Articles by Paul Yakubu

India recently overtook its sub-continental neighbor, China, to become the most populous country in the world with a demography of over 1.4286 billion people. As data from the United Nations also estimates an annual population growth rate of 0.7%, the country’s built environment is set to interact with a new discourse of demography and present its own perspective on how to build for billions. It is set to engage with new challenges of infrastructure, transportation, and adequate housing, which on the surface will force cities to constantly expand as a response to these dynamic needs. However, a critical look at the population distribution within the country reveals that the majority of Indians still live in rural areas as it caters to 65% of the population despite increasing rural-urban migration. This suggests a nudge in a different direction. One where the design and development of the rural areas take precedence over the cities. One that explores architecture in rural areas, its relationship with the cities, and its future as a primary framework to house the exploding population.

As one takes a visual tour through the city, one might spot structures that break the rhythm of finished architectural products. These are buildings encased in grids of metal or wooden sections, sometimes wrapped in colored nets, that communicate a moment of construction, repair, renovation, or demolition. They are called scaffolding systems, temporary structures built in the city to aid in the erection or maintenance of buildings. However, they have evolved to speak their own architectural language. As city-making is a continuous process, scaffolds serve as beacons, proposing silhouettes of the height, shape, or forms of new buildings. They step into the sidewalks, acting as shade or obstructions to the flow of human and vehicular traffic. In contrast to the permanence of architecture, they exhibit a sense of temporality that helps communicate time, the growth of neighborhoods, and the evolution of a city.

In the south of Burkina Faso, sharing borders with the northern environs of Ghana is Tiébélé; a small village exhibiting fractal patterns of circular and rectangular buildings, housing one of the oldest ethnic groups in West Africa; the Kassena tribe. With vernacular houses dating back to the 15th century, the village’s buildings strike a distinctive character through its symbol-laden painted walls. It is an architecture of wall decoration where the community uses their building envelope as a canvas for geometric shapes and symbols of local folklore, expressing the culture’s history and unique heritage. This architecture is the product of a unique form of communal collaboration, where all men and women in the community are tasked with contributing to the construction and finishing of any new house. This practice serves as a transmission point for Kassena culture across generations.

Land reclamation from the sea has become a popular phenomenon in coastal development. It is the most preferred solution to the need for land in coastal areas and has been implemented for various use cases, including flood control and agriculture. Nowadays, it has become a famous urban response to the rapid increase in coastal urbanization, economic activity, and global population. Countries like China and the Netherlands lead the chart on the amount of land area reclaimed. However, most reclamation projects today take place within urban centers in the global south. Cities in West Africa, East Asia, and the Middle East produce these new lands as economic forerunners for their commercial industry and as platforms to house luxury residences.

As you make your way through the symphony of wooden colonnades, leafy screen walls, and unfurled roofing, towards the converging veins of flooring and ceiling ribs leading to the light, it feels like a space that was always meant to be there. Part of the park, the pavilion complements the nature around it, reflecting its patterns, and illuminates a main interior feature: a concentric set of tables and stools that inspire people to sit at the moment, hold conversations, and connect with each other. This narrative tells the tale of this year’s Serpentine Pavilion, designed by French-Lebanese architect Lina Ghotmeh.

Fractals are complex geometric shapes with fractional dimensional properties. They have emerged as swirling patterns within the frontiers of mathematics, information technology, and computer graphics. Over the last 30 years, these patterns have also become important modeling tools in other fields, including biology, geology, and other natural sciences. However, fractals have existed far beyond the birth of computers, and have been observed by anthropologists in indigenous African societies. One of which is Ron Eglash; an American scientist who presents the evidence of fractals in the architecture, art, textile sculpture, and religion of indigenous African societies. In his book, “African Fractals: Modern Computing and indigenous design”, the fractals in African societies are not simply accidental or intuitive but are design themes that evolve from cultural practices and societal structures.

As Venice Architecture Biennale presents its 18th edition titled “The Laboratory of the Future“, it centers on Africa as a place of exploration that will offer a template for solutions to the world. According to its curator Lesley Lokko, the Biennale explores entrenched concepts such as climate, land rights, decolonization, and cultures. It challenges us to question how Africa’s history can be a radical tool for imagination and reminds us of Stephen Covey’s statement: “Live out of your imagination, not just your history.” The biennale’s title is probably the most ambitious question in years. It forces us to revisit all boundaries of the continent’s historical societies, explore the influence of imposed colonial borders on them, and examine the dual identities they gave birth to. We must consider how these identities can be instruments of creativity, and, more importantly, recognize that every African society has a unique point of view. This viewpoint yearns for cross-cultural collaboration as a powerful tool for imagination.

Highway interchanges have evolved from important infrastructures that help distribute traffic to unique landmarks that define cities. As multiple road networks embrace and form distinctive sculptures, these road intersections range from singular bridge connections and roundabouts to numerous, layered and multi-layered interchanges. They twist, turn, loop, and wrap around sparse land, vegetation, or existing structures in a bid to transfer travelers from one roadway to another. However, they also create a moment of enclosure, forming partially bounded areas and a sense of space. These spaces could be viewed as liminal and transitional, with no fixed typology able to be hosted. But that blurring character calls for ideas of urban intervention to disrupt the notion of what these spaces can be. They can be readapted from car-dominant sculptures into more human-friendly places and re-integrated as extended schemes of the city’s architecture.

Located in the southern part of Benin-Republic, near the port city of Cotonou, is Ganvie; the largest floating village in Africa. It is situated in the middle of Lake Nokoué and is characterized by colorful wooden stilt houses arranged around artificial islands dating back to the 17th century.

Minimaforms Presents The Order of Time at the Architectural Association School of Architecture Gallery. It is an immersive installation aimed to connect the preoccupations of physics, art, and architecture by revealing the ordering of spaces and constructed relationships through direct experience.