Redefining Home in the Digital Era

I caught myself walking towards the bank and then the grocery store completely unconcerned and disinterested in the physical things happening around me. Why should I stare at people passing by or the person waiting outside their store, who is checking out my distinctly foreign style? The happenings around me seem totally—what's the word for it—normal.

Perhaps the screen feels like a refuge from the ordinary, and the worst thing, for me at least, is living and witnessing a mundane, everyday life. The screens—my phone and my laptop—besides the frequent mindless entertainment on them, showcase extreme achievements of people, the epitome of productivity. And I want to be inspired by that.

But then I wonder, if I spend most of my time looking at a screen, what is the value of the physical environment that is dominated by architecture? If my attention is almost completely captured by the screen, my mind is preoccupied and reacting to events happening in 2D, but not to the banal things around me in three dimensions.

There has been a growing trend, the dismissal of the physical world, and over-reliance on a mind diving into the ultra-thin and "smart" phone and laptop screens. With that, does architecture in the traditional sense matter as much as it used to? In other words, how has digital transformation and dependency had an impact on physical spaces when screens mediate our access to information, entertainment, and social networks?

If society increasingly prioritizes digital interactions over physical presence and engagement with the built environment, architecture could undergo significant shifts and challenges.

"Spaces and their functions are changing due to digitalization. As architects, we must be keen observers to translate these changes into the physical environment for flexible adaptation," said Katharina Buseinus, an architect from Hamburg, Germany, with a large online following who consistently shares her passion for the profession.

Buildings and public spaces may need to be reimagined to accommodate reduced physical foot traffic and increased digital connectivity. This could mean less emphasis on traditional gathering spaces and more focus on integrating technology for remote interactions, a trend that has already been observed with the rise of social media platforms and their extensions.

The aesthetic preferences of architectural design may evolve to reflect digital culture. Buildings might incorporate elements that resonate with digital interfaces or virtual environments, potentially influencing materials, textures, and visual styles. This is clearly witnessed in modern cities such as Tokyo in many of its districts.

Walking in Tokyo, it feels like buildings with screens are so numerous, it's as if our smartphones have projected themselves (puked, in a vulgar sense) onto the cityscape.

Shinjuku District in Tokyo

Shinjuku District in Tokyo

Dotonbori, Osaka

"But traditional architecture still matters. Physical spaces play a crucial role in our well-being, social interactions, and cultural expression, which screens cannot fully replace," said Vlada Koch, an architect and interior designer with a considerable online following, based between Switzerland and Germany.

Architecture plays a crucial role in preserving cultural heritage and identity. If digital interactions dominate, efforts to maintain and protect physical landmarks and historical sites may become even more critical to safeguard cultural diversity and heritage.

 Architectural landmarks often serve as iconic symbols of identity for cities and regions. They contribute to a sense of place, nurturing a shared sense of belonging among residents.

If glass, aluminum panels, and screens dominate, then where do we belong? What becomes our identity? Where are we from and where does our locality lie?

Without a cultural identity and community roots expressed through materiality and forms in architecture, a more homogenized and globalized architectural landscape becomes our mirror. But then if that architectural landscape is all glass, then what does it reflect? It reflects nothing at all, and our identity vanishes.

Machu Picchu in Peru, an ancient Incan city nestled high in the Andes mountains, showcases sophisticated stone masonry and terraced agriculture that harmonize with its natural surroundings. It reflects the ingenuity and spiritual beliefs of the Inca civilization.

The Guggenheim Museum Bilbao in Spain, designed by Frank Gehry, though not a perfect example, is renowned for its innovative use of titanium and glass. It reflects the industrial and maritime heritage of Bilbao, revitalizing the city and becoming a symbol of its cultural identity.

The Guggenheim Museum Bilbao in Spain

The Sagrada Família in Barcelona, Spain, Antoni Gaudí's masterpiece, blends Gothic and Art Nouveau styles with organic forms inspired by nature. It serves as a symbol of Barcelona's artistic and religious heritage, deeply rooted in Catalan culture.

The Sagrada Família in Barcelona, Spain

The Great Mosque of Djenné in Mali is one of the largest adobe buildings in the world and a UNESCO World Heritage site. Its traditional Sudanese architecture, with mud-brick walls and wooden beams, reflects the local architectural heritage and Islamic culture of the region. The mosque is not only a place of worship but also a symbol of community identity and craftsmanship in Djenné, Mali.

The Great Mosque of Djenné in Mali

There is hope in preserving and celebrating our unique architectural heritage. By thoughtfully integrating traditional materials and designs with modern innovations, we can create spaces that honor our past while embracing the future. Architects and designers have the opportunity to craft environments that reflect the distinct character and values of their communities. Through intentional design, we can ensure that our built environments continue to tell the rich, diverse stories of our cultural identities, fostering a deeper connection to the places we call home.