#38/39

On a quiet Corona street, a jazz center, a house museum, and a domestic revolution

A crucial part of the Israeli state project is about leaving Palestinians with no physical place to call home.

The new World Trade Center was art-less. And then the giant marble cube arrived.

Why don’t architects have anything to say about Gaza?

Big money and anodyne architecture are poised to take over South Ozone Park’s legendary Aqueduct Racetrack.

With his lease as his leash, caged in this giant city-cum-dog park, our columnist roams the streets as a stray, guided by unseemly scents.

306 West 142nd Street—a condo building two blocks from St. Nicholas Park—is no longer a part of my personal stomping grounds. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have beef.

On the avant-garde roots of Saudi Arabia’s improbable linear city

The imminent destruction of a postmodern gem should inspire reflection on those dwindling resources: time and care.

The magazine batted down a suggestion from its architects to put bookshelf wallpaper on the wall: it would be redundant.

As New Yorkers look to the past, present, and future of social housing, we find more questions than answers.

The buildings’ stories, not just their architectural qualities, are the focus of the exhibition.

American Framing is overly eager to claim new ground for something that is surely unsustainable in the long term.

The category Directed by Child of the Architect dominated this year’s Architecture and Design Film Festival.

Why is this replica here? Why is there a deep-rooted collective association between Barragán and Mexican identity? What lies behind the towering terrace walls?

“Trying hard to be the New York Film Festival—not the Lincoln Center or Upper West Side Film Festival.”

The people and things that John Wilson assembles in his beguiling anthology remain unassimilable in their bizarre singularity.

Therapy-speak for those bitten by the shopping bug.

The latest iteration of the Chicago Architecture Biennial is not a place, it’s a direction. Who knows where it’s going?

How did a seemingly incorrigible part of New York, which countless mayors had promised, but failed, to clean up, change so drastically?

A tale where there’s never enough room, where nothing but the essential lasts, where there aren’t morals so much as morality.

The dissident architect László Rajk activated the vast possibilities of the present by invoking collective memory.

What is at stake in Flowcharting is the role that computation might play in a project for a “progressive” architecture.

For the most part, Emerging Ecologies occupies a mundane topography of composting toilets, upcycled materials, bioshelters, and geodesic domes.

Within so much physical unobtrusion and almost self-negating structures, you’ve got to supply your own atmospheric narrative.