In the ancient Greek society, eunomia outlined how things should be in an ideal society.
Aristotle once said, “Those who know, do. Those who understand, teach.” Shamsul Wares understood, and hence taught.
FCC should not be viewed simply as one of the cadet colleges; it is a heritage campus that can be showcased to the world.
Dhaka should be readied for a nighttime culture that offers a potpourri of entertainment options to people.
The status city often serves the privileged, while the huddling masses eke out a minimal existence
Our brains are being reprogrammed to look for the easiest solutions to our most vexing social and political questions.
Our experience of designing Brac regional offices across rural Bangladesh.
After completing his Bachelor of Architecture degree at the University of Oregon, Eugene, in June 1952, the 29-year-old Muzharul Islam (1923-2012) returned home to find a postcolonial Pakistan embroiled in acrimonious politics of national identity.
As the novel coronavirus known as Covid-19 spreads rapidly across the world, we now face another dimension of the “globalisation and its discontents” argument.
I first met Sir Fazle Hasan Abed in 2012 at an invitation-only meeting in Washington, DC.
As part of a class assignment last semester a group of architecture students asked me a question: what makes a city inspiring?
If you are passing by Farmgate, you are most likely to notice a boxy brick building at the intersection of Airport Road and Khamar Bari Road.
At a public place in the afterlife, Louis Kahn ran into Le Corbusier. The Franco-Swiss architect was pleased to see the esoteric architect/guru from Philadelphia.
I have long wondered why cities in Bangladesh don’t have vibrant, dedicated public places or squares, in the sense of Taksim Square in Istanbul, Trafalgar Square in London,
Population density in cities like Dhaka and Chattogram is daunting.
Hope is high that when Metro Rail Transit (MRT) finally arrives in Dhaka, the capital city’s legendary traffic congestion will ease off.
The other day I was going from Chattogram to my ancestral village in the Chandanish upazila, located about 40km southeast from the city centre. As soon as I crossed the Karnafuli River a common scene along the road began to haunt me. Felled trees were stacked up on both sides of the road, to be processed locally or transported to lumber mills on the outskirts of cities. The continuity of the spectacle revealed the enormity of scale in tree cutting. It felt as if a full-scale war on nature—a kind of “ecocide”—was going on.
The clandestine demolition of Jahaj Bari in Old Dhaka on the night of Eid-ul-Fitr reveals the precarious state of historic preservation in Bangladesh.
