Are you planning a visit to Expo 2025 in Osaka? Then you should definitely make a detour to Kyoto. As a young architect, Botond Bognar, author of our Architectural Guide Japan (available in an updated version in April 2025), learned Japanese in the ancient capital in the 1970s. Now he returns every year to enjoy pan-fried tofu and views from the Moon Crossing Bridge.

Text: Botond Bognar

Photo:  Fushimi Inari-taisha. The shrine sits at the base of a mountain, also named Inari. © Platongkoh | Dreamstime

Kyoto is a cosmopolitan city with outstanding works of contemporary architecture. But the city stands out first and foremost as a cradle of Japanese culture, with an exceptional mix of Buddhist temples, Shinto shrines, and traditional urban districts embedded in nature. Kyoto is a human-scale city, best discovered by walking. I visited the city for the first time as a young architect in early 1973, when I settled in a suburb of Kyoto to study Japanese before starting a two-year research fellowship at the Tokyo Institute of Technology. I still visit Japan two or three times a year and always spend time in this favourite city of mine.

Eat. Pontocho, close to the city centre, is a narrow alley, 2 metres wide and 500 metres long. It runs parallel to the Kamo river and is lined on both sides by charming old buildings, which house small, traditional restaurants, pubs, and bars. The wooden buildings along the east side of the lane look onto the river below, and large terraces are set up high over the riverbank from late spring to early autumn. Here, you can enjoy the taste of authentic Kyoto cuisine, a snack, or a refreshing drink, while taking in the panoramic views of the river and east side of Kyoto. I have fond memories of sitting on those ­terraces, often enjoying pan-fried tofu, in the late afternoons. Walk a few metres from the northern end of Pontocho, and you arrive at TIME’S (Sanjo Dori), a small, commercial building designed by Tadao Ando. It features an inviting restaurant-­cum-café, hugging the Takase stream. Its terrace often gave me the perfect respite after a busy day.

Pray. Kyoto is a treasure trove of Japan’s historic architecture. I would single out the Shisen-do Villa (27 Ichijoji Kadoguchi-cho), which was once the residence of the poet Ishikawa Jozan (1583–1672). It is now used as a Soto Zen temple and is one of the most impressive examples of seventeenth-century villas in Kyoto. Visitors should also visit the Kiyomizu-dera (294 Kiyomizu), a Buddhist temple and UNESCO World Heritage Site, situated on the slopes of the Higashiyama mountain range in the east of the city. The temple, dating back to the eighth century, sits on a massive wooden sub-structure, with a large terrace offering breath-taking views of the city.

Love. Arashiyama, a district on the western outskirts of the city, is particularly rich in nature. Its Bamboo Forest is a popular retreat among tourists and locals alike, and the Togetsukyo Bridge offers a stunning view of cherry blossoms in the spring. Also located in the district is the new Fukada Art Museum (3–16 Susukino Baba-cho), whose café overlooks a beautiful Japanese garden, with the landscape and river behind it. To enjoy Kyoto at its best, you should plan a visit for either spring or autumn. This is when the nature in and around Kyoto is most intoxicating, with the cherry blossoms in full bloom or the leaves of the Japanese maple trees turning into myriad shades of flaming reds and oranges.

BOTOND BOGNAR is the author of our Architectural Guide Japan (available in an updated version in April 2025). He is a licensed architect and internationally respected scholar of Japanese architecture and urbanism with over 20 published books. He is currently Professor and Edgar A. Tafel Endowed Chair in Architecture at the University of Illinois Urbana Champaign. He lived in Japan for many years in the 1970s and still frequently visits the country.

Nichts war geplant, alles hat sich ergeben: Ein Auto für 300 Pfund brachte ihn 1991 nach Leningrad, ein unverhoffter Anruf 20 Jahre später nach Berlin. Sein Feingefühl für unterschiedliche Sprachen hat Nicolson gewissermaßen unterwegs entwickelt.

Text: Björn Rosen

Photo: John Nicolson im Berliner Verlagshaus. Er stützt sich auf einige der Bücher, die er für DOM bearbeitet hat, darunter die Architekturführer zu Alexandria, Dhaka und Kyjiw sowie Grundlagen-Titel zur Ukraine. © Philipp Meuser

Vermutlich profitiert er bis heute von seinem klassisch britischen Bildungsweg. Aufgewachsen in zwei Dörfern im Südwesten Englands, in denen »nichts je passiert«, kam John Nicolson mit elf Jahren aufs Internat im nahen Winchester. »Wir waren in einem Gebäude aus dem 15. Jahrhundert untergebracht, zum Teil unbeheizt, aber sehr schön.« Im darauf folgenden Jahr begann der Altgriechisch-Unterricht. »Man bekam einen Text voller Wörter, die man noch nie zuvor gesehen hatte – Poesie, die obskur wirkte –,  und musste dann die Bedeutung herausfinden«, erzählt Nicolson. »Wie bei einem Kreuzworträtsel.« 

Fast 50 Jahre später macht der Brite im Grunde noch immer das Gleiche. Statt antiker Gedichte fordern ihn  nun andere obskure Texte heraus. Wie zum Beispiel überträgt man das »transluzente, PTFE-verkleidete  Leichtbausystem« ins Englische, das in Zusammenhang mit einem Projekt in China im Handbuch Aquarienbauten erwähnt wird? Und was hat es mit der »Qa’a mit vier Iwanen« auf sich, »die als Adaption des traditionellen Wohntypus von Kairo gelesen werden kann oder,  was wahrscheinlicher ist, als europäisierter Import des osmanischen Hallengrundrisses«, wie es im Architekturführer über Ägyptens Hauptstadt heißt? Seit mehr als 30 Jahren übersetzt und lektoriert Nicolson Texte über Architektur, seit rund fünf Jahren arbeitet er regelmäßig für DOM publishers.

Von John Nicolson bearbeitet:

Aquarium Buildings

Edited by Jürgen Lange and Natascha Meuser, 464 pages, 900 images, Hardcover with elastic strap, ISBN 978-3-86922-756-6, 128€.

The aim of this publication is to provide architects and their clients, zoologists and operators of large aquariums, with planning parameters and quality criteria to help them in designing a sustainable aquarium.

Zuletzt war er für das Buch Mies in His Own Words verantwortlich, das alle Schriften, Reden und Interviews des deutsch-amerikanischen Architekten versammelt. Herausgegeben von den Experten Michelangelo Sabatino aus den USA und Vittorio Pizzigoni aus Italien, richtet es sich an ein internationales Publikum: Einige deutsche Texte Mies van der Rohes übersetzte Nicolson neu und prüfte bereits vorhandene Übersetzungen – eine Herausforderung, denn jeder Formulierung des notorisch wortkargen Mies wird unter Architekturhistorikern größte Bedeutung beigemessen. »Ich musste mich zurückhalten, Formulierungen zu  stark zu glätten«, sagt Nicolson. Sein erklärtes Ziel war es, den »flavour of Mies« zu erhalten.

Nicolson spricht Russisch, außerdem Deutsch, Französisch, Spanisch und Italienisch (wenngleich er eine bescheidenere  Einschätzung abgeben würde, sollten Sie  ihn einmal danach fragen). An die Schulzeit schloss sich zunächst ein Studium von Altgriechisch, Latein und Philosophie in Oxford an. Dass Nicolson  heute ein polyglot ist, liegt an den vielen Zufällen, die darauf folgten.

Es begann 1989 damit, dass Gabriel, Mitbewohner in der Londoner WG, eine Anzeige im Guardian entdeckte: Wer könnte russische Künstler kostenlos unterbringen? Zwar wurde daraus erst einmal nichts, und Gabriel schaffte es auch nicht zur Vernissage, in die man ihn einlud. Aber John nahm den Termin wahr und begegnete dabei der Übersetzerin aus Wolgograd, die die  Künstler begleitete. Ein bleibender Eindruck: Irina wurde später Nicolsons Frau. 

Als das Paar etwas Geld zusammengespart hatte – er arbeitete  als Nachtwächter, sie als Kellnerin –, kaufte es ein Auto für 300 Pfund, um Russland zu besuchen. Dort erlebte Nicolson 1991 die letzten Wochen der Sowjetunion  – und blieb schließlich fast 20 Jahre in Leningrad, das nun wieder Sankt Petersburg hieß. Er lernte die  Sprache, vertiefte sich in russische Literatur (die Thema  seiner Doktorarbeit wurde) und nahm bald erste Aufträge  als Übersetzer an, immer häufiger aus dem Bereich  Architektur. »Einen Job im eigentlichen Sinne hatte ich nie.« Nichts war geplant, alles hat sich ergeben.

Im Jahr 2009 verschlug es die Familie nach Deutschland. Sie hatten sich nach einem Tapetenwechsel gesehnt und ein paar europäische Länder besucht. Die Aufnahmeprüfung der ältesten Tochter in Berlin war zwar schon wieder vergessen, als Monate später das Telefon in Sankt Petersburg klingelte und die Schule an den Beginn des Unterrichts (in fünf Tagen!) erinnerte, doch die Entscheidung dafür umso schneller gefällt.  Wenn John Nicolson von seiner Schöneberger Wohnung erzählt, beschreibt er den Einfall des Lichts und den  Blick durchs Fenster – essenzielle Punkte. Denn während ihn Texte nach China, Ägypten, Montréal und Kyjiw führen, sitzt er doch immer am selben Schreibtisch.

Piet Nieder, lecturer at the TU Berlin,  has a long-lasting admiration for the East African country: from his first visit as a student to two years as a university lecturer right through to the research for his doctoral thesis that has now resulted in his book, The Addis Ababa House.

Text: Damien Leaf

Photo: Nieder with architect and photographer Henock Ashagre (left) and Tadesse Girmay, conservationist and researcher at EiABC. © Piet Nieder

When Piet Nieder co-organised a symposium at the Goethe Institute in the Ethiopian capital in March, it was the culmination of several years of work on the cultural heritage of Addis Ababa. The German first came to the country in 2005 as an architecture student and tourist. His interest was piqued. ‘I believe that architecture is particularly relevant in a developing country like Ethiopia, where it can still be a social game changer,’ says the 43-year-old.

In 2012, Nieder moved to Addis Ababa as a lecturer at the local institute for Architecture (EiABC). As part of his doctoral thesis, he became aware of the typology at the centre of his recently published book. The Addis Ababa House introduces a very specific form of architecture that emerged in the Ethiopian capital after its foundation in 1886: pavilion-like buildings, made of stone, earth, and wood, characterised by expressive pinched roofs, generous verandas, and a high degree of detailing. ‘At that time, two things came together that are reflected in the building’s design: an indigenous city foundation and a new cosmopolitan spirit, because people from all over the world moved to Addis Ababa after Ethiopia was internationally recognised as a sovereign African state.’

Nieder conducted interviews on the ground, but he was particularly impressed by the amount of material that reached him online from Addis Ababa after an appeal via social media. ‘I see it as an obligation to make my findings accessible in Ethiopia, as well.’ This, he hopes, can also help to preserve the unique heritage. Of the 170 buildings in the style recorded in a database, many have already been destroyed.

Jakub Gołębiewski ist Ko-Autor unseres gerade erschienenen  Architekturführers Stettin. Die Stadt an der Oder ist für ihn Heimat – und Tor zur Welt. Hier nimmt uns der polnische Architekt mit auf eine Tour, die im Hafen startet und am Strand endet. Ahoi!

Text: Jakub Gołębiewski

Foto: Stettiner Philharmonie (Estudio Barozzi Veiga,  2015), © Harald Gatermann

Stettin ist ein Ort, an dem der Begriff »Europa« keine leere Worthülse ist. Das liegt nicht nur an seiner Geschichte als Teil der Hanse und historische Hauptstadt ­Pommerns: ­Stettiner fahren ins nahe ­Berlin zu Konzerten und DJs aus der deutschen Hauptstadt kommen zu uns. Ich bin in den Neunzigerjahren in ­Szczecin, so der polnische Name, groß geworden und habe erlebt, wie der Austausch über die Grenze hinweg immer intensiver wurde. Mit seinem Hafen – während der kommunistischen Zeit galt unsere Werft als einer der wichtigsten Orte des Widerstands der Solidarność – war ­Stettin aber schon immer der Welt zugewandt.

Achterleine los. Um zu erleben, wie untrennbar die Stadt mit dem Wasser verbunden ist, empfehle ich eine Rundfahrt durch Hafen und Werft zum Dąbie-See – mit Halt am Wrack eines einzigartigen Schiffs aus Beton. Wer es aktiver mag, kann zu einer Kajaktour ins Untere Odertal starten. Und natürlich gibt es viele gute Fischrestaurants, zum Beispiel Chief by The Kitchen (Zbożowa, Nabrzeże Celne), Zakotwiczony (Monte Cassino 1/9) und Paprykarz (Aleja Papieża Jana Pawła II 42). Letzteres ist nach einer lokalen Spezialität benannt: dem Paprykarz szczeciński, bestehend aus Fisch (rund 40 % des Gerichts), Reis, Zwiebeln, Tomatenmark und Gewürzen.

Segel setzen. Um beim Sightseeing munter zu bleiben, geht nichts über eines der vielen Stettiner Cafés. Ich mag etwa das Mozaika (Śląska 43/U1), in dem man auch ­Keramik aus der Region kaufen kann, und das Przystań na Kawę (Gen. Ludomiła Rayskiego 19). Unverzichtbar: ein Blick von der Aussichtsplattform der Jakobskathedrale (Świętego Jakuba Apostoła 1). Geheimtipps dagegen: der Atombunker am Hauptbahnhof und ein Bungee-Sprung vom 252 Meter hohen Schornstein der ehemaligen Wiskord-Fabrik (nicht, dass ich den Mut dazu hätte).

Klar zum Ankern. Am Ende des Tages unbedingt in die beeindruckende neue  Philharmonie (Małopolska 48), freitags gibt es dort in der Regel klassische Konzerte. Und danach vielleicht in die Brauereien Pod Zamkiem (Panieńska 12) oder Wyszak (Księcia Mściwoja II 8), die sich in mittelalterlichen Kellern befinden. Als Absacker empfiehlt sich der köstliche Birnenlikör (Gruszkówka) in der Bar Towarzyska (Księcia Bogusława X 50). Im Sommer verlagert sich das Nachtleben auf die Boulevards an der Oder und an der Wyspa Grodzka, wo es einen Stadtstrand mit herrlichem Blick auf den Wały-Chrobrego-Damm gibt.

JAKUB GOŁĘBIEWSKI, Jahrgang 1985, ist ­Assistenzprofessor an der Westpommerschen Technischen Universität (ZUT) in Stettin und Ko-Autor unseres neuen Architekturführers über die Stadt. Foto: privat

The Saudi capital represents a model of the new wave of modernity. The city has shifted dramatically from a traditional era, to a modern era, to a now a hyper-modernity era focusing on giga-projects. The visitor of the city can conceive the local features that distinguish Riyadh architecture from other cities on the regions.

Text: Fahad Alotaibi

Photo: The city skyline at night. © Mohamed Hussain Younis (iStock)

The city of Riyadh is a model of the new wave of modernity. The city shifted dramatically from a traditional to a modern era and is now progressing into a hyper-modern era focused on giga-projects. The early 1950s saw city stakeholders begin to modernise the city with the aid of both Arab and foreign architects.    

King Salman was the Governor of Riyadh during the modern era, and his clear vision and thoughtful direction resulted in the city building a unique image through architecture – one that represented the locality of the place. We can trace this creative administration in the Architecture & Design Commission’s latest publication: King Salman Charter for Architecture & Urbanism. This essay will touch on the main drivers for excellence in architecture and urbanism in the city over the past 70 years.

The modern history of Riyadh goes back to the sixteenth century when the town of Muqrin was the most important territory and shaped the city’s early urban fabric. The areas of Muqrin and Ma’kal began to merge from the beginning of the seventeenth century and became what is now Riyadh. The city gained importance in 1740 when Turki bin Abdullah Al-Saud, founder of the Second Saudi State, moved the capital from Diriyah to Riyadh. This decision is seen by many as the beginning of Riyadh as a place of importance (Al-Naim, 2013; Saleh, 1998). Yet the city’s urban form did not undergo any significant changes under his rule (Al-Naim, 2013). When King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud regained the city in 1902, Riyadh soon began to spread beyond its traditional territory (estimated to be approximately 9  km² in 1917–1918). Alangari (1997) describes the city’s fabric as originating from the Grand Mosque, the Great Souq, and the Royal Palace, all of which were surrounded by an elaborate defensive wall that was constructed out of mud and incorporated nine major gates. As a traditional settlement, Riyadh possessed the same characteristics as other Arab cities, namely, a compact urban fabric, narrow alleyways, and buildings made from local materials. It was not until King Abdulaziz decided in the middle of the twentieth century to build his new palace and administrative building outside the walled city and expand the city’s territory beyond its walls that a new phase of the city began to take shape (Al-Hathloul, 2017).    

Hamad Al Jassir, a prominent Saudi journalist and historian, asserted that it was in 1952 when the King established the first municipality and appointed Prince Fahad bin Farhan to be the first mayor of Riyadh that the city moved on from its past. At that time, Riyadh evolved from being a traditional city that used local materials and limited techniques into a new city that embraced advanced technologies and welcomed new building typologies such as offices, shops, airports, universities, and hotels.

Riyadh old city souk and grand mosque. © Royal Commission for Riyadh City

The Modern Phase of Riyadh’s Urban Development. The first phase of modernity came with two key projects. The first was the urban planning of the Al Malaz neighbourhood, while the second was the work of the prominent Egyptian architect Sayed Karim, who was commissioned to design the main ministry buildings in Riyadh. At that time, these two projects represented a turning point in the city’s history and transformed the entire system of traditional ideas that had dominated the practice of architecture in terms of appearance, tools, and thinking. Al Malaz is a great example of the modernisation of the city, with the grid system that was planned there forever changing the fabric of the city. Both projects played a vital role in shaping the modernity of the city. Many scholars believe that from a planning perspective, the use of a new housing configuration in Al Malaz created a new image of the modern city and had a significant impact on citizens’ perception of how they should progress.    

Riyadh witnessed another phase of development in the 1960s when city officials realised the need to further modernise the city. Constantinos Apostolou Doxiadis was commissioned to create the first master plan for Riyadh in 1969 on the basis of his work in Baghdad in 1959, his famous design of Islamabad in 1960, and his work in many other cities in the developing world, as well as his extensive experience in urban master planning in developing countries and the encouragement of a US diplomat. He developed his master plan based on one key notion in particular: The residential area must have a block with a sense of community to encourage social cohesion. In his letter to King Faisal, Doxiadis wrote: ‘[W]e have been happy to find out that the overall topography has allowed us to direct the main streets toward Mecca’ (Ménoret, 2014, p. 98).

The Saudi House and the Modern Transformation. Urbanisation and modernisation as a whole caused unprecedented levels of transformation in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia in a short period of time, often in a single decade or less. To gain a deeper understanding of these dramatic changes, specifically in Saudi housing, it is necessary to go back in time to these earlier stages. The transformations in Saudi housing are similar to the changes that accompanied the housing transformation in the Arabian Gulf region (Alasanfi, 2001; Al-Ajmi, 2009; Al-Mohannadi and Furlan, 2022).    

The major transformations that changed the Gulf countries at the time of the discovery of oil and the resulting new economic patterns contributed to a change in the structure of Gulf societies. The expansion of cities resulted in population growth and the need for labour, contributing to the crystallisation of the modern Gulf state (Al-Rumaihi, 1995).

Consequently, we find that most research into the history and urban development of the region (Adham, 2009; Elsheshtawy, 2008) divides this regional urban development into four basic stages: the pre-oil stage (traditional urbanism), the modernisation stage, the recession stage, and finally, the major projects stage.

Ministry Buildings designed by Sayed Karim, 1950s. ©  King Fahad Library

The structure of Saudi dwellings was most significantly changed by the modernist experience. These modern features are defined by the shift from a poetic and habitable traditional dwelling to a new and radical experience in terms of the spatial configuration of the dwelling, the quality of materials used, and the orientation from an introvert approach to an extrovert approach. The Saudi dwelling has transformed into a new style, reflecting a different lifestyle. Researcher Akpinar (1992) stated that these transformations changed the form of the spontaneous traditional Saudi dwelling as a result of accelerated development and time-frame requirements and contributed significantly to the erosion of many traditional customs, values, and cultural patterns Dr. Fadan (1983) noted in his key study on the development of Saudi housing that changes in the modernisation process in different countries often took decades, but the rapid modernisation phase that took place in terms of the architecture of the Saudi dwelling happened in no more than ten years, and it may have contributed to the arrival of a new villa style in Saudi society. The Aramco housing project in Dhahran introduced the American villa style to the region and attempted to cultivate it in Saudi society without any introduction, contributing to the accelerated adoption of the modern villa in Saudi society. This is what we observed in Saudi workers’ accommodation in Aramco at the time, where the pattern of the American workers’ housing complex appeared to influence the adoption of the use of modern materials, with the Saudi workers adapting them to their own needs.    

The impact of the emergence of the modern villa pattern in Aramco and the changes it led to in the structure of Saudi housing can be considered significant in most Saudi cities, especially Riyadh. However, there have been many changes in Saudi housing as a result of economic, social, and population variables. Many different patterns of housing have emerged, notably separate modern villas, apartment buildings, and palace apartments. As the modernisation period continued, others have focused on borrowing a mostly new housing form and model (the single-family house) without returning to the authentic form of the house – which met the needs of the extended family – and without developing the internal spaces or the architectural language used. A wave of criticism has emerged asserting that these new architectural styles are not based on the authenticity of past regional styles and that modern architects have not understood the real needs of the population both in terms of identity and the environmental performance of housing, but rather relied heavily on a new pattern of adaptation that eliminated the idea of the sustainability of the buildings and their relevance to the region’s climate.    

During this period, Caesar Taleb (1984) wrote an analytical study of the development of the then Saudi dwelling in all regions of the Kingdom, criticising this period’s direction of fully embracing the modern model without continuity or inspiration from elements of the past and recalling in this context ‘the apparent influence of Western architecture in Gulf cities, and false identity without any association with tradition’.

The Role of Foreign Architects in Shaping the City’s Modernity. Seeking to connect the ideas of modernity with the identity of the place, numerous foreign architects working in Riyadh took their inspiration from local architecture and the identity of the place and tried to tie the architecture of today with the past and thereby create a ‘sense of historical continuum’ (Pallasmaa, 2012). These endeavours have resulted in Riyadh becoming a stage for the experimental work of renowned international architects including Minoru Yamasaki, Arthur Erickson, and Trevor Dannatt, among others, as well as large international firms such as HOK and SOM. However, their contribution to Riyadh’s architectural landscape has not yet been critically examined.    

Although there has been succinct criticism that globalisation has brought about a uniform regime of sameness, academics have noted that there have been regional variations in late modern architecture, which have been categorised as ‘Global South’, ‘Eastern’, ‘Third World’, and, more broadly, ‘Other’ modernisms (Stanek, 2015). In this regard, we could view the foreign architecture in Riyadh as work that deserves to be considered through a local lens rather than as a mirror of global architecture. How does a globally prominent architect like Arthur Erickson see the locality of the place in the East, and to what extent can the architect’s modernity add another layer of identity to the place? Erickson was known for emphasising the importance of acutely interpreting the language of a place and adding his own version to emphasise the building’s locality. As he embarked on this project, it was possible to observe how he interpreted the East and adapted his modern vocabulary to the region. To this end, one of his unbuilt projects deserves to be highlighted here: the Saudi Arabian National Centre for Science and Technology in Riyadh. Here, Erickson attempted to abstract the Najdi triangle and functionalise it in a way that connected the project to its spatial context. Erickson also set out to explore the concepts of local architecture and extrapolate the future.    

In addition, by reusing the open courtyard and building interiors as much as possible and taking into consideration the natural factors of the place by reducing the number of openings, this in itself was considered a success at a time when modernist ideologies were prevailing, leading to a duplicate model that did not take into account the natural determinants of the location.

Saudi Arabian National Center for Science and Technology, 1981. © Erickson

Renowned architect Minoru Yamasaki also contributed to Riyadh architecture. He became known across the world when he was commissioned to design the World Trade Centre in New York City, and his work in Riyadh is considered late modernism that embraces modernity without neglecting the culture and architecture of the place. Saudi Arabia’s Central Bank represents an unusual attempt by a foreign architect to reflect the identity of the place. This building was designed in a closed, inward manner because of the nature and sensitivity of the project. The interior courtyard resembles an oasis in the middle of the desert. Although the exterior is rather reserved, the interior was structured around a six-storey atrium-style, air-conditioned courtyard ‘filled with softer, more diffused daylight provided by a system of indirect skylights’ and it is ‘further enhanced by a reflecting pool and landscaping to provide an enjoyable focus for the office areas’ housed within, which open directly onto the atrium space (Kiely, 2016).

King Salman Park. Photo: Promo

In the years since the launch of Vision 2030, the Kingdom has witnessed a huge transformation from modernity to hyper-modernity and a phase of new architecture and urbanism that emphasises the future and innovation. There is no doubt that these projects will have a profound impact on the future of architecture and design in Saudi Arabia and beyond. Indeed, it goes beyond this to set a new standard for architecture in the world. The list of futuristic projects that aim to address the challenges that face humanity in the future are great examples that represent the attitude of architecture in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. King Salman Park, Sports Boulevard, and Diriyah Gate, among others, represent the architecture of the Riyadh of the future – architecture and design that respect the local culture, satisfy the social needs of residents, reduce environmental impact, and embrace sustainability. 

FAHAD ALOTAIBI, Ph.D. architect, educator, and senior advisor at the Architecture & Design Commission Ministry of Culture. He studied at King Saud University (BSc Architecture and Building Science) and the University of Sheffield (MArch Architectural Studies) and holds a Ph.D. in Environmental Design/ Architecture from the University of Calgary, Canada. Having previously worked in Riyadh municipality, Umran magazine (an editor), and King Saud University (Architectural Researcher), Alotaibi was a former chair of the architecture department at the College of Architecture and Design at Qassim University. He is currently working on an architectural guide to Riyadh.