Africa's libraries are too few and badly underfunded. Larry Ajuwon, co-founder of Afrelib Trust, plans a community hub in Lagos that combines books with maker spaces, IT facilities and room for events, echoing the town square that has always been central to African communal life. The hub is meant to be a blueprint for the whole continent.

Interview: Damien Leaf

Photo: Larry Ajuwon; © Ajuwon

Mr. Ajuwon, Afrelib aims to strengthen libraries across Africa. What does the library landscape look like today?

There are two problems: not enough libraries and the ones that exist are severely under-resourced. If you look at the numbers – libraries per capita – the gap compared to Western and global averages is enormous. Academic libraries attached to schools and universities are functional to a degree, but even there you find outdated collec-tions and limited services. Public libraries are in a far worse state: underfunded and largely stuck in an outdated model. The building is there, the books are minimal, and there is very little else on offer.

Are there regional differences? 

Yes, clearly. North Africa is generally better resourced than sub-Saharan Africa. Within sub-Saharan Africa, South Africa, Ghana, and Kenya stand out in terms of library infrastructure and availability. Nigeria has strong academic libraries, which makes sense given its population and the number of universities, but on public libraries it lags behind a smaller country like Ghana. And then there is Rwanda, which I think is a genuinely standout case across the board: education, health, infrastructure. Their library facilities reflect that broader commitment.

Your initiative is called Afrelib Trust. What is the core idea?

At its heart, Afrelib is about learning, literacy, and ensuring that communities have the tools they need to thrive. But the specific vehicle we are building is not a traditional library in the conventional sense – it is a community hub where a library is one component among several. You have a space for books and materials, but also maker spaces, IT facilities, a room for symposia or events. The model has to work for a professional who needs to research something, but also for a schoolchild who just wants a quiet place to read, and for a community group that wants to hold a meeting. All of that under one roof. 

What triggered the whole project?

My father was a civil engineer who ran his own company, building national housing projects for the federal ministry. I visited construction sites with him, and at one point he genuinely wanted me to become an architect. I was effectively his sounding board when the family was designing our house in our home town. That interest never fully left me. My mother was an educator and primary school headteacher. The Afrelib project is their legacy, and they were its founding benefactors. And then libraries: growing up in Lagos, the library was a place of escape. It was quiet, it was calm, it was a completely different world from the street outside, and I could tell my parents I was going to study and they would not ask questions. That combination – architecture and the library as a space – eventually came together in this project. The immediate trigger was more practical. When tablets became widely available in the early 2010s, my brother, Joseph, and I thought: we can load these with books and educational content and give them to schools in Lagos. So we did. Teachers loved the idea and started building video lessons in a Khan Academy style. But scaling it was difficult because we could not secure funding. To continue supporting teachers and students, we created an academy to provide training for schools, then e-learning programmes and robotics challenges. At the back of all that was our original vision of building a physical space: a permanent, open, well-designed location that anyone could walk into.

The European library model has shifted significantly over the past decade or two: away from book storage towards community spaces, with events, music, coworking, and social gatherings. Is that relevant to what you are designing?

AIt is not just relevant – it is exactly the model we have in mind. And here is the interesting thing: that shift in Europe is being celebrated as an innovation, but it is actually a return to something that has always been central to African communal life. The town square, the space where everything happens – sharing information, storytelling, music, socialising – that is not new in Africa. What we want to do is design a space that reflects how communities actually function. Some submissions to our current design challenge have already picked up on this: people are saying the space should be free to enter, that it should be open to anyone regardless of whether they are there for books or for something else. I think that is exactly right. 

You have also been working on a sustainable library design guide for Africa. What are the key requirements that keep coming up?

When we developed the guide, we organised it around six themes: building features, energy, water and drainage, economic sustainability, waste management, and librarian training. What we are seeing in responses to our current design challenge is that energy is the dominant concern – specifically, how to power these buildings, and almost universally that means integrating solar. The second major theme is climate adaptation: libraries in much of sub-Saharan Africa are simply not designed for local conditions. They get unbearably hot, there is no natural ventilation, no greenery. People are proposing solutions like incorporating plants and trees into the building fabric itself. And the third thread is the librarian – not just as a custodian of books, but as a trained community resource who can support professional development and sustainability education. That role needs to be redesigned from the ground up.

Visualisation of the central reading hall of the planned Afrelib Library  in Lagos, Nigeria: The sustainable  community hub is designed to bring together books, digital  learning, workspaces, and events under one roof – as a model for  future libraries across Africa. © Ajuwon/Afrelib

Afrelib Trust is registered as a social enterprise. How do you think about financial sustainability – for the Lagos library specifically, but also as a model that could be replicated?

That was my brother’s absolute insistence from the start: if it is not financially self-sustaining, it will not survive. One-off grants are useful, but they are not a business model. The idea is that certain services within the facility generate revenue that cross-subsidises the free or low-cost elements. Whether it is paid training, event hire, or maker space subscriptions is something we are still working through. But the principle is non-negotiable. We want this first library / innovation hub in Lagos to be a working proof of concept that others can copy. The vision is that it functions as a template: you take the model, adapt it to your context, and build it elsewhere. A network of these spaces across the continent. That only works if the model is genuinely replicable, which means it has to be financially viable from day one.

Where does the project stand right now, and what comes next?

The e-learning and training side of Afrelib has been quiet for the past couple of years; Covid disrupted the funding and activities. The Afrelib library development project is in the design and planning phase. We have secured the land, and we have been doing all the groundwork, including consulting with library professionals, educators, sustainability experts, and architects, participating in university lectures, organising webinars, and developing an African sustainable library guide in collaboration with AFLIA – the Association for Library and Information Associations on the African continent – to make sure we are incorporating the actual voice of African librarians into the design. I am supported by volunteers, friends, family, and a core team – Ms. Oreoluwa Adekunle, Mr. Jide Ayoola, and Dr. Ayodele Alonge – whose contribution has been immense. And now the Afrelib Challenge 2026, a two-stage open innovation competition inviting Africa-based teams to reimagine what a sustainable library and innovation hub could look like. Stage one closed in May with seven submissions, six of them strong. Five teams made the shortlist and have developed their proposals for the second stage. Our next priority is to recognise the teams, support the prizes, and give the finalist work wider visibility – possibly through a showcase in Amsterdam.

What kind of partners or support are you looking for?

Several things. Knowledge: people working in architecture, sustainability, and library science who can improve the design we already have and stress-test its viability. Funding, financial support and advice – specifically on how to structure the self-financing model so it actually works and so other libraries can replicate it. And technical partners who understand construction in the Nigerian and African context. Our ambition is not just one building. It is also to develop a viable blueprint that can be replicated across the continent.

LARRY AJUWON grew up in Lagos, studied chemistry, and has spent the past three decades in Europe – first in the UK, now in the Netherlands, where he works in pharmaceutical biotech research. In his spare time, he runs Afrelib Trust, a UK-registered social enterprise that he co-founded with his brother, Joseph, to advance education, literacy, and sustainable library infrastructure in Nigeria and across sub-Saharan Africa. The initiative's flagship project is a purpose-built community library and innovation hub in Lagos, currently in the design phase, with construction planned to begin later this year. Its design is being shaped by the Afrelib Challenge 2026, an open competition for Africa-based teams: five teams have been shortlisted and are completing their final submissions, and a showcase of the finalist projects in Amsterdam is under consideration.

Der britische Architekturhistoriker und Journalist ist der erste Gewinner des Luxemburger Preises für Architekturkritik. Initiiert wurde die Auszeichnung, die künftig regelmäßig vergeben werden soll, von DOM publishers und der Architekten- und Ingenieurkammer Luxemburg (OAI).

Photo: Tom Ravenscroft (zweiter von links) bei der Preisverleihung am 29. April 2026 in Luxemburg. Mit dabei: Pierre Hurt (OAI-Direktor), Michelle Friederici (OAI-Präsidentin) und Patrick Nosbusch (OAI-Vizepräsident).  © DOM publishers

Im ersten Jahrgang des Preises waren zehn Kritikerinnen und Kritiker aus neun europäischen Ländern nominiert, darunter zwei Deutsche. Der OAI hatte sie nach Luxemburg eingeladen, wo sie jeweils zwei zeitgenössische Bauten besichtigen sowie mit Architekten, Bauherren und Nutzern ins Gespräch kommen konnten. Die Texte, die daraus entstanden, wurden in der dreisprachigen Buchpublikation Architecture deLUX (Englisch, Französisch, Deutsch) veröffentlicht und auch online zugänglich gemacht.

Der Preis zeichnet sich zum einen durch diese paneuropäische Perspektive aus, zum anderen dadurch, dass am Ende die Leser das Wort hatten: Sie konnten per Postkarte oder online für den aus ihrer Sicht besten Text votieren. Mehrere hundert Leserinnen und Leser aus ganz Europa nahmen teil. Tom Ravenscroft, Redakteur beim Magazin Dezeen in London, erhielt mit seinen zwei Beiträgen – über den Floater Dudelange und den ­Water Tower ­Altrier – die meisten Stimmen. Sein Text über den Wasserturm, entworfen vom Architekturbüro BFF und dem Ingenieur­büro DAEDALUS ­ENGINEERING, war der klare Favorit des Publikums.

Tom Ravenscroft mit Philipp Meuser, Verleger von DOM publishers, bei der feierlichen Preisverleihung. © DOM publishers

Die Auszeichnung würdigt sowohl die Qualität des prämierten Textes als auch die Bedeutung einer unabhängigen Architekturkritik für die Baukultur. »Architekturkritik ist ein wesentlicher Bestandteil der Baukultur. Sie schafft Orientierung, fördert den Diskurs und trägt zur Qualität unseres gebauten Umfelds bei«, erklärt Pierre Hurt, Direktor des OAI. »Mit diesem Preis möchten wir externe Perspektiven sichtbar machen und den Dialog zwischen Fachleuten, Bauherren und Öffentlichkeit stärken.« Philipp Meuser, Verleger von DOM publishers: »Die Welt der Architektur ist eine internationale, doch der Austausch über Baukultur endet oft an Landes- und Sprachgrenzen. Architecture deLUX ist ein Beitrag zum grenzüberschreitenden Dialog.«

Pressemitteilung: klick.

Das Buch zum Thema: In Architecture deLUX besprechen zehn Kritiker aus unterschiedlichen Ländern Europas 20 herausragende Architekturen in Luxemburg. Ihre Texte eröffnen neue Perspektiven auf die zeitgenössische Baukunst im Großherzogtum.

As Ukraine enters its fifth year of war, Russian attacks are devastating the country's architectural heritage — but activists are fighting back to preserve it. Because what is at stake is not just brick and mortar, but the living memory and identity of a people.

Text: Björn Rosen

Photo: Kharkiv-based architect Viktor Dvornikov in his work­shop, where he keeps collected pieces of damaged or destroyed buildings. © DOM publishers

When a rocket strikes a building in the Eastern Ukrainian city of Kharkiv, Viktor Dvornikov has perhaps an hour to act. The conservation architect leads the city’s Heritage Emergency Response Initiative, racing against both time and well-meaning clean-up crews.

Located just 30 kilometres from the Russian border, Kharkiv has become one of Ukraine’s most battered cities. During the war’s first year alone, 500 buildings were destroyed, with another 5,000 damaged. It is therefore no surprise when Dvornikov’s WhatsApp buzzes with notifications from emergency services. Sometimes he arrives within 40 minutes of an attack – as he did when the iconic Derzhprom building was hit. His mission: salvage architectural fragments before city workers, eager to restore normalcy, sweep everything into trucks. Historic columns, plaster mouldings, century-old wooden beams – elements that took decades to craft can disappear in minutes if he doesn’t intervene.

The iconic Derzphrom building and a destroyed house in Kharkiv. © DOM publishers

The architect works with a dedicated group that quickly visits strike scenes and prevents authentic materials from being discarded. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion began, they have documented over 300 damaged cultural heritage sites. Dvornikov stores rescued pieces in his office, marks off danger zones with striped tape, and negotiates with mayors he’s never met. Collaborating with partners such as the Washington-based NGO Pact or the Ukrainian initiative Hemolab, Dvornikov’s work preserves more than bricks and mortar – it safeguards Kharkiv’s soul amid relentless destruction.

Kharkiv: From Constructivist Masterpiece to Wartime Resilience. A richly illustrated architectural guide tracing Kharkiv's golden age of Modernism — and a powerful act of remembrance as Russian bombs reshape the city's skyline.

Industrial Style, Gurken-Skulpturen und Einkehr auf dem Campingplatz: Gabi Freischlager und Stefan Netsch, Autoren des Architekturführers Salzburg, zeigen Österreichs viertgrößte Stadt jenseits des Barock.

Text: Gabi Freischlager, Stefan Netsch

Foto: Blick auf Salzburg im Winter, © iStock/DaveLongMedia

Salzburg ist auf der Landkarte der Gegenwartsarchitektur ein blinder Fleck. Es gibt natürlich Barock, die UNESCO-geschützte Altstadt, aber ansonsten eine eher träge Entwicklung; meist setzen sich die Bewahrer gegen die Reformer durch – was freilich den Vorteil hat, dass hier Bausünden wie in anderen Städten vermieden wurden. Wie sind beide von anderswo hierhergekommen – Gabi aus dem nahen Oberösterreich schon fürs Studium von Kunstgeschichte und Kommunikationswissenschaft, Stefan aus Deutschland für seine heutige Stelle an der Fachhochschule – und möchten mit unserem Buch ein anderes, das moderne Salzburg zeigen.

Kaffee und Bier. Mit einem ausgezeichneten Kaffee kann man im 220Grad in den Tag starten, am besten in der Filiale im Nonntal (Nonntaler Hauptstraße 9A), die auch architektonisch sehenswert ist: richtig toller industrial style. Studio Riebenbauer haben die ehemalige Motorenwerkstätte gekonnt so umgestaltet, dass der Geist des Orts erhalten blieb. Und danach auf den traditionsreichen Grünmarkt, der am Samstag ein beliebter Treffpunkt ist. Ein Tipp für den Nachmittag ist der Biergarten von Augustinerbräu-Kloster Mülln (Lindhofstraße 7), seine Jause – einen kleinen Snack – darf man sich hier selbstverständlich mitbringen.

Rad und Camper. Die Salzburger lieben es, mit dem Rad ins Umland zu fahren; wir empfehlen die etwa 16 Kilometer lange Route entlang der Salzach Richtung Süden: zunächst zum Schloss Hellbrunn (Fürstenweg 37) und weiter bis ins Städtchen Hallein. Vielleicht machen Sie auf dem Rückweg auch noch einen Abstecher auf den Campingplatz Schloss Aigen. Hier gibt’s einen tollen Blick auf die Festung und leckeres Brathendl im urigen Büfett.

Kunst und Drinks. Salzburg hat viele tolle Galerien, etwa die von Sophia Vonier (Franz-Josef-Straße 5) oder von Thaddaeus Ropac (Villa Kast: Mirabellplatz 2, Halle: Vilniusstraße 13), der Klassiker wie Joseph Beuys und Anselm Kiefer zeigt. Immer wieder für Aufreger hat der Walk of Modern Art gesorgt, für den die Salzburg Foundation gezielt zeitgenössische Künstler einlud. Seit 2011 stehen fünf überdimensionale »Gurken« des Österreichers Erwin Wurm im Furtwänglerpark – gleich neben der altehrwürdigen Kollegienkirche. Das clasht! Zumal sich dort auch noch eine Friedrich-Schiller-Statue aus dem 19. Jahrhundert befindet: Ihr dunkles Grün und das der Gurken haben sich inzwischen schon angeglichen. Wer abends ausgehen mag: Im Antiquariat Weinek gibt’s vergriffene Bücher und intime Konzerte (Steingasse 14). Gleich um die
Ecke befindet sich die Steinterrasse (Gisela­kai 3–5) mit ihrer Rooftopbar, wo man
bei einem Limoncello Spritz den Ausblick genießen kann.

GABI FREISCHLAGER führt mit ihrer Firma Monumentours Architektur­interessierte durch Salzburg.

STEFAN NETSCH ist Studiengangsleiter am Studiengang Smart City der FH Salzburg.

Architectural education unfolds its greatest analytical power where political discourse is most constrained. In Tashkent, the Mosaic Modernism workshop brought together academics from Portugal, Ukraine, and Uzbekistan to re-examine the monumental art of the Soviet era through the lens of decolonisation. In an environment marked by ideological tension, architecture became a language of resistance – continuing DOM’s tradition of linking research, teaching, and cultural critique. 

Text: Ana Neiva and Philipp Meuser

Photo: Participants in the workshop in Tashkent. © DOM publishers

Held in Tashkent in October 2025, Mosaic Modernism became a point of genuine intercultural exchange between three architectural traditions that rarely enter into direct dialogue. Students and lecturers from Uzbekistan, Ukraine, and Portugal spent a week probing the political legibility of modernist architecture, combining academic debate with on-site investigation. What emerged was a striking divergence in how the built legacy of the twentieth century is interpreted across cultural contexts.

At the centre of the workshop lay the question of how monumental art and mosaic architecture from the Soviet and post-Soviet periods can be reinterpreted today. In Ukraine, decolonisation has become an existential project: rebuilding is synonymous with cultural self-assertion in the face of Russia’s neo-imperial aggression. Uzbekistan, by contrast, still negotiates its Soviet past through state-curated narratives. Critical engagement with the colonial dimension of Soviet architecture is only beginning to take shape. Against this background, the shift among students of the Tashkent University of Architecture and Construction — who began to view familiar mosaics and façades through a newly politicised lens — was far more than remarkable.

A decisive impulse came from the Portuguese participants. Their research on monumental art in Portugal’s former colonies introduced a postcolonial and postfascist lens into the Central Asian context. Coming from a country marked by the long afterlife of the Estado Novo dictatorship, they articulated with precision how propaganda, power and aesthetics intersect in architectural surfaces. For the Ukrainian group, this perspective resonated deeply: the parallels between Europe’s postfascist heritage and Ukraine’s confrontation with Russia’s neo-fascist and neo-colonial war of aggression were unmistakable. This triangulation – Portuguese postfascist experience, Ukrainian decolonial urgency, and Uzbek ambivalence – turned Mosaic Modernism into an intellectual laboratory.

The Jarsky brothers’ construction technique for Tashkent’s first towering façade mosaic was explained in detail by Rustam Khusanov. Last year, the Uzbek government placed more than 150 façades under special protection. © Ana Neiva

Excursions through Tashkent, guided by independent architects and researchers such as Rustam Khusanov and Alexander Fedorov, led the group into neighbourhoods like Chilonzar, rebuilt after the 1966 earthquake, or Vodnik, an open-air museum of some of the most colorful examples of Soviet façade design. Amid prefabricated housing blocks and the mosaics of Soviet modernism, the participants witnessed how deeply Central Asia’s visual culture remains entangled with political narratives. These mosaics have never been mere ornament: they functioned as ideological media, communicating progress, labour, and collective identity. Today, their reception oscillates between nostalgia, rejection and critical re-reading – a reflection of the broader struggle to position this heritage within evolving national identities.

Central Asia is a region where such debates are only just beginning to take root. Comparable debates unfold more openly in Kazakhstan, especially in Almaty, where questions of cultural emancipation from Russia have become part of public discourse. This was palpable during DOM’s recent launch of Edda Schlager’s Architectural Guide Almaty at the Tselinnyi Tsentr.  

In Uzbekistan, such reflection still remains largely confined to academic or artistic circles. Against this backdrop, Mosaic Modernism offered an essential impetus – not to produce final judgments, but to encourage reading the city as a palimpsest of ideology, power and transformation. In this sense, architectural history becomes a political instrument. To analyse façades is to analyse memory, belonging and dependency. The study of modernist monumental art reveals that decolonisation is not achieved through demolition but through understanding: through the capacity to decode how cities narrate power. Tashkent, with its layered history of Soviet planning, Islamic building traditions and contemporary reconstruction initiatives, provides fertile ground for such inquiry.

Mosaic Modernism – Portugal was represented by the Faculty of Architecture of the University of Porto (FAUP), while Ukraine was represented by O.M. Beketov University for Urban Economy (Kharkiv) – stands for a new generation of academic formats that approach architecture not simply as a chronology of styles, but as a medium through which societies negotiate their place in the world. The masterclass demonstrated that international collaboration becomes productive precisely when it disrupts established narratives — not through didactic transfer, but through mutual irritation. In this shared act of questioning the self-evident lies the genuine potential of architectural education today. In 2026, a publication in the Basics series is scheduled to appear, placing the content of these debates in a broader context.’

In this interview, Pierre Hurt, director of the ­Luxembourg Order of Architects, talks about the international character of his country, excellence in architectural criticism, and Architecture deLUX, the joint project with DOM publishers.

Interview: Damien Leaf

Photo: Book launch in Luxembourg in May 2025. Pierre Hurt (far left) with Yuriko Backes (Minister for Mobility and Public Works; Defense; and Gender Equality and Diversity), Michelle Friederici (President of the OAI), Léon Gloden (Minister for Home Affairs), and Patrick Nosbusch (Vice-President of the OAI). © Yann Wirthor

Mr. Hurt, Luxembourg is located in the heart of Europe. Is this also reflected in its architecture?

Luxembourgers are not only fluent in German and French, but also feel at home in both the Romance and Germanic cultures. Luxembourg is a multicultural society: of the 675,000 inhabitants, only 50 per cent have Luxembourg nationality. You can maybe see it in the architectural style. What distinguishes our architects and engineers is a high degree of internationalisation and a cosmopolitan outlook: All Luxembourg architects have studied abroad, and many foreigners, both expats and commuters, work in the firms. Luxembourg is the only country where cross-border architecture and engineering is already a reality in Europe: A quarter of architects working in Luxembourg come from neighbouring countries.

A lot of building work has been done in Luxembourg in recent times.

Yes, if only because of Luxembourg’s rise as a financial centre and the European institutions that have settled here. And there’s of course the demographic development: within 50 years, the population has almost doubled. Accordingly, the number of architectural firms established in Luxembourg – 520 in 2025 – has more than tripled since 1990.

You have been part of these changes. 35 years ago, you became the founding director of the Ordre des Architectes et des Ingénieurs-Conseils (OAI). Unlike in other countries, you combine a wide range of different professions under one roof.

Yes, that is quite unique. All the women and men who conceive the built world we live in are represented in the OAI: architects, consulting engineers, landscape architects, interior architects, urban planners. Beyond its missions as a legal body, as a professional organisation, and as an institution of public interest, the OAI enhances the real dimension of its members’ work at an economic, social, artistic, and cultural level in order to achieve a sustain­able, smart, and high-quality living environment.

What has been your personal highlight in the past three decades?

I’m proud that we’ve built up a great deal of credibility as a partner for legal, professional, and cultural dialogue, taking all dimensions into account that reflect the full range of what architecture, engineering, and urbanism are about. It starts with the fact that we only accept truly independent architects and engineers who have no conflicts of interest, such as a stake in a construction company. There’s also a cultural mission to our work. We want to promote a broad understanding in society of the quality of buildings and the importance of independent planners. "Design first – build smart, sustainable and inclusive": Professional, independent, integrated, and detailed design guarantees added value to any project. That is why the OAI has recently developed the methodology in holistic collaboration moai.lu.

A master’s programme in architecture was finally set up at Luxembourg University a few years ago. How important is that?

It’s a crucial step in moving the debate on architecture and engineering forward. We also work with students on activities.

For Architecture deLUX, which has been published by DOM publishers in May 2025 to mark the 35th anniversary of the OAI, you invited ten ­critics from neighbouring countries to write about contemporary architecture in Luxembourg. What was the idea behind this?

Over the years, we have published a number of our own publications, including the architectour.lu guide, whose database can also be accessed online, as well as books featuring our clients "Bauhärepräis" award. However, what is often missing in a small country like ours, where there is no specialised media and little coverage of architecture in the daily press, is a critical view from the outside. Good reporting is particularly important for increasing public participation. We need the feedback after completion and then two years later to understand how we should build well. Architecture deLUX aims to provide impetus for architectural criticism like this.

What makes a good review?

A good critic understands the context – what the requirements and constraints might have been, but also the sustainability of a project – and doesn’t just follow their own aesthetic ideas. It’s a challenging task.

Apart from independent architecture journalism, what else needs to change in Luxembourg?

We implemented the EU’s green building directives earlier than other countries and are now realising that we may have gone too far by overregulating in all aspects. Similar to the German "Gebäudetyp E", we are trying to build simpler and faster, but better. It’s important that we don’t just demolish buildings after 20 years, but build for 100 years. We also need to rethink urban planning: there is urban sprawl, with houses built to the left and right of transport axes. We need more quality density and harmony in the public space. So, for example, eco-neighbourhoods are built where cars are not allowed.

PIERRE HURT has been the ­director of Luxembourg’s Ordre des Architectes et des Ingénieurs-Conseils (OAI) since its foundation in 1990. The OAI brings together five professions: architects, interior architects, consulting engineers, urban planners, and landscape architects/engineers. The institution thus represents more than 5,600 people currently working in  this field.