Photographer Paul Clemence has unveiled a new photo series documenting Le Corbusier's Notre Dame du Haut in Ronchamp, France. The collection revisits one of the 20th century's most influential works of religious architecture through an exploration of light, materiality, and atmosphere, highlighting the sculptural qualities of the chapel and the changing relationship between its concrete surfaces and natural illumination. Combining black-and-white exterior photographs with color interior images, the series presents a new documentation of a building that continues to shape architectural discourse more than seven decades after its completion.

The idea of a "Great Green Wall" designates a large-scale reforestation initiative undertaken specifically to halt desertification. Currently underway in Africa to prevent the advancement of the Sahara Desert and in China around the Gobi Desert, it is a landscape, agriculture, economic, and social development project in reaction to the rise of global temperatures, over-farming, and unsuitable land management. Both projects, currently underway, are intersectional initiatives involving governments from different countries, civil society organisations, and both individual volunteers and organised groups, guided by the idea of a unified response to global environmental issues through wildlife restoration. It is a large-scale, infrastructural application of a 'green' or 'wildlife corridor': a linear strip of vegetation or natural landscape that connects fragmented ecosystems and wildlife populations separated by human development on a continental scale.

While pyramidal geometry appears in monumental historical structures, its contemporary application remains limited. The primary constraint is the sloping envelope, which contracts the building's floor area as it ascends and reduces usable interior volume compared to orthogonal or cylindrical forms. However, from a structural standpoint, the geometry offers lateral stability against wind and seismic loads due to its broad base, central mass distribution, and self-bracing triangular faces. Nonetheless, applying this shape at a residential scale introduces several layout constraints. These slanted walls limit vertical wall surfaces, which complicates the placement of standard windows, doors, and floor partitions. At the same time, the low clearance along the perimeter also creates unusable floor area at the edges of the room.

A war can erase a skyline overnight. Roofs collapse, streets become impassable, and landmarks that once oriented everyday life are reduced to rubble. The most profound loss often remains invisible. Buildings can be surveyed, photographed, scanned, and, eventually, rebuilt. The knowledge that produced them is far more fragile. It survives in the hands of stonemasons who understand how a limestone vault carries its load, carpenters who know how timber joints respond to seasonal movement, plasterers who mix lime by memory rather than measurement, and residents whose everyday rituals keep these buildings in use. When these people are displaced, killed, or forced to abandon their trades, reconstruction inherits a problem that no drawing or digital model can solve. Stone can always be quarried again. Recovering the knowledge to shape it takes much longer.

The project involved the transformation of an industrial site in the small town of Limoux in the Aude department, and at the heart of a community of municipalities with 30,000 inhabitants. It is a threshold town between urban and rural, a situation that exemplifies the future of regions that have been left behind by major economic trends.

Shenzhen Natural History Museum is one of the world's largest new natural history museums and the largest in South China.

Casa en el Aire is a single-family home located in San Mateo de Alajuela, Costa Rica, on a steeply sloping site with dominant landscape views. Its primary strategy is to address housing through minimal intrusion: rather than resting heavily on the ground, the house is elevated on stilts to reduce earthwork, allow ecological continuity beneath the structure, maintain natural runoff, and prevent flooding, making a complex site habitable without sacrificing accessibility or comfort for its elderly owners.

The Vertical Playgarden was built in the courtyard of the Bajza Street Primary School in Budapest's 6th district, one of the densest inner-city areas of the Hungarian capital. More than 500 children use the school every day, yet the courtyard had long functioned as a mono-functional sports field: a rubber-covered surface enclosed by school buildings and a swimming hall, offering little opportunity for retreat, free play, nature, or differentiated use.