The building industry is one of the biggest generators of carbon emissions, with some estimates suggesting that 38% percent of all CO2 emissions are linked to this field. As a response to the current crisis, architects, designers, and researchers are taking measures to reduce their carbon footprint during and after construction. Many initiatives and research teams are looking at building materials to find low-carbon solutions and reduce the impact of building materials during production.
The construction industry's future will undoubtedly include "carbon reduction" as a mandatory task. Aside from locally sourced, virgin materials, an increasing number of new materials are becoming available. New materials can be developed in several ways, including low-carbon substitution, recycling, performance enhancement, and 3D printing. New materials will not only be more environmentally friendly and enable new construction methods, but they will also influence the starting point and direction of design concepts, resulting in new buildings with new perceptions and spaces.
Architecture is often an ambitious profession, with many architects hoping to positively contribute to the social life of the communities, create emotional responses, and add moments of delight and solace to our daily experiences. However, market forces have a way of applying constant pressure on this field, often being the deciding factor in many design choices. Costs and economic value are generally a good indicator of how, when, and to what extent certain materials are being used: the standard rule is the cheaper, the better. But materials are only part of the equation. Site labor, management, and design costs are also considered, depicting a complex picture of the balance between the cost of materials and the cost of labor and its effect on the architectural product.
Many urban planners predict that by 2050, more than 6 billion people will live in cities, and in places where building outwards isn't an option, the only way to keep up with the growing density is to build up. Building taller always comes with numerous challenges and also a not-so-subtle competition for architecture firms to have their name tied to the biggest buildings. Almost as fast as a building is named one of the tallest in the world, another one makes its way to the drawing board, a few years later taking the title. While the sky’s the limit, how does this impact the constructability of projects, and what feats of construction methods and materials have enabled us to build into the clouds?
In the architectural conversations we are having in today’s world, conversations on materials are widespread. There is discussion on the viability of concrete in the contemporary context, how timber can be more sustainably sourced, and on how biodegradable materials such as bamboo should be more common sights in our urban environments.
“We should admit nature as an immense multitude of forms, including each part of us, who are part of everything”, says Ailton Krenak, renowned indigenous leader, in his book Ideas to Postpone the End of the World. The culture of native peoples does not understand humanity and the environment as things that are separate or superior to each other, but rather as parts of a whole. Through this particular understanding of the universe, these peoples are led to a sensitive appropriation of the territory, with structuring beliefs that are also reflected in their architecture, raising the very concept of sustainability to another level, since nature is not seen as a resource to be used, it is thought of as part of the community.
It is expected that by 2050, the rapid depletion of raw materials will leave the world without enough sand and steel to build concrete. On the other hand, the cost of building continues to soar, with an increase between 5% and 11% from last year. And with respect to its impact on the environment, the construction industry still accounts for 23% of air pollution, 50% of the climatic change, 40% of drinking water pollution, and 50% of landfill wastes. Evidently, the construction industry, the environment, and the human race are facing several challenges that are influenced by one another, but it is the human being who is at the greatest disadvantage.
If you’ve been avoiding some of the latest news recently, here’s a quick update; European and North American countries have been facing one of the hottest recorded summers in modern history. Discussions over the climate crises have therefore been reignited and so has the role of the design and construction industry in providing solutions that would mitigate the experienced heat effects in our daily lives. While passive cooling solutions have always been used in some parts of the world, where local resources and vernacular builds are adapted to high temperatures, other regions are looking to technological and innovative manufacturing means that would maintain human comfort, aesthetic values, and energy efficiency/ cost.
“Hope for Architecture” is the calling of Clay Chapman and described by him as “a building initiative to address the challenges of an uncertain future.” In truth, “Hope for Architecture” is a masonry and timber technology, reinvented and adapted from antiquity for this moment. Clay and his young family moved to Carleton Landing, Oklahoma fifteen years ago to fulfill a mission: creating a community and explore that technology.
Can you imagine a world in which the built environment around us is 3D printed from living materials? That buildings will germinate, bloom, wither, produce new kinds of material, and eventually return back to the soil? To Grow a Building is a performative lab space that 3D prints - in real time - a live structure. The project presents a new approach to integrating flora into the design process, by developing a novel material for 3D printing, through which seeding is an inseparable part of the fabrication process. To Grow a Building is a gate into a future world in which there are people who build buildings, and there are people who grow them.
As part of the effort to make the construction sector more sustainable in the face of the climate crisis, the bioeconomy has stood out. While the road to net-zero architecture is still very complex, the emerging shift in culture and general thinking is evident, and innovation seems to be driving this transformation.
As researcher, designer and MIT professor Caitlin Mueller once said, “The greatest value you can give to a material is to give it a load-bearing role in a structure.” Load-bearing components – foundations, beams, columns, walls, etc. – are designed to resist permanent or variable forces and movements. Similar to the bones of a human body, these support, protect and hold everything together. To fulfill that indispensable function, they must be made from materials with outstanding mechanical properties, which explains the prominence of cement and steel in structures. However, their high performance comes at a high cost: together, they account for 15% of global CO2 emissions. This makes us wonder, is it possible for structural materials to be truly sustainable? We know solutions like greener versions of concrete already exist, but there are many other alternatives to explore. And sometimes, the answer is closer than we expect; in the earth beneath us and the nature that surrounds us.
Indians have traditionally lived close to the earth, their cultures shaped by symbiotic relationships with ecosystems. Indian arts and crafts strongly rely on nature for its form, philosophy, and existence. Native landscapes aroused the artistic sensibilities of resident communities, evolving craft practices that met utilitarian and ritualistic needs. The intersectionality of ecology and culture is evident through ancestral forms of craft.
The Filipinos believe that man and woman first emerged from the nodes of a bamboo stalk. The Chinese view the cane as a symbol of their culture and values, reciting “there is no place to live without bamboo”. The plant is a symbol of prosperity in Japan and friendship in India. Along with myths and stories, strong structures made of bamboo flourished in pre-modern Asia. Built forms varied across the changing landscapes of Eastern countries, all sharing one aspect in common - a respect for natural ecosystems.
When thinking of marble, we often associate the material with ancient Greek sculptures, Classical architecture, or the Italian Renaissance. Monumental landmarks such as the St. Peter’s Basilica or the Taj Mahal, have positioned marble as an elite and timeless material that stands the test of time. And in today's conversations about the future of construction materials, amid sustainability, feasibility, and affordability, the natural stone remains high-caliber. In this interior focus, we’re taking a look at marble between the past, present, and future.
Eucalyptus forests in Australia are known to burn periodically. It is the trees' way of ensuring propagation, as its fruits – known as gumnuts – have an insulating layer breaks down with the heat of the fire. Once they open, the burnt soil is covered with seeds, initiating a process of forest renewal. Glenn Murcutt, an Australian architect, has created a body of work rooted in the country's landscape. His innovative houses embrace the possibility of frequent fires, including elements that allow for fire control with the least possible loss. In short, the houses are built with very non-flammable materials, always have huge water reservoirs, and a “flood system” that allows the building and its immediate surroundings to be spared in the case of a forest fire.
Architecture is born from materials. Between structure, light, movement, and comfort, materials profoundly shape our experiences. But materials also change over time, new ones are created, and a wide range of assemblies and construction techniques are introduced. Increasingly, architects and designers are looking into the possibilities of composite materials made with natural elements.
Fungi are almost everywhere - in the air you breathe, the soil you walk on, we eat them and yes, they do also live inside of us.