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Doors (2022) Christian Marclay Institute of Contemporary Art Boston Through September 1, 2025Brooklyn Museum Through April 12, 2026On the screen, a movie clip plays of a character entering through a door to leave out another. It cuts to another clip of someone else doing the same thing over and over, all sourced from a panoply of Western cinema. The audience, sitting for an unknown amount of time, watches this shape-shifting protagonist from different cultural periods come and go, as the film endlessly loops. So goes Christian Marclay’s latest single-channel film, Doors (2022), currently exhibited for the first time in the United States at the Institute of Contemporary Art Boston. (It also premieres June 13 at the Brooklyn Museum and will run through April 12, 2026). Assembled over ten years, the film is a dizzying feat, a carefully crafted montage of film clips revolving around the simple premise of someone entering through a door and then leaving out a door. In the exhibition, Marclay writes, “Doors are fascinating objects, rich with symbolism.” Here, he shows hundreds of them, examining through film how the simple act of moving through a threshold multiplied endlessly creates a profoundly new reading of what said threshold signifies. On paper, this may sound like an extremely jarring experience. But Marclay—a visual artist, composer, and DJ whose previous works such as The Clock (2010) involved similar mega-montages of disparate film clips—has a sensitive touch. The sequences feel incredibly smooth, the montage carefully constructed to mimic continuity as closely as possible. This is even more impressive when one imagines the constraints that a door’s movement offers; it must open and close a certain direction, with particular types of hinges or means of swinging. It makes the seamlessness of the film all the more fascinating to dissect. When a tiny wooden doorframe cuts to a large double steel door, my brain had no issue at all registering a sense of continued motion through the frame—a form of cinematic magic. Christian Marclay, Doors (still), 2022. Single-channel video projection (color and black-and-white; 55:00 minutes on continuous loop). Watching the clips, there seemed to be no discernible meta narrative—simply movement through doors. Nevertheless, Marclay is a master of controlling tone. Though the relentlessness of watching the loops does create an overall feeling of tension that the film is clearly playing on, there are often moments of levity that interrupt, giving visitors a chance to breathe. The pacing too, swings from a person rushing in and out, to a slow stroll between doors in a corridor. It leaves one musing on just how ubiquitous this simple action is, and how mutable these simple acts of pulling a door and stepping inside can be. Sometimes mundane, sometimes thrilling, sometimes in anticipation, sometimes in search—Doors invites us to reflect on our own interaction with these objects, and with the very act of stepping through a doorframe. Much of the experience rests on the soundscape and music, which is equally—if not more heavily—important in creating the transition across clips. Marclay’s previous work leaned heavily on his interest in aural media; this added dimension only enriches Doors and elevates it beyond a formal visual study of clips that match each other. The film bleeds music from one scene to another, sometimes prematurely, to make believable the movement of one character across multiple movies. This overlap of sounds is essentially an echo of the space we left behind and are entering into. We as the audience almost believe—even if just for a second—that the transition is real. The effect is powerful and calls to mind several references. No doubt Doors owes some degree of inspiration to the lineage of surrealist art, perhaps in the work of Magritte or Duchamp. For those steeped in architecture, one may think of Bernard Tschumi’s Manhattan Transcripts, where his transcriptions of events, spaces, and movements similarly both shatter and call to attention simple spatial sequences. One may also be reminded of the work of Situationist International, particularly the psychogeography of Guy Debord. I confess that my first thought was the (in my view) equally famous door-chase scene in Monsters, Inc. But regardless of what corollaries one may conjure, Doors has a wholly unique feel. It is simplistic and singular in constructing its webbed world. Installation view, Christian Marclay: Doors, the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston, 2025. (Mel Taing) But what exactly are we to take away from this world? In an interview with Artforum, Marclay declares, “I’m building in people’s minds an architecture in which to get lost.” The clip evokes a certain act of labyrinthian mapping—or perhaps a mode of perpetual resetting. I began to imagine this almost as a non-Euclidean enfilade of sorts where each room invites you to quickly grasp a new environment and then very quickly anticipate what may be in the next. With the understanding that you can’t backtrack, and the unpredictability of the next door taking you anywhere, the film holds you in total suspense. The production of new spaces and new architecture is activated all at once in the moment someone steps into a new doorway. All of this is without even mentioning the chosen films themselves. There is a degree to which the pop-culture element of Marclay’s work makes certain moments click—I can’t help but laugh as I watch Adam Sandler in Punch Drunk Love exit a door and emerge as Bette Davis in All About Eve. But to a degree, I also see the references being secondary, and certainly unneeded to understand the visceral experience Marclay crafts. It helps that, aside from a couple of jarring character movements or one-off spoken jokes, the movement is repetitive and universal. Doors runs on a continuous loop. I sat watching for just under an hour before convincing myself that I would never find any appropriate or correct time to leave. Instead, I could sit endlessly and reflect on each character movement, each new reveal of a room. Is the door the most important architectural element in creating space? Marclay makes a strong case for it with this piece. Harish Krishnamoorthy is an architectural and urban designer based in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Bangalore, India. He is an editor at PAIRS.

A significant cyber breach at His Majesty’s Revenue and Customs (HMRC) that saw scammers cheat the public purse out of approximately £47m has been met with dismay from security experts thanks to the sheer simplicity of the attack, which originated via account takeover attempts on legitimate taxpayers. HMRC disclosed the breach to a Treasury Select Committee this week, revealing that hackers accessed the online accounts of about 100,000 people via phishing attacks and managed to claim a significant amount of money in tax rebates before being stopped. It is understood that those individuals affected have been contacted by HMRC – they have not personally lost any money and are not themselves in any trouble. Arrests in the case have already been made. During proceedings, HMRC also came in for criticism by the committee’s chair Meg Hillier, who had learned about the via an earlier news report on the matter, over the length of time taken to come clean over the incident. With phishing emails sent to unwitting taxpayers identified as the initial attack vector for the scammers, HMRC might feel relieved that it has dodged full blame for the incident. But according to Will Richmond-Coggan, a partner specialising in data and cyber disputes at law firm Freeths, even though the tax office had gone to pains to stress its own systems were never actually compromised, the incident underscored just how widespread the consequences of cyber attacks can be – snowballing from simple origins into a multimillion pound loss. “It is clear from HMRC's explanation that the crime against HMRC was only possible because of earlier data breaches and cyber attacks,” said Richmond-Coggan. “Those earlier attacks put personal data in the hands of the criminals which enabled them to impersonate tax payers and apply successfully to claim back tax.” Meanwhile, Gerasim Hovhannisyan, CEO of EasyDMARC, an email security provider, pointed out that phishing against both private individuals and businesses and other organisations had long ago moved beyond the domain of scammers chancing their luck. While this type of scattergun fraud remains a potent threat, particularly to consumers who may not be informed about cyber security matters – the scale of the HMRC phish surely suggests a targeted operation, likely using carefully crafted email purporting to represent HMRC itself, designed to lure self-assessment taxpayers into handing over their accounts. Not only that, but generative artificial intelligence (GenAI) means targeted phishing operations have become exponentially more dangerous in a very short space of time, added Hovhannisyan. “[It] has made [phishing] scalable, polished, and dangerously convincing, often indistinguishable from legitimate communication. And while many organisations have strengthened their security perimeters, email remains the most consistently exploited and underestimated attack vector,” he said. “These scams exploit human trust, using urgency, authority, and increasingly realistic impersonation tactics. If HMRC can be phished, anyone can.” Added Hovhannisyan: “What’s more alarming is that the Treasury Select Committee only learned of the breach through the news. When £47m is stolen through impersonation, institutions can’t afford to stay quiet. Delayed disclosure erodes trust, stalls response, and gives attackers room to manoeuvre.” Once again a service’s end-users have turned out to be the source of a cyber attack and as such, whether they are internal or – as in this case – external, are often considered an organisation’s first line of defence. However, it is not always wise to take this approach, and for an organisation like HMRC daily engaging with members of the public, it is also not really possible. Security education is a difficult proposition at the best of times and although the UK’s National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC) provides extensive advice and guidance on spotting and dealing with phishing emails for consumers – it also operates a phishing reporting service that as of April 2025 has received over 41 million scam reports – bodies like HMRC cannot rely on everybody having visited the NCSC’s website. As such, Mike Britton, chief information officer (CIO) at Abnormal AI, a specialist in phishing, social engineering and account takeover prevention, argued that HMRC could and should have done more from a technical perspective. “Governments will always be a high tier target for cyber criminals due to the valuable information they hold. In fact, attacks against this sector are rising,” he said. “In this case, it looks like criminals utilised account take over to conduct fraud. To combat this, multifactor authentication (MFA) is key, but as attacks grow more sophisticated, further steps must be taken.” Britton said organisations like HMRC really needed to consider adopting more layered security strategies, not only including MFA but also incorporating wider visibility and unified controls across its IT systems. Account takeover attacks such as the ones seen in this incident can unfold quickly, he added, so its cyber function should also be equipped with the tools to identify and remediate compromised accounts on the fly. Read more about trends in phishing Quishing, meaning QR code phishing, is an offputting term for an on-the-rise attack method. Learn how to defend against it. A healthy dose of judicious skepticism is crucial to preventing phishing attacks, said David Fine, supervisory special agent at the FBI, during a presentation at a HIMSS event. Exchange admins got a boost from Microsoft when it improved how it handles DMARC authentication failures to help organisations fight back from email-based attacks on their users.

PlayStation Studios, Arc System Works (Arc), and Marvel Games have joined forces to realize the latest in tag team fighters, MARVEL Tōkon: Fighting Souls! Experience the Marvel Universe like never before with reimagined characters and stages, a heart-pounding soundtrack, intuitive gameplay mechanics, and jaw-dropping visuals that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Whether this is your first fighting game or you are a veteran of the genre, Arc has incorporated gameplay controls and mechanics that are easy to pick up and play, and yet still offer the depth and versatility for high level competition. Play Video “From the beginning, we aimed to make MARVEL Tōkon: Fighting Souls a title that could be enjoyed by a wide variety of players,” explains Game Director and Lead Battle Designer, Kazuto Sekine. ”Generally, a team VS fighting game requires the player to learn multiple characters, but for MARVEL Tōkon: Fighting Souls, you only need to master one character in order to play the game. We have designed the mechanics in such a way that you can perform a variety of actions with either traditional fighting game inputs or simple inputs. With the press of a few buttons, multiple characters can appear on screen to provide backup or attack together – creating a new and exciting team VS battle experience.” “Since day one, our long-time and trusted collaborators at PlayStation and the team at Arc System Works have poured incredible amounts of talent and passion into reimagining the Marvel Universe in a way that only they can,” said Michael Francisco, Senior Product Development Manager, Marvel Games. “MARVEL Tōkon: Fighting Souls demonstrates that they are absolute masters of their craft and are true Marvel fans at heart. Players are in for a wild ride.” Characters Enter the fray with iconic Marvel heroes and villains such as Captain America, Iron Man, Spider-Man, Doctor Doom, Storm, Ms. Marvel, Star-Lord, and Ghost Rider (Robbie Reyes) – each with Arc’s unique twist on their character designs and gameplay styles. Arc Producer, Takeshi Yamanaka, states, “There are so many amazing Marvel characters that it was quite a struggle to choose our roster, but we did have some criteria for the selection process. First and foremost, we wanted to include characters who we feel to be the ‘face’ of Marvel. At the same time, we also needed to select characters that would give us a balance of battle types and styles. Lastly, we wanted to sprinkle in a few surprises and leave room for characters who have never been playable in a fighting game before.” Yamanaka-san continues, “Early on in the project, we experimented with a shader to recreate a more western comic-book visual style, but the Marvel team expressed a desire for us to lean into something more Arc-like. It was then that we switched our approach to the game’s visuals and began to lean more into the Japanimation style Arc is known for.” Gameplay mechanics From short-ranged jabs to the cinematic Ultimate Skills, each character features a bespoke set of Normal, Special, and Unique attacks inspired by their abilities and powers in Marvel lore. Arc have gone to great lengths to ensure that gameplay style, movement, and feel of these legendary characters is fresh, new, and wholly unique to MARVEL Tōkon: Fighting Souls. But it’s not just the individual gameplay of the characters that has been enhanced; significant dedication has gone into reimagining and redefining what it means to be a tag team fighter. “Team VS fighting games have a long tradition of 2v2 or 3v3 team formats, so this is something we discussed in-depth within the development team. We went back and forth many times, from thinking we might be better off making a 1v1 game or sticking to the established 3v3 format.” Sekine-san continues, “At its core, we felt that the appeal of team VS fighting games is the intensity of battles with multiple characters on screen at once. Additionally, one of the appeals of Marvel comics is seeing the vast cast of characters coming together to create all kinds of unique team-ups.” “With these two ideas in mind, we concluded that creating a 4v4 team VS system would be the best way to not only create those over-the-top moments, but to further evolve the tag fighting genre.” Stages The stages come to life in MARVEL Tōkon: Fighting Souls, filled with easter eggs for eagle-eyed fans to find. Most stages also feature multiple areas. These transitions between areas are not just action-packed and stunning to witness, but they also play a strategic role. Check out the screenshots from Marvel’s New York City to see what you can find.  More to come Today’s announcement is just the beginning of our journey. From characters and stages to gameplay modes and the online experience. There’s so much more we can’t wait to share with you!

F1 25 is a near-perfect mix of realism and playability that offers much of the drama from the real-life sport and a sprinkling of fiction and, uh, Brad Pitt just becauseTech18:11, 02 Jun 2025This year's game looks better than everIn many ways, writing an F1 25 review should be the easiest of this year’s critical assessments. Codemasters is legendary for its commitment to digital recreations of automotive competition (I’ve been playing its games since TOCA on the PS1 ), and having the F1 licence means it’ll always be cutting-edge in terms of racers, tracks, and more.If you’re an F1 fan, you’ve almost certainly already bought it, and while non-fans of sports games will baulk at paying for a “roster update” each year, Codemasters simply refuses to coast, keeping its foot firmly on the gas and moving from last year’s podium finish to Championship-winning form with this year’s entry.‌Conditions can be treacherous‌Last year’s F1 24 was easily one of the most impressive games to look at on PS5 Pro, and while Codemasters had talked a good game about visual fidelity , I wasn’t sure it would be able to take much of a realistic step beyond.And yet, F1 25 is frequently stunning. In motion, it’s hard to see anything wholly new, but that’s more down to the speed at which you’ll be taking corners of meticulously detailed tracks. Slow things down a tad, though, and you’ll find things a little less sterile than they had been.Whereas F1 24 circuits felt a little too clean at times, there’s a little more dirt here and there, more wear on the track, and even correctly identified tree species in tracks that have been scanned via LiDAR.Article continues belowIt’s likely an ongoing process, with Bahrain, Miami, Melbourne, Suzuka and Imola getting the scanned treatment so far, but it’s an impressive taste of what’s to come and could mean upcoming games look even better.On track, the handling model feels much breezier. You can still crank up the difficulty by leaving the assists in the pits, but cars feel more responsive than ever.You’ll need that, too, because some tracks can be driven in reverse (complete with mirrored pit lanes).‌You can still race, but you'll pick one of your stars to "follow" for the weekendThe crown jewel of this year’s entry, however, is My Team. The mode has always been solid, but lacking in ambition, but this year sees Codemasters really go to town on its underlying machinery.While you’ll no longer be some team owner/driver hybrid superstar like Tony Stark in Iron Man 2, that adds an interesting new flavour to the mode. You’ll start as boss of an existing team or form your own, and then hire drivers, work to improve your car, and try to woo sponsors.‌Because you’re no longer racing yourself, there are more magnanimous decisions to be made about car parts. Research costs time, manufacturing costs money, and then you’re left to decide which of your racers gets the added boost.Consistently upsetting one can see them look elsewhere, while you can plan for next season’s drivers right from the off, making a Lewis Hamilton-esque switch to a rival a pressing concern throughout the year.While much of My Team takes place in menus, they all feel dynamic enough to feel much more enjoyable than you might expect, and while it doesn’t get quite as deep as F1 Manager, it’s still full of potential.‌You can even sneak some star power onto the grid, too, taking the reins of Brad Pitt’s racing team from the upcoming F1 movie , or signing iconic former drivers to build a dream lineup.As an aside, I love that EA is experimenting with things like this in its career modes, especially since EA FC added Icons to its own version. Long may it continue.Konnersport are now vying for titles(Image: EA)‌Another big return this year comes from Braking Point , marking its third instalment. The mode that essentially condenses a season’s worth of drama into playable chunks with a healthy dose of inspiration from Netflix ’s Drive to Survive is back as part of its “one season off, one season on” cadence.It’s packed with sporting cliches and no small amount of cheese, but it humanises a sport that can sometimes feel more focuses on cutting seconds off a lap than it can the drivers doing that work.After years of building a team, Konnersport is finally competing for the Championship, and players can switch between their driver roster to achieve different objectives, and there’s an alternative ending for those willing to commit.Article continues belowF1 25 is the best entry in years, with changes big and small piling up to offer a truly immersive and feature-packed title.My Team will get the plaudits (and rightfully so), but Braking Point’s return and Codemasters’ continued commitment to realism shouldn’t be forgotten.Reviewed on PS5 Pro. Review copy provided by the publisher.‌‌‌

The Utah court of appeals has sanctioned a lawyer after he was discovered to have used ChatGPT for a filing he made in which he referenced a nonexistent court case.Earlier this week, the Utah court of appeals made the decision to sanction Richard Bednar over claims that he filed a brief which included false citations.According to court documents reviewed by ABC4, Bednar and Douglas Durbano, another Utah-based lawyer who was serving as the petitioner’s counsel, filed a “timely petition for interlocutory appeal”.Upon reviewing the brief which was written by a law clerk, the respondent’s counsel found several false citations of cases.“It appears that at least some portions of the Petition may be AI-generated, including citations and even quotations to at least one case that does not appear to exist in any legal database (and could only be found in ChatGPT and references to cases that are wholly unrelated to the referenced subject matter,” the respondent’s counsel said in documents reviewed by ABC4.The outlet reports that the brief referenced a case titled “Royer v Nelson”, which did not exist in any legal database.Following the discovery of the false citations, Bednar “acknowledged ‘the errors contained in the petition’ and apologized”, according to a document from the Utah court of appeals, ABC4 reports. It went on to add that during a hearing in April, Bednar and his attorney “acknowledged that the petition contained fabricated legal authority, which was obtained from ChatGPT, and they accepted responsibility for the contents of the petition”.According to Bednar and his attorney, an “unlicensed law clerk” wrote up the brief and Bednar did not “independently check the accuracy” before he made the filing. ABC4 further reports that Durbano was not involved in the creation of the petition and the law clerk responsible for the filing was a law school graduate who was terminated from the law firm.The outlet added that Bednar offered to pay any related attorney fees to “make amends”.In a statement reported by ABC4, the Utah court of appeals said: “We agree that the use of AI in the preparation of pleadings is a legal research tool that will continue to evolve with advances in technology. However, we emphasize that every attorney has an ongoing duty to review and ensure the accuracy of their court filings. In the present case, petitioner’s counsel fell short of their gatekeeping responsibilities as members of the Utah State Bar when they submitted a petition that contained fake precedent generated by ChatGPT.”As a result of the false citations, ABC4 reports that Bednar was ordered to pay the respondent’s attorney fees for the petition and hearing, refund fees to their client for the time used to prepare the filing and attend the hearing, as well as donate $1,000 to the Utah-based legal non-profit And Justice for All.

The housing crisis in Canada’s North, which has particularly affected the majority Indigenous population in northern communities, has been of ongoing concern to firms such as Taylor Architecture Group (TAG). Formerly known as Pin/Taylor, the firm was established in Yellowknife in 1983. TAG’s Principal, Simon Taylor, says that despite recent political gains for First Nations, “by and large, life is not improving up here.” Taylor and his colleagues have designed many different types of housing across the North. But the problems exceed the normal scope of architectural practice. TAG’s Manager of Research and Development, Kristel Derkowski, says, “We can design the units well, but it doesn’t solve many of the underlying problems.” To respond, she says, “we’ve backed up the process to look at the root causes more.” As a result, “the design challenges are informed by much broader systemic research.”  We spoke to Derkowski about her research, and the work that Taylor Architecture Group is doing to act on it. Here’s what she has to say. Inadequate housing from the start The Northwest Territories is about 51% Indigenous. Most non-Indigenous people are concentrated in the capital city of Yellowknife. Outside of Yellowknife, the territory is very much majority Indigenous.  The federal government got involved in delivering housing to the far North in 1959. There were problems with this program right from the beginning. One issue was that when the houses were first delivered, they were designed and fabricated down south, and they were completely inadequate for the climate. The houses from that initial program were called “Matchbox houses” because they were so small. These early stages of housing delivery helped establish the precedent that a lower standard of housing was acceptable for northern Indigenous residents compared to Euro-Canadian residents elsewhere. In many cases, that double-standard persists to this day. The houses were also inappropriately designed for northern cultures. It’s been said in the research that the way that these houses were delivered to northern settlements was a significant factor in people being divorced from their traditional lifestyles, their traditional hierarchies, the way that they understood home. It was imposing a Euro-Canadian model on Indigenous communities and their ways of life.  Part of what the federal government was trying to do was to impose a cash economy and stimulate a market. They were delivering houses and asking for rent. But there weren’t a lot of opportunities to earn cash. This housing was delivered around the sites of former fur trading posts—but the fur trade had collapsed by 1930. There weren’t a lot of jobs. There wasn’t a lot of wage-based employment. And yet, rental payments were being collected in cash, and the rental payments increased significantly over the span of a couple decades.  The imposition of a cash economy created problems culturally. It’s been said that public housing delivery, in combination with other social policies, served to introduce the concept of poverty in the far North, where it hadn’t existed before. These policies created a situation where Indigenous northerners couldn’t afford to be adequately housed, because housing demanded cash, and cash wasn’t always available. That’s a big theme that continues to persist today. Most of the territory’s communities remain “non-market”: there is no housing market. There are different kinds of economies in the North—and not all of them revolve wholly around cash. And yet government policies do. The governments’ ideas about housing do, too. So there’s a conflict there.  The federal exit from social housing After 1969, the federal government devolved housing to the territorial government. The Government of Northwest Territories created the Northwest Territories Housing Corporation. By 1974, the housing corporation took over all the stock of federal housing and started to administer it, in addition to building their own. The housing corporation was rapidly building new housing stock from 1975 up until the mid-1990s. But beginning in the early 1990s, the federal government terminated federal spending on new social housing across the whole country. A couple of years after that, they also decided to allow operational agreements with social housing providers to expire. It didn’t happen that quickly—and maybe not everybody noticed, because it wasn’t a drastic change where all operational funding disappeared immediately. But at that time, the federal government was in 25- to 50-year operational agreements with various housing providers across the country. After 1995, these long-term operating agreements were no longer being renewed—not just in the North, but everywhere in Canada.  With the housing corporation up here, that change started in 1996, and we have until 2038 before the federal contribution of operational funding reaches zero. As a result, beginning in 1996, the number of units owned by the NWT Housing Corporation plateaued. There was a little bump in housing stock after that—another 200 units or so in the early 2000s. But basically, the Northwest Territories was stuck for 25 years, from 1996 to 2021, with the same number of public housing units. In 1990, there was a report on housing in the NWT that was funded by the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC). That report noted that housing was already in a crisis state. At that time, in 1990, researchers said it would take 30 more years to meet existing housing need, if housing production continued at the current rate. The other problem is that houses were so inadequately constructed to begin with, that they generally needed replacement after 15 years. So housing in the Northwest Territories already had serious problems in 1990. Then in 1996, the housing corporation stopped building more. So if you compare the total number of social housing units with the total need for subsidized housing in the territory, you can see a severely widening gap in recent decades. We’ve seen a serious escalation in housing need. The Northwest Territories has a very, very small tax base, and it’s extremely expensive to provide services here. Most of our funding for public services comes from the federal government. The NWT on its own does not have a lot of buying power. So ever since the federal government stopped providing operational funding for housing, the territorial government has been hard-pressed to replace that funding with its own internal resources. I should probably note that this wasn’t only a problem for the Northwest Territories. Across Canada, we have seen mass homelessness visibly emerge since the ’90s. This is related, at least in part, to the federal government’s decisions to terminate funding for social housing at that time. Today’s housing crisis Getting to present-day conditions in the NWT, we now have some “market” communities and some “non-market” communities. There are 33 communities total in the NWT, and at least 27 of these don’t have a housing market: there’s no private rental market and there’s no resale market. This relates back to the conflict I mentioned before: the cash economy did not entirely take root. In simple terms, there isn’t enough local employment or income opportunity for a housing market—in conventional terms—to work.  Yellowknife is an outlier in the territory. Economic opportunity is concentrated in the capital city. We also have five other “market” communities that are regional centres for the territorial government, where more employment and economic activity take place. Across the non-market communities, on average, the rate of unsuitable or inadequate housing is about five times what it is elsewhere in Canada. Rates of unemployment are about five times what they are in Yellowknife. On top of this, the communities with the highest concentration of Indigenous residents also have the highest rates of unsuitable or inadequate housing, and also have the lowest income opportunity. These statistics clearly show that the inequalities in the territory are highly racialized.  Given the situation in non-market communities, there is a severe affordability crisis in terms of the cost to deliver housing. It’s very, very expensive to build housing here. A single detached home costs over a million dollars to build in a place like Fort Good Hope (Rádeyı̨lı̨kóé). We’re talking about a very modest three-bedroom house, smaller than what you’d typically build in the South. The million-dollar price tag on each house is a serious issue. Meanwhile, in a non-market community, the potential resale value is extremely low. So there’s a massive gap between the cost of construction and the value of the home once built—and that’s why you have no housing market. It means that private development is impossible. That’s why, until recently, only the federal and territorial governments have been building new homes in non-market communities. It’s so expensive to do, and as soon as the house is built, its value plummets.  The costs of living are also very high. According to the NWT Bureau of Statistics, the estimated living costs for an individual in Fort Good Hope are about 1.8 times what it costs to live in Edmonton. Then when it comes to housing specifically, there are further issues with operations and maintenance. The NWT is not tied into the North American hydro grid, and in most communities, electricity is produced by a diesel generator. This is extremely expensive. Everything needs to be shipped in, including fuel. So costs for heating fuel are high as well, as are the heating loads. Then, maintenance and repairs can be very difficult, and of course, very costly. If you need any specialized parts or specialized labour, you are flying those parts and those people in from down South. So to take on the costs of homeownership, on top of the costs of living—in a place where income opportunity is limited to begin with—this is extremely challenging. And from a statistical or systemic perspective, this is simply not in reach for most community members. In 2021, the NWT Housing Corporation underwent a strategic renewal and became Housing Northwest Territories. Their mandate went into a kind of flux. They started to pivot from being the primary landlord in the territory towards being a partner to other third-party housing providers, which might be Indigenous governments, community housing providers, nonprofits, municipalities. But those other organisations, in most cases, aren’t equipped or haven’t stepped forward to take on social housing. Even though the federal government is releasing capital funding for affordable housing again, northern communities can’t always capitalize on that, because the source of funding for operations remains in question. Housing in non-market communities essentially needs to be subsidized—not just in terms of construction, but also in terms of operations. But that operational funding is no longer available. I can’t stress enough how critical this issue is for the North. Fort Good Hope and “one thing that (kind of) worked” I’ll talk a bit about Fort Good Hope. I don’t want to be speaking on behalf of the community here, but I will share a bit about the realities on the ground, as a way of putting things into context.  Fort Good Hope, or Rádeyı̨lı̨kóé, is on the Mackenzie River, close to the Arctic Circle. There’s a winter road that’s open at best from January until March—the window is getting narrower because of climate change. There were also barges running each summer for material transportation, but those have been cancelled for the past two years because of droughts linked to climate change. Aside from that, it’s a fly-in community. It’s very remote. It has about 500-600 people. According to census data, less than half of those people live in what’s considered acceptable housing.  The biggest problem is housing adequacy. That’s CMHC’s term for housing in need of major repairs. This applies to about 36% of households in Fort Good Hope. In terms of ownership, almost 40% of the community’s housing stock is managed by Housing NWT. That’s a combination of public housing units and market housing units—which are for professionals like teachers and nurses. There’s also a pretty high percentage of owner-occupied units—about 46%.  The story told by the community is that when public housing arrived in the 1960s, the people were living in owner-built log homes. Federal agents arrived and they considered some of those homes to be inadequate or unacceptable, and they bulldozed those homes, then replaced some of them—but maybe not all—with public housing units. Then residents had no choice but to rent from the people who took their homes away. This was not a good way to start up a public housing system. The state of housing in Fort Good Hope Then there was an issue with the rental rates, which drastically increased over time. During a presentation to a government committee in the ’80s, a community member explained that they had initially accepted a place in public housing for a rental fee of $2 a month in 1971. By 1984, the same community member was expected to pay $267 a month. That might not sound like much in today’s terms, but it was roughly a 13,000% increase for that same tenant—and it’s not like they had any other housing options to choose from. So by that point, they’re stuck with paying whatever is asked.  On top of that, the housing units were poorly built and rapidly deteriorated. One description from that era said the walls were four inches thick, with windows oriented north, and water tanks that froze in the winter and fell through the floor. The single heating source was right next to the only door—residents were concerned about the fire hazard that obviously created. Ultimately the community said: “We don’t actually want any more public housing units. We want to go back to homeownership, which was what we had before.”  So Fort Good Hope was a leader in housing at that time and continues to be to this day. The community approached the territorial government and made a proposal: “Give us the block funding for home construction, we’ll administer it ourselves, we’ll help people build houses, and they can keep them.” That actually worked really well. That was the start of the Homeownership Assistance Program (HAP) that ran for about ten years, beginning in 1982. The program expanded across the whole territory after it was piloted in Fort Good Hope. The HAP is still spoken about and written about as the one thing that kind of worked.  Self-built log cabins remain from Fort Good Hope’s 1980s Homeownership Program (HAP). Funding was cost-shared between the federal and territorial governments. Through the program, material packages were purchased for clients who were deemed eligible. The client would then contribute their own sweat equity in the form of hauling logs and putting in time on site. They had two years to finish building the house. Then, as long as they lived in that home for five more years, the loan would be forgiven, and they would continue owning the house with no ongoing loan payments. In some cases, there were no mechanical systems provided as part of this package, but the residents would add to the house over the years. A lot of these units are still standing and still lived in today. Many of them are comparatively well-maintained in contrast with other types of housing—for example, public housing units. It’s also worth noting that the one-time cost of the materials package was—from the government’s perspective—only a fraction of the cost to build and maintain a public housing unit over its lifespan. At the time, it cost about $50,000 to $80,000 to build a HAP home, whereas the lifetime cost of a public housing unit is in the order of $2,000,000. This program was considered very successful in many places, especially in Fort Good Hope. It created about 40% of their local housing stock at that time, which went from about 100 units to about 140. It’s a small community, so that’s quite significant.  What were the successful principles? The community-based decision-making power to allocate the funding. The sweat equity component, which brought homeownership within the range of being attainable for people—because there wasn’t cash needing to be transferred, when the cash wasn’t available. Local materials—they harvested the logs from the land, and the fact that residents could maintain the homes themselves. The Fort Good Hope Construction Centre. Rendering by Taylor Architecture Group The Fort Good Hope Construction Centre The HAP ended the same year that the federal government terminated new spending on social housing. By the late 1990s, the creation of new public housing stock or new homeownership units had gone down to negligible levels. But more recently, things started to change. The federal government started to release money to build affordable housing. Simultaneously, Indigenous governments are working towards Self-Government and settling their Land Claims. Federal funds have started to flow directly to Indigenous groups. Given these changes, the landscape of Northern housing has started to evolve. In 2016, Fort Good Hope created the K’asho Got’ine Housing Society, based on the precedent of the 1980s Fort Good Hope Housing Society. They said: “We did this before, maybe we can do it again.” The community incorporated a non-profit and came up with a five-year plan to meet housing need in their community. One thing the community did right away was start up a crew to deliver housing maintenance and repairs. This is being run by Ne’Rahten Developments Ltd., which is the business arm of Yamoga Land Corporation (the local Indigenous Government). Over the span of a few years, they built up a crew of skilled workers. Then Ne’Rahten started thinking, “Why can’t we do more? Why can’t we build our own housing?” They identified a need for a space where people could work year-round, and first get training, then employment, in a stable all-season environment. This was the initial vision for the Fort Good Hope Construction Centre, and this is where TAG got involved. We had some seed funding through the CMHC Housing Supply Challenge when we partnered with Fort Good Hope. We worked with the community for over a year to get the capital funding lined up for the project. This process required us to take on a different role than the one you typically would as an architect. It wasn’t just schematic-design-to-construction-administration. One thing we did pretty early on was a housing design workshop that was open to the whole community, to start understanding what type of housing people would really want to see. Another piece was a lot of outreach and advocacy to build up support for the project and partnerships—for example, with Housing Northwest Territories and Aurora College. We also reached out to our federal MP, the NWT Legislative Assembly and different MLAs, and we talked to a lot of different people about the link between employment and housing. The idea was that the Fort Good Hope Construction Centre would be a demonstration project. Ultimately, funding did come through for the project—from both CMHC and National Indigenous Housing Collaborative Inc. The facility itself will not be architecturally spectacular. It’s basically a big shed where you could build a modular house. But the idea is that the construction of those houses is combined with training, and it creates year-round indoor jobs. It intends to combat the short construction seasons, and the fact that people would otherwise be laid off between projects—which makes it very hard to progress with your training or your career. At the same time, the Construction Centre will build up a skilled labour force that otherwise wouldn’t exist—because when there’s no work, skilled people tend to leave the community. And, importantly, the idea is to keep capital funding in the community. So when there’s a new arena that needs to get built, when there’s a new school that needs to get built, you have a crew of people who are ready to take that on. Rather than flying in skilled labourers, you actually have the community doing it themselves. It’s working towards self-determination in housing too, because if those modular housing units are being built in the community, by community members, then eventually they’re taking over design decisions and decisions about maintenance—in a way that hasn’t really happened for decades. Transitional homeownership My research also looked at a transitional homeownership model that adapts some of the successful principles of the 1980s HAP. Right now, in non-market communities, there are serious gaps in the housing continuum—that is, the different types of housing options available to people. For the most part, you have public housing, and you have homelessness—mostly in the form of hidden homelessness, where people are sleeping on the couches of relatives. Then, in some cases, you have inherited homeownership—where people got homes through the HAP or some other government program. But for the most part, not a lot of people in non-market communities are actually moving into homeownership anymore. I asked the local housing manager in Fort Good Hope: “When’s the last time someone built a house in the community?” She said, “I can only think of one person. It was probably about 20 years ago, and that person actually went to the bank and got a mortgage. If people have a home, it’s usually inherited from their parents or from relatives.” And that situation is a bit of a problem in itself, because it means that people can’t move out of public housing. Public housing traps you in a lot of ways. For example, it punishes employment, because rent is geared to income. It’s been said many times that this model disincentivizes employment. I was in a workshop last year where an Indigenous person spoke up and said, “Actually, it’s not disincentivizing, it punishes employment. It takes things away from you.” Somebody at the territorial housing corporation in Yellowknife told me, “We have clients who are over the income threshold for public housing, but there’s nowhere else they can go.” Theoretically, they would go to the private housing market, they would go to market housing, or they would go to homeownership, but those options don’t exist or they aren’t within reach.  So the idea with the transitional homeownership model is to create an option that could allow the highest income earners in a non-market community to move towards homeownership. This could take some pressure off the public housing system. And it would almost be like a wealth distribution measure: people who are able to afford the cost of operating and maintaining a home then have that option, instead of remaining in government-subsidized housing. For those who cannot, the public housing system is still an option—and maybe a few more public housing units are freed up.  I’ve developed about 36 recommendations for a transitional homeownership model in northern non-market communities. The recommendations are meant to be actioned at various scales: at the scale of the individual household, the scale of the housing provider, and the scale of the whole community. The idea is that if you look at housing as part of a whole system, then there are certain moves that might make sense here—in a non-market context especially—that wouldn’t make sense elsewhere. So for example, we’re in a situation where a house doesn’t appreciate in value. It’s not a financial asset, it’s actually a financial liability, and it’s something that costs a lot to maintain over the years. Giving someone a house in a non-market community is actually giving them a burden, but some residents would be quite willing to take this on, just to have an option of getting out of public housing. It just takes a shift in mindset to start considering solutions for that kind of context. One particularly interesting feature of non-market communities is that they’re still functioning with a mixed economy: partially a subsistence-based or traditional economy, and partially a cash economy. I think that’s actually a strength that hasn’t been tapped into by territorial and federal policies. In the far North, in-kind and traditional economies are still very much a way of life. People subsidize their groceries with “country food,” which means food that was harvested from the land. And instead of paying for fuel tank refills in cash, many households in non-market communities are burning wood as their primary heat source. In communities south of the treeline, like Fort Good Hope, that wood is also harvested from the land. Despite there being no exchange of cash involved, these are critical economic activities—and they are also part of a sustainable, resilient economy grounded in local resources and traditional skills. This concept of the mixed economy could be tapped into as part of a housing model, by bringing back the idea of a ‘sweat equity’ contribution instead of a down payment—just like in the HAP. Contributing time and labour is still an economic exchange, but it bypasses the ‘cash’ part—the part that’s still hard to come by in a non-market community. Labour doesn’t have to be manual labour, either. There are all kinds of work that need to take place in a community: maybe taking training courses and working on projects at the Construction Centre, maybe helping out at the Band Office, or providing childcare services for other working parents—and so on. So it could be more inclusive than a model that focuses on manual labour. Another thing to highlight is a rent-to-own trial period. Not every client will be equipped to take on the burdens of homeownership. So you can give people a trial period. If it doesn’t work out and they can’t pay for operations and maintenance, they could continue renting without losing their home. Then it’s worth touching on some basic design principles for the homeownership units. In the North, the solutions that work are often the simplest—not the most technologically innovative. When you’re in a remote location, specialized replacement parts and specialized labour are both difficult to come by. And new technologies aren’t always designed for extreme climates—especially as we trend towards the digital. So rather than installing technologically complex, high-efficiency systems, it actually makes more sense to build something that people are comfortable with, familiar with, and willing to maintain. In a southern context, people suggest solutions like solar panels to manage energy loads. But in the North, the best thing you can do for energy is put a woodstove in the house. That’s something we’ve heard loud and clear in many communities. Even if people can’t afford to fill their fuel tank, they’re still able to keep chopping wood—or their neighbour is, or their brother, or their kid, and so on. It’s just a different way of looking at things and a way of bringing things back down to earth, back within reach of community members.  Regulatory barriers to housing access: Revisiting the National Building Code On that note, there’s one more project I’ll touch on briefly. TAG is working on a research study, funded by Housing, Infrastructure and Communities Canada, which looks at regulatory barriers to housing access in the North. The National Building Code (NBC) has evolved largely to serve the southern market context, where constraints and resources are both very different than they are up here. Technical solutions in the NBC are based on assumptions that, in some cases, simply don’t apply in northern communities. Here’s a very simple example: minimum distance to a fire hydrant. Most of our communities don’t have fire hydrants at all. We don’t have municipal services. The closest hydrant might be thousands of kilometres away. So what do we do instead? We just have different constraints to consider. That’s just one example but there are many more. We are looking closely at the NBC, and we are also working with a couple of different communities in different situations. The idea is to identify where there are conflicts between what’s regulated and what’s actually feasible, viable, and practical when it comes to on-the-ground realities. Then we’ll look at some alternative solutions for housing. The idea is to meet the intent of the NBC, but arrive at some technical solutions that are more practical to build, easier to maintain, and more appropriate for northern communities.  All of the projects I’ve just described are fairly recent, and very much still ongoing. We’ll see how it all plays out. I’m sure we’re going to run into a lot of new barriers and learn a lot more on the way, but it’s an incremental trial-and-error process. Even with the Construction Centre, we’re saying that this is a demonstration project, but how—or if—it rolls out in other communities would be totally community-dependent, and it could look very, very different from place to place.  In doing any research on Northern housing, one of the consistent findings is that there is no one-size-fits-all solution. Northern communities are not all the same. There are all kinds of different governance structures, different climates, ground conditions, transportation routes, different population sizes, different people, different cultures. Communities are Dene, Métis, Inuvialuit, as well as non-Indigenous, all with different ways of being. One-size-fits-all solutions don’t work—they never have. And the housing crisis is complex, and it’s difficult to unravel. So we’re trying to move forward with a few different approaches, maybe in a few different places, and we’re hoping that some communities, some organizations, or even some individual people, will see some positive impacts.  As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine  The post Insites: Addressing the Northern housing crisis appeared first on Canadian Architect.

Nvidia's RTX Remix is a remarkable tool that allows game modders to bring state-of-the-art path traced visuals to classic PC games. We've seen Portal RTX from Nvidia already, along with the development of a full-on remaster of Half-Life 2 - but I was excited to see a community of modders take on 2004's Painkiller, enhanced now to become Painkiller RTX. It's still a work-in-progress project as of version 0.1.6, but what I've seen so far is still highly impressive - and if you have the means, I recommend checking it out. The whole reason RTX Remix works with the original Painkiller is due to its custom rendering technology, known as the PainEngine. This 2004 release from People Can Fly Studios was built around Direct X 8.1, which gave it stellar visuals at the time, including bloom effects – specular lighting with limited bump mapping and full framebuffer distortion effects. Those visuals dazzled top-end GPU owners of the time, but like a great number of PC releases from that era, it had a DX7 fallback which culled the fancier shading effects and could even run on GPUs like the original GeForce. RTX Remix uses the fixed function DX7 path and replaces the core rendering with the path tracer - and that is how I have been playing the game these last few days, taking in the sights and sounds of Painkiller with a new lick of paint. It's an upgrade that has made me appreciate it all the more now in 2025 as it is quite a special game that history has mostly forgotten. To fully enjoy the modders' work on the path-traced upgrade to Painkiller, we highly recommend this video.Watch on YouTube Painkiller is primarily a singleplayer first-person shooter that bucked the trends of the time period. After Half-Life and Halo: Combat Evolved, many first person shooters trended towards a more grounded and storytelling-based design. The classic FPS franchises like Quake or Unreal had gone on to become wholly focused on multiplayer, or else transitioned to the storytelling route - like Doom 3, for example. Painkiller took all of those 'modern' trappings and threw them in the garbage. A narrative only exists in a loose sense with pre-rendered video that bookends the game’s chapters, acting only as a flimsy excuse to send the player to visually distinct levels that have no thematic linking beyond pointing you towards enemies that you should dispatch with a variety of weapons. The basic gameplay sounds familiar if you ever played Doom Eternal or Doom 2016. It is simple on paper, but thanks to the enemy and level variety and the brilliant weaponry, it does not get tiring. The game enhanced its traditional FPS gameplay with an extensive use of Havok physics – where a great deal of the game’s environmental objects could be broken up into tiny pieces with rigid body movement on all the little fragments, or environmental objects could be manipulated with ragdoll or rope physics. Sometimes it is there for purely visual entertainment but other times it has a gameplay purpose with destructible objects often containing valuable resources or being useful as a physics weapon against the game's enemies. So, what's the score with Painkiller RTX? Well, the original's baked lighting featured hardly any moving lights and no real-time perspective-correct shadows - so all of that is added as part and parcel of the path-traced visuals. The RTX renderer also takes advantage of ray-traced fog volumes, showing shadows in the fog in the areas where light is obscured. Another aspect you might notice is that the game’s various pickups have been now made to be light-emissive. In the original game, emissives textures are used to keep things full bright even in darkness, but they themselves emit no light. Since the path tracer fully supports emissive lighting from any arbitrary surface, they all now cast light, making them stand out even more in the environment. To see this content please enable targeting cookies. The original game extensively used physics objects, which tended to lead to a clash in lighting and shading for any moving objects, which were incongruous then with the static baked lighting. Turn on the path tracer and these moving objects are grounded into the environment with shadows of their own, while receiving and casting light themselves. Boss battles are transformed as those enemies are also fully grounded in the surrounding environments, perfectly integrated into the path-traced visuals - and even if the titanic enemies are off-screen, their shadows are not. The main difference in many scenes is just down to the new lighting - it's more physicalised now as dynamic objects are properly integrated, no longer floating or glowing strangely. One reason for this is due to lighting resolution. The original lighting was limited by trying to fit in 256MB of VRAM, competing for space with the game’s high resolution textures. Painkiller RTX's lighting and shadowing is achieved at a per-pixel level in the path tracer, which by necessity means that you tend to see more nuance, along with more bounce lighting as it is no longer erased away by bilinear filtering on chunky light map textures. Alongside more dynamism and detail, there are a few new effects too. Lit fog is heavily used now in many levels - perhaps at its best in the asylum level where the moonlight and rain are now illuminated, giving the level more ambience than it had before. There is also some occasional usage of glass lighting effects like the stain glass windows in the game now filtering light through them properly, colouring the light on the ground in the pattern of the individual mosaic patterns found on their surface. Half-Life 2 RTX - built on RTX Remix - recently received a demo release. It's the flagship project for the technology, but modders have delivered path traced versions of many modern games.Watch on YouTube New textures and materials interact with the path tracer in ways that transform the game. For some objects, I believe the modders used Quixel megascan assets to give the materials parallax along with a high resolution that is artistically similar to the original game. A stoney ground in the graveyard now actually looks stoney, thanks to a different texture: a rocky material with craggy bits and crevices that obscure light and cast micro shadows, for example. Ceramic tiles on the floor now show varying levels of depth and cracks that pick up a very dull level of reflectivity from the moon-lit sky. Some textures are also updated by running them through generative tools which interpret dark areas of the baked textures as recesses and lighter areas as raised edges and assigns them a heightmap. This automated process works quite well for textures whose baked features are easily interpreted, but for textures that had a lot of noise added into them to simulate detail, the automated process can be less successful. That is the main issue I would say with the RTX version so far: some of these automated textures have a few too many bumps in them, making them appear unnatural. But that is just the heightmap data as the added in material values to give the textures sheen tend to look universally impressive. The original game barely has any reflectivity, and now a number of select surfaces show reflections in full effect, like the marble floors at the end of the game's second level. For the most part though, the remix of textures from this mod is subtle, with many textures still being as diffuse as found in the original game: rocky and dirty areas in particular look much the same as before, just with more accurately rendered shadows and bounce lighting - but without the plasticy sheen you might typically find in a seventh generation game. Whether maxed on an RTX 5090 or running on optimised settings on an RTX 4060, the current work-in-progress version of Painkiller RTX can certainly challenge hardware. | Image credit: Digital Foundry Make no mistake though: path tracing doesn't come cheap and to play this game at decent frame-rates, you either need to invest in high performance hardware or else accept some compromises to settings. Being a user mod that's still in development, I imagine this could improve in later versions but at the moment, Painkiller RTX maxed out is very heavy - even heavier than Portal RTX. So if you want to play it on a lower-end GPU, I recommend my optimised settings for Portal RTX, which basically amounts to turning down the amount of possible light bounces to save on performance and skimping a bit in other areas. Even with that, an RTX 4060 was really struggling to run the game well. With frame generation on and DLSS set to 1080p balanced with the transformer model, 80fps to 90fps was the best I could achieve in the general combat zones, with the heaviest stages dipping into the 70s - and even into the 60s with frame generation. The mod is still work-in-progress, but even now, Painkiller RTX is still a lot of fun and it can look stunning if your hardware is up to it. But even if you can't run it, I do hope this piece and its accompanying video pique your interest in checking out Painkiller in some form. Even without the path-traced upgrade, this is a classic first-person shooter that's often overlooked and more than holds its own against some of the period's better known games.

The tower takes shape as two sets of overlapping cylinders, clad with prefabricated panels intended to evoke clouds. PROJECT The Butterfly + First Baptist Church Complex ARCHITECT Revery Architecture PHOTOS Ema Peter When you fly into Vancouver, the most prominent structure in the city’s forest of glass skyscrapers is now a 57-storey edifice known as the Butterfly. Designed by Revery Architecture, the luxury residential tower is the latest in a string of high-rises that pop out of the city’s backdrop of generic window-wall façades.  The Butterfly’s striking form evolved over many years, beginning with studies dating back to 2012. Revery principal Venelin Kokalov imagined several options, most of them suggesting a distinct pair of architectural forms in dialogue. Renderings and models of the early concepts relay a wealth of imagination that is sorely missing from much of the city’s contemporary architecture, as land economics, zoning issues, and the profit motive often compel a default into generic glass-and-steel towers. The earliest concepts look starkly different—some evoke the Ginger and Fred building in Prague (Frank Gehry with Vlado Milunić, 1996); others the Absolute Towers in Mississauga (MAD with Burka Varacalli Architects, 2009). But one consistent theme runs through the design evolution: a sense of two Rilkean solitudes, touching.  On each floor, semi-private sky gardens offer an outdoor place for residents to socialize. Client feedback, engineering studies, and simple pragmatics led to the final form: two sets of overlapping cylinders linked by a common breezeway and flanked by a rental apartment on one side and a restored church doubling as a community centre on the other. The contours of the floorplan are visually organic: evocative of human cells dividing. The roundness of the main massing is complemented by curvilinear balustrades that smoothly transform into the outer walls of each unit. It’s an eye-catching counterpoint to the orthogonality of the city’s built landscape. The two adjacent buildings—built, restored, and expanded as part of a density bonus arrangement with the city—help integrate this gargantuan structure with the lower-rise neighbourhood around it.  The Butterfly is a high-end, high-priced residential tower—one of the few typologies in which clients and communities are now willing to invest big money and resources in creative, visually astonishing architecture. That leads to a fundamental question: what is the public purpose of a luxury condo tower?  A public galleria joins the renovated First Baptist Church to the new building. Serving as a welcoming atrium, it allows for community access to the expanded church, including its daycare, full gymnasium, multi-purpose rooms, overnight emergency shelter, and community dining hall equipped with a commercial kitchen. Whatever one feels about the widening divide between the haves and have-nots in our big cities, this building—like its ilk—does serve several important public purposes. The most direct and quantifiable benefits are the two flanking buildings, also designed by Revery and part of the larger project. The seven-storey rental apartment provides a modest contribution to the city’s dearth of mid-priced housing. The superbly restored and seismically upgraded First Baptist Church has expanded into the area between the new tower and original church, and now offers the public a wider array of programming including a gymnasium, childcare facility, and areas for emergency shelter and counselling services for individuals in need.  The church’s Pinder Hall has been reimagined as a venue for church and community events including concerts, weddings, and cultural programming. The Butterfly’s character is largely defined by undulating precast concrete panels that wrap around the building. The architects describe the swooping lines as being inspired by clouds, but for this writer, the Butterfly evokes a 57-layer frosted cake towering above the city’s boxy skyline. Kokalov winces when he hears that impression, but it’s meant as a sincere compliment. Clouds are not universally welcome, but who doesn’t like cake?  Kokalov argues that its experiential quality is the building’s greatest distinction—most notably, the incorporation of an “outdoors”—not a balcony or deck, but an actual outdoor pathway—at all residential levels. For years the lead form-maker at Bing Thom Architects, Kokalov was responsible for much of the curvilinearity in the firm’s later works, including the 2019 Xiqu Centre opera house in Hong Kong. It’s easy to assume that his forte and focus would be pure aesthetic delight, but he avers that every sinuous curve has a practical rationale.  The breezeways provide residents with outdoor entries to their units—an unusual attribute for high-rise towers—and contribute to natural cooling, ventilation, and daylight in the suites. Defying the local tower-on-podium formula, the building’s façade falls almost straight to the ground. At street level, the building is indented with huge parabolic concavities. It’s an abrupt way to meet the street, but the fall is visually “broken” by a publicly accessible courtyard.   The tower’s layered, undulating volume is echoed in a soaring residential lobby, which includes developer Westbank’s signature—a bespoke Fazioli grand piano designed by the building’s architect. After passing through this courtyard, you enter the building via the usual indoor luxe foyer—complete with developer Westbank’s signature, an over-the-top hand-built grand piano designed by the architect. In this case, the piano’s baroquely sculpted legs are right in keeping with the architecture. But after taking the elevator up to the designated floor, you step out into what is technically “outdoors” and walk to your front door in a brief but bracing open-air transition.  The main entrance of every unit is accessed via a breezeway that runs from one side of the building to another. Unglazed and open to the outside, each breezeway is marked at one end with what the architects call (a little ambitiously) a “sky garden,” in most cases consisting of a sapling that will grow into a leafy tree in due course, God and strata maintenance willing. This incorporation of nature and fresh air transforms the condominium units into something akin to townhouses, albeit stacked exceptionally high.  The suites feature a custom counter with a sculptural folded form. Inside each unit, the space can be expanded and contracted and reconfigured visually—not literally—by the fact that the interior wall of the secondary bedroom is completely transparent, floor to ceiling. It’s unusual, and slightly unnerving, but undeniably exciting for any occupants who wish to maximize their views to the mountains and sea. The curved glass wall transforms the room into a private enclave by means of a curtain, futuristically activated by remote control. The visual delight of swooping curves is only tempered when it’s wholly impractical—the offender here being a massive built-in counter that serves to both anchor and divide the living-kitchen areas. It reads as a long, pliable slab that is “folded” into the middle in such a way that the counter itself transforms into its own horseshoe-shaped base, creating a narrow crevice in the middle of the countertop. I marvel at its beauty and uniqueness; I weep for whoever is assigned to clean out the crumbs and other culinary flotsam that will fall into that crevice.  A structure made of high-performance modular precast concrete structural ribs arcs over a swimming pool that bridges between the building’s main amenity space and the podium roof. The building’s high-priced architecture may well bring more to the table than density-bonus amenities. On a broader scale, these luxe dwellings may be just what is needed to help lure the affluent from their mansions. As wealthy residents and investors continue to seek out land-hogging detached homes, the Butterfly offers an alternate concept that maintains the psychological benefit of a dedicated outside entrance and an outrageously flexible interior space. Further over-the-top amenities add to the appeal. Prominent among these is a supremely gorgeous residents-only swimming pool, housed within ribs of concrete columns that curve and dovetail into beams.   The ultimate public purpose for the architecturally spectacular condo tower: its role as public art in the city. The units in any of these buildings are the private side of architecture’s Janus face, but its presence in the skyline and on the street is highly public. By contributing a newly striking visual ballast, the Butterfly has served its purpose as one of the age-old Seven Arts: defining a location, a community, and an era. Adele Weder is a contributing editor to Canadian Architect. Screenshot CLIENT Westbank Corporation, First Baptist Church | ARCHITECT TEAM Venelin Kokalov (MRAIC), Bing Thom (FRAIC, deceased 2016), Amirali Javidan, Nicole Hu, Shinobu Homma MRAIC, Bibi Fehr, Culum Osborne, Dustin Yee, Cody Loeffen, Kailey O’Farrell, Mark Melnichuk, Andrea Flynn, Jennifer Zhang, Daniel Gasser, Zhuoli Yang, Lisa Potopsingh | STRUCTURAL Glotman Simpson | MECHANICAL Introba | ELECTRICAL Nemetz & Associates, Inc. | LANDSCAPE SWA Group (Design) w/ Cornelia Oberlander & G|ALA – Gauthier & Associates Landscape Architecture, Inc. (Landscape Architect of Record) | INTERIORS Revery Architecture | CONTRACTOR Icon West Construction (new construction); The Haebler Group (heritage) | LIGHTING ARUP (Design) & Nemetz (Engineer of Record) | SUSTAINABILITY & ENERGY MODELlING Introba | BUILDING ENVELOPE RDH Building Science, Inc. | HERITAGE CONSERVATION Donald Luxton & Associates, Inc.| ACOUSTICS BKL Consultants Ltd. | TRAFFIC Bunt & Associates, Inc. | POOL Rockingham Pool Consulting, Inc. | FOUNTAIN Vincent Helton & Associates | WIND Gradient Wind Engineering, Inc. | WASTE CONSULTANT Target Zero Waste Consulting, Inc. | AREA 56,206 M2 | BUDGET Withheld | COMPLETION Spring 2025 ENERGY USE INTENSITY (PROJECTED) 106 kWh/m2/year | WATER USE INTENSITY (PROJECTED) 0.72 m3/m2/year As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine The post The Butterfly takes flight: The Butterfly, Vancouver, BC appeared first on Canadian Architect.