‘100 colors no.53,’ the latest installment in Emmanuelle Moureaux’s ongoing ‘100 colors path’ series, has opened at Takanawa Gateway City in Tokyo. Composed of 2,400 vertical lines, each rendered in one of 100 precisely selected colors, the work is both a spatial structure and a temporal map, charting a century’s worth of imagined futures.

The piece is installed in the newly developed Gateway Park by East Japan Railway Company, and marks the launch of Takanawa Gateway City, an urban complex built around a central transport hub in Minato Ward. As the first public installation unveiled with the complex’s debut, ‘100 colors path’ sets the tone for a neighborhood defined by openness and movement. ‘100 colors no. 53’ will be open to the public until July 21st, 2025.

images © Daisuke Shima

emmanuelle moureaux’s map of Color and Time

While Emmanuelle Moureaux’s ‘100 colors no.53,’ reads as a shifting gradient from across the Tokyo plaza, its internal logic is revealed up close as an accumulation of numbers layered within a calibrated spectrum. This way, the Tokyo-based French architect‘s characteristic use of color is an architectural material rather than surface treatment. Each line is inscribed with a year, beginning in 2025 and continuing sequentially through 2124.

The structural rhythm of the work is defined by uniform spacing and repetition. Lines are suspended vertically to create a passage that is simultaneously transparent and immersive. The numbers printed on the lines come in and out of view as visitors move through the piece, a kinetic effect heightened by the optical interference patterns of overlapping colors.

Emmanuelle Moureaux installs ‘100 colors path’ in Tokyo’s Takanawa Gateway City

a pathway carved through immersive color

At the heart of Tokyo’s ‘100 colors path’ installation is a central corridor which cuts through the colored grid. Emmanuelle Moureaux carves this passage to invite entry, allowing visitors to become momentarily absorbed in the spectrum of time. As people walk through the corridor, the visual rhythm shifts with their movement. It is a simple gesture, but one that transforms the installation from an object to inhabit into an environment to experience.

Inside, the work offers a tactile proximity to each color and year. The vertical density flattens at certain angles and deepens at others, underscoring the relationship between time and space in architectural perception. The effect is neither theatrical nor didactic — it is precise, open-ended, and responsive to movement.

the installation consists of 2,400 vertical lines arranged in 100 precisely selected colors

Beyond the park installation, the concept of ‘100 colors path’ has been extended throughout the station district. Moureaux designed related graphics for both north and south ticket gates of Takanawa Gateway Station, as well as the surrounding street flags. A complementary augmented reality experience titled 100 colors city allows visitors to engage with the installation digitally, activating the concept through smartphone interaction.

During the exhibition period, a public workshop invited participants to search for color in their everyday surroundings — an approach that reinforces the project’s central theme of color as a framework for observation and time. This alignment between physical installation and public programming strengthens the architectural relevance of the work in its urban setting.

a central corridor invites visitors to walk through the immersive color field

Moureaux’s 100 colors path continues her exploration of how color can be used to shape physical space and collective imagination. The numbering of each line, paired with a clear chronological arc, gives structure to what could otherwise be a purely aesthetic field. This linking of color and time brings a conceptual framework that is visually inviting, but also conceptually complex.

The installation references both the future and the present. The decision to begin during Takanawa Gateway City’s inaugural year of 2025 grounds the piece in its immediate context. Meanwhile, the choice to extend one hundred years forward transforms the project into a durational meditation on memory and urban growth.

each line is engraved with a year from 2025 to 2124, creating a spatial timeline of 100 years

the numbers appear and disappear as viewers move for a dynamic, perspective-led experience

an AR extension called ‘100 colors city’ invites digital interaction via smartphones

the installation uses color as an architectural material to organize time and space

project info:

name: 100 colors no.53 ‘100 colors path’

architect: Emmanuelle Moureaux | @emmanuellemoureaux

location: Gateway Park, Takanawa Gateway City, Tokyo, Japan

on view: March 27th — July 21st, 2025

photography: © Daisuke Shima | @daisuke_shima_photography

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Serpentine and the LEGO Group unveil the Play Pavilion designed by Sir Peter Cook in London’s Kensington Gardens. The public art project coincides with World Play Day on June 11th, 2025, and rightfully so with the playful and vibrant flair of the pavilion. It is on view from June 11th to August 10th, 2025. The only orange on the horizon, the Play Pavilion by Sir Peter Cook partially comes to life with the use of LEGO bricks. Outside, these colorful blocks create protruding, tactile installations resembling topography. A kaleidoscopic roof shaped like a small bowl cocoons the architecture, colored in orange to match the similar shade of the base. Around the pavilion, the walls have slopes and peaks, mimicking the waves crashing onto the shore while creating different openings and exits. 

Anyone can run their hands along them and feel the LEGO-brick installations on the walls before they step inside the Play Pavilion. Here, sunlight passes through the openings because Sir Peter Cook didn’t join the roofing to the base. Air and light, then, flow in and out, and people can see the outside from inside. The use of LEGO bricks continues inside. The central pillar is reminiscent of a towering robot, a quiet sentry that surveys the space to check if everyone’s enjoying their time. To exit the structure, visitors can either walk towards one of the openings or use the yellow slide on the other side. On one of the walls, there’s a brick-built board and a treasure of LEGO blocks just below it, so visitors can pick up pieces, pin them onto the interactive structure, and shape them into how they want them to be. It’s the essence of the LEGO-built Play Pavilion, an intentional design by Sir Peter Cook.

The Play Pavilion, designed by Peter Cook (Peter Cook Studio Crablab), in collaboration with Serpentine and the LEGO Group © Peter Cook (Peter Cook Studio Crablab) | images courtesy of Serpentine; photos by Andy Stagg, unless stated otherwise

live activations throughout the summer of 2025

Sir Peter Cook describes the Play Pavilion with LEGO brick designs as a piece of theater, but the structure can recall the form of an observatory, too. From afar, the geometric roof already announces the presence of the orange playground. As visitors walk up closer to it, they then see the partly obscured body that completes it. In a location full of greenery, the Play Pavilion breathes in a refreshed life, luring in the visitors to come closer and find out more within. In the words of the architect, ‘a child might pop out on a slide, another may crawl through a hole on the ground, mystifying conventional entrance routes. Another mouth-shaped opening reveals an orator, performer, or singer entertaining eavesdroppers beyond.’

The LEGO-built Play Pavilion by Sir Peter Cook continues the series of programs presented by Serpentine. In 2022, Serpentine, the London Lions Basketball Club, and artist Alvaro Barrington partnered with CONSUL, Tower Hamlets Council, and Weavers Adventure Playground in Bethnal Green to create a basketball court. Today, it’s an orange pavilion that doubles as public art, with walls that present a series of tactile installations. For the gallery, these new initiatives bring together artists, designers, architects, and creatives to champion the spirit of play and community. The LEGO-built Play Pavilion by Sir Peter Cook is a platform for live activations throughout the summer of 2025.

view of the slide at the pavilion

the roof has a geometric design and a similar shade of the base

the walls present a series of tactile installations

inside, there’s a board where visitors can pin the LEGO bricks

portrait of Sir Peter Cook | photo by Gary Summers

Sir Peter Cook designs the pavilion commission for Serpentine and the LEGO Group | photo by Gary Summers

project info:

name: Play Pavilion

architect: Sir Peter Cook | @sirpetercook

team: Pablo Wheldon, Cong Ding

program: Serpentine Galleries | @serpentineuk

collaborator: LEGO Group | @lego

on view: June 11th to August 10th, 2025

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MVRDV’s Winy Maas sits down with designboom to discuss the making of the kinetic Sombra Pavilion and the 3D printed Biotopia installation at the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025. Before the exhibition’s public opening on May 9th 2025, the Dutch architect, and the M of MVRDV together with Jacob van Rijs and Nathalie de Vries, explained the making and thinking behind the SOMBRA pavilion and the Biotopia installation. ‘It’s nice that the pavilion is not solar. In this case, it’s only the air pressure. What we use is our knowledge of the sun. We work a lot on shadow and light, and create and research complex solar programs. For Biotopia, I imagine a fully recyclable, biological world that combines all the properties we need: energy, oxygen, animals, shelter, light, flexibility, and changeability,’ the architect tells designboom during the interview.

One project uses physics to create shade without electricity, while the other imagines a future where buildings grow like living organisms. The SOMBRA pavilion – designed by a team led by MVRDV founding partner Jacob van Rijs – is at the European Cultural Centre’s Giardini Marinaressa, part of the Time Space Existence show. The Biotopia installation is at the Arsenale, part of the main exhibition curated by Carlo Ratti. Both of them are on view until November 2025. For the pavilion, built in collaboration with with Metadecor, Airshade, and Alumet, the structure turns reused beams into large arches, supported by metal ribs. This frame holds triangular panels fitted with perforated metal screens. The pavilion operates without electricity or motors. It relies on physics: when direct sunlight heats small air canisters located within the structure’s ribs, the air pressure inside increases. This pressure inflates small airbags attached to the panels. As an airbag inflates, it contracts, pulling its corresponding panel closed to create shade. When the sun moves and the canisters cool, the pressure decreases, and the panels reopen.

portrait of Winy Maas | image © designboom

Progress to building a biotopic world

Heading to the Arsenale of the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025, Winy Maas and his think tank The Why Factory collaborate with visual artist Federico Díaz to sculpt and present BIOTOPIA. The installation is in two parts. First, the 3D printed sculpture made of polymer. The second is an accompanying film documenting the Dutch architect’s research and how he imagines biotopia will be, which brims with self-sustaining systems. The kind of future here makes biology the foundation for all design. It reimagines cities as forests and architecture as something that grows like a tree. The core concept is a global Sponge, or a type of dynamic biomatter architecture. This Sponge would perform functions like cooling the air, filtering water, and generating energy, all while adapting like a living thing.

The sculptural installation with Federico Díaz, called Propagative Structures, gives physical form to the idea of living matter, of architecture built from living organisms. The work emerges from research into biomimicry, or a field of design that takes inspiration from natural systems. The installation’s forms draw on the structure of mangrove root networks, a suggestion of a future where habitats are not built but cultivated like plants. In our interview with the architect, Winy Maas discusses the future of urbanism, our progress to a biotopic world, the use of computational designs and algorithms in architecture, and what lies ahead for MVRDV, to name a few.

all images courtesy of MVRDV | photos by Federico Vespignani, unless stated otherwise

Interview with Winy MaAs at Venice Architecture Biennale 2025

Designboom (DB): It’s wonderful to see you here in Venice, Winy. We saw the Sombra Pavilion in the garden on our way here. We also read that it’s kinetic?

Winy Maas (WM): It’s a kinetic structure, yes. It doesn’t need energy. Air pressure is generated by a heat difference within the structure itself. That helps to close or open panels, cooling the building at certain corners or not. That, of course, depends on the sun. It’s good to see it in the afternoon too because they placed it next to a tree, so it stands out. The film will be made in the coming months, so we can see the functioning of this air-driven structure. It’s nice that it’s not solar. In this case, it’s only the air pressure. 

What we use is our knowledge of the sun. We work a lot on shadow and light. We create and research complex solar programs. After that, we can start working on the solar panel industry. Sun Rock, for example, which is our project in Taipei for the Taipower Electricity company, is a building covered with solar panels. It’s an example of how we use the sun. It’s a nice project too, and I love it. 

the project uses physics to create shade without electricity

DB: So, the Sombra Pavilion is one project of MVRDV here at the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025. In the Arsenale, you have another titled Biotopia under The Why Factory, which is the think tank and research institute that you lead. Here, it comes in two parts. The first a 3D printed model with the visual artist Federico Diaz that explores the idea of living matter in continuous transformation. The other is a movie that documents and visualizes this future. First off, how do you see a biotopic world?

WM: Biotopia is a dream. Imagine a fully recyclable, biological world that combines all the properties we need: energy, oxygen, animals, shelter, light, flexibility, and changeability. There’s a huge list of properties we demand from our materials and surroundings. Biotopia philosophizes and speculates on the idea that if we create a material or combination of materials that can facilitate these needs precisely when desired by humans, nature, or animals, that will lead to a city you can’t yet imagine. I’m pursuing a few things with my Utopia concept. 

First, I’m trying to paint a sketch. The seven-minute accompanying film visitors see needs improvement, so it will progress over time, to the next step. Second, I’m creating a timeline sequence of materials, an interesting research project I’ll publish in a book. This timeline will detail all the properties we need, measured in time per second, for an average population density. That’s a crucial part. We calculate what we can do with current materials and what’s possible if certain material innovations occur. 

the pavilion is at the European Cultural Centre’s Giardini Marinaressa | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

WM (continued): There are three epochs in these steps, with the current epoch of innovation per technology, like improved 3D printing. The entire MVRDV group is part of this research. A lot is already happening; we have old materials and new materials emerging. We see this more and more, with layers of wood combined with glue, like glulam and CLT. We also have more types of sandwich constructions. Materials are becoming collaborative.  But what if this collaboration becomes more intense?

Materials could help provide light, others energy, and perhaps they could even move. That’s what this timeline aims to explore, too: what kind of collaborations are needed. We’ll depict these in the final timeline, the Blend, where everything is so interactive and active. It could lead to a completely different type of architecture or urbanism. Finally, we’re developing prototypes. These are diverse. One is 3D printing, aiming to move beyond current prefabrication methods. While prefab is fine, 3D printing offers more flexibility.

the structure turns reused beams into large arches, supported by metal ribs | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

DB: We were told that the sculptural installation at the Arsenale was supposed to be made of living organisms instead of 3D printed from polymer. 

WM: Yes, and I’m still completely open to it, but that’ll most likely be after the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025. There’s this dream of using 3D printing that involves two components, or three elements, that are not currently part of 3D printing. The first is what we call the material bank. Carlo Ratti adopted this idea, which involved a machine design where you have various materials. You feed these materials into the 3D printer, which could have multiple nozzles – one for concrete, one for stone, one for glass, one for steel, one for minerals, and one for wood. 

This allows you to select the desired material as you print, changing nozzles along the printing line. This is part of the design. The second component is the printer itself, which is a mixed printer and an ‘un-printer.’ This allows materials to be changed and adapted. To achieve this, an analyzer scans the surface, determines its composition, and then initiates a destruction operation. This process varies depending on the material. For example, 100% glass is easy to break and can be burned in two steps. 

when direct sunlight heats small air canisters, the air pressure inside increases | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

WM (continued): You remove the material, burn it, and the burner sends it to the material bank, from which it can be returned to the printer. This applies to all types of materials. So, we have the mixer, the printer, the ‘un-printer,’ and the material bank. The final component is the monitor, where you design and input data. This input isn’t just for design; it’s also a control mechanism. During printing, you need to monitor the process to prevent cracking. 

This can involve adding more water because the printing material is like a pudding that needs to be as fluid as possible for adhesion. Adding more water helps with the drying period, and you can also use other polymers. I can provide the diagram, but I should patent it first. This is the dream, so far. There’ll also be these robots that would be there to help construct these. I also have a sequence of mycelium tests that I want to do with the school in Jakarta.

the frame holds triangular panels fitted with perforated metal screens | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

DB: That was our follow-up question: the use of biomaterials. It seems that you’ve already used them in your recent projects. In line with this, you’ve also had a talk discussing computational design and algorithms in architecture and design. In what ways have you and MVRDV adopted them into your workflow?

WM: We have our specialties as an office and research group. I cannot do everything, so we need to collaborate extensively. I’m proficient in scripting; our office was one of the first to adopt it, and now our department excels in it. Our team is well-trained in computation and computer science, which I believe is a significant asset. We are skilled in space design, like any architect, and we are also strong in visualization.

DB: What do you think is our progress towards a biotopic world?

WM: There’s a wide range of research I’m trying to gather and collect. We have the example of 3D printing and mycelium. I’m also looking into the lignification of lignin from trees to accelerate this process in the farming industry. This would make the material more fluid, more like willow. I’m also incredibly interested in the electrical changeability of materials, like electrical rubber, for instance. In short, it’s a long process, but the beauty of it is fantastic.

view of the Biotopia installation at the Arsenale | all exhibition photos by Celestia Studio

DB: Are there other materials you want to work or experiment with? What’s next for you?

WM: I like the lignin and the washing-stone technology. This is a new technique we’re developing with Eindhoven. You add a layer of stone, which washes away, and then it assembles into soil. So, it’s essentially accelerating soil creation through erosion and its distribution. This helps plants grow, especially in shadowy areas. We’ve already applied this concept in Dubai for a new pavilion. 

Let’s go back to what you said before we started the interview. We’re sitting in a park, and you asked if I have a relationship with nature. My background already explains it, and I think our architecture is involved in that, meaning nature. I think we make it possible to reconnect people with nature. I like your question about what’s next because that’s the topic of the book we’re making. My lectures are always about what’s next, and they include slides. There are many subjects. I can dream about utopia as a kind of end result, if that’s possible. 

Then, I also have to study mobility. I need to consider when I move and what makes sense, so we’re doing a new study on velocity with different industries. We’re checking how the city would look with a certain kind of mobility: if I walk only, or if I have horses, or if I have three types of mobility. I also want to add properties to drones. It’s not about sending packages, which we can already do. We have a drone skycar in Shenzhen, and surveying is another use. But you can also construct. So I ask my collaborators and clients, ‘What can I do if I want to build a house in the sky?’ Just as a hypothesis. We’ll see.

the installation comes with an accompanying film documenting the building of Biotopia

the first part of the installation is the 3D printed sculpture made of polymer

Winy Maas and his think tank The Why Factory collaborate with visual artist Federico Díaz for the sculpture

the installations are on view in Venice until November 2025

project info:

architect: Winy Maas

firm: MVRDV | @mvrdv

Biotopia

lead architect: Winy Maas

think tank: The Why Factory

artist: Federico Díaz | @federico_diaz_hands

location: Arsenale

event: Venice Architecture Biennale 2025

dates: May 10th to November 23rd, 2025

photography: Celestia Studio, The Why Factory | @celestiastudio

SOMBRA Pavilion

lead architect: Jacob van Rijs

collaboration: Metadecor, Airshade Technologies, MVRDV, Alumet, Van Rossum Raadgevend Ingenieurs, Arup, Kersten Europe, the AMOLF Institute | @metadecor, @airshadetechnologies, @mvrdv, @alumet_nl, @vanrossumbv, @arupgroup 

exhibition: Time Space Existence

location: Giardini Marinaressa

address: Riva dei Sette Martiri, 30122 Venice, Italy

photography: Federico Vespignani, Jaap Heemskerk | @federico_vespignani

The post MVRDV’s winy maas on kinetic sombra pavilion and biotopia installation at venice biennale appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

Within the Forest of Tranquility at Expo 2025 Osaka, SANAA’s Better Co-being Pavilion appears as a delicate field of white columns and overlapping roof plates that hover just above the landscape. Designed by the Japanese Pritzker Prize–winning duo Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa, the pavilion is composed of slender steel supports topped by a constellation of thin, translucent canopies, some circular, others irregular, recalling clouds or tree branches.

The columns are positioned in a seemingly organic arrangement, creating soft porous pathways, gathering points, and transitional moments within the wooded clearing. This unenclosed architecture, defined by natural rhythms, porosity, and light, echoes its organic context. New photographs by William Mulvihill document its early stages of assembly, capturing how SANAA’s architectural language of lightness and ambiguity is resolved through precise material detailing and structural calibration.

all images by William Mulvihill unless stated otherwise

sanaa’s expo osaka pavilion appears as a field of white canopies

Curated by art critic and curator Yuko Hasegawa, and produced by Hiroaki Miyata, a professor and lead researcher for the thematic project Resonance of Lives, the pavilion is one of several projects at Expo 2025 Osaka exploring how architecture can facilitate new forms of coexistence. Miyata’s framework centers around the idea that we are entering a global turning point, spanning economics, health, education, human rights, and environmental practice. SANAA conceives this to act like a social interface in this context, a place where people can gather, interact, and imagine alternative models for living together.

This ethos is embedded in the physical language of the project. Better Co-being embraces the idea of ambiguity and openness. The architects have selected materials that are almost diagrammatic in their simplicity — from lightweight steel columns to translucent roof panels — somewhat recalling data networks or cellular structures. Without any harsh boundaries, the pavilion then allows the landscape to almost entirely flow through it. Light filters down through the layered roof elements in constantly shifting patterns, changing with the weather and time of day. Photographed during construction, William Mulvihill’s photo series emphasizes this transitional quality, framing the pavilion from different perspectives as it appears mid-formation with geometries only partly resolved.

SANAA’s Better Co-being Pavilion

on view at Expo 2025 Osaka’s Forest of Tranquility

appearing as a delicate field of white columns and overlapping roof plates that hover just above the landscape

William Mulvihill captures the structure under construction

the organic arrangement creates soft porous pathways, gathering points, and transitional moments

the series captures how SANAA’s language of lightness is resolved through precise material detailing

without any harsh boundaries, the pavilion then allows the landscape to almost entirely flow through it

image © designboom

image © designboom

project info: 

name: Better Co-being

architect: SANAA | @sanaa_jimusho

photographer: William Mulvihill | @williamulvihill

location: Osaka, Japan

event: Expo 2025 Osaka | @expo2025japan

dates: April 13th — October 13th, 2025

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Opening to the public on June 6th and on view through October 26th, the 2025 Serpentine Pavilion by Marina Tabassum Architects is now complete in London’s Kensington Gardens. Marking the 25th anniversary of the Serpentine’s architectural program, the pavilion, titled A Capsule in Time, explores themes of impermanence, tactility, and light through a modular, timber-built structure designed to move, adapt, and ultimately disappear. Ahead of the opening, Marina Tabassum discusses with designboom the ideas that shaped this year’s design.‘The pavilion is called A Capsule in Time for many reasons,’ Tabassum tells us during our interview. ‘One is that I find the connection between architecture and time quite intriguing (…) pavilions have a temporality, which is not about time but about a moment—to embrace and enjoy it.’

Aligned with Serpentine South’s historic bell tower, the elongated north-south structure is composed of four translucent capsules that dapple the space with shifting light. Tabassum draws inspiration from the hydrologic landscapes of Bangladesh, where ‘land constantly moves—it’s a situation where sand beds form, water takes the land away, and then it recreates it.’ This ephemerality is echoed in the building’s material choices. The architect works entirely in wood for the first time, not only for its dry-construction potential and future reuse, but also for its local availability. ‘We haven’t worked entirely with wood before because wood is not a material in Bangladesh as such… but here, it made sense,’ she explains.

Serpentine Pavilion 2025 A Capsule in Time, designed by Marina Tabassum, Marina Tabassum Architects (MTA). exterior view. © Marina Tabassum Architects (MTA) | image by Iwan Baan, courtesy of Serpentine

inside ‘a capsule in time’, knowledge can be shared freely

A kinetic capsule embedded within the Serpentine Pavilion structure allows parts of the pavilion to shift and expand for public programming. ‘It’s a movable part of the structure that can shift and connect with another section to create a larger, covered space. That’s where the kinetic element comes in.’ Marina Tabassum notes. At the heart of the pavilion stands a ginkgo tree—a resilient species dating back to the Jurassic Period. ‘That tree gives life to the whole pavilion,’ the architect shares with designboom. ‘Even though it’s within a park and surrounded by nature, having a tree inside the pavilion really changes the atmosphere.’

Tabassum also sees the pavilion as a place of quiet resistance, an antidote to rising global censorship. Bookshelves built into the capsules host a curated selection of texts in Bengali literature, poetry, ecology, and identity. ‘Some of them are by writers whose works have been banned in Bangladesh,’ she reveals during our discussion. ‘In a time when many books are being banned and education is being questioned (…) the very notion of knowledge feels under threat. So it felt important to bring that idea of books and knowledge into the pavilion—a space where knowledge can be shared freely.’ Continue reading to explore our full conversation with Marina Tabassum, this year’s Serpentine Pavilion architect.

marking the 25th anniversary of the Serpentine’s architectural program | image by Iwan Baan, courtesy of Serpentine

interview with Marina Tabassum 

designboom (DB): The Pavilion is called A Capsule in Time. What does that mean to you? What kind of histories, moments, or personal elements were you hoping to capture in this structure?

Marina Tabassum (MT):  The pavilion is called A Capsule in Time for many reasons. One is that I find the connection between architecture and time quite intriguing. We started architecture as a discipline with the notion that it would last forever. It’s almost like a continuity—when you’re not there, your architecture remains. So it continues through time. Timelessness has also been a way of looking into architecture—how you can make your buildings timeless, which is about defying time. At the same time, pavilions have a temporality, which is not about time but about a moment—to embrace and enjoy it. In the case of the Serpentine, it’s there for a five-month period—nice summer days, a beautiful sunny day like today—and then it’s gone. But it has a presence in the virtual realm, which is our new reality.

Where I come from, in Bangladesh, we have this notion of land as temporal. Land constantly moves—it’s a hydrologic situation where sand beds form, water takes the land away, and then it recreates it. So this idea of land being eroded and re-emerging also carries temporality. Architecture is associated with that, because people keep moving their houses from one place to another. I also bring in my way of practice. I come from a place defined by temporality, but I’ve always been very interested in light. A nice summer day in London can be really beautiful. That light can be celebrated if we create a space that lets it through. Light is an important element in this design. It also connects to pavilion structures in Bangladesh—ones we create for weddings or religious occasions, called shamiyanas. These shamiyana structures are made of cloth and bring in beautiful light. Bringing that sense, that atmosphere, into this space was also very important to me.

exploring themes of impermanence, tactility, and light | image by Iwan Baan, courtesy of Serpentine

DB: The translucent facade creates a play of light and shadow. What was the process behind achieving that dappled effect? Was it intentional from the start, or something that evolved along the way?

MT: The decision to bring in this very sort of translucent light into the space was intentional. That was one of the design intents. From the very beginning, that’s what we wanted for that space. But achieving that effect was a process. Initially, we were thinking of using jute and laminated jute; we looked into it and did some research.

But jute is a material that is not fire-rated, so it would not be allowed in the pavilion.

Then we had to look for something we could source locally here in London. So we settled for polycarbonate sheet with a translucent film on it. That actually helped us bring in the quality of light that we wanted. The building is maybe initiated in the Serpentine in Kensington Gardens, but it has an afterlife. That means there will be a continuity of this building in another location. So it will be used again—it won’t go into a landfill. That’s why we opted for a material of that nature.

Tabassum draws inspiration from the landscapes of Bangladesh | image by Iwan Baan, courtesy of Serpentine

DB: And what about working with wood for the first time entirely? What drew you to this material for the pavilion and how did it shape your approach?

MT: We haven’t worked entirely with wood before because wood is not a material in Bangladesh as such. The reason we used this material is because it’s something we could source locally here. And that’s one of our practice’s ethos—we like to source materials locally, where there’s also local knowledge of building. So using wood for the structure made more sense.

It’s also a dry construction. As you can imagine, it’s only here for a short period of time. That was another reason we chose a wooden structure, it can be dismantled and taken to a different location later on.

Serpentine 2025 Pavilion A Capsule in Time, designed by Marina Tabassum, Marina Tabassum Architects (MTA), design render, interior view | rendering © Marina Tabassum Architects (MTA), courtesy Serpentine

DB: The pavilion also features a kinetic element that moves and transforms the space. What inspired that idea? Were there any technical or design challenges in making it work?

MT: Not really. No, not in that sense. There was a budget challenge, but that’s always the case—nothing unusual. The main idea was to create a capsule-like form—sort of a half capsule—but we wanted it to feel more connected to the natural surroundings of the park. That’s why you see these openings or cuts in the structure: they’re designed to bring in elements of nature and create a balance between inside and outside.

The Serpentine Pavilion also serves a practical purpose. It hosts various events throughout the summer, so it was important to design a space that could accommodate around 200 people—even in rainy weather. That’s where the kinetic element comes in. It’s a movable part of the structure that can shift and connect with another section to create a larger, covered space. This allows the pavilion to expand when needed and provide shelter for bigger gatherings. So the kinetic feature had a functional reason behind it, but it also became an exciting design element—because no one had done something like that before in the Serpentine Pavilion. It adds a new and interesting layer to the experience.

the architect works entirely in wood for the first time | rendering © Marina Tabassum Architects (MTA), courtesy Serpentine

DB: You’ve built the pavilion around a ginkgo tree, which feels like a really meaningful choice. What led you to center the tree in the design, and how does that reflect your approach to climate-responsive architecture?

MT: Well, you know, the tree—I think that tree gives life to the whole pavilion. Otherwise, it’s a very archaic structural form. But the moment we brought in the tree, it transformed the space. Even though it’s within a park and surrounded by nature, having a tree inside the pavilion really changes the atmosphere. It brings life, and it gives the space a more intimate scale. That became one of the essential elements of the entire design. We really wanted to incorporate nature—not just to serve people, but to create a space that also celebrates nature. We were thoughtful about what kind of tree it should be. The idea was that once the pavilion is dismantled, the tree would be replanted somewhere in the park so it can continue to live.

We needed a tree that was strong and rugged, something that could withstand being transported and replanted. At the same time, it needed to be compatible with the plant community already in the park. So we looked for something that could meet all of those needs—but also something beautiful and light, that would sit harmoniously inside the pavilion. That’s how we chose the ginkgo tree. It has a beautiful, fan-shaped leaf—very sculptural, which I really loved. And towards the end of the season, in September or October, the leaves turn this beautiful yellow. So we’ll hopefully see that transformation as the pavilion nears its end. It’s poetic in a way—sustainability and poetry coming together in one gesture.

the structure allows parts of the pavilion to shift and expand | rendering © Marina Tabassum Architects (MTA), courtesy Serpentine

DB: In times of rising censorship, you’ve spoken about knowledge-sharing. How does the pavilion become a tool for resistance, if at all?

MT: Well, knowledge sharing is an important part of our practice—especially wherever we build. In the houses we’re building now, we try to work closely with the community. We share building knowledge with people so they’re able to eventually build on their own. That’s a core part of our approach. And the way we wanted to bring that idea of knowledge sharing into the pavilion was by introducing a small library alongside the café. We’re bringing in a range of books—different kinds of books.

Some of them are by writers whose works have been banned in Bangladesh. So you’ll see some of those there too. The idea is that, in a time when many books are being banned and education is being questioned or restructured in different parts of the world, the very notion of knowledge feels under threat. So it felt important to bring that idea of books and knowledge into the pavilion—a space where knowledge can be shared freely. We also want it to be a space for dialogue, where people can come together and, despite all our differences, celebrate our uniqueness.

Marina Tabassum portrait | image © Asif Salman

project info: 

name: A Capsule in Time
architect: Marina Tabassum, Marina Tabassum Architects (MTA) | @marinatabassum
location: Serpentine South, Kensington Gardens, London, UK

event: Serpentine Pavilion | @serpentineuk
dates: June 6th – October 26th 2025

The post marina tabassum on designing the 2025 serpentine pavilion as it opens in london appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

The Serbian Pavilion at the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale adopts wool as its primary, unexpected medium, to weave an ephemeral canopy. Titled Unraveling: New Spaces, the exhibition explores the idea of transformation in contrast to ideas of architecture as a fixed entity, knitted entirely from wool into large, light, catenary drapes. The structure, a textile environment that interacts with light and time, changes with each visit, calling for rethinking architecture as impermanent and adaptable. It was designed by Davor Ereš, Jelena Mitrović, Igor Pantić, Ivana Najdanović, Sonja Krstić, and Petar Laušević, and curated by Slobodan Jovic.

Motors powered by solar panels drive the unravelling process, pulling threads gradually over the exhibition’s six-month run, until the installation eventually dissolves into the raw material from which it began, ready for reuse. Between these points, the threads hang like a suspended landscape, catching rays of the sun and shifting in shape, density, and transparency as visitors walk underneath.

all images © ReportArch / Andrea Ferro

serbian pavilion at venice biennale considers resource life cycles

The Serbian Pavilion’s choice of wool — a ubiquitous domestic material though one rarely associated with architecture — foregrounds tactility and slowness, recontextualizing Serbia’s knitting traditions through algorithmic precision and renewable energy. Its movement over the months of the Biennale is systematic as it makes visible the passage of time and the quiet undoing of form, revealing a meditation on impermanence and material circularity.

Presented under the Biennale’s curatorial theme Intelligens. Natural. Artificial. Collective., Unraveling aligns closely with the call for expanded definitions of intelligence and authorship in architectural practice, utilizing technology only for its subtle nuances in production. The installation makes a subtle statement, remaining low-energy and reversible to foster a special care for materials amid challenges such as resource scarcity through an architecture of relationships. Its immersive effect, too, lies in the accumulation and unraveling of threads that create a suspended architecture above visitors. 

the pavilion of the Republic of Serbia at the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale

The project is developed by a collaborative multidisciplinary team that moves fluidly between architecture, fashion, energy research, and digital technology. Architects Davor Ereš, Jelena Mitrović, and Igor Pantić contribute expertise in computational design and fabrication, while designers Ivana Najdanović and Sonja Krstić bring deep knowledge of textile structures and knitwear construction. Researcher Petar Laušević, working in renewable energy has developed the system that powers the installation.

titled Unraveling: New Spaces

the exhibition explores the idea of transformation in contrast to ideas of architecture as a fixed entity

knitted entirely from wool into large, light, catenary drapes

a textile environment that interacts with light and time

changes with each visit, calling for rethinking architecture as impermanent and adaptable

the work slowly unravels over time

it will eventually dissolve into the raw material from which it began, ready for reuse

the installation makes a subtle statement, remaining low-energy and reversible to foster a special care for materials

recontextualizing Serbia’s knitting traditions through algorithmic precision

the threads hang like a suspended landscape

project info: 

name: Unraveling: New Spaces

curator: Slobodan Jovic

exhibition authors: Davor Ereš, Jelena Mitrović, Igor Pantić, Ivana Najdanović, Sonja Krstić, and Petar Laušević

location: Serbian Pavilion, Arsenale, Venice, Italy

program: Venice Architecture Biennale | @labiennale

dates: May 10th — November 23rd, 2025

The post ephemeral canopies of wool drape over serbian pavilion at venice architecture biennale appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

At the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale, Uzbekistan turns towards one of the lesser known icons of its modernist heritage: the Sun Institute of Material Science, better recognized as the Heliocomplex. As the protagonist of the nation’s pavilion, titled A Matter of Radiance, the structure’s underlying dualities and ambiguities are embraced and reconstructed by Ekaterina Golovatyuk and Giacomo Cantoni of GRACE to reflect on its potential as a center for sustainable innovation and cultural inquiry.

The pavilion has been commissioned by Gayane Umerova, Chairperson of the Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation (ACDF) and builds on the long-term research project, Tashkent Modernism XX/XXI, which they launched in 2021. Since then, the architects, guided by ACDF, have been working to document and preserve 24 modernist structures across the city, one of which is the Heliocomplex located just a few hours away in Parkent. In conversation with designboom, Golovatyuk and Cantoni share that across this initiative, the Heliocomplex built in 1987 was the one that best responded to Carlo Ratti’s curatorial theme for the biennale, Intelligens: Natural. Artificial. Collective. As a site conceived to harness solar energy at extreme temperatures for material testing, now evolving to further this scientific research with an embedded social layer, its identity is not fixed. The Heliocomplex, they note, also stands out for its several spatial and conceptual contradictions — monumental yet fragile, futuristic yet obsolete, scientific yet mystical. The pavilion thus interrogates this enduring ambiguity: ‘We decided to decline the conventional narrative of preservation and instead intersect it with one of sustainability. The Heliocomplex allowed us to speak about both,’ Golovatyuk tells designboom. The pavilion thus presents a dual narrative through fragments of objects from the site, or envisioned for it, that reflects on the Heliocomplex’s role in Uzbekistan’s recent modernist legacy.

image by Gerda Studio, courtesy of ACDF

grace studio reconsiders dualities of the heliocomplex

Situated near Tashkent, the vast structure is one of the last infrastructures built before the collapse of the Soviet Union, designed for scientific experimentation. Today, it stands largely underutilized as one of only two large-scale solar furnaces still in existence globally, yet, for the Milan-based practice GRACE, it remains a powerful symbol of scientific and architectural research that ACDF seeks to revitalize. Although the furnace was operational for just five years, it continued to host scientific work in shifting capacities well into the post-Soviet period, and its monumental scale, typical of late Soviet infrastructural ambition, along with the socio-political background of the time, rendered it both functionally redundant and open to reinvention. The curators take this unresolved quality as a productive tension for the Uzbekistan Pavilion, proposing that the building’s vast, sculptural form and multiple layers is what allows it to adapt to new purposes and meanings over time.

To stage this conversation, the architects have broken the Heliocomplex down into fragments, from scientific relics, and architectural reconstructions to new artistic commissions, that each extend the building’s meaning in a different direction. These include solar reflectors, structural components, and a working solar cooker placed at the pavilion’s entrance.‘One example is a table installation by Esther Sheynfeld who presents this kind of debris of research, putting together pieces that found application, and others that didn’t,’ Ekaterina Golovatyuk tells us. ‘We also brought in a small heliostat, just one-fifth the size of those in Parkent. This one is a newer-generation prototype, and after the Biennale, it will return to Parkent where it can help upgrade the outdated 1980s-era technology. In that sense, the exhibition is also about enabling the site’s future development.’ While some of these objects have been slightly modified, their recontextualization reveals latent meanings, functions, and imaginaries embedded in the original site. Through a sparse but evocative spatial arrangement, the exhibition also poses an embodied reflection on energy, technology, and the narratives we construct around infrastructure and heritage. Read our full conversation below.

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

interview with grace studio

designboom (DB): Please introduce your journey into this project. How did you come to focus on this particular structure from Tashkent’s modernist heritage, and what drew you to the Heliocomplex as the pavilion’s protagonist?

Giacomo Cantoni (GC): Everything stemmed from a wider research initiative called Tashkent Modernism, about the city’s modernist architectural heritage. This project led us to identify 20 buildings that were later listed as national monuments. Among them, the solar furnace stood out because it aligned most closely with the curatorial statement by Carlo Ratti for this year’s Biennale.

Ekaterina Golovatyuk (EG): We decided to decline the conventional narrative of preservation and instead intersect it with one of sustainability. The Heliocomplex allowed us to speak about both. Preservation is not always sustainable, per se, so we were interested in embracing that ambiguity. We wanted to define sustainability in a more subtle, complex way, than just talking about simply harnessing solar energy.

image by Gerda Studio, courtesy of ACDF

DB: How does the curation frame these ambiguities and dualities?

EG: We’re not just leaving it open-ended, but we’re embracing the ambiguity as a value in itself. This isn’t unique to the Heliocomplex — all technology is ambivalent, and all technology is a result of social, political, and economic decisions. It’s never absolute or neutral, so this space opens up conversations around this. We explore this by deconstructing the Heliocomplex into a number of fragments. Some parts speak to its scientific values, while others reflect the more triumphant or less successful moments of its existence.

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

DB: Can you walk us through some of the works in the pavilion that capture these different dimensions of the Heliocomplex — its scientific, symbolic, and architectural layers?

EG: One example is a table installation by Esther Sheynfeld who presents this kind of debris of research, putting together pieces that found application, and others that didn’t. We also brought in a small heliostat prototype, just one-fifth the size of those in Parkent. It helps us speak about the humongous scale of the Heliocomplex, and after the Biennale, it will return to Parkent where it can help upgrade the outdated 1980s-era technology. In that sense, the exhibition is also about enabling the site’s future development. Then there’s the architectural component represented by a one-to-one scale model of the original lab building’s facade, which had been dismantled due to obsolescence. Using original drawings and with support from Italian structural engineers, we reconstructed and optimized it for the pavilion.

 image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

The Heliocomplex itself featured four sculptural works, so we also included a Soviet-era chandelier by Latvian artist Irena Lipiene that reflects the tradition of monumental art in Soviet scientific projects. It is called Parade of Planets, a rare astronomical event when seven planets align. In a way, we see it as a latent declaration of the Soviet Union’s space conquest ambitions. Then we brought in the original model from the late 1970s, which was used to convince government officials to support the construction of the Heliocomplex. And finally, we included a painting depicting the authors of the original project. It shows the human presence behind it all.

GC: And these benches which we are sitting on, they’re also found on-site in Parkent. It’s interesting because the infrastructure was originally restricted and not open to the public, yet the benches are also typical of public space. Including them was a way to reflect on that shift.

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

DB: Alongside these architectural and scientific elements, how did the new commissions contribute to deepening or reframing the narrative around the Heliocomplex?

EG: Each of the three artists we invited tried to give a more poetic, cultural reading of the Heliocomplex. Mohideen Rizkiyev worked with scientists to create a 40-centimeter ceramic plate which is the same size as the solar furnace’s focal point, and it is an installation for meditation. Azamat Abbasov created a video installation that tries to bind all the pavilion’s different elements into one narrative, and he tries to connect them using the only thing we don’t really see — light.

Many of the original elements are also being reactivated with new meanings in a contemporary context. The Heliocomplex is being reinterpreted from just a scientific monument to a hub for sustainability, which wasn’t part of its original identity. It’s also become an educational infrastructure with a public dimension, so we’re trying to communicate that layered complexity in the pavilion.

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

DB: Although you speak of these elements as ‘fragments’, they come together to evoke all these interconnected aspects of the building’s identity. How did you approach the spatial arrangement of the pavilion?

EG: Giacomo and I have long been preoccupied with the theme of preservation, and even in our exhibition design, we care deeply about how context interacts with the work. We never want to erase that or dominate the space. At the Arsenale, we wanted to keep the space very open, letting in natural light, so that the existing architecture would interact with the objects we brought in. That context adds richness and complexity to what’s on display.

image by Gerda Studio, courtesy of ACDF

DB: In terms of context, then, the historic industrial language of the Arsenale contrasts quite sharply with the modernist expressions of the Heliocomplex. Does that juxtaposition creates new layers of meaning, or does it function more like a scenography?

EG: It’s an interesting parallel that adds another narrative layer, I think. The Arsenale was once a piece of utilitarian infrastructure, and in a way, so was the Heliocomplex, though from a very different era and for a very different purpose. Also, it’s always a challenge to curate an architectural exhibition, especially because of scale. Unlike art, when you’re displaying the object itself, here you’re evoking something that’s absent.

GC: That’s why we brought in original elements or built new ones at a one-to-one scale. We deliberately stretched the installation across the pavilion to evoke the scale and presence of the actual Heliocomplex.

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

DB: You mentioned the heliostat prototype will return to Parkent. Were all the new works and reconstructions conceived with a post-Biennale application in mind?

EG: Yes, we designed the pavilion so that nothing would go to waste. Everything either came from Uzbekistan and will be returned, or was created here to be used there afterward.

The stands that support the commissioned works, for example, are actually mirror-testing tripods used by scientists. We also plan to reinstalled the facade mock-up at the actual site to persuade authorities to restore the original architecture. The heliostat model is fully functional and will be used for future scientific research, and, actually, we also see it as an opportunity to create collaborations between European and Uzbekistan researchers.

Even the bench, the only object that might not return, is made from an organic concrete alternative using rice husk. It can be dismantled and returned to the landscape. And since rice is a key part of Uzbek culture and agriculture, maybe this can stimulate new types of construction typologies that are both sustainable and culturally embedded. The Biennale is a great platform where such connections can take place.

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

image by Gerda Studio, courtesy of ACDF

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

image by Luca Capuano, courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia

image by Gerda Studio, courtesy of ACDF

project info:

name: A Matter of Radiance 

curator: GRACE | @grace.office

architects: Giacomo Cantoni, Ekaterina Golovatyuk

location: Uzbekistan Pavilion, Arsenale, Venice, Italy

commissioner: Uzbekistan Art and Culture Development Foundation (ACDF)

program: Venice Architecture Biennale | @labiennale

dates: May 10th — November 23rd, 2025

The post GRACE on revitalizing uzbekistan’s soviet modernist legacy at venice architecture biennale appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

At the 19th edition of the Venice Architecture Biennale, Qatar unveils a major installation: Community Center by esteemed Pakistani architect and humanitarian Yasmeen Lari. Situated in a central position in the Giardini, the work marks Qatar’s first participation at the Giardini, and occupies the future site of the country’s permanent national pavilion, to be designed by Lina Ghotmeh.

Lari’s Community Center consciously veers between openness and shelter, presented as a domed shelter made entirely of bamboo, from its structure and arched openings to its decorative geometric motifs. ‘When you build a structure of this kind, entirely out of natural materials, it has a kind of warmth,’ the architect tells designboom during our visit to the structure. ‘It’s not imposing. It’s very welcoming.’ Read on to discover our conversation.

Yasmeen Lari portrait | image © designboom

Yasmeen Lari on building for care, community, and the planet

The installation by Yasmeen Lari is accompanied by a wider presentation under the banner of Beyti Beytak. My Home is Your Home. La mia casa è la tua casa, produced by Qatar Museums and organized by the future Art Mill Museum. Presented at both the Giardini della Biennale and the ACP-Palazzo Franchetti, this marks Qatar’s first official participation in the Venice Architecture Biennale. The theme explores how ideas of hospitality are embedded in the architecture and urban landscapes of the Middle East, North Africa, and South Asia (MENASA), while also examining how contemporary design can meet community needs and reimagine belonging.

This notion of hospitality—rooted in warmth, openness, and care—lies at the heart of both the national theme and Lari’s bamboo installation in the Giardini. While the structure continues her decades-long commitment to post-disaster reconstruction and low-carbon architecture as tools for social empowerment and resilience, it also reflects a broader ambition to reframe perceptions of vernacular architecture. The temporary pavilion challenges conventional ideas of what such architecture can be, who can build it, and whom it should serve.‘We often call it vernacular architecture, but it could be as mainstream as anything else. It certainly relies on natural materials and the economy. And it’s not extractive in any way,’ Lari shares. ‘I want to kill this idea that emergency shelters have to be disposable…There’s no need to be destroying any element of them.’ Assembled without foundations, the structure is also entirely demountable, modular and mobile – designed to be relocated without generating any waste. ‘Every little and last part of it can be used,’ the Pakistani architect continues. Find the full interview below. 

installation view of Yasmeen Lari’s Community Centre | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

in conversation with yasmeen lari

designboom (DB): Many congratulations on your project with Qatar for its first official participation at the Venice Biennale. How did your collaboration with Qatar come about, and how does this project connect with your ongoing work in post-disaster reconstruction?

Yasmeen Lari (YL): Well, as you know, my work in Pakistan has focused on rebuilding after disasters such as floods and earthquakes, and I found bamboo to be an incredible material because it’s so resilient. I designed prefab panels that could be made locally and easily transported anywhere, and we’ve built at least 10,000 of these shelters just since the floods of 2022.

This opportunity to participate with the Qatar Pavilion came about quite organically. There was an exhibition on Pakistani art in Doha (Manzar: Art and Architecture from Pakistan 1940s to Today), and we were asked to fabricate a structure that could represent Pakistan. The curators were interested in this work, and so the pavilion was built there by my team of semi-skilled artisans. Later, Her Excellency Sheikha Al Mayassa bint Hamad bin Khalifa al Thani decided it should be brought here to Venice when it was announced that Qatar will be opening their permanent pavilion, and they knew they had to place a temporary pavilion here until it was ready. Most of the materials are from Pakistan, though we also used some Tuscan bamboo. It’s been a lot of hard work getting it ready.

Lari’s Community Center consciously veers between openness and shelter | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

DB: There’s a beautiful resonance between your work and the Qatar Pavilion’s theme this year. Though you originally designed these techniques as emergency shelters, your structures are deeply welcoming and sustainable. How does the idea of ‘home’ shape your approach to architecture, and how does it come through in this pavilion?

YL: I think the title of Qatar’s exhibition this year — Beyti Beytak. My Home is Your Home. La mia casa è la tua casa — is very meaningful. It’s about home. When you build a structure of this kind, entirely out of natural materials, it has a kind of warmth, and it is very welcoming. The way we have designed this pavilion is also to make it very open. And I always say that I build for the poor, and I always try to create spaces that people can enter without hesitation.

It’s not imposing, and this beautiful setting adds to that, with the trees around us making such a difference as we bring nature into the structure. And I’m very pleased with the way it’s been working. I was told yesterday that there were some birds trying to build a nest on top of the dome. I think that’s fantastic. In my country there is a tradition dating back to the Mughal period where some beautiful structures often included places where birds and insects could nest. So, for architecture to serve people, birds, and the planet, is a very good thing.

the structure is presented as a domed shelter made entirely of bamboo | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

DB: Your sensitivity to openness and accessibility comes through in this setting. Could you also share a bit about the journey that led you here, how you moved from mainstream architectural practice to your focus on marginalized communities and working with vernacular techniques?

YL: I retired from my private practice in 2000. Early in my career, I was always very sensitive to the poverty in my country and the needs of the marginalized, and I did some small projects in that direction. But, like many architects, once you become known, the commissions get bigger and bigger, and I found myself sucked into a system of creating more for the rich and elite. I’d also already built some major buildings, including the largest structure in Pakistan at the time.

Eventually, there came a time when I felt that there was much more to be done. I started with writing more books, and then when the 2005 earthquake happened, I was working as UNESCO’s national advisor at the Lahore Fort, a beautiful World Heritage site where I had learned a lot about lime construction. I went straight to the affected areas and began building with the debris from the collapsed houses. There was a lot of stone, a lot of wood. And so I began designing seismic-resistant structures. I am still doing this, and it’s amazing how rewarding it is when you work for and with people’s needs, rather than doing it for your ego.

the temporary center challenges conventional ideas of what such architecture can be | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

DB: With all the work you’ve done on vernacular practices and zero-carbon building, how do you think these ideas can find a place in contemporary, urban architecture beyond just rural contexts?

YL: You know, we often call it vernacular architecture, but it could be as mainstream as anything else. It certainly relies on natural materials and the economy. And it’s not extractive in any way. It’s certainly time that we start looking after the Earth and taking care of its people.

I’ve used these designs in a very extensive manner, of course, in areas that have been struck by floods and earthquakes, but I think these are practices that can actually be used anywhere. The shelters can be assembled quickly for immediate shelter, like tents, without foundations. You can dismantle them and take them somewhere else. There’s no waste whatsoever. That’s something I care deeply about. I want to kill this idea that emergency shelters have to be disposable — there’s no need to be destroying any element of them.

Bamboo, for example, doesn’t require water to produce. There’s no waste, and every little and last part of it can be used. So yes, I think this is something that can be popularized in both rural and urban settings. It can be modular. And even wealthy people could build with these materials — maybe even in a more elaborate or flamboyant way. My work is comparatively simple and can be built by semi-skilled artisans, but that doesn’t mean bamboo can’t also be part of high-end architecture. There are many different ways to use it. Ultimately, the whole objective for us as architects is to lower the carbon footprint. As it is when we build with industrialized materials and the way in which we build with them, we are damaging the environment in a significant way.

‘it’s not imposing. it’s very welcoming,’ shares Lari | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

DB: Despite the simplicity, as you say, I appreciate the ways in which you’ve used materials in the pavilion to weave through decorative elements alongside the construction.

YL: Yes, those designs come from traditional motifs. They’re part of our Pakistani heritage. And if you look at the tiles in the center of the bamboo, those are made by women who were once beggars who we trained in the ancient craft of terracotta. Terracotta, as you know, is such a beautiful, gentle material. And I don’t understand why we insist on using concrete at all when terracotta serves the purpose so well. When it becomes a little damp and the water evaporates, it cools the air. It has so many wonderful attributes, and certainly we need to stop using stone and steel the way we do. Look at our cities — we’re creating urban heat islands, flooding, all sorts of issues. But if you look at places like Venice, they still use traditional paving, no concrete, and isn’t it so lovely to walk around the city? There’s so much wisdom in historical cities. We should be learning from these historical cities to give everyone, everywhere, a better life and better health.

the traditional motifs are part of Lari’s Pakistani heritage | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

DB: Beyond your pavilion here in Giardini, there’s also the broader Qatar Pavilion exhibition at the Palazzo Franchetti, which takes a wider lens on the idea of home. Have you had a chance to see it? How does it connect to the values you’ve been speaking about?

YL: They’ve put up a fantastic exhibition there. There’s so much good work. Visionaries like Hassan Fathy — who has been talking about designing for the poor since the 1940s, about participative work — are featured alongside so many others who are doing amazing things, including some young architects from across the region. It really gives a sense of how wide-reaching and diverse these conversations around home, sustainability, and community can be. And they are examples that I think should be looked to see how we can move forward and make this more of a mainstream practice.

‘for architecture to serve people, birds, and the planet, is a very good thing,’ notes the architect | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

the Community Center occupies the future site of Qatar’s permanent national pavilion | image by Giuseppe Miotto / Marco Cappelletti Studio

project info:

name: Community Center

architect: Yasmeen Lari | @heritagefoundationpk

location: Giardini, Venice, Italy

name: Beyti Beytak. My Home is Your Home. La mia casa è la tua casa
commissioner: Her Excellency Sheikha Al Mayassa bint Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani | @almayassabnthamad, Qatar Museums | @qatar_museums
curators: Aurélien Lemonier, Art Mill Museum Curator of Architecture, Design, and Gardens, and Sean Anderson, Associate Professor at Cornell University, assisted by Virgile Alexandre
location: Giardini and ACP-Palazzo Franchetti

program: Venice Architecture Biennale | @labiennale

dates: May 10th — November 23rd, 2025

The post ‘it’s time we looked after the earth’: yasmeen lari on qatar’s bamboo center at venice biennale appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

Climacool Teahouse is a temporary bamboo installation constructed by line+ studio in Chengdu’s Taikoo Li, in collaboration with adidas and ZERO. The project investigates spatial responses to urban climate through lightweight materials and atmospheric design strategies. Bamboo serves as the primary structural and environmental medium, selected for its speed of assembly, flexibility, and relevance to local vernacular architecture.

Located in a dense commercial plaza, the teahouse installation is organized around a central grove of live bamboo, beneath a suspended LED ring that references the movement of air. The concept emerged from an earlier airborne design, which was reconfigured due to urban safety restrictions. The bamboo grove replaces the idea of suspension with grounded verticality, creating a climate-responsive space informed by natural airflow and thermal comfort. The overall form is composed of two concentric cylinders. Fresh bamboo stalks bend radially from the upper ring and are anchored at the base, forming an inward-facing forest canopy. The ring above, made from lightweight digital fabrication, acts as a visual and climatic element. Dry ice, misting systems, and mechanical fans are integrated into the structure to modulate temperature and simulate a level-5 breeze (8.0–10.8 m/s), offering perceptible airflow within the space.

Climacool Teahouse by line+ studio in Chengdu’s Taikoo Li | all images by Arch-Exist Photography unless stated otherwise

live bamboo in layered vertical enclosure forms the installation

Four core design elements comprise the installation by architectural firm line+ studio: the Bamboo Grove, Bamboo Strips, Bamboo Furniture, and Environmental Control. The interior spatial core, composed of live bamboo, creates a layered vertical enclosure. Bamboo stalks are fixed between a lightweight tensioned canopy and the ground, forming a cylindrical grove with a shaded, enclosed interior. Continuous woven bamboo strips form the vertical and horizontal surfaces of the outer enclosure. These strips extend to form seating elements on the plaza side, integrating building envelope and public interface. The system conceals mechanical and electrical systems while softening site boundaries. All seating and tables are produced from untreated bamboo using traditional construction methods. The furniture design references Chengdu’s teahouse culture and contributes to the spatial programming of the pavilion. Due to time constraints, the architectural team completed parts of the fabrication process on-site. Cooling elements include a central misting unit beneath the ring canopy and secondary misting under the perimeter benches. Fans embedded in the floor beneath the central circle create vertical airflow in sync with the Climacool shoe campaign’s performance concept.

a central grove of live bamboo forms the spatial core of the installation

Climacool Teahouse creates microclimatic relief in urban center

The installation’s construction was completed within a five-day window, requiring coordinated prefabrication and on-site assembly. Restrictions on working hours and weather disruptions were addressed through phased deployment and adaptive workflows. Following the exhibition period, modular seating units were removed and relocated to various urban public spaces, extending the material and functional life of the project. The installation is part of an ongoing investigation by line+ into spatial strategies that accommodate urban climate and ephemeral use, using minimal means and materials adaptable to local contexts.

Rather than a permanent structure, Climacool Teahouse operates as a temporary urban interface, providing short-term environmental comfort and spatial orientation. It explores the role of architecture in creating microclimatic relief and contributes to the discourse on lightweight, adaptive urban installations.

the project was created in collaboration with adidas and ZERO | image by line+

fresh bamboo stalks are bent radially and fixed to form a shaded, enclosed interior space

a suspended LED ring above the bamboo grove references airflow and climatic movement

the structure releases mist outward from beneath the outer benches to offer moments of relief around the plaza

the outer bamboo enclosure extends into modular seating units accessible from the plaza

two concentric cylinders shape the pavilion, integrating both structural clarity and environmental control

cooling is enhanced by misting nozzles and underfloor fans, creating microclimatic variation

project info:

name: Climacool Teahouse

architect: line+ studio | @lineplus_studio

location: East Plaza of Taikoo Li, Sichuan, Chengdu, China

built area: 294 sqm

principal architect: Zhu Peidong

design team: Sun Xiaoyu, Zhou Yang, Cao Linlin, Chen Puyu, Du Mengying

client: adidas Sports (China) Co., Ltd.

curatorial agency: ZERO

construction collaboration: Frasers Exhibition Services Co., Ltd. (Shanghai/Beijing)

structural design: Luanlu Structure Architectural Design Studio (Chengdu) Co., Ltd.

structure: Steel frame

material: Bamboo

photographer: Arch-Exist Photography | @archexist, line+

designboom has received this project from our DIY submissions feature, where we welcome our readers to submit their own work for publication. see more project submissions from our readers here.

edited by: christina vergopoulou | designboom

The post line+ crafts circular live bamboo teahouse responding to chengdu’s urban climate appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

At the 19th International Architecture Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia, Estonia makes a bold statement by literally wrapping a Venetian palazzetto in insulation panels. Titled Let Me Warm You, the pavilion curated by architects Keiti Lige, Elina Liiva, and Helena Männa addresses the urgent question: are energy-efficient renovations across Europe’s mass housing districts simply bureaucratic measures, or can they become meaningful tools for spatial and social transformation? Presented by the Ministry of Culture of Estonia, the installation and exhibition run until November 23, 2025, taking over a waterfront building just steps from the Biennale’s main grounds.

all images ©Joosep Kivimäe

wrapping reality in insulation as both material and metaphor

On the outside of the building housing the Estonian Pavilion exhibition, a sober, fiber-cement facade, typical of Estonian Soviet-era renovations, sits in stark contrast to Venice’s ornate architecture. This gesture replays the reality in Estonia, where mass housing upgrades often proceed with minimal architectural input, focusing purely on technical fixes. But here, in the heart of a city synonymous with beauty and history, the juxtaposition hits harder, aiming to propose a better way forward, one that doesn’t leave architecture out of renovation conversations.

Inside the Venetian palazzetto, the narrative deepens. A ground-floor apartment is wrapped in clear plastic film, turning the exhibition space into a living metaphor for the suffocating nature of shallow upgrades. The installation uses theatrical models, overheard dialogues, and real-life anecdotes to explore how collective ownership, financial limitations, and human relationships shape the renovation process. In Estonia, where most apartments are privately owned and decisions are made communally, insulation becomes a stage where power, trust, and aesthetics collide.

at Venice Architecture Biennale 2025, Estonia wraps a Venetian palazzetto in insulation panels

architecture without architects in the age of climate urgency

The pavilion cleverly responds to Venice Architecture Biennale 2025 curator Carlo Ratti’s call to confront architecture’s role in the climate crisis under the theme Intelligens. Natural. Artificial. Collective. In that context, Estonia’s message is refreshingly sharp: what happens when residents, not architects, steer the renovation process? The result, as the curators suggest, is a clash between bold climate goals and lived realities. Let Me Warm You invites Europe to imagine a future where environmental policy and everyday life coexist. The exhibition is accompanied by a six-scene catalogue that blends satire and sociology, portraying the tragicomic dynamics of life in a Soviet-era housing block.

titled Let Me Warm You, the pavilion is curated by architects Keiti Lige, Elina Liiva, and Helena Männa

a sober, fiber-cement facade, typical of Estonian Soviet-era renovations, sits in contrast to Venice’s architecture

this gesture replays the reality in Estonia, where mass housing upgrades often proceed with minimal architectural input

the waterfront building is just steps from the Biennale’s main grounds

proposing a way that doesn’t leave architecture out of renovation conversations

inside the Venetian palazzetto, the narrative deepens

a ground-floor apartment is wrapped in clear plastic film

the exhibition space becomes a living metaphor for the suffocating nature of shallow upgrades

exploring how collective ownership, financial limitations, and human relationships shape the renovation process

the installation uses theatrical models, overheard dialogues, and real-life anecdotes

project info:

name: Pavilion of Estonia at the 19th International Architecture Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia
theme: Let Me Warm You | @estonianpavilion
curators/exhibitors: Keiti Lige, Elina Liiva, Helena Männa

commissioner: Johanna Jõekalda

location: Castello 1611, Riva dei Sette Martiri, Venice, Italy

dates: May 10 – November 23, 2025

organiser: Ministry of Culture of Estonia

co-organiser: Estonian Museum of Architecture | @arhitektuurimuuseum

creative team: Märten Rattasepp, Kirill Havanski, Aadam Kaarma, Joosep Kivimäe

production: Mari-Liis Vunder

collaborators: Neeme Külm (Valge Kuup Studio), Margus Tammik, Robert Männa, Markus Puidak, Randel Pomber

Supporters: Ministry of Culture of Estonia, Cultural Endowment of Estonia, KMT Prefab OÜ, Swisspearl Group AS, PK-Salong, Luminor Bank AS, Brightlux Group OÜ, RAITWOOD, AS Craft drinks company MULL°, Rothoblaas, AT Prateko OÜ, Inmarx Partners OÜ, Estonian Academy of Arts/ Erasmus+, LIFE IP BuildEST, ESSVE Estonia AS, Sokisahtel OÜ.

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