Colonisation initiated the transfer of Western ideas about both heritage discourses and conservation understandings into the non-Western world. The process turned colonised territories into domains where developing heritage views in metropolitan countries were put into practice. Coinciding with the evolution of heritage discourses and modern architectural conservation movements in the West, the British colonial era (1878-1960) in Cyprus became a period where the importation of knowledge introduced new ways of thinking about the treatment of ancient buildings. Based on archival sources, this paper sheds light on the genesis of modern understandings of architectural conservation in Cyprus during the early colonial period (1878-1905), which established the foundations that future practice would be built on. An historical account of the early conservation activities at the key Gothic cathedral-mosques is presented, which illustrates the role of the medievalist conservation ethos imported from Britain and local considerations in the formation of modalities and techniques of intervention. It is shown that, at a time when the protection of built fabric as an amalgam of medieval and postmedieval periods was contested in Britain and Continental Europe, the political reality in Cyprus actually facilitated this approach.

Cambridge University and Microsoft are planning a shared computer research and teaching laboratory on a green-field site to the west of the city. The clients wished to use Internet based communication between themselves and their architects, including email, a website and virtual reality. We explain how this is to be achieved, and describe experiences during the first half of a two year project. Particularly successful has been the use of games software (Quake II) for 3D presentation of the emerging building design.

In the literature that has dealt to date with architecture and urban design related to London's 2012 Olympics and their urban legacy, emphasis has been placed on questions of where and what has been built or envisioned, and on how this can be viewed as reflective of broader political agendas, economic contexts and accompanying issues. In this, there has been relatively little emphasis on design processes and ideas, and particularly on questions of how these are oriented toward and help construct urban legacy as a future – as a matter of how and when. An urban legacy design process was established in 2008 to facilitate the transition of the Olympic Park to a set of new neighbourhoods by 2031 and, through it, to help fulfil a promise of long-term sustainable regeneration for east London. The twenty-three year timeframe and its intended outcome raise questions concerning the urban and architectural imagination of distant futures as of the possible processes of their realisation. Indeed, the ability to design for legacy depends on ways of anticipating the social, political and economic realities that will shape development in east London in the future and of using these to both chart and represent possible paths and conceptual approaches to desired outcomes.

Schindler's Free Public Library competition project of 1920 is analysed. Archival documents are interpreted and an analytic model is constructed. Schindler's standing as a Modernist is considered and his early career is rehearsed, especially his involvement with Frank Lloyd Wright. The formal analysis focuses on the use of symmetry. An interpretation of Schindler's employment of the diagonal axis in the Library is proffered. Historical precedents for diagonal butterfly symmetry in the English free school and the Arts and Crafts movement are examined. A method of analysis using the partial ordering of subsymmetries of the square is applied to the floor plans In conclusion, the influence of the Library project on Schindler's later work is surveyed.

This paper springs from some reflections in the context of the design studio on the meaning of miniature representations (such as drawings or scaled models, for example), in art and architecture. In the pre-reflective understanding of the world which characterises direct human experience, the size of things is an integral and deeply meaningful aspect of their phenomenal reality. Our primary perception of the size of things is, of course, a function of our embodied condition and is inseparable from their essential nature. Things seem great or small to us from the point of view of our moving body and its ability to act upon and manipulate objects of that scale. A mountain is large, difficult to see all at once from close by, and requires a great physical effort to climb. The size of a doll's house provides us with a marvellous power to see and control the life within, a power which is one of the reasons why the miniature pervades our daydream world. The size of a bacterium makes it invisible to the naked eye and immune to the manipulation of our hand, and this condition endows it for us with a degree of mystery and unreality in our daily life. The phenomenon of size, like most things we perceive, is given to us as situated in our experiential world.

What is material as such in architecture? To contribute an answer to this question, the article examines sources from the eighteenth century to today. Discussing Vitruvius' remarks on materiality, Francesco Algarotti cites his Venetian teacher Carlo Lodoli in a 1756 pamphlet on architecture: “For which reason does stone not represent stone, wood [not represent] wood, each material itself and not another?” The paper illuminates the background of this citation, and its adoption and interpretation by successive architectural theorists, such as Gottfried Semper(“Brick should appear as brick, wood as wood, iron as iron”), Eugene Viollet-le-Duc, and Frank Lloyd Wright, the latter emphasizing the importance “to see concrete or glass or metal each for itself and all as themselves.” The thread continues with Adolf Loos' statement that no material “may lay claim for itself to the forms of another material” and the Bauhaus model as taught by Laszlo Moholy-Nagy. Further investigations will concern Louis Kahn's question “What do you want, brick?” and end with Peter Zumthor's discussion of the “reality of building materials.” Discussing rationalist and sensualist approaches to material characteristics such as inner structure and outer surface, the article compares divers positions concerning the question of what can be understood as concrete materiality.

The predominant model of sustainable architecture is based on a sharp differentiation between technical and social realms that tends to situate architectural design practice in an ambiguous and marginalised position. Sustainable architecture as a whole has come to be dominated by a focus on engineering design with a related emphasis on energy efficiency and climate-change strategies that seek to improve the economic performance of buildings whilst providing little or no consideration of the wider contexts of architectural design and production. This paper argues for an expanded understanding of sustainable design and draws on ideas developed within the Philosophy of Technology to point to the broader cultural values and practices that surround particular design choices. From this perspective the work of engineers, architects, and other designers of the built environment provide settings upon which the ongoing dramas of political action are mounted.

Through analysis of ‘live’ student design-build projects, the paper explores three distinct conceptualisations of sustainable design practice in which buildings are interpreted as physical manifestations of differentiated frames of design thinking that emphasise either de-contextualised, context-bound or re-contextualising design processes. Although these apparently distinct practices can be analytically differentiated, it is argued that the realisation of sustainable design practices inevitably involves a seamless interaction and interchange between the differentiated dimensions. The conclusion draws on the work of Andrew Feenberg to conceptualise sustainable design as a concrete practice whereby abstract technical concerns and social considerations seamlessly converge to produce artefacts that fit specific contexts.

The sun control device has to be on the outside of the building, an element of the facade, an element of architecture. And because this device is so important a part of our open architecture, it may develop into as characteristic a form as the Doric column.

Victor Olgyay (1910–1970), a Hungarian architect who came to the United States in 1947 with his twin brother and collaborator, Aladár (1910–1963), is best known today as the author of Design with Climate: Bioclimatic Approach to Architectural Regionalism (1963), an important book often referenced in the environmental building design field [1]. As leaders in research in bioclimatic architecture from the early 1950s to the late 1960s, the Olgyay brothers could be considered the ‘fathers’ of contemporary environmental building design. Their research and publications laid the foundation for much of the building simulation software in use today. Other than the difference between working on graph paper and using computer-generated graphics, there is little difference between Autodesk's Ecotect Analysis (simulation and building energy analysis software) and the Olgyays' techniques for the analysis of environmental factors and graphical representation of climate. The manner in which the Olgyays established connections between building design and the science of climate laid the foundation for the development of environmental simulation, one of contemporary architecture's leading methods of form generation. Victor Olgyay's teaching, however, represents another kind of thinking, a broader concern for architecture, beyond energy performance. ‘The primary task of architecture,’ Olgyay announced to his students, ‘is to act in man's favour; to interpose itself between man and his natural surroundings in order to remove the environmental load from his shoulders.

The development of architectural knowledge and research in Britain offers a context in which to interpret a recent study of research across UK architectural schools.

Models are increasingly used in exhibitions on historical themes. However, far from being merely an aid to representation, architectural modelling invariably acts as a highly effective aid to research.

The history of London has long been entwined with expansions of financial capital and the machinations of global plutocrats and their more proximate counterparts.1 However, what has happened in the decade since the global financial crisis is without precedent. London has been transformed into a city for global capital rather than one designed to meet the needs and aspirations of the majority of its denizens.2

This paper involves an analysis of the role of architectural projects which can be defined as ‘catalysts’ to urban renewal. The aims of this paper are twofold and the paper is divided accordingly into two main parts. The first aim is to discuss, with reference to the work of a number of urban and architectural thinkers, a range of ways in which the term ‘urban catalyst’ has been both conceptualised and applied. Discussion is structured in relation to the Oxford English Dictionary's definition of a ‘catalyst’ in the field of chemistry as,

[a] substance that when present in small amounts increases the rate of a chemical reaction or process but which is chemically unchanged by the reaction; a catalytic agent. (A substance which similarly slows down a reaction is occas. called a negative catalyst.)

Ideas about movement were fundamental for Modernist architecture of the early twentieth century and are ubiquitous in contemporary theory and practice. The shifting theoretical terrain in which bodily movement is made sense of has continuously produced different understandings of architectural possibilities. For example, where in much early Modernism, and in present conventional practice, movement is often articulated in terms of technical, functional circulation and narrativised aesthetic experience (the architectural promenade), other recent practices adopt more ambivalent approaches. The emphasis in these later practices is on the relationality of programmatic elements, articulated in terms of dynamic coexistence, continual variation and fluid, interconnected space. In this way, they connect to a pervasive concern with mobility in the late twentieth, and early twenty-first century: culture is increasingly seen as dynamic and hybrid, societies are defined through complex webs of interconnection, and social theory is focused on the nomadic. In this context, examining changing conceptions and structuring of bodily movement within architecture provides a means for productively reengaging with modern architectural history.

Increasingly, healthcare providers are asking for evidence based design solutions in the construction of new facilities. But where does a designer begin when there is no credible evidence to support the design process because it has yet to gain the attention of researchers? Within this paper we reflect on a university-practice partnership undertaken to provide a feasibility study for the future redevelopment of an eight-bed paediatric hospice in Australia. In embarking on this project, the project team assumed that a thorough literature review would furnish a body of research to rigorously inform the feasibility study. The realisation that this research was not available necessitated an evidence gathering process from first principles, where methods from academic practice required translation and customisation to fit within commercial time frames and resourcing constraints. This article recommends a selection of research methods for use by architects working within healthcare settings where foundational research to inform the design process is not available. It also argues for a re-conceptualisation of the built environment’s value relative to wellbeing.

In preparation for the Millennium Eve celebrations, a study was undertaken to predict crowd movement. The objectives were: to identify characteristics of crowd movement and congregation, and how this might be related to spatial layout; to evaluate, in consultation with risk management experts, how this might affect public safety; and to help develop and prepare effective crowd management measures. The study demonstrates how the observational techniques of space syntax have evolved to enable the investigation of the effect, if any, of spatial layout on crowd behaviour.

In the mid 1920s, a physiologist, a glass technologist, and a zoo embarked on an exciting new venture which promised to turn buildings into therapeutic devices. Their project was to devise an architectural glass which would admit the beneficial, therapeutic ultraviolet spectrum of sunlight into the building; they called their invention ‘Vitaglass’. Vitaglass was the first ultraviolet ray glass – one of the more curious products to emerge from the 1920s architectural glass industry. Its distinguishing feature was that it enabled the invisible ultraviolet radiation of the sun to be admitted into the building; its refined chemistry promised to ‘let health into the building’ where ordinary soda-lime glass had blocked it out [1]..

Interaction between the contents and the architecture lies at the heart of the Museum of Scotland's presentation of the story of the land and its people. The design accordingly raises questions concerning the relation between architecture, the viewer and the educational message. Space syntax techniques suggest that this relation is based on a configurational logic combining informality and a clear structure. This study also examines the curatorial interpretation of the collections and demonstrates that the building forms a coherent setting for objects and exhibition themes.

Buildings are constructed, expanded, refurbished, demolished, deconstructed and relocated in response to the essential needs of contemporary societies. Inevitably, these needs evolve with time. Modern design and construction have always operated in a constantly shifting context of requirements and resources. It is well known that unanticipated forces and emerging circumstances have compelled change in architecture through the ages and yet, most buildings are constructed to serve for countless decades (Kronenburg, 2000, Brand, 1994). During that time, buildings are exposed to an enormous range of fluctuating pressures. In this age of furious technological innovation, growing global ecological awareness and changing economic and societal priorities, the pace of change is increasingly frenetic. Out of this state of affairs arise both significant challenges and intriguing opportunities.

Sustainability is the most significant force to change architecture since the breakthrough of modernism a century ago. So far the contributions of architects to this mandate have largely amounted to technological interventions. Yet the urgent call for sustainability demands going beyond merely technological solutions to modify behavioral patterns, cultural habits and even our deeply ingrained ideas about ourselves. The very notion that architecture could modify behavioral patterns, or the sedimentation of habits seems far-fetched in an epistemological framework that has drawn strict lines between outside and inside, subject and object, body and mind — all the dualities that the cognitive and neurosciences have been gradually working to undermine. Our practice as architects has been unconsciously shaped by centuries of formalist thinking that have turned buildings into inanimate objects; a habit of thinking that has weakened our role and contributed to the sense that architecture is a luxury item, one among many consumable commodities — though we can no longer deny that it is the very fabric of our survival and flourishing.

Further, the once healthy plurality of our architectural theory has left us without a coherent philosophical framework with which to confront the climate crisis. For John Dewey, theory and practice were not ontologically separate domains, but two distinct yet inseparable and necessary aspects of engaging in the world. This essay explores how Dewey's pragmatic philosophy could help to build a theoretical framework that would allow us to apply and integrate the findings of the cognitive and neurosciences into our architectural practice and education, so that we might respond not only to the constraints and opportunities of the given context — site, program and energy resources—but also to the limits and affordances of our perceptual systems and the whole of our body and mind.

Early issues of arq in the mid-1990s were preoccupied with the possibilities for researching architecture through design: how design research might be constituted and communicated, and – practically for architecture schools at that time – how design might be counted as research in the newly-introduced metrics used to judge research quality in UK Universities.

Debates around design research in arq in the 1990s reflected uncertainties about its position in both practice and academic culture at that time. Since then, design research has gained traction, becoming increasingly accepted and acquiring greater capital in architectural academe. Key texts in architectural design research are increasingly leaving behind the question ‘is design considered research or not?’ to search instead for how to secure the status of design as a rigorous mode of academic inquiry. There is increasing confidence in the architectural field about the potential and power of design as a research method. Yet the notion of design research in architecture remains broad, with a diversity of approaches echoed in a diversity of distinct but overlapping terminologies. Taking its cue from arq's early focus on design research, this paper sketches-out its contemporary methodological landscape in architecture, surveying key sources in design research scholarship.