In our June issue Our June issue looks at the housing spectrum, with a particular focus on non-market and affordable housing. Odile Hénault starts our journey in Montreal, where two shelters—Le Christin by Atelier Big City and Les Studios du PAS by L. McComber in collaboration with Inform—offer dignity to people experiencing homelessness. We next travel to Beaverton Heights, a transitional housing project in the Region of Durham, Ontario. Designed by Montgomery Sisam Architects, the complex addresses the often-invisible homelessness of a rural area, and expands the aesthetic possibilities of modular construction. In Toronto, we visit Gerrard Healthy Housing by Atkinson Architect, which aims to add gentle density to an established neighbourhood. We also tour Anduhuaun, LGA Architectural Partners’ shelter for Indigenous women, which offers a place of nurture and grounding for its clients. LGA Architectural Partners is the coordinating firm behind the new Canadian Housing Catalogue, a repository of designs for multi-family homes. John Lorinc examines the catalogue’s potential for widespread uptake. Our long-read this month is a report by Yellowknife-based Kristel Derkowski on the driving factors behind the Northern housing crisis—and ways to start addressing it. In this month’s AIA Canada Society Journal, a quartet of Canadian educators explore how architecture schools are contributing to addressing the housing affordability crisis through research, studios, and hands-on initiatives. On the other end of the housing spectrum, Adele Weder visits Revery Architecture’s The Butterfly and First Baptist Church. She looks at how the striking landmark delivers tangible benefits for both residents and the wider public. Our issue is rounded out by an obituary for Dick Mah Sai-Chew (1928-2025), and reviews of books on the history of the barrack, James Strutt’s round houses, and sustainable housing in a circular economy. -Elsa Lam, editor The post June 2025 appeared first on Canadian Architect.

Standard modular construction was given a softened appearance with the addition of residential wood truss roofs and the introduction of shorter modules in select locations to create courtyards. Photo by doublespace photography PROJECT Durham Modular Transitional Housing, Beaverton, Ontario ARCHITECT Montgomery Sisam Architects Inc. In cities, homelessness can be painfully visible, in the form of encampments or people sleeping rough. But in rural areas, people experiencing homelessness are often hidden away. It’s this largely invisible but clearly present need that led to the construction of Beaverton Heights, a 47-unit transitional housing residence about 100 kilometres from Toronto that serves the northern part of the Regional Municipality of Durham. The region had run a pilot project for transitional housing in Durham during the Covid pandemic, out of a summer camp property—so when provincial and federal funding became available for modular, rapidly delivered transitional housing, they were quick to apply. Montgomery Sisam Architects is no stranger to modular supportive housing, or to the site, for that matter. 15 years ago, they designed Lakeview Manor, a 200-bed long-term care facility for the region, on an adjoining parcel of land. At the time that they took on Beaverton Heights, they had completed two modular supportive housing projects for the City of Toronto. (They have since completed four more.)  The initial Toronto projects were done on a massively compressed timeline—a mere eight months from design to the move-in date for the first, and nine months for the second. “So we knew that’s as tight as you can crunch it—and that’s with all the stars aligned,” says Montgomery Sisam principal Daniel Ling.  As transitional housing, the Beaverton facility is designed to help residents overcome their barriers to housing. To achieve this, the program not only includes residential units, but communal spaces, including a double-height dining room and lounge that occupy the western half of the project. This part of the complex can also be used independently, such as for community activities and health supports. To create the needed volume, Montgomery Sisam decided to prefabricate the community structure in steel: the entire west half of the project was constructed and assembled in a factory to ensure that it would fit together as intended, then disassembled and reassembled on site. The double-height community space includes a reading room, terrace, administrative areas, and communal dining room served by a full commercial kitchen. The building can also be used for community-wide functions, such as medical clinics. A cluster of columns marks the area where the dining area’s eight steel modular units join together. Photo by Tom Ridout For both the steel community structure and its wood residential counterpart, the prefabrication process was extensive, and included the in-factory installation of plumbing, electrical and mechanical systems, interior and exterior finishes, and even furnishings in each module. “Basically, just remove the plastic from the mattress and take the microwave from the box that’s already in the unit,” says Jacek Sochacki, manager of facilities design, construction, and asset management at the works department of the Regional Municipality of Durham. Within the building, the most extensive on-site work was in the hallways, where the modules met: building systems needed to connect up, and flooring and finishes needed to be completed over the joints after the modules were installed. One of the most surprising aspects of the project is how un-modular it looks. Montgomery Sisam’s previous experience with modular construction allowed them to find leeway in the process—small tweaks that would change the look of the project, without affecting the construction cost. The long site allowed the architects to use a single module as a glazed hallway, connecting the two buildings, and creating generous courtyards on its two sides. In two other areas, shorter modules are specified to transform the massing of the building. The resulting cut-outs serve as an entry forecourt and as a dining terrace. Instead of flat roofs, the team used residential trusses—“the same wood trusses you would see in subdivisions,” says Ling—to create sloped roof forms. From the outside, the windows of the residential units are slightly recessed behind a frame of wood cladding, adding further dimension to the façade.  Photo by doublespace photography Since it was a design-build process, all of these decisions were vetted through the builder for their cost effectiveness. “It wasn’t hard to convince them, we’re going to use some shorter modules—you are going to build less there,” recalls Ling. “These are things that actually don’t cost a lot of money.” The resulting massing is intentionally lower towards the front of the property, where the community space faces residential neighbours, and doubles to four storeys towards the back. As you approach the project, the courtyards and cut-outs give it the appearance of smaller discrete masses, rather than a single volume. Topping the project is the region’s largest solar panel array, which provides 35 to 40 percent of the all-electric building’s energy needs. Modular construction aided in airtightness and performance—in its first months of operation, it delivered an EUI of 102 kWh/m2/year.   Balancing between independence and community was an important principle for the program, and for the design. To this end, each studio is designed to function as a self-sufficient dwelling, with its own kitchen, full washroom, and heat pump with independent temperature control. Small spatial nudges—like daylight at both ends of corridors, seating nooks with built-in benches throughout the project, and generous common rooms—aim to coax residents outside of their units. The property is bracketed by the dining area at the front, and an outdoor basketball court at the rear. A long storage shed holds some of the facility’s mechanical equipment along with bikes—an easy way to get into town for residents who may not have cars.  Located between the residences and the community building, a semi-private courtyard offers a quiet place for clients to rest or socialize with others. Photo by doublespace photography The building looks so good that, had the finishes be chosen for luxury rather than durability, it could easily pass as a family resort. But is that too nice? Often, government-funded buildings—especially for a stigmatized program such as transitional housing—come under criticism if they appear to be too fancy.  I put this to Sochacki, who replies: “There’s this misnomer that if the building looks good or unique, it costs a lot of money. I think we proved that it doesn’t.” Apart from a wood surround for the fireplace, the components of the building are utilitarian and basic, he says. “It’s just like: how do you make the most out of common materials? It costs us exactly the same, but we’re doing things that are actually nice.” Screenshot That niceness is not just a perk, but essential to the core purpose of helping people experiencing homelessness to make their way back into society. “Making it nice is important,” says Sochacki. “Nice lighting, nice windows, nice places to sit, nice spaces that people enjoy being at—because that’s what’s going to make the difference.”  “If you build a place that people just want to spend all their time in their room and they don’t come out, that’s not going to help them with transitioning back to a sustainable, permanent housing lifestyle,” he adds. “You’ve got to create a place where they feel welcome and that they want to spend time in—they want to meet other people and they want to get the support, because there’s a place and space for it, and it’s successful for them to get the support.” A terrace adjoins the reading lounge and dining area, inviting outdoor barbecues and gatherings in warm weather. The cut-out was created by using a shorter module in this section of the building, minimizing the impact to construction costs and logistics. Photo by Tom Ridout CLIENT Regional Municipality of Durham | ARCHITECT TEAM Daniel Ling (FRAIC), Enda McDonagh, Kevin Hutchinson, Sonja Storey-Fleming, Mateusz Nowacki, Zheng Li, Grace Chang, Jake Pauls Wolf, Mustafa Munawar, Paul Kurti, William Tink, Victoria Ngai, Kavitha Jayakrishnan, Max Veneracion, Megan Lowes | STRUCTURAL/MECHANICAL/ELECTRICAL Design Works Engineering | LANDSCAPE Baker Turner | INTERIORS Montgomery Sisam Architects | CONTRACTOR NRB Modular Solutions | CIVIL Design Works Engineering | CODE Vortex Fire | FOOD SERVICES Kaizen Foodservice Planning & Design | ENERGY MODELlING Design Work Engineering | SPECIFICATIONS DGS Consulting Services | AREA 3,550 m2 | COMPLETION October 2024 ENERGY USE INTENSITY (operational) 101.98 kWh/m2/year   As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine  The post Invisible Need, Visible Care: Beaverton Heights, Beaverton, Ontario appeared first on Canadian Architect.

The turing test in reverse Real TikTokers are pretending to be Veo 3 AI creations for fun, attention From music videos to "Are you a prompt?" stunts, "real" videos are presenting as AI Kyle Orland – May 31, 2025 7:08 am | 13 Of course I'm an AI creation! Why would you even doubt it? Credit: Getty Images Of course I'm an AI creation! Why would you even doubt it? Credit: Getty Images Story text Size Small Standard Large Width * Standard Wide Links Standard Orange * Subscribers only   Learn more Since Google released its Veo 3 AI model last week, social media users have been having fun with its ability to quickly generate highly realistic eight-second clips complete with sound and lip-synced dialogue. TikTok's algorithm has been serving me plenty of Veo-generated videos featuring impossible challenges, fake news reports, and even surreal short narrative films, to name just a few popular archetypes. However, among all the AI-generated video experiments spreading around, I've also noticed a surprising counter-trend on my TikTok feed. Amid all the videos of Veo-generated avatars pretending to be real people, there are now also a bunch of videos of real people pretending to be Veo-generated avatars. “This has to be real. There’s no way it's AI.” I stumbled on this trend when the TikTok algorithm fed me this video topped with the extra-large caption "Google VEO 3 THIS IS 100% AI." As I watched and listened to the purported AI-generated band that appeared to be playing in the crowded corner of someone's living room, I read the caption containing the supposed prompt that had generated the clip: "a band of brothers with beards playing rock music in 6/8 with an accordion." @kongosmusicWe are so cooked. This took 3 mins to generate. Simple prompt: “a band of brothers playing rock music in 6/8 with an accordion”♬ original sound - KONGOS After a few seconds of taking those captions at face value, something started to feel a little off. After a few more seconds, I finally noticed the video was posted by Kongos, an indie band that you might recognize from their minor 2012 hit "Come With Me Now." And after a little digging, I discovered the band in the video was actually just Kongos, and the tune was a 9-year-old song that the band had dressed up as an AI creation to get attention. Here's the sad thing: It worked! Without the "Look what Veo 3 did!" hook, I might have quickly scrolled by this video before I took the time to listen to the (pretty good!) song. The novel AI angle made me stop just long enough to pay attention to a Kongos song for the first time in over a decade. Kongos isn't the only musical act trying to grab attention by claiming their real performances are AI creations. Darden Bela posted that Veo 3 had "created a realistic AI music video" over a clip from what is actually a 2-year-old music video with some unremarkable special effects. Rapper GameBoi Pat dressed up an 11-month-old song with a new TikTok clip captioned "Google's Veo 3 created a realistic sounding rapper... This has to be real. There's no way it's AI" (that last part is true, at least). I could go on, but you get the idea. @gameboi_pat This has got to be real. There’s no way it’s AI 😩 #google #veo3 #googleveo3 #AI #prompts #areweprompts? ♬ original sound - GameBoi_pat I know it's tough to get noticed on TikTok, and that creators will go to great lengths to gain attention from the fickle algorithm. Still, there's something more than a little off-putting about flesh-and-blood musicians pretending to be AI creations just to make social media users pause their scrolling for a few extra seconds before they catch on to the joke (or don't, based on some of the comments). The whole thing evokes last year's stunt where a couple of podcast hosts released a posthumous "AI-generated" George Carlin routine before admitting that it had been written by a human after legal threats started flying. As an attention-grabbing stunt, the conceit still works. You want AI-generated content? I can pretend to be that! Are we just prompts? Some of the most existentially troubling Veo-generated videos floating around TikTok these days center around a gag known as "the prompt theory." These clips focus on various AI-generated people reacting to the idea that they are "just prompts" with various levels of skepticism, fear, or even conspiratorial paranoia. On the other side of that gag, some humans are making joke videos playing off the idea that they're merely prompts. RedondoKid used the conceit in a basketball trick shot video, saying "of course I'm going to make this. This is AI, you put that I'm going to make this in the prompt." User thisisamurica thanked his faux prompters for putting him in "a world with such delicious food" before theatrically choking on a forkful of meat. And comedian Drake Cummings developed TikTok skits pretending that it was actually AI video prompts forcing him to indulge in vices like shots of alcohol or online gambling ("Goolgle’s [sic] New A.I. Veo 3 is at it again!! When will the prompts end?!" Cummings jokes in the caption). @justdrakenaround Goolgle’s New A.I. Veo 3 is at it again!! When will the prompts end?! #veo3 #google #ai #aivideo #skit ♬ original sound - Drake Cummings Beyond the obvious jokes, though, I've also seen a growing trend of TikTok creators approaching friends or strangers and asking them to react to the idea that "we're all just prompts." The reactions run the gamut from "get the fuck away from me" to "I blame that [prompter], I now have to pay taxes" to solipsistic philosophical musings from convenience store employees. I'm loath to call this a full-blown TikTok trend based on a few stray examples. Still, these attempts to exploit the confusion between real and AI-generated video are interesting to see. As one commenter on an "Are you a prompt?" ambush video put it: "New trend: Do normal videos and write 'Google Veo 3' on top of the video." Which one is real? The best Veo-related TikTok engagement hack I've stumbled on so far, though, might be the videos that show multiple short clips and ask the viewer to decide which are real and which are fake. One video I stumbled on shows an increasing number of "Veo 3 Goth Girls" across four clips, challenging in the caption that "one of these videos is real... can you guess which one?" In another example, two similar sets of kids are shown hanging out in cars while the caption asks, "Are you able to identify which scene is real and which one is from veo3?" @spongibobbu2 One of these videos is real… can you guess which one? #veo3 ♬ original sound - Jett After watching both of these videos on loop a few times, I'm relatively (but not entirely) convinced that every single clip in them is a Veo creation. The fact that I watched these videos multiple times shows how effective the "Real or Veo" challenge framing is at grabbing my attention. Additionally, I'm still not 100 percent confident in my assessments, which is a testament to just how good Google's new model is at creating convincing videos. There are still some telltale signs for distinguishing a real video from a Veo creation, though. For one, Veo clips are still limited to just eight seconds, so any video that runs longer (without an apparent change in camera angle) is almost certainly not generated by Google's AI. Looking back at a creator's other videos can also provide some clues—if the same person was appearing in "normal" videos two weeks ago, it's unlikely they would be appearing in Veo creations suddenly. There's also a subtle but distinctive style to most Veo creations that can distinguish them from the kind of candid handheld smartphone videos that usually fill TikTok. The lighting in a Veo video tends to be too bright, the camera movements a bit too smooth, and the edges of people and objects a little too polished. After you watch enough "genuine" Veo creations, you can start to pick out the patterns. Regardless, TikTokers trying to pass off real videos as fakes—even as a joke or engagement hack—is a recognition that video sites are now deep in the "deep doubt" era, where you have to be extra skeptical of even legitimate-looking video footage. And the mere existence of convincing AI fakes makes it easier than ever to claim real events captured on video didn't really happen, a problem that political scientists call the liar's dividend. We saw this when then-candidate Trump accused Democratic nominee Kamala Harris of "A.I.'d" crowds in real photos of her Detroit airport rally. For now, TikTokers of all stripes are having fun playing with that idea to gain social media attention. In the long term, though, the implications for discerning truth from reality are more troubling. Kyle Orland Senior Gaming Editor Kyle Orland Senior Gaming Editor Kyle Orland has been the Senior Gaming Editor at Ars Technica since 2012, writing primarily about the business, tech, and culture behind video games. He has journalism and computer science degrees from University of Maryland. He once wrote a whole book about Minesweeper. 13 Comments

Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre. Photo credit: Matias Kunzle The newly completed Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre (PRC) designed by Montgomery Sisam Architects in association with DDL Studio, is a first-of-its-kind acute mental health treatment facility in the Cayman Islands that is aiming to redefine care through architecture, nature, and community support. PRC is the Cayman Islands’ first purpose-built, government-run acute mental health treatment facility, which responds to the long-standing need for specialized, dignified care that allows residents to receive treatment closer to home. The name for Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre was inspired by the vibrant local Poinciana tree, known for its red blossoms. A Poinciana tree has been planted on the grounds as a living emblem of healing, growth, and connection to place. Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre. Photo credit: Matias Kunzle Historically, Caymanians who required mental health treatment had to travel to Jamaica or Florida, which placed an emotional and financial strain on families. PRC closes this gap by offering a therapeutic farm community that aims to empower residents through peer support, vocational training, and holistic care. The facility reflects the values of the Caymanian community, incorporating local stone, bright colours, and an emphasis on access to nature and culture. Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre. Photo credit: Matias Kunzle Dr. Lockhart, the Jamaican physician behind the project’s vision, saw the need for a more compassionate approach to mental health care, one that combines clinical treatment with community and nature. The campus includes nine six-bedroom cottages, and separate building structures for administration, clinical functions, dining, and other indoor activities. Cottages are designed with domestic-scale forms and finishes, and grouped to reflect a small island settlement, promoting privacy and dignity while ensuring passive supervision. Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre. Photo credit: Matias Kunzle Each cottage is painted in one of three natural tones: sun (ochre), sky (blue), or earth (terracotta), which help residents identify their home within the cluster. At the heart of the campus is a series of buildings known as the village square, that form a central gathering area, housing critical program spaces including staff offices, clinical exam rooms, counselling and treatment areas, multi-purpose activity rooms, classrooms, and meeting spaces. Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre. Photo credit: Matias Kunzle This cluster also features a lobby-reception area with a resident-run café and gift shop, offering training opportunities and fostering social connection in a non-institutional, community-like setting. Outdoor elements include fruit orchards, vegetable gardens, a labyrinth, basketball court, and quiet paths, all designed to provide daily contact with nature, encourage movement, and support healing. Poinciana Rehabilitation Centre. Photo credit: Matias Kunzle The buildings were clustered to preserve the existing landscape, minimize ground disturbance, and reflect the spirit of a small community. Newly planted native trees and shrubs also enrich the natural setting, creating a village-like environment. The campus also uses natural surveillance and biometric access control to ensure security without fences, bars, or institutional signage which support residents’ dignity, autonomy, and mental well-being. Additionally, the project incorporates passive design strategies, permeable ground surfaces, rainwater harvesting, and hurricane-resistant construction, while maximizing daylight and natural ventilation in all spaces. The post Montgomery Sisam Architects and DDL Studio design mental health treatment facility in the Cayman Islands appeared first on Canadian Architect.