The wait is over, festival season is officially back in full force, starting strong with California’s Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. The 2026 chapter of the world’s most talked-about music festival has arrived. With over 160 artists performing, Weekend 1 has officially kicked off. While the music may headline, the fashion is the moment, with all eyes on the fits as always. Here, we will round up the best-dressed, from A-list celebrities to leading influencers alike. 

Sabrina Carpenter 

Starting off strong with headliner Sabrina Carpenter who channelled pure old Hollywood glamour with grand set designs and her four different looks, in which she turned to Jonathan Anderson for Dior. One of our favourites from her Weekend 1 lookbook is her “Bed Chem” moment, where she changed into a white pearl fringed bra top and a matching skirt. This lingerie set pays tribute to boudoir aesthetics, in true Sabrina style.

 

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Karol G 

As a main 2026 Coachella headliner, Karol G became the first Latina ever to headline arguably the world’s largest and most exciting music festival; to celebrate her big career moment, she showcased many different looks throughout her performance. A favourite though was the gold-beaded stringy set by Michael Schmidt Studios.  

 

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Leah Halton 

Switching gears to the influencer side of Coachella, Leah Halton, a viral Australian TikTok creator with just under 16 million followers on the platform, was one of the best-dressed influencers of the weekend. She used the natural grounds of Indio, California as inspiration for her Friday outfit – a multi-textured cut-out top and a ruched skirt. Combining earthy based tones throughout her outfit, such as sand, khaki and different shades of brown, they reflect the desert (the festival is held in).    

 

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Sombr 

Breaking from the overly casual styling seen among many male artists this year, Sombr stayed true to his classic rock roots. Dressed in custom Valentino, he wore a rock-studded leather jacket over a sheer black lace long sleeve, and matching leather pants.  

 

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Camila Cabello 

As one of the most iconic guest appearances, all eyes were on Camila Cabello when she joined Young Thug for “Havana”. She wore a white lace corset with an ivory scarf tied around her waist. Though minimalistic, this all-white look felt effortlessly ethereal, romantic, soft and dreamy. This brings back Coachella’s signature bohemian, free-spirited aesthetic and serves as summer style inspiration. 

 

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Hailey Bieber 

Founder of skincare brand Rhode, Hailey rocked a colourful vintage Dior silk slip dress from the maison’s fall/winter 1998 collection for her brand’s pop-up experience/influencer event. Even though the yellow and pink was very playful, the dress balanced bold colouring with minimal styling – clean girl meets festival. 

 

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Alix Earle 

Social media personality delivered one of the more striking influencer festival looks, centring her outfit around a multi-textured corset top with an animal-print theme. She layered gold chunky jewellery, leaning into a maximalist approach, featuring a vintage Chanel choker to elevate the outfit and to meet the high impact festival aesthetic. 

 

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The post Fashion in the Desert: 7 Best Coachella 2026 Weekend 1 Looks appeared first on Our Culture.

Ever wondered how women used to take care of themselves before hydration started arriving in dropper bottles and a synthetically pink price tag? I didn’t. My family made sure I knew early on, which, at some point, led me to start questioning what on earth was happening in everyone else’s bathrooms. Exactly the reason I went generation-hopping, starting from the early 1900s, looking for beauty secrets. And I expected folklore. What I got was closer to ingredients you’d normally associate with cooking, cleaning, or emergency situations. To be clear, this is about what went on the body, not into it. Although I am personally not above grabbing a chunk of ginger like it’s a medically licensed intervention. Fair warning: not everything here would make it past a dermatologist’s desk today. Proceed mentally, not practically.

The Greatest Generation (1901-1927)

Sadly, there’s only one woman from that era whose beauty habits I can actually speak for. No research needed to guess she took care of herself, she’s my late great-grandmother. Good thing she makes up for five. I’ve still never seen hair better than hers. I’ve also only ever seen it worn one particular way. Look at her from the front and you’d only see a scarf, neatly tied around her head. From the back, two alarmingly long braids appeared, and just before they hit the floor, they were woven into each other, forming one continuous loop of beautiful gray hair. I always thought they could double as a jump rope.

The benefit, if you can call it that, was brutal simplicity. No heat damage, no styling damage, no anything damage. Just hair that was left alone long enough to survive itself. Of course, the hairstyle alone wasn’t enough for a 1920s-born Rapunzel. It was strictly olive oil bar soap, combs, air-dried by default, and if extra shine was ever needed, a bowl of literal ash sat in the corner. Turns out, it is highly alkaline, removing oil until the hair is stripped back to absolute basics, looking shinier by absence.

Silent Generation (1928-1945)

If the previous generation relied on leaving their hair alone, this one clearly didn’t trust stillness. We’ve all heard about the 100 strokes a day myth. My grandmother remembers it a little differently. Sugar water was, apparently, the hairspray. Mixed and left to dry, it formed a sticky layer that kept everything exactly where it was supposed to be, along with anything else that happened to come into contact with it. That alone could justify the 100 strokes. Butter occasionally made its way onto the face, not exactly as skincare, but because animal fats were one of the few things available that could keep the skin from cracking during harsh winters.

Baby Boomers (1946-1964)

My other grandmother split her time between two places, Greece’s Epirus, filled with goats, and Germany’s Cologne, filled with beer. Unsurprisingly, both ended up having their place in a beauty routine. Goat yoghurt was used as a face mask, soothing, gently exfoliating, and deeply moisturizing, with a pH close enough to the skin’s to support its natural microbiome. Of course, back then, it was just “softening.” Beer was used as a hair rinse, with its proteins supposedly adding lift and volume to limp hair. It was also credited with managing oily scalps, reducing dandruff, and making frizz slightly more obedient.

Generation X (1965-1980)

My mother falls squarely into that category, the closest a human can get to a Sphynx cat, hair-wise at least. I don’t really think that woman even knows how to use a razor. The only thing she’s ever done is halawa, better known as sugaring. Made mostly from sugar, water, and lemon, applied warm, removed quickly, and designed to take hair out from the root while simultaneously exfoliating the skin. She has also seen her cousins and girlfriends apply lemon straight to their faces, for its citric acid, which offered a quick sense of brightness and cleanliness, along with a high chance of irritation.

Generation Y (1981-1996)

I’ve seen my cousin use lemon a bit more creatively. A spray bottle hated to see her coming during the summertime. Paired with chamomile and endlessly misted under the sun, to lighten the hair, of course. Once that little routine was over, rosemary oil would follow as a scalp treatment, for circulation, hair growth, and everything in between, plus a bit of shine to make it look like something was happening right away.

I also reached out to a friend of mine I swore would give me fifty recipes. Turns out, her oil of choice before a shower is olive oil, moisturizing the hair, softening it, reducing breakage, and keeping the scalp relatively calm. My favorite though, was a face mask she fully believed in. Water and yeast. Supposedly antibacterial (nicotinic acid and all), good for collagen and cell renewal, decent at holding moisture, and responsible for that slightly glowy look. This, I’d try.

Generation Z (1997-2012)

And last but not least, my fellow Gen Z-ers. For this, I spoke to two friends of mine, one a model, the other fully skincare-obsessed. Apparently, both start their mornings by plunging their faces into a bowl of water and ice. It helps with puffiness and swelling, and is said to promote lymphatic drainage. I used to stick to a single ice cube, but clearly, that’s no longer enough. Another girl, another hair oil. The first one talked me through pumpkin seed oil, mainly for its supposed ability to block DHT (a hormone behind hair loss), and support growth over time with its fatty acids. The other, thankfully, didn’t even mention hair (one more oil and I’d lose it). Instead, she swears by a sugar-based lip scrub with coffee and honey, which, to be fair, I believe in, mostly because even plain sugar gets the job done in a hurry.

I’ve had a moment with DIY face masks myself, turmeric here, yoghurt there, honey somewhere in between. Short-lived, at best. One thing I would say, rethink body creams and deodorants. “Fragrance” is code for a cocktail of chemicals you’re expected not to question, and the rest of the label doesn’t exactly invite confidence either. Pure shea butter melts into oil within seconds on the skin, add a drop or two of your favorite essential oil, and there you have it, intense nourishment. As for deodorant, our underarm glands welcome way more into our body than you’d think. There are plenty of natural options, fruit-based, tree-oil-based, all proudly free of words you might struggle with. Golden rule: if it kills your tongue a little, think twice.

The post I Just Went Through 6 Generations of Weird, Handmade Beauty Rituals appeared first on Our Culture.

Kengo Kuma and Associates have recently completed this Chikujō Town Public Library, reworking a former public hall into a timber-filled civic space in rural Fukuoka, Japan.

Set within a quiet landscape, the new library presents a low, extended form whose edges are softened by a field of vertical wooden louvers. These slender members gather along the facade and entrance canopy, where they tilt and fan outward, forming a porous threshold between town and interior. Their spacing allows light to pass through while tempering the scale of the existing structure.

the Chikujō library entrance is framed by timber louvers that rise into a canopy | images ©︎ Masaki Hamada / kkpo

a timber canopy shapes arrival

Approaching the Chikujō library’s entrance, the louvers rise and bend into a broad canopy which the team at Kengo Kuma and Associates design to frame the main access point. The structure reads as both enclosure and filter, offering shade while guiding movement toward the doors. The rhythm of timber elements creates a shifting pattern across the ground, marking the passage from open plaza to covered approach.

This exterior intervention carries through to the interior, where the same language of vertical timber defines the central atrium. Here, Keichiku cypress (hinoki) is arranged in angled arrays that extend upward from floor to ceiling, tracing a series of branching geometries that organize circulation.

vertical wooden members shape a soft threshold between town and interior

kengo kuma transforms a concrete hall

Within the former public hall, Kengo Kuma and Associates’ insertion of timber alters both scale and atmosphere. The original concrete frame remains legible, yet it is softened by the density and warmth of wood. Light filters through the upper levels and moves across the angled members, producing a layered interior that shifts throughout the day.

Stairs and walkways pass between these timber clusters, offering varied vantage points across the library. From the upper floor, the arrangement reveals itself as a continuous field rather than discrete elements to guid visitors through reading areas and open seating without fixed boundaries.

the atrium is defined by angled hinoki slats that guide movement through the building

spaces for movement and concentration

On the ground level, the Chikujō library introduces a series of circular and stepped platforms integrated with low bookshelves. These elements support reading, play, and informal gathering, allowing children to move freely while remaining connected to books. The surfaces are finished in warm wood tones, with soft edges that encourage sitting and climbing.

Above, the second floor shifts in tone. Open stacks are arranged with greater regularity, and seating areas are positioned for longer periods of study. The ceiling grid and exposed services remain visible, giving the space a straightforward character that contrasts with the more animated ground level.

timber structures extend from floor to ceiling across the central space

children interact with books through stepped platforms and integrated shelves

curved seating and low shelving create spaces for play and gathering

circulation paths move between wooden elements and open reading areas

upper level stacks are arranged for quiet reading and longer stays

project info:

name: Chikujō Town Public Library ‘Kizuki no Mori’

architect: Kengo Kuma & Associates | @kkaa_official

location: Chikujō, Kyushu, Japan

area: 2,846 square meters

completion: November 2025

photography: ©︎ Masaki Hamada / kkpo

team: Hironori Nagai, Shota Kobayashi, Yoshinori Yaguchi, Yoo Shiho (Graphic)
construction: Matsuyama Kensetsu
structure: Kozo Keikaku Engineering
lighting: Electric Works Company, Panasonic Corporation

The post kengo kuma sculpts radiating hinoki louvres throughout new library in chikujō, japan appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

For millennia, humans have navigated seas, rivers, and oceans as avenues for trade, exploration, conquest, and colonization. During the Age of Discovery—an era interwoven with what’s known as the Age of Sail—European explorers and traders embarked on journeys around the world to map previously uncharted continents, trade commodities, and establish new socio-political outposts. Imperial forces competed with one another to control as much as they could, all in the name of wealth and power, and individual landowners and traders profited immensely. But sustaining a presence in far-flung places would never have been remotely possible, nevertheless successful, without slavery.

Well into the 19th century, humans were transported through a vast slave network, with millions crammed aboard ships bound for various parts of Europe or North America. For London-based artist LR Vandy, the layered and often fraught legacies of labor, shipping, and trade undergird a distinctive sculptural practice.

Vandy’s studio is based at Chatham Historic Dockyard in Kent, where the history of wooden ships is alive and well. She uses materials such as Manila rope—a thick nautical rope made from the abaca plant, which is native to The Philippines—bobbers, navigation equipment, ship’s helms, hull-shaped wooden forms, and more, to explore the tangles of maritime history.

Vandy’s exhibition titled Rise, in The Weston Gallery at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, marks the artist’s first solo museum show. Many of the works seen here are included in the show, while others represent earlier pieces. In her most recent work, the rope is a central focus as she explores its “entanglement in human
history, its role in the development of civilisations, and its inextricable links to colonial enslavement of people,” says an exhibition statement. Everyday objects are repurposed and manipulated in an ongoing inquiry into process and materials, especially “drawing attention to the social, economic and political systems embedded within everyday objects.”

Anchoring the space at Yorkshire Sculpture Park is a giant, rope-covered form evocative of a maypole, nodding to historic European folk traditions that celebrate community, ritual, and regeneration. Other objects appear to spin or sway, as if skirts are swishing or invisible players move through a series of games. “My practice centres the hidden human costs of colonialism, transportation systems and commodities, and the knotted histories of trade and power they contain,” Vandy says in a statement. “The title, Rise, references ideas of resilience, protest, liberation, and collective joy explored through rituals and dance.”

Rise continues through September 13 in Wakefield. Learn more and plan your visit on the park’s website, and follow Vandy on Instagram for updates.

Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $7 per month. The article LR Vandy’s Rope Sculptures Disentangle Histories of Colonialism and Transportation appeared first on Colossal.

In Nanping Village near Huangshan, China, Atelier Guo transforms a centuries-old ancestral hall into a functioning cinema and public living room, without altering its protected structure. The project demonstrates how preservation can operate as a framework for new collective life. The intervention is minimal in physical impact yet expansive in cultural ambition, positioning the building as a shared platform for film, reading, and everyday gathering within a rural context increasingly shaped by migration and change.

The Cheng Family Ancestral Hall is preserved intact through a pivoting panel system that introduces all new functions. Developed by the architects, this pivoting panel system sits lightly within the three-bay layout. Inspired by traditional Huizhou construction logic, where structural and infill elements operate separately, it allows new spatial divisions to emerge without compromising the original fabric. Panels open and close to recalibrate thresholds between public and private zones, improving ventilation and protecting the existing timber surfaces from moisture.

The structural rhythm of the ancestral hall frames multiple modes of watching, including eye-level seating within the second bay, or from a distance across the entrance courtyard. The screen is never isolated but always embedded within layers of columns, panels, and circulation. Above, an operable shading system enables screenings during the day, turning the courtyard into an adaptable auditorium that shifts with light and activity.

all images by Qingshan Wu

a library woven into the structure

A mezzanine-level library occupies the upper layer of the hall, where the Shanghai-based team at Atelier Guo  matches high windows and generous proportions with detachable, modular furniture. This flexibility allows the space to host reading sessions as well as informal gatherings, aligning with the broader ambition of the project to support cultural programming and everyday use.

Steel elements are wrapped in wood, aligning with the hall’s existing textures, while furniture dimensions are carefully calibrated to sit comfortably within the historic envelope. The project combines off-site prefabrication with on-site assembly by local craftsmen, ensuring both precision and adaptability. Even technical systems, such as the shading mechanism and café services, are integrated with minimal intrusion, preserving the integrity of the heritage structure.

As panels pivot and spaces expand or contract, the building continuously redefines itself. Its operation relies on active participation from villagers, proposing a shift in how rural heritage is understood. 

the village fabric leads toward the hall, positioning the cinema within everyday life

the ancestral hall exterior is preserved intact

the courtyard becomes an open-air cinema

the main screening space is defined by minimal intervention within the ancestral hall

new insertions organize exhibitions and circulation

a compact café is inserted as a freestanding volume near the entrance

prefabricated furniture and shelving align with the rhythm of the existing structure

pivoting panels and display elements introduce flexible layers without touching historic walls

interior views reveal shifting spatial configurations as panels open and close

pairing bookshelves with continuous seating

reading platforms overlook the courtyard

mezzanine library integrates modular shelving

warm daylight reveals the dialogue between new timber insertions and aged materials

a horizontal opening reconnects the interior with the courtyard and surrounding roofs

a window-like opening frames the tiled roofs

the hall becomes a gathering point

project info:

name: Village Cinema

architect: Atelier Guo | @atelierguo

location: Nanping Village, Huangshan, Anhui, China

area: 323 square meters

lead architect: Liaohui Guo

team: Liaohui Guo, Min Wu, Bang Zhang, Wenkai Wang, Huan Chen, Tengxin Sun, Ruiqi Situ, Jingyi Ren

project architects: Min Wu, Bang Zhang, Wenkai Wang

site architect: Wenkai Wang

client: Village Cinema Temporary Party Branch, Nanping Village Committee

photographer: Qingshan Wu | @wuqingshan.archphotographer

The post atelier guo inserts cinema into an ancestral hall in china without touching its past appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

Lahdelma & Mahlamäki Architects shapes this Lost Shtetl Jewish Museum as a tranquil space among a sloping meadow in Šeduva, Lithuania. The museum has been realized in honor of a village and its Jewish community that vanished in August 1941. It draws its meaning from the execution of 664 residents in nearby forests and from the disappearance of a culture that had shaped the town for generations.

Rather than reconstructing Šeduva in literal terms, the architects assemble a cluster of abstract houses with hip roofs. Each volume approximates the scale of a single family dwelling. Together they form a compact settlement that suggests a village, or ‘shtetl’, through proportion and proximity. In this way, the Lost Shtetl Jewish Museum reads as a small village gathered in humble conversation across a landscape by Enea Landscape Architecture.

image © Kuvatoimisto Kuvio

facades of gleaming aluminum shingles

The facades of the Lost Shtetl Jewish Museum are clad in marine aluminum, a material chosen by the architects for its durability and recyclability. Sheets are cut and layered in a pattern that recalls wooden shingles. The surface takes on a scale like texture that catches light differently over the course of the day and through the seasons. In overcast weather the volumes appear muted and matte. Meanwhile, under low sun, the metal flickers with a soft sheen.

This reference to weathered rural buildings typical of the Lithuanian countryside grounds the museum in its setting. The material does more than protect the structure. It establishes a visual dialogue with barns and farmhouses in the surrounding fields, and translates vernacular memory into a contemporary envelope.

image courtesy the architects

A clustered museum designed for expansion

Short, narrow passageways connect the individual ‘houses’ of the Lost Shtetl Jewish Museum. Moving between them, visitors experience a subtle compression before entering the next gallery. The sequence reinforces the sense of walking through a village, passing from one interior to another.

This clustered layout also allows for future expansion as additional volumes can be introduced without disturbing the overall composition. The museum was conceived with the possibility of growth in mind, which ensures that its physical form can evolve alongside its growing curatorial ambitions.

image © Kuvatoimisto Kuvio

The grounds extend the narrative beyond the walls. Conceived as a memorial park, the landscape traces what has been described as the last journey. A birch alley leads through flowering meadows and wetlands before reaching an orchard. These elements reflect terrains that residents of Šeduva might have encountered on their way to the forests where they were killed.

The entrance hall opens toward this cultivated expanse across a meadow. Large openings frame views of grass and trees, allowing interior and exterior to remain in steady visual contact. The setting tempers the threshold between remembrance and exhibition to offer a moment of stillness before the descent.

image © Aiste Rakauskaite

Visitors enter at the upper level and then move downward to the exhibition spaces below. This strategy, used by the architects in earlier museum projects, follows the natural slope of the site. The main lobby feels intimate, with open service counters and a small café arranged in a space that resembles a living room in scale and atmosphere.

Inside the galleries, the roof geometry becomes visible again. Although the exhibition follows a black box concept, each space mirrors the hip roof profile overhead. Skylights set along the ridge admit controlled daylight, bringing a measured glow to the displays.

image © Aiste Rakauskaite

The curatorial script for the museum was drafted before the building design began. The architects were tasked with creating a setting for a narrative centered on one Lithuanian shtetl, while acknowledging the broader network of 294 such towns that once existed across the country.

A memorial wall made of mouth blown glass pieces embedded in a wooden grid lists the names of those communities. Light filters through the translucent glass, activating the surface and giving depth to the engraved names. The detail work in joints and built in furnishings demonstrates a high level of precision, reinforcing the sense of composure that defines the interior.

The lower level includes a narrow, tall dark space known as the Canyon of Holocaust. Its vertical proportions intensify the passage through the story of destruction. The sequence concludes in a similarly tall white space called the Canyon of Hope, oriented toward the cemetery and open fields.

image © Aiste Rakauskaite

image © Aiste Rakauskaite

image © Aiste Rakauskaite

project info:

name: The Lost Shtetl Jewish Museum

architect: Lahdelma & Mahlamäki Architects | @lmarchitects_fi

location: Šeduva, Lithuania

landscape: Enea Landscape Architecture | @enealandscapearchitecture

area: 4,900 square meters

completion: 2025

photography: © Aiste Rakauskaite | @aiste.rakauskaite, © Kuvatoimisto Kuvio | @kuviophoto, © Andrew Lee

The post lithuania’s ‘lost shtetl jewish museum’ takes shape as a gleaming, clustered village appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

In China‘s Nanhai District, this Yongping Warehouse has seen a renovation by Atelier cnS which reworks a row of riverfront industrial buildings into a landscaped rooftop public space. Once tied to river trade, the warehouses now occupy a stretch of waterfront that is gradually opening to residents, with access and visibility taking on new importance.

From a distance, the project is defined by a series of translucent, domed canopies that gather across the roofline. Their low, clustered profile reads as a continuous form hovering above the existing brick volumes. The gesture is simple and easy to read, and gives the site a recognizable presence along the river while drawing movement upward.

images © Siming Wu

placing the park above the building

The Yongping Warehouse Renovation organizes its program vertically. The architects at Atelier cnS reserves interiors and ground level for commercial use, while the roof becomes the primary public space. This arrangement responds directly to the narrow footprint, and allows the project to expand outward without increasing its base.

Circulation follows the existing structure. The gaps between warehouse blocks are preserved and widened into passageways that connect the street, interior spaces, and roof. Moving through them, the river appears intermittently, framed by walls and stairs before opening fully at the top.

the project transforms former river trade warehouses into a landscaped public space

working with the existing fabric

The original masonry facades remain in place, carrying the texture and scale of the former warehouses. Their surfaces show the logic of straightforward construction, which the project keeps visible rather than covering with new finishes. Against this, new elements — concrete slabs, steel framing, and the canopy system — introduce a lighter layer that sits above.

Inside, the removal of the original roof structure allows for increased ceiling height, making the spaces more usable for current tenants. This shift is legible above, where the former pitched roofs are translated into an uneven ground condition across the rooftop.

a series of faceted canopy structures creates a recognizable presence along the river

shaping the roof as terrain

The roof is treated as a continuous surface that rises and dips in response to the underlying structure. Grassy slopes, stepped seating, and play areas are distributed across it, encouraging movement across different levels rather than along a single path.

The materials reinforce this connection to the site’s past. Reclaimed stone appears along the river edge, while salvaged timber is reintroduced in small installations. These elements sit alongside new concrete and metal surfaces, creating a layered condition without trying to match the original construction.

the rooftop is converted into a continuous public park above active commercial spaces

a canopy that gathers activity

The canopy structures define the atmosphere of the rooftop. Built from a hexagonal frame and covered with translucent panels, they provide shade while allowing light to pass through. Their scale creates covered zones that support seating, play, and circulation.

Underneath, the space feels open but moderated. Light is diffused, and the river remains visible through the structure and beyond the edge. The Yongping Warehouse Renovation brings together these conditions into a single continuous sequence, where former industrial buildings support a new pattern of use along the water.

circulation moves through preserved gaps between buildings to link the street and roof

new concrete and steel elements sit lightly against the existing masonry

the roof is reshaped into slopes steps and play surfaces inspired by former pitched forms

the canopy filters light and gathers people beneath a shaded open structure

project info:

name: Yongping Warehouse Renovation

architect: Atelier cnS

location: Foshan, China

area: 4,311 square meters
completion: 2025
photography: © Siming Wu

design direction: Zhiyuan Zhu, Gang Song, Guanqiu Zhong
project director: Hairui Lin
design team: Ziqi Zhang, Xiaoyin Chen, Dongyan Lin, Yaqian Cai, Haixin Lin, Wenyuan
engineering, structural consulting: Shengyi Architectural Design Studio

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Northcote House sits within a compact site in Melbourne, Australia, designed by LLDS as a reworking of a Victorian terrace. The narrow plot runs east to west, with a design that raises the ground plane to form a roof garden, giving back outdoor space within a dense urban condition.

This elevated landscape carries a brown roof that supports local ecology while extending the life of the house beyond its footprint. Beneath it, a hall-like volume gathers kitchen, dining, and entry within a single continuous space. The scale recalls nearby factory lofts and church halls, where openness supports shared occupation.

Designed as the architect’s own home, the project reflects a preference for smaller gathering spaces distributed across the plan. Each area supports a different mode of occupation, from the compact kitchen and dining space to the double-height ‘snug’, an intimate space encircled by a sculptural stair. The rooftop terrace opens out to offer views across surrounding rooftops toward distant landscapes surrounding the city.

image © Tom Ross

a fluid staircase centers the northcote house

At the center of the Northcote House, the team at LLDS sculpts a circular ‘snug.’ A void above draws daylight deep into the house and allows air to move through its full depth. Surrounding this fluid element, bedroom suites sit to either side. Movement flows around this snug, with stairs wrapping its edge and creating a gradual descent into a more enclosed, tactile space.

The absence of internal doors between primary rooms allows continuous movement, shaped instead by material shifts and level changes. Dark green finishes sit against timber stairs and wall linings, creating a consistent atmosphere.

Within the snug, locally sourced kangaroo and deer hides introduce a heavier, grounded texture against the concrete surfaces. The east bedroom carries a vaulted concrete soffit, transferring loads from the roof while shaping the ceiling with a distinct curvature.

the Northcote House reworks a Victorian terrace within a narrow inner city Melbourne site

llds designs the facade as a living surface

Both east and west elevations act as trellises for climbing plants, drawing vegetation into the depth of LLDS’s Northcote House. These planted surfaces extend the roof garden’s ecological intent downward, creating a layered interface between interior and street. At the front, a raised veranda overlooks the laneway and adjacent car park, offering a quiet form of observation tied to the neighborhood.

This threshold space takes cues from the Japanese engawa, or porch, where interior and exterior meet through a loosely defined edge. It supports informal use while maintaining a connection to public life. At the rear, a smaller courtyard introduces privacy and includes an outdoor shower, adding another dimension to how the house engages with open air.

trellis facades carry climbing plants that extend greenery across the structure

Material logic and construction methods

The project is guided by material selection tied closely to fabrication and long-term performance. Components were chosen for their texture, durability, and ability to be handled by an owner-builder. Many elements were produced within a short radius of the site, integrating digital fabrication methods such as CNC milling and robotic processes.

PIR sheets were milled to form the textured concrete wall, then reused as insulation within the roof assembly. Point cloud scanning informed the construction process, aligning concrete textures across joints and guiding the fabrication of the free-form plywood roof. This roof, developed in collaboration with TGA Engineering, spans the main volume with an exposed soffit that expresses its geometry directly.

a hall-like living space brings kitchen, dining, and entry into a shared volume

a circular snug organizes the plan and draws daylight deep into the house

digital fabrication and local production guide the timber roof and concrete construction

stairs wrap the snug to shape a continuous path of movement without corridors

a textured concrete wall improves thermal performance and softens interior acoustics

project info:

name: Northcote House

architect: LLDS | @llds_architecture

location: Melbourne, Australia

photography: © Tom Ross | @tomross.xyz

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A housing project by H&P Architects, dubbed Flying Vegetation, rises among Vietnam‘s Thai Binh city where a dense urban fabric is opened up by a shared neighborhood garden. The house is recognized at once by its planted facade that mediates the threshold between interior space and the street and uses vegetation as both screen and living surface.

Across the front elevation, rows of terracotta pots are held within a light steel frame that rises the full height of the building. The pots are spaced to allow growth and airflow, forming a permeable screen that softens light, reduces dust, and introduces a shifting layer of green. Seen from the street, the facade reads as a continuous field of plants, while from inside it becomes a calibrated filter that frames views outward.

images © Le Minh Hoang

H&P integrates food production into the structure

The planting system is designed by the team at H&P Architects as an adaptable framework rather than a fixed composition. Each pot sits within a circular metal holder that can be opened for maintenance, allowing residents to replace soil, adjust plant types, and respond to seasonal change. This approach treats the facade as an evolving surface, shaped over time through use.

Material choices reinforce this logic. Clay pots and brick walls share a similar tonal range, grounding the building in familiar construction methods while extending them into a vertical landscape. Soil and vegetation become part of the architectural assembly, aligning with H&P Architects’ broader interest in ‘agritecture’ as a way to integrate food production and living space within the city.

a vertical field of terracotta pots forms a planted facade across the full height of the house

interior spaces flooded by filtered light

Inside H&P Architects’ Flying Vegetation, the presence of the planted screen is immediate. Light enters through layers of leaves and ceramic, casting soft, irregular patterns across floors and walls. Balconies and circulation zones run alongside the facade, creating spaces where planting, movement, and rest overlap.

At ground level, a small courtyard extends the garden inward and introduces water and additional plantings. Brick surfaces are textured and tactile, while timber floors and simple furnishings keep the interiors restrained. The architecture remains quiet, which allows for the growth of plants and the passage of light to define the atmosphere.

the house faces a shared neighborhood garden, extending greenery into the urban fabric

an urban model for cultivation

Combining private living areas with spaces for tenants, the program is organized across multiple floors with shared zones on the upper levels. The house also functions as a small-scale model for urban agriculture. Residents grow and maintain plants directly on the facade, integrating everyday routines with food production and care. In a context where agricultural land continues to shrink, this approach offers a way to reintroduce cultivation into dense urban conditions, connecting inhabitants to familiar practices through the materials of soil, clay, and vegetation.

the planted screen filters sunlight, breezes, and views from the street

a steel frame system allows each pot to be accessed replaced and maintained over time

interior spaces receive softened light through layers of leaves and ceramic pots

plants are spaced to support growth, creating a breathable layer across the elevation

external corridors behind the planted screen connect living spaces with vegetation

project info:

name: Flying Vegetation

architect: H&P Architects | @hp_architects

location: Phu Xuan commune, Thai Binh city, Vietnam
design team: Doan Thanh Ha, Nguyen Hai Hue, Tran Van Duong, Luong Thi Ngoc Lan, Vu Minh Dien, Nguyen Van Thanh, Nguyen Van Thinh
completion: December 2022
photography: © Le Minh Hoang

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Archaeologists have long known that the ancient peoples of North America—not unlike us—played a lot of games. Going back millennia, cultures around the world developed myriad ways to keep entertained, and for a long time, it was thought that the first dice ever used could be traced to the ancient Eastern European and Near East cultures of Mesopotamia, the Indus Valley, and the Caucasus. But according to a new paper by Robert Madden, published by Cambridge University Press, games of chance developed much, much earlier than originally thought—halfway around the world.

Researchers previously believed that the earliest dice originated about 5,500 years ago, but Madden shares that examples excavated in North America date back as far as the Late Pleistocene—the Ice Age. Among the oldest reported examples are a few found in modern-day Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico. The rich archaeological sites in these places are associated with the Folsom Culture, representing a dispersed hunter-gatherer lifeway that extended across the North American West, Southwest, and Great Plains around 12,000 years ago.

“The dice tend to show up in liminal spaces where you have a lot of high mobility,” Madden told Live Science. “It might have something to do with how separated these people are and the need to relate to people you don’t see very often.”

In the report, Madden also says that “the making and using of dice represent humans’ first known efforts to intentionally generate, observe, and record streams of controlled, random events…” He adds that, possibly for the first time, people were comprehending patterns or regularities in probability—a kind of precursor to understanding what we now call the law of large numbers. Anthropologists consider this to be “a crucial early step in humanity’s evolving discovery and understanding of randomness and the probabilistic nature of the universe.”

Madden compared hundreds of examples found across the American West with a comprehensive, several-hundred-page publication called Games of the North American Indians, published in 1907 as part of an annual report by the Bureau of American Ethnology. It’s currently available in a two-volume edition from Bison Books.

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