The jury and the public have had their say — feast your eyes on the winners of Architizer's 12th Annual A+Awards. Subscribe to our Awards Newsletter to receive future program updates.

Right now, the British Standards Institute (BSI), Colombia’s ICONTEC, and experts from around 170 national standards agencies have a huge job on their hands. An independently verifiable system for measuring net zero needs to be presented at COP30 next year, and the lay of the land today is a mixture of confusion, chaos and confidence tricks. At best, the ‘carbon market’ has had a turbulent time over the past decade. Meaningless credits have done enough to damage trust in a sector most people have never fully understood, and even buying legitimate offsets raises massive questions about overall legitimacy. 

How can we ever hope to rebalance our planet’s atmospheric content, necessary for it to continue supporting life over the coming millennia, if we’re not actually addressing the root cause? Instead, we’re paying into piecemeal projects as part of a broader corporate social responsibility directive, which is also part of a sales angle. Without sounding cynical, it’s easy to feel very cynical. 

However, a singular truth is always worth remembering — everything we build from here on should use as few resources as possible, using the most environmentally friendly materials and processes. This is an approach the famously climate-aligned MGA | Michael Green Architecture took for Google’s new home in Sunnyvale, California. A strikingly angular five-story office building, like the BSI, faced a monumental challenge helping bring down the sizeable footprint of a tech giant while also setting new standards in the architecture industry  — for biophilic and structural design, construction techniques, material sourcing and carbon reduction.

Google Borregas by MGA | Michael Green Architecture, Sunnyvale, California | Jury and Popular Choice Winner, Architecture +Workspace; Jury Winner, Architecture + Wood, 12th Annual A+Awards

The pilot project is the fruit of five years of rigorous research and development alongside Google, in collaboration with SERA Architects and XL construction. A departure from its typical steel, glass and concrete neighbors in Silicon Valley, MGA has used mass timber, timber-glass, cross-laminated timber and glulam throughout their LEED Platinum structure (materials we’ve featured numerous times in projects boasting comparatively low embodied carbon). Overall, a whole-building life cycle analysis has shown that the project’s global warming potential is 47% lower than the baseline and 96% lower when biogenic carbon sequestration is accounted for.

An ‘envelope’ filter system featuring closed-cavity skin, wooden blinds and high performance glass means temperature and light levels are responsive and climate control comes with a reduced energy footprint. Analysis of energy and daylighting informed the building massing and façade at a 35% reduction from baseline. The amount of natural light flooding in also forms part of wider biophilic design principles primarily employed for staff welfare and wellbeing — another being the siting, in a quiet landscape of local fauna, with the intention of building a connection between employees and nature. Again, it’s a case of what’s better for the planet is better for us, too.

Google Borregas by MGA | Michael Green Architecture, Sunnyvale, California | Jury and Popular Choice Winner, Architecture +Workspace; Jury Winner, Architecture + Wood, 12th Annual A+Awards

As MGA Principal Natalie Telewiak put it, the project “promotes health, connects to nature, and addresses the global need for repeatable, affordable, and sustainable new buildings.” This scalable solution is an ambitious effort on the part of the Vancouver-based firm to create a prototype for more sustainable — in an expanded and conscientious use of the term — workplaces in the future.

Natural materials are blended perfectly with views over surrounding landscapes the building actively complements with its earthy, timber look and feel. Cantilevers create covered areas, speaking to the less uniform aesthetics we find everyday in nature. This variety is mirrored on the inside, where mixed single and double height areas connect through a four story atrium. Here, daylight is again used to maximum effect with a timber-glass skylight accentuating the feeling of not quite being indoors.

Google Borregas by MGA | Michael Green Architecture, Sunnyvale, California | Jury and Popular Choice Winner, Architecture +Workspace; Jury Winner, Architecture + Wood, 12th Annual A+Awards

Reuse and circularity are also high on the agenda, serving as a reminder that redesigning, redeveloping and renovating alone are not enough to redeem a carbon-addicted industry; while better than demolition, an entirely new way of thinking about sustainability is required. So many buildings desperately need bringing up to modern efficiency and sustainability standards, and if not done in a future-oriented manner, retrofitting will surely be required again later on. Not so at Google Borregas; the tech company’s commercial flagship has essentially been future-proofed.

Floor plans are made to be fully reconfigured and so can be adapted to suit myriad purposes and phases of the business cycle, a decision that speaks to the green agenda as much as an understanding that in industries like tech staffing levels can fluctuate wildly. New departments will be born, deep recessions will hit again in the future.

Timber detailing at Google Borregas by MGA | Michael Green Architecture, Sunnyvale, California | Jury and Popular Choice Winner, Architecture +Workspace; Jury Winner, Architecture + Wood, 12th Annual A+Awards

There are greater challenges at play here, too. MGA’s blueprint reflects a major corporation taking responsibility for the footprint of its estate, and the mental and physical health of staff — values that are both symbolized and enacted in the building’s plan and functions. Of course, the fusing of nature with technology is also symbolic. These ideas can sometimes feel at odds with multinational globalized business culture as a whole, and if there’s a lot of ground to make up in the court of public opinion for companies with more GDP than entire nations, there’s an even bigger hill to climb in terms of perceptions of environmental accountability.

At Google, this is particularity pronounced. The onset of AI has sent energy consumption soaring across the sector, and according to Bloomberg the company is now warming the planet 48 times faster than it was in 2019 — a rate which, without serious interventions, is only going to increase exponentially as a relativity nascent tech field becomes increasingly mainstream and widely used. The firm’s plan to run on 100% green energy by 2030 is just one example of steps being taken, as is the new approach to carbon budgeting.

Atrium inside Google Borregas by MGA | Michael Green Architecture, Sunnyvale, California | Jury and Popular Choice Winner, Architecture +Workspace; Jury Winner, Architecture + Wood, 12th Annual A+Awards

Yet, this year, for the first time since 2007, Google is no longer carbon neutral. Given the rapid rise in its energy use, it’s alarming to think the company could have claimed such status until this year, emphasizing how skewed current net zero measurements can be. The decision at board level to stop using offsets and instead deal with actual emissions, with Google Borregas contributing to this reduction, definitely isn’t the norm. But it is also a shrewd move.

One of the reasons the BSI and its affiliates are working on a net zero standardization is because of the complexity of gauging corporate impact. Without a standard we will never accurately set targets. And if that standard is fit for purpose, once it has been adopted there will be few options left for companies other than direct reduction.

Though MGA has long been a leader in addressing architecture’s green shortcomings, by taking a holistic approach to sustainability by addressing embodied and operational carbon, energy reduction and renewables, Google Borregas provides a repeatable template for flexibility and long life that, just like the tech giant whose headquarters it houses, also sets new standards for their peers in the architecture industry.

The jury and the public have had their say — feast your eyes on the winners of Architizer's 12th Annual A+Awards. Subscribe to our Awards Newsletter to receive future program updates.

The post Timber Tech: MGA’s Google HQ Offers a Total Vision for New Green Architecture appeared first on Journal.

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As a kid, all the buildings I loved were old. I grew up in Cranbury, New Jersey, a small town best known for its Rockwellesque Main Street lined with historic homes. Think white colonials with wrap-around porches adorned with patriotic bunting, wooden churches with dramatic steeples, and bronze placards from the local historical society indicating where the local mill, general store, and cinema once stood.  

Many of my friends lived in homes built in the 19th century, which might not seem like a big deal to our European readers, but for an American child, this was enough to convey an Aura of History. I loved these houses, with their scratched hardwood floors, crooked ceilings and doors that never quite closed. Teachers at Cranbury School told us how George Washington once enjoyed a meal at the still-operational Cranbury Inn. On my walk home from school, I often passed through Brainerd Cemetery and visited the eroded gravestones of Revolutionary War veterans. Ghosts were in the air here — in a good way. They gave the town a sense of place amid the anonymous sprawl of suburban New Jersey.

Zeete, 26, 28 North Main Street, Cranbury, NJ, CC BY-SA 4.0

The Aura of History was foundational to my early interest in architecture and design.  As a kid I had a strong sense that some buildings evoked a sense of place and that others did not, and I resented the soullessness of much of the surrounding suburban landscape, with its endless parking lots and charmless big box stores. 

The point of all of this is to say that I understand, emotionally, where classicists are coming from when they lament the legacy of modernism, especially the International Style, which they (half-correctly) blame for having an anonymizing effect on cities around the world. I even understand the bitterness that classical architects feel toward their marginality in the profession. (When was the last time a classicist won the Pritzker Prize?) And to be clear, there is a lot of bitterness there. 

The classical alternative to the Pritzker Prize is the Richard H. Driehaus Award. Presented by the University of Notre Dame, the annual award grants a $200,000 prize to “a living architect whose work embodies the highest ideals of traditional and classical architecture in contemporary society, and creates a positive cultural, environmental and artistic impact.” The award aligns with the “classical and urbanist curriculum” of the University of Notre Dame School of Architecture, which “celebrat[es] and advanc[es] the principles of the traditional city.” The award was established in 2003 by the late financier Richard H. Driehaus who made no bones about his dissatisfaction with the state of architecture. 

“I believe architecture should be of human scale, representational form and individual expression that reflects a community’s architectural heritage,” Driehaus explained when asked why he established the prize. “There is a delight, proportion and harmony in classical architecture that I wasn’t finding in the contemporary buildings coming up around me in Chicago.” 

Driehaus’s criticism of modern architecture was not unique — nor was it new. In one form or another, these same themes have been expressed for over half a century by figures as varied as Jane Jacobs, Roger Scruton and Thomas Heatherwick. In his recent book Humanize, which I reviewed for Architizer last month, Heatherwick refers to the architectural profession as a “cult” that is bizarrely committed to a minimalist aesthetic template established in mid twentieth century despite the fact that survey after survey shows that the public does not like these kinds of buildings. 

While Heatherwick shares the classicist critique of modernism, he is not a classicist. For him, the solution is not to return to tradition, but to take a more critical look at contemporary building practices and strive to find new ways to achieve that sense of place, that je ne sais quoi, I once admired in my little picturesque hometown. One can see this philosophy at work in the playful nature of many of Heatherwick’s best known buildings, like Learning Hub South in Singapore, which locals refer to as the “dim sum basket building” due to its resemblance to the steamer baskets used to serve dim sum. In Heatherwick’s language, this building is “human” in the way an anonymous, merely functional academic building with a glass or metal façade would not be. 

Learning Hub, Nanyang Technological University by Heatherwick Studio, Singapore

Heatherwick’s ideas are themselves something of a throwback to the views of Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown, who helped established postmodern architecture in the 1970s by critiquing the “less is more” ethos of the High Modernists. As the duo put it in their book Learning from Las Vegas, “anomalies and uncertainties give validity to architecture.” I love that. It speaks to the importance of local texture and idiosyncrasy that led me, as a young man, to prefer old houses to new ones and to find homogenous chain restaurants to be not just ugly but depressing.

I am going to name the Venturi-Brown-Heatherwick position left populism, even though the sensibility is aesthetic rather than political. Like the Jacobins who sat on the left hand side of the National Convention during the French Revolution — establishing the terms “left” and “right” to describe the political spectrum — the architectural left populists are discontented with the present, but committed to a vision of the future that will be different from the past. Architectural left populism encourages a bricolage approach to design and urbanism, drawing on both the modernist tradition and earlier periods in architecture to create buildings that speak to the present. It is not the same as right populism, which is a point of view I see reflected in the mission statement of the Driehaus Prize, with its repeated use of the word “traditional.” (However, to the Driehaus’s credit, the award has been grants to architects I would consider left populists as well, including Michael Graves in 2013.)

Again, the way I am using the words left and right here is not strictly political. However, it is not not political either. Architectural right populism is often, but not always, associated with political conservatism. King Charles is probably the most infamous right populist in architecture, having gone so far as to construct a whole town according to classical architectural principles. Indeed, Charles’s Poundbury is a good example of the right populist viewpoint in action. Harmony, balance, a sense of cohesiveness that never crosses over into monotony — all of this is achieved. However, in my view, there is something bleak about this contrived little town. With everything arranged just so, according to historical architectural styles, one intuits not merely reverence for the past, but anxiety about the present.

Another person you might have heard of, Donald Trump, is an architectural classicist too — despite the fact that he has built a bunch of shiny glass towers. In 2020, then President Trump issued an executive order banning the construction of new federal buildings that were not constructed in one of six recognized styles: “Neoclassical, Georgian, Federal, Greek Revival, Beaux-Arts, and Art Deco.” As with the construction of Poundbury, the goal here was not just to elevate classical architecture, but to make a statement against modernism. And for conservatives, modernism is not just a style, but an embodiment of progressive ideals.

The work of Peter Pennoyer, the most recent winner of the Driehaus Prize, is a good example of classical architecture at its best. The private homes he has designed are absolutely magnificent, blending harmoniously into their context whether that is a brownstone block in Manhattan or a marshy estate in Maine. He achieves this, he says, through paying attention to classical principles such as proportion, harmony and beauty — ideals that Vitruvius knew well but that modern architecture has not only overlooked but, in Pennoyer’s account, actively suppressed.

“So I graduated from college in 1981, architecture school in 1984. And there were people who were more excited about Modernism, certainly the faculty,” Pennoyer explains in a recent interview with Common/Edge. “You heard things like, ‘Well, your symmetry is fascist.’ Another favorite of mine, which has stuck in my mind forever: A professor looked at a beautiful arch for a subsidized housing scheme, one of our studio problems. He looked at this arch and said, ‘What a pity. Because where there are arches, there are princes, and where there are princes, there are slaves.’”

Pennoyer’s anecdote reflects a number of common right populist tropes. He blames modern architecture’s blandness on the revolutionary fervor of professors who express their radicalism in aesthetics because they cannot do so in politics. They distrust beauty because they distrust everything, having totally imbibed the hermeneutics of suspicion.

It’s a caricature, but is it true? Maybe a little?

Asked in this same interview if beauty is subjective, Pennoyer has an interesting response: “I think there is an absolute standard of beauty around which we can all, most people, agree — until they go to architecture school or study architectural theory. I think it’s educated out of people. There’s much more consensus and basic human instinct for beauty, proportion, and harmony than we’re led to believe. There are absolute values of beauty.”

Pennoyer’s view is that architecture schools — the elites — have trained people out of their instinctive understanding of what they like. Again we see that his view is not only conservative but populist. He presents himself as a champion of common sense over expertise. And like the right populism we see in politics, this perspective has a dark side.

If architects, en masse, accepted the right populist view and decided to stick to established and recognizable styles, the profession would be giving up on the possibility of doing something new. It would come to resemble the American motion picture industry, which for the past decade has invested heavily in sequels and remakes at the expense of original projects. These films can be enjoyable, but they are never masterpieces. Inversely, most art house films are awful, but every once in a while this scene produces a work that is truly special and enduring. Maybe flawed work is the cost of innovation.

In any event, the right populists are wrong that modernism’s shortcomings can only be addressed by returning to the past. There are other ways to address these issues, ones that don’t involve architecture becoming trapped in stylistic and ideological stasis. Heatherwick’s book Humanize proposes a way of thinking about architecture that is neither cold nor sentimental. It continues a tradition that has been overlooked for too long and has not been named until now: left populist architecture.

Cover Image: Landscape with Classical Architecture by a Lake, drawing, anonymous, French, 17th century (MET, 1972.118.15) via Wikimedia Commons

The post Architectural Classicism Versus Modernism: Ethic or Aesthetic? appeared first on Journal.

The latest edition of “Architizer: The World’s Best Architecture” — a stunning, hardbound book celebrating the most inspiring contemporary architecture from around the globe — is now available. Order your copy today.  

In 1981, Dr. Hideo Kodama invented the first rapid prototyping machine. A couple of years later, in 1986, Chuck Hull filed the first patent for stereolithography (SLA). Even though it was not apparent at the time, both inventors changed the course of manufacturing forever. One of the most significant advantages of 3D printing is its ability to materialize complex designs with impressive speed and precision while using specific amounts of the material necessary, thus reducing waste. In parallel, 3D printing technology is also democratizing manufacturing by allowing small firms and individuals to participate in their own custom components.

Even though architects are highly aware of the benefits of such technology and have witnessed countless 3D printing applications, the scale of these endeavors has primarily remained quite small. In the realm of architecture and construction, 3D printing is mostly used to print models of the actual designs rather than the design itself. Issues such as technical limitations, the lack of large-scale printers as well as concerns about material durability pose significant challenges. Still, what if we could 3D print entire cities? What kind of future settings and applications would this technology unlock?

213 Third Avenue by KUSHNER studios Architecture & Design PC, Brooklyn, New York | Popular Choice Winner, 12th Annual A+Awards, Architecture +Models and Rendering | This 14-story new residential building, planned for construction, will feature a unique ground floor system of two-story high 3D printed commercial entryways and storefronts. The company producing the 3D components is an offshoot of the designer’s architectural practice, allowing a unique delivery methodology that bypasses many of the traditional conflicts present in the current traditional architect-contractor paradigm.

Scenario 01: The Circular Metropolis

It is 2060 and a newly established city situated in Munich’s outskirts, entirely constructed using eco-friendly 3D printing materials. Walls, slabs and roofs are made of concrete, synthesized by the water and soil found on site. Disintegratable resin is used for windows and glass panels, while furniture and utility devices are 3D printed using locally sourced metals and alloys. The Circular Metropolis is primarily a research center and home to innovators who have majored in material science and aspire to develop robust and long-lasting material composites.

House Zero by ICON and Lake|Flato Architects, Austin, Texas | Jury Winner, Architecture +Experimental Design; Jury Winner, Architecture +New Technlogy, 11th Annual A+Awards

Back in 2022, House Zero, located in Austin, Texas, was completed. The project was materialized by using a 9500 pound robot that 3D printed the entirety of the residence’s walls made of a proprietary cementitious-based material dubbed “Lavacrete,” insulation, and some steel for reinforcing. The material provides increased insulation, forming an air-tight wall that slows the heat transfer into the home.

Scenario 02: The Rapid Relief Disaster Zone

On June 19th, 2043, San Francisco is devastated by a major tsunami, destroying most parts of the city. Within days of the disaster, large-scale 3D printing arms are deployed, creating temporary shelters in just a couple of hours. Over the following months, residents are contributing to the reconstruction of their homes and the city’s infrastructure, designing components and feeding them into 3D printing robots, situated all over the city. 3D printed levees and barriers are installed to protect against future flooding, turning San Francisco into an urban design model for disaster response.

Striatus 3D Printed Bridge by Zaha Hadid Architects, Venice, Italy | Jury Winner, Architecture +Concrete, 12th Annual A+Awards

In 2021, an arched masonry footbridge composed of 3D printed concrete blocks that demand no mortar or reinforcement was exhibited at the Giardini della Marinaressa during the Venice Architecture Biennale. Known as Striatus, this “striated” compression-only structure is made of flexible, interlocking building blocks, which could become dismantled and reassembled to respond to any context or functional requirement.

Scenario 03: The Heritage Preservation District

In 2037, the restoration works for the Acropolis in Athens are coming to a close. Using precise 3D printed replicas of the damaged building elements, a series of parts are produced to “fill in the gaps” of the ancient temples. The components are 3D printed out of a special pigment made of marble dust, ensuring longevity and durability, while at the same time blending seamlessly with the existing historic structure. The success of the project has instigated a new conservation program that aims to use the same processes and technologies to restore the array of deteriorating neoclassical buildings currently scattered within Athens’ historic city centre.

New Delft Blue by Studio RAP, Delft, Netherlands

In 2023, the project New Delft Blue, situated in the historic Dutch city, Delft, was completed. By integrating 3D clay printing, computational design and traditional glazing techniques, New Delft Blue set a precedent by reinterpreting traditional ceramic ornamentation and creating its contemporary 21st century version, unfolding a new architectural restoration potential based on the design language of Delft Blue porcelain.

Scenario 04: The Mars Colony

In 2100, a self-sustaining colony on Mars is constructed using entirely  3D printing technology with locally (i.e. interplanetary) sourced materials. The colony consists of domes and tunnels, designed to protect inhabitants from harsh Martian conditions. Colonists use 3D printers to create durable and insulated structures, made of regolith (MaDtian soil), functioning as greenhouses that provide fresh food, shelters and recycling centers. The portability and ease-of-use of these extraterrestrial 3d printers allow colonists to construct additional structures to accommodate their ever-growing community.

Sandy Darak Pavilion by ArmaniArchitects, Chabahar, Iran

The village of Darak is an area in Iran where the sea surrounds the sand dunes of the desert. In 2025, the construction of the Sandy Darak Pavilion will be completed. The structure is materialized through a special 3D printer, which can use endemic materials, such as clay and sand. In parallel, by using a layer-by-layer construction method, the form is gradually created without any harm or disruption to the environment and the natural surroundings.

This juxtaposition between projects that are currently materialized and potential future architectural scenarios reveal 3d printing’s immense potential. Eco-friendly materials, customizable kits-of-parts, precise components for architectural restoration as well as methods of construction that are respectful towards their context are all practices that are already becoming implemented through the 3d printing industry. By looking at today’s projects as architectural and technological prototypes, fosters an aspiration for taking these “methodologies” further and creating a future where sustainable, innovative, and contextually respectful architecture and — more importantly — its materialization becomes a reality.

The latest edition of “Architizer: The World’s Best Architecture” — a stunning, hardbound book celebrating the most inspiring contemporary architecture from around the globe — is now available. Order your copy today.  

Featured Image: House Zero by ICON and Lake|Flato Architects

The post The Future of Architecture: How Today’s 3D-Printed Projects Could Shape Tomorrow’s Urban Landscape appeared first on Journal.