a vendor of theirs has experienced a data breach since they started working together. The M&S breach is a case in point, with it being reported that attackers exploited a vulnerability in a contractor’s systems, not the retailer’s own. This underscores that visibility must extend beyond your perimeter to encompass the entire digital supply chain, in real time. Threats don’t wait for your quarterly review or annual audit. If you're only checking your controls or vendor status once a year, you're already behind. This means real-time visibility is now foundational to cyber defence. We need to know when something changes the moment it happens. This can be done through continuous monitoring, both for the technical controls and the relationships that introduce risk into your environment. We also need to rethink the way we resource and prioritise that visibility. Manual processes don’t scale with the complexity of modern infrastructure. Automation and tooling can help surface the right signals from the noise - whether it’s misconfigurations, access drift, or suspicious vendor behavior. The best case scenario is that security measures are embedded into all digital architecture, utilising a few security ‘must haves’ such as secure coding, continuous monitoring, and regular testing and improvement. Retailers who want to get proactive and about breaches following the events of the last few weeks can follow this action plan to get started: First, awareness - have your security leadership send a message out to managers of help desks and support teams to make sure they are aware of the recent attacks on retailers, and are in a position to inform teams of what to look out for. Then, investigate - pinpoint the attack path used on other retailers to make sure you have a full understanding of the risk to your organisation. After that, assess - conduct a threat assessment to identify what could go wrong, or how this attack path could be used in your organisation. The final step is to identify - figure out the highest risk gaps in your organisation, and the remediation steps to address each one. Strong cybersecurity doesn’t come from quick fixes - it takes time, leadership buy-in, and a shift in mindset across the organisation. My advice to security teams is simple: speak in outcomes. Frame cyber risk as business risk, because that’s what it is. The retailers that have fallen victim to recent attacks are facing huge financial losses, which makes this not just an IT issue - it’s a boardroom issue. Customers are paying attention. They want to trust the brands they buy from, and that trust is built on transparency and preparation. The recent retail attacks aren’t a reason to panic - they’re a reason to reset, evaluate current state risks, and fully understand the potential impacts of what is happening elsewhere. This is the moment to invest in your infrastructure, empower your teams, and embed security into your operations. The organisations that do this now won’t just be safer - they’ll be more competitive, more resilient, and better positioned for whatever comes next. Jadee Hanson is the Chief Information Security Officer at Vanta Read more about cyber security in retail Content Goes Here Harrods becomes latest UK retailer to fall victim to cyber attack Retail cyber crime spree a ‘wake-up call’, says NCSC CEO Retail cyber attacks hit food distributor Peter Green Chilled
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  • An excerpt from a new book by Sérgio Ferro, published by MACK Books, showcases the architect’s moment of disenchantment

    Last year, MACK Books published Architecture from Below, which anthologized writings by the French Brazilian architect, theorist, and painter Sérgio Ferro.Now, MACK follows with Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays, the second in the trilogy of books dedicated to Ferro’s scholarship. The following excerpt of the author’s 2023 preface to the English edition, which preserves its British phrasing, captures Ferro’s realization about the working conditions of construction sites in Brasília. The sentiment is likely relatable even today for young architects as they discover how drawings become buildings. Design and the Building Site and Complementary Essays will be released on May 22.

    If I remember correctly, it was in 1958 or 1959, when Rodrigo and I were second- or third year architecture students at FAUUSP, that my father, the real estate developer Armando Simone Pereira, commissioned us to design two large office buildings and eleven shops in Brasilia, which was then under construction. Of course, we were not adequately prepared for such an undertaking. Fortunately, Oscar Niemeyer and his team, who were responsible for overseeing the construction of the capital, had drawn up a detailed document determining the essential characteristics of all the private sector buildings. We followed these prescriptions to the letter, which saved us from disaster.
    Nowadays, it is hard to imagine the degree to which the construction of Brasilia inspired enthusiasm and professional pride in the country’s architects. And in the national imagination, the city’s establishment in the supposedly unpopulated hinterland evoked a re-founding of Brazil. Up until that point, the occupation of our immense territory had been reduced to a collection of arborescent communication routes, generally converging upon some river, following it up to the Atlantic Ocean. Through its ports, agricultural or extractive commodities produced by enslaved peoples or their substitutes passed towards the metropolises; goods were exchanged in the metropolises for more elaborate products, which took the opposite route. Our national identity was summed up in a few symbols, such as the anthem or the flag, and this scattering of paths pointing overseas. Brasilia would radically change this situation, or so we believed. It would create a central hub where the internal communication routes could converge, linking together hithertoseparate junctions, stimulating trade and economic progress in the country’s interior. It was as if, for the first time, we were taking care of ourselves. At the nucleus of this centripetal movement, architecture would embody the renaissance. And at the naval of the nucleus, the symbolic mandala of this utopia: the cathedral.
    Rodrigo and I got caught up in the euphoria. And perhaps more so than our colleagues, because we were taking part in the adventure with ‘our’ designs. The reality was very different — but we did not know that yet.

    At that time, architects in Brazil were responsible for verifying that the construction was in line with the design. We had already monitored some of our first building sites. But the construction company in charge of them, Osmar Souza e Silva’s CENPLA, specialized in the building sites of modernist architects from the so-called Escola Paulista led by Vilanova Artigas. Osmar was very attentive to his clients and his workers, who formed a supportive and helpful team. He was even more careful with us, because he knew how inexperienced we were. I believe that the CENPLA was particularly important in São Paulo modernism: with its congeniality, it facilitated experimentation, but for the same reason, it deceived novices like us about the reality of other building sites.
    Consequently, Rodrigo and I travelled to Brasilia several times to check that the constructions followed ‘our’ designs and to resolve any issues. From the very first trip, our little bubble burst. Our building sites, like all the others in the future capital, bore no relation to Osmar’s. They were more like a branch of hell. A huge, muddy wasteland, in which a few cranes, pile drivers, tractors, and excavators dotted the mound of scaffolding occupied by thousands of skinny, seemingly exhausted wretches, who were nevertheless driven on by the shouts of master builders and foremen, in turn pressured by the imminence of the fateful inauguration date. Surrounding or huddled underneath the marquees of buildings under construction, entire families, equally skeletal and ragged, were waiting for some accident or death to open up a vacancy. In contact only with the master builders, and under close surveillance so we would not speak to the workers, we were not allowed to see what comrades who had worked on these sites later told us in prison: suicide abounded; escape was known to be futile in the unpopulated surroundings with no viable roads; fatal accidents were often caused by weakness due to chronic diarrhoea, brought on by rotten food that came from far away; outright theft took place in the calculation of wages and expenses in the contractor’s grocery store; camps were surrounded by law enforcement.
    I repeat this anecdote yet again not to invoke the benevolence of potential readers, but rather to point out the conditions that, in my opinion, allowed two studentsstill in their professional infancy to quickly adopt positions that were contrary to the usual stance of architects. As the project was more Oscar Niemeyer’s than it was our own, we did not have the same emotional attachment that is understandably engendered between real authors and their designs. We had not yet been imbued with the charm and aura of the métier. And the only building sites we had visited thus far, Osmar’s, were incomparable to those we discovered in Brasilia. In short, our youthfulness and unpreparedness up against an unbearable situation made us react almost immediately to the profession’s satisfied doxa.

    Unprepared and young perhaps, but already with Marx by our side. Rodrigo and I joined the student cell of the Brazilian Communist Party during our first year at university. In itself, this did not help us much: the Party’s Marxism, revised in the interests of the USSR, was pitiful. Even high-level leaders rarely went beyond the first chapter of Capital. But at the end of the 1950s, the effervescence of the years to come was already nascent: this extraordinary revivalthe rediscovery of Marxism and the great dialectical texts and traditions in the 1960s: an excitement that identifies a forgotten or repressed moment of the past as the new and subversive, and learns the dialectical grammar of a Hegel or an Adorno, a Marx or a Lukács, like a foreign language that has resources unavailable in our own.
    And what is more: the Chinese and Cuban revolutions, the war in Vietnam, guerrilla warfare of all kinds, national liberation movements, and a rare libertarian disposition in contemporary history, totally averse to fanaticism and respect for ideological apparatuses ofstate or institution. Going against the grain was almost the norm. We were of course no more than contemporaries of our time. We were soon able to position ourselves from chapters 13, 14, and 15 of Capital, but only because we could constantly cross-reference Marx with our observations from well-contrasted building sites and do our own experimenting. As soon as we identified construction as manufacture, for example, thanks to the willingness and even encouragement of two friends and clients, Boris Fausto and Bernardo Issler, I was able to test both types of manufacture — organic and heterogeneous — on similar-sized projects taking place simultaneously, in order to find out which would be most convenient for the situation in Brazil, particularly in São Paulo. Despite the scientific shortcomings of these tests, they sufficed for us to select organic manufacture. Arquitetura Nova had defined its line of practice, studies, and research.
    There were other sources that were central to our theory and practice. Flávio Império was one of the founders of the Teatro de Arena, undoubtedly the vanguard of popular, militant theatre in Brazil. He won practically every set design award. He brought us his marvelous findings in spatial condensation and malleability, and in the creative diversion of techniques and material—appropriate devices for an underdeveloped country. This is what helped us pave the way to reformulating the reigning design paradigms. 

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