This exhibition brings together practices, stories, and designs rooted in Indigenous intelligence — knowledge cultivated over centuries of living in close relationship with land, water, and community. The works on display highlight approaches grounded in reciprocity, resilience, and care, offering perspectives that contrast with extractive and colonial systems.

Projects range from matriarchal place-making and ecological governance to vernacular construction and cultural storytelling. All have been recently produced by students, PhD researchers, and educators at the Faculty of Architecture and the Built Environment.

Indigenous Intelligence invites visitors to reflect on how Indigenous knowledge can inspire future design and education. It challenges assumptions about technology and nature and explores how architecture and urbanism can shape not just spaces, but relationships between people, environments, and generations — with humility and care.

Spain’s 8,000 kilometers of coastline host diverse ecosystems, support 40% of the population, and attract millions of tourists but face severe threats from climate change, over-tourism, and urbanization. Rising sea levels could displace 1.5 million people by 2050. Urgent action is needed to integrate nature-based solutions, protect biodiversity, and ensure public access. Coastal regeneration must prioritize resilience, inclusivity, and regenerative economies, transforming coasts into spaces of coexistence, connection, and sustainability for a viable future.

Once the heart of São Paulo’s economic and cultural dynamism, the Região Central has experienced a decline since the late 20th century, as activity migrated to new areas. What remains today is a landscape of stark contrasts: an extraordinary collection of modern architecture – preserved largely due to stagnation – standing alongside hundreds of vacant or informally occupied buildings. Public spaces bear visible signs of neglect, with homelessness and crime concentrated in parts of the city’s core. [...]

Every year, millions of people travel around the world in search of relaxation and pleasure. It has been said that humans have an inherent urge to wander, that exploring unfamiliar places can enrich our lives through mental and spiritual discovery. Whether for leisure, visiting others, faith, or simply creating lasting memories, the reasons to travel are as diverse as the destinations visited.

In recent decades, tourism has become one of the most powerful forces shaping the planet. After the slowdown caused by the Covid-19 pandemic, international arrivals surged again, reaching 1.46 billion in 2024 . Today, tourism represents 11.6% of global GDP and continues to expand.

This exhibition explores the threshold where tourism slides into overtourism—where the pleasure of travel collides with it planetary and social limits. Mass tourism generates new forms of extraction and exhaustion. Sites such as Rome’s Trevi Fountain or Mount Everest have become symbols of this saturation: destinations drowning in their own appeal. Beyond questions of overcrowding, overtourism places additional strain on already fragile systems. Responsible for nearly eight percent of global carbon emissions, the tourism industry disrupts ecologies and communities, often displacing residents and sparking protest. Tourism, once celebrated as a bridge between cultures, now exposes a contradiction: it consumes what it seeks to admire.

Design plays a key role in breaking this cycle of commodification, commercialisation, exhaustion, and degradation. Rather than rejecting tourism altogether, The other tourist: designing for coexistence asks how design can help us travel differently. Through design interventions, acts of care and gestures of recalibration, design can reveal other ways hosting, moving and sharing space. The exhibition highlights projects and policies—selected and interpreted by students— that shift tourism from exploitation toward coexistence, showing how architecture and urbanism can become tools for a slower, fairer, and more responsible relationship with our planet.

The other tourist: designing for coexistence invites us to look at tourism from both sides: as travellers and as designers. The exhibition is divided in five interconnected chapters, rather than a fixed route, encouraging the viewer to wander through them intuitively. Hanging from the ceiling, the installation Measuring overtourism exposes the data behind global tourism’s expansion, translating numbers into tangible spatial realities, and is complemented by Tourism dystopia, a collage depicting overtourism’s practices and consequences in the built environment. Beneath the tribune, Histories of Hospitality revisits designs that once shaped the culture of travel. At the centre, Designing for Coexistence gathers real-life design initiatives proposing another kind of tourism, one grounded in care, slowness and shared responsibility. Finally, the postcards covering the wall in Addressing the audience turn outward, transforming awareness into action through public imagination.

This exhibition stands on the fine line between awareness and hope. It asks how to communicate the urgency, and how design can turn awareness into agency. The other Tourist: designing for coexistence displays emergency while proposing design as a practice of hope—a reminder that understanding crisis is the first step toward imagining alternatives. This is where design stands: between the world as it is, and the one still possible.

Every year, Rosario is engulfed in smoke from intentional fires across the Paraná Delta, one of South America’s largest and most biodiverse wetlands. These fires—set to clear land for cattle, crops, or speculation—have destroyed hundreds of thousands of hectares, eroding biodiversity and weakening a vital climate buffer. The consequences extend into the city, where smoke triggers health crises, school closures, and protests. Despite public pressure, Argentina still lacks a Wetlands Law, with agroindustry interests blocking reform. The burning delta exposes not only an ecological and urban emergency but also a political failure, questioning destructive models of development and coexistence.

Madrid has become a European powerhouse, attracting investment and tourism, yet faces a deepening housing crisis. Following the 2008 financial crash, abandoned neighborhoods symbolized unchecked speculation. Now, amid Spain’s economic boom, luxury property prices have surged, fueled by wealthy Latin American buyers. Rents and housing costs have skyrocketed, pricing out residents. Governance favors ultraliberal policies, with little investment in social housing. While initiatives like Cooperativa Entrepatios offer hope, widespread frustration persists, especially among younger generations. Overtourism exacerbates the crisis, highlighting the need for stronger public intervention. Will political leaders act, or is history repeating itself? [...]

Málaga, once a gateway to the Costa del Sol, has become a cautionary tale of tourist overexposure. A cultural rebranding effort—anchored by museums and pedestrian upgrades—has drawn millions, but at great cost. Local shops have been replaced by chains, neighbourhoods like Lagunillas emptied by Airbnb, and public life hollowed out. While officials now propose limits on rentals and alternative tourist routes, the social and spatial damage is deep. Spaces like La Casa Invisible offer resistance, but broader questions loom: Can Spain continue to rely on such a fragile industry? Without structural change, it’s unclear if any local life will remain.

Asuncion is a city shaped by absence—of density, continuity, and connection. While its metropolitan area sprawls outward, its historic centre stands neglected and hollowed out. With one of the lowest urban densities in Latin America, Asuncion suffers from disjointed growth, fragile housing near flood-prone areas, and stark social segregation. The centre, once the city’s core, has been abandoned rather than revived. As climate challenges intensify, continuing outward expansion becomes untenable. Reinvesting in existing urban fabric—through inclusive housing, mobility, and public space—is not nostalgic but urgent. The future of Asuncion hinges on who benefits from its transformation—and who is left behind.

A short walk in Buenos Aires reveals a stark contrast: from the self-built homes of Barrio Mujica to the polished towers of Barrio Norte. Life in Villa 31 is sustained by resilience, care, and informal networks, especially the unpaid labour of women. Though recent upgrades have improved infrastructure, deep inequalities persist—overcrowding, precarious work, and limited services. Formalization alone cannot bridge historical and social divides. True integration means valuing local knowledge, investing in care, and ensuring equal rights. Barrio Mujica stands as a space of dignity—and a reminder that the promise of a more just city remains unfinished.

The Grand Paris Express (GPE), Europe’s largest infrastructure project, aims to reshape the Paris metropolitan area with over 200 kilometres of subway lines and 68 stations. Designed to improve connectivity and catalyse urban renewal, it symbolises a monumental step towards a more integrated city. However, beneath its sleek stations lies a narrative of displacement, gentrification and fractured communities. Conceived to integrate long-neglected banlieues into the metropolis, the GPE risks unintended consequences, such as rising property values that displace residents. [...]

Visiting the Aral Sea reveals devastation beyond imagination: a vanished ecosystem, abandoned ships, and desolate salt plains. Once the world’s fourth-largest lake, it was drained after Soviet irrigation projects diverted its rivers in the 1960s, triggering one of history’s worst human-made ecological disasters. The collapse of fisheries, toxic dust storms, and regional health crises followed. While Kazakhstan’s Kok-Aral Dam and reforestation efforts have partially revived the northern basin, the recovery remains fragile. The Aral’s story exposes how extractive design reshapes the planet — drying seas here, flooding cities elsewhere — and warns of the irreversible costs of human neglect and inaction.

This compact exhibition explores how architects have historically presented their work—how they have narrated, framed, and projected architecture through books, drawings, images, websites, and film. From the first architectural publications in the Renaissance to the media platforms of today, the works trace a lineage of self-representation in architecture, and invite visitors to reflect on how architects see themselves—or how they would like to be seen.

The works on display reveal that architecture is not only practiced through building, but also through storytelling. Dissemination becomes a strategic act: a way to shape public image, to participate in broader discourse, and to claim a place in history. Whether in the form of an idealized villa, a monumental portfolio, a carbon-conscious website, or a speculative film, these acts of publishing expose something of the architect’s vision—not just of buildings, but of their own role in society.

The exhibition juxtaposes early treatises by Sebastiano Serlio and Andrea Palladio with 17th-century publications by Philips Vingboons and Jacob van Campen; the self-fashioned mythology of Frank Lloyd Wright in the Wasmuth Portfolio; and the methodical compilations of Le Corbusier’s “Oeuvre Complète”. Alongside these, contemporary formats expand the field of architectural communication: Koolhaas and Bruce Mau’s “S,M,L,XL”; Zaha Hadid’s manifestos; Norman Foster’s Foundation; the algorithmic interface of Vylder Vink’s website; La-Di-Da’s low-carbon platform; the visual grammar of Sub’s sortable thumbnail system; and selected Instagram feeds that stage architecture as performance and persona.

Also featured are the fictional geographies of Design Earth, the dense cartographies of MVRDV’s “KM3”, and the curated urbanity of Atelier Bow-Wow’s “Made in Tokyo”. A monitor screening speculative films by Liam Young adds another dimension, while projects by Andrés Jaque, Teddy Cruz and Fonna Forman, Léopold Lambert, and Studio Folder further expand the figure of the architect—as editor, activist, researcher, and storyteller.

Drawn from the Trésor Collection of TU Delft and complemented by reproductions and digital interfaces, this exhibition highlights how dissemination has always been integral to architectural practice—not only to make architecture visible, but to help it evolve. To publish is to design one’s own reception. To share work is to propose a vision of the future.

Lusail, Qatar’s ambitious new city north of Doha, aims to showcase modernity, sustainability, and global connectivity. Designed for over 450,000 residents, it features luxury towers, public spaces, and smart city technologies. Yet, questions linger about its social integration, environmental impact, and community life. Built on reclaimed land, Lusail faces challenges like marine ecosystem disruption and reliance on energy-intensive systems. Its grandeur risks overshadowing inclusivity, raising concerns about becoming a display of wealth rather than a lived-in city. Lusail’s future hinges on balancing its vision with social and environmental realities.

The 2024 Diriyah Contemporary Art Biennale, titled After Rain, explores themes of renewal and transformation through global artistic expression. Held in Riyadh’s revitalized JAX District, the event addresses urgent issues like climate change, migration, and political unrest while reflecting Saudi Arabia's cultural and social shifts under Vision 2030. A standout piece, Women of Riyadh by Christine Fenzl, challenges norms with intimate portraits of Saudi women, symbolizing broader societal changes. The biennale exemplifies the potential for art to influence local contexts while integrating Saudi Arabia into the global cultural discourse.

Riyadh, a sprawling car-centric city, faces challenges of rapid urbanization, traffic congestion, and limited public greenspaces amid a growing population projected to reach 10 million by 2030. Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman's Vision 2030 aims to address these issues through transformative projects like a 176-kilometer metro network, King Salman Park, and Green Riyadh, which will plant 75 million trees. While investments in infrastructure and green spaces promise a more livable city, true transformation requires shifts in mindset, encouraging residents to embrace density, public life, and sustainable urban living. Small, community-driven initiatives like Diriyah’s Shamalat Cultural Center highlight the potential for localized change.

In Aboriginal culture, "country" embodies a deep spiritual and cultural connection to the land, integral to the Wurundjeri and Boon Wurrung peoples of the Kulin Nation. As Melbourne’s suburban sprawl accelerates, integrating Indigenous values into urbanism becomes increasingly vital. While projects like Nightingale Village and landmarks such as the William Barak Tower acknowledge this heritage, they highlight tensions between cultural respect and commercial priorities. Moving forward, embedding Indigenous knowledge into planning and design is essential—not just as a symbol, but as a guide for sustainable, inclusive urban growth in a changing climate.

Cranes, towers, infrastructure, plazas, parks, hotels, rooftops and cocktail bars; Skanderbeg, star architects, international competitions, developers and a Bentley; 2030, Europe, NATO, the next Vienna, the new Belgrade, and the next city-state; tourists, beaches, an airport and Airbnb. Albania’s capital Tirana has undergone a metamorphosis in recent years. The cityscape is being reshaped with the roll-out of infrastructure projects and old buildings making way for high-rises. Is this rapid urban development what progress, modernisation and “Europeanisation” are about? Does it come at the cost of erasing Tirana’s memory? Gentrification, displacement and inequality are denounced by some as too high a price to pay for this regeneration. […]

This exhibition reflects our commitment to integrating art into the Faculty’s Public Programs. This time, we have chosen to explore the theme of intimacy, departing from the conventional link between art and urbanism. While art interventions in the public realm, particularly common in architectural education, hold undeniable value, we also recognize the importance of exploring alternative paths for design to interact with art, ones that extend beyond architectural practice itself.

Intimacy is a concept that transcends mere secrecy or personal depth. Rather, it can be seen as a form of communication that not only includes but also requires a sense of community.

Sharing intimacies showcases the works of five diverse artists, all with backgrounds in architecture, each sharing a perspective on intimacy in its various forms, bringing a distinct spatial sensibility to their exploration of the self. The power of human connection, the relationship between body and identity, the importance of empathy, and the transformative potential of sharing stories are central themes that resonate throughout the exhibition.

Together, Emin Batman, Elia Castino, Zemen Ariane Schaper, Harley Swedler, and Alicia Velázquez offer a rich array of human emotion and experience. Through their diverse mediums and personal perspectives, they invite visitors to explore intimacy and its complexities. From contemplating the essence of space and existence to challenging perceptions of the human body, exploring the raw realities of tragedy and loss, celebrating the beauty of imperfection and uniqueness, their works intertwine to create personal explorations into human connection, vulnerability, and resilience.

Sharing intimacies is the result of a collaboration between BK-Public Programs and the TU Delft Library, aiming at disseminating artistic practices beyond the walls of our Faculty, extending the appreciation of art to all members of our University.

In May 2024, torrential rains devastated Porto Alegre, displacing thousands and exposing deep socio-economic and environmental vulnerabilities. Wealthy neighborhoods on higher ground fared better, while low-lying communities suffered severe losses. The Guaíba River, once a symbol of natural harmony, now underscores the urgency of addressing climate impacts. Grassroots initiatives and civic activism have emerged, reflecting the resilience of residents. Rebuilding Porto Alegre offers a chance to rethink urban design, integrating climate-resilient infrastructure, equity, and nature-based solutions to create an inclusive, adaptive city ready for future challenges.

The Strait of Gibraltar, a 13-kilometer passage linking the Atlantic and Mediterranean, is a nexus of ecological, economic, and geopolitical flows. It supports vital ecosystems, migratory species, and global shipping routes, while hosting a complex interplay of nations, including Spain, Morocco, Gibraltar (UK), and emerging powers like China.

Tangier, the region's focal point, is transforming through projects like the Tanger-Med Port, Africa’s first high-speed railway, and waterfront developments, solidifying its role as an industrial and tourism hub. Yet, beneath its global ambitions lies a web of local stories and socio-ecological challenges, reflecting the strait’s dual identity as a space of both global significance and local resilience.