This Red House Buried in a Czech Forest Is the Opposite of Every Forest Home You’ve Ever Seen

Deep in the spruce forests of Jevany, a municipality of barely 800 people in the Czech Republic’s Central Bohemian Region, a flash of cherry red cuts through the trees. This is Villa Jevany, a new residence by local studio Architektura, and it has absolutely no interest in blending in. Where most forest homes default to timber, stone, and muted tones, Architektura went the other way entirely, dressing the structure in saturated red steel and calling it exactly what it is: a deliberate, uncompromising act of contrast.

The site itself set the terms. The plot spans a generous 3,027 square meters on a steep southern slope, inhabited by deer, birds, and mature trees that tower up to ten meters above the building level. Architektura responded by carving the villa into the hillside rather than placing it on top, creating a structure the studio describes as an “organism” embedded in the earth. The red steel skeleton, visible in the sawtooth carport roof from the moment of arrival, signals that this is industrial thinking applied to domestic life, and it doesn’t apologize for it.

Designer: Architektura

The colour choice is rooted in theory as much as instinct. Architektura used green and red as complementary colors, a logic borrowed from the colour wheel and, more pointedly, from abstract art. The irregularly divided glazing across the façade draws a quiet reference to Mondrian, the rhythmic geometry of the windows creating a visual tension against the organic verticality of the trees behind them. From the road, the house reads almost like a painting hung in the forest. From the inside, the forest becomes the painting.

Internally, the layout unfolds across five distinct levels. The entrance opens into a hall with a 3.5-meter ceiling height, where a curved wall guides visitors into the main living space, or what the architects call the “day zone.” Here, industrial red steel windows frame the surrounding green; white walls meet black details; reddish stone counters anchor the kitchen alongside a floating steel fireplace. It’s a space of deliberate contrasts, domestic in function and raw in feeling.

The private quarters, reached through a long corridor lined with minimalist white cabinetry, are stripped of excess. The parents’ suite and children’s rooms are quiet and restrained, a counterpoint to the drama of the exterior. Terraces and balconies extend the living area into the canopy itself, turning the house into what Architektura intended all along: not just a place to live, but a place to look.

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Mud, Microbes, and the 46 m² Lab the Amazon Needed

Most of us picture a laboratory as a sleek, sterile box of steel and glass perched on a university campus or inside some tech park. The Witoca Laboratory in Ecuador is none of those things. Built from adobe, shaped like a three-pointed star, and sitting quietly inside the buffer zone of the Sumaco Biosphere Reserve in the Ecuadorian Amazon, it looks less like a lab and more like something that grew out of the ground. Which, in a way, it did.

The building was designed by Ecuadorian studio Al Borde Arquitectos and completed in February 2025 in Huaticocha, a remote community in the Provincia de Orellana. At just 46 square metres (about 495 square feet), it is compact to the point of being almost modest. But modesty is somewhat deceptive here, because the thinking behind it is anything but small.

Designer: Al Borde

The Witoca community, which gives the lab its name, has been working to protect the Amazon’s coffee and cocoa farming from pests. Rather than reaching for chemical pesticides, they have gone in the opposite direction, cultivating antagonistic microorganisms that naturally discourage pest damage. The lab is where that cultivation happens. It is a biosecure environment, meaning it is fully sealed to prevent contamination, and every design decision feeds into that purpose, from its vaulted adobe walls to its airtight interior.

Adobe is not a material most people associate with scientific research, and I think that contrast is exactly what makes this project so compelling. Al Borde chose to work with local soil, using a vaulted construction technique built without formwork, developed in collaboration with structural engineer Patricio Cevallos of the Red PROTERRA network. The vault system draws on techniques rooted in Bolivian adobe construction, adapted here to meet the specific technical demands of a biosecure facility. It is a genuinely rare thing to see ancient building logic serving a cutting-edge scientific function, and Al Borde pulls it off without making either element feel like a compromise.

The Y-shaped plan is another smart move. Each arm of the structure radiates outward from a central point, giving the building a form that feels both purposeful and organic, like something that belongs in the landscape rather than imposed on it. That relationship to place is one of the things Al Borde is consistently good at, and Witoca Lab is a strong example of their approach to what architecture can actually do for a community.

And that community dimension is hard to overstate. The lab is not a vanity project or a showpiece for outside visitors. It exists because the Witoca people needed a way to take a more active, autonomous role in protecting their land and their livelihoods. The project was commissioned by Witoca and supported by CEFA Ecuador, the Italian-Ecuadorian Fund for Sustainable Development, and the Alstom Foundation. That kind of multi-layer collaboration is often messy in practice, but the result here suggests it worked.

There is a broader conversation in architecture right now about what “sustainable” really means, and too often it gets reduced to solar panels and LEED certifications. Witoca Lab asks a different and, I’d argue, more honest question: what does it mean to build something that is genuinely of its place, for the people who live there, using what the land provides? Not every project needs to be on the cover of a design magazine to matter. But Witoca Lab deserves to be.

We spend a lot of time celebrating architecture that is visually dramatic or technically ambitious, and rightly so. But the work that tends to stay with me is the kind where the building quietly solves a real problem for a real community, and where the form and the function feel like they arrived at the same answer at the same time. Witoca Lab is that kind of work. It is made of mud. It is full of microbes. And it might be one of the most intelligent buildings completed this year.

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This Leaf-Like Tool Turns Everyday Walks Into Small Acts of Care for Hidden Lives

We have all heard the phrases “Don’t litter.” “Stop global warming.” They appear on posters, billboards, campaigns, and packaging, repeated so often that they begin to blur into background noise. While the intention behind them is urgent and necessary, the language of sustainability has become heavy and exhausting. It often asks people to think at a global scale, to feel responsible for enormous systems that feel far beyond individual control. Over time, this can create distance instead of motivation. But what if sustainability did not begin with fixing the entire planet? What if it started with noticing the small lives right beneath our feet?

LIVIO is a project that reimagines sustainability through small, meaningful actions rooted in everyday experience. On walking trails, mountain paths, sidewalks, and parks, countless tiny creatures move through human spaces each day. Snails, insects, and other small beings navigate these environments quietly, often crossing paths with people who never notice them. It is not uncommon to find these creatures accidentally crushed by footsteps, bikes, or shoes. These moments are brief and easy to overlook, yet they represent lives lost simply because we were not paying attention.

Designer: Subin Kim

The goal of LIVIO is to protect those small lives and to make care feel possible for more people. While many individuals want to help, touching insects or snails directly can feel uncomfortable or even frightening. Fear, hesitation, or disgust often becomes a barrier between intention and action. LIVIO addresses this gap by offering a gentle and thoughtful tool that allows people to help without direct contact.

If you come across a small creature in crisis, LIVIO gives you a simple way to respond. The tool is designed to feel calm and intuitive rather than technical or intimidating. There are two tool types, each responding to different environmental conditions. In areas with little soil, the tongs allow careful and precise movement. In places where soil is present, the shovel tool lets users scoop the creature together with the surrounding ground, preserving its immediate habitat and reducing harm.

A defining aspect of LIVIO is how the tool is completed. Rather than being fully manufactured, it is finished using fallen branches found in nature. By reducing the amount of silicone used as its main material, the tool becomes even more environmentally conscious. The act of finding and attaching branches transforms the experience from simple use into participation. It encourages users to slow down, observe their surroundings, and engage physically with the environment. Sustainability becomes something playful and personal rather than distant or moralizing.

LIVIO also exists as a shared public resource. Tool stations can be installed on street trees, lamp posts, or along walking paths. Their leaf-like form blends naturally into the environment, making them feel like part of the landscape rather than an intrusion. These stations quietly invite curiosity and care, reminding people that small actions matter.

In the end, LIVIO suggests a different way to think about sustainability. Not as a burden, but as a series of small, human moments of attention and empathy. By protecting the smallest lives around us, sustainability becomes more real, more approachable, and even a little more joyful. Sometimes, meaningful change begins not with grand gestures, but with simply noticing what is right in front of us.

The post This Leaf-Like Tool Turns Everyday Walks Into Small Acts of Care for Hidden Lives first appeared on Yanko Design.

This Leaf-Like Tool Turns Everyday Walks Into Small Acts of Care for Hidden Lives

We have all heard the phrases “Don’t litter.” “Stop global warming.” They appear on posters, billboards, campaigns, and packaging, repeated so often that they begin to blur into background noise. While the intention behind them is urgent and necessary, the language of sustainability has become heavy and exhausting. It often asks people to think at a global scale, to feel responsible for enormous systems that feel far beyond individual control. Over time, this can create distance instead of motivation. But what if sustainability did not begin with fixing the entire planet? What if it started with noticing the small lives right beneath our feet?

LIVIO is a project that reimagines sustainability through small, meaningful actions rooted in everyday experience. On walking trails, mountain paths, sidewalks, and parks, countless tiny creatures move through human spaces each day. Snails, insects, and other small beings navigate these environments quietly, often crossing paths with people who never notice them. It is not uncommon to find these creatures accidentally crushed by footsteps, bikes, or shoes. These moments are brief and easy to overlook, yet they represent lives lost simply because we were not paying attention.

Designer: Subin Kim

The goal of LIVIO is to protect those small lives and to make care feel possible for more people. While many individuals want to help, touching insects or snails directly can feel uncomfortable or even frightening. Fear, hesitation, or disgust often becomes a barrier between intention and action. LIVIO addresses this gap by offering a gentle and thoughtful tool that allows people to help without direct contact.

If you come across a small creature in crisis, LIVIO gives you a simple way to respond. The tool is designed to feel calm and intuitive rather than technical or intimidating. There are two tool types, each responding to different environmental conditions. In areas with little soil, the tongs allow careful and precise movement. In places where soil is present, the shovel tool lets users scoop the creature together with the surrounding ground, preserving its immediate habitat and reducing harm.

A defining aspect of LIVIO is how the tool is completed. Rather than being fully manufactured, it is finished using fallen branches found in nature. By reducing the amount of silicone used as its main material, the tool becomes even more environmentally conscious. The act of finding and attaching branches transforms the experience from simple use into participation. It encourages users to slow down, observe their surroundings, and engage physically with the environment. Sustainability becomes something playful and personal rather than distant or moralizing.

LIVIO also exists as a shared public resource. Tool stations can be installed on street trees, lamp posts, or along walking paths. Their leaf-like form blends naturally into the environment, making them feel like part of the landscape rather than an intrusion. These stations quietly invite curiosity and care, reminding people that small actions matter.

In the end, LIVIO suggests a different way to think about sustainability. Not as a burden, but as a series of small, human moments of attention and empathy. By protecting the smallest lives around us, sustainability becomes more real, more approachable, and even a little more joyful. Sometimes, meaningful change begins not with grand gestures, but with simply noticing what is right in front of us.

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These Nest-Like Pods Show Prefab Architecture Doesn’t Have To Look Prefab

Nestled within China’s Senbo Amusement Parks, a new architectural vision is taking root. The Forest Nests Treepod Project by Doarchiwow challenges everything we thought we knew about modular construction, transforming prefabricated building into an art form that breathes with its surroundings. These aren’t your childhood treehouses. Each dwelling rises from the landscape like a sculptural organism, its steel skeleton wrapped in layers of wood shingles, weathering steel, aluminum, and glass.

The genius lies in how these materials work together, creating structures that feel less constructed and more cultivated. They could be oversized cocoons suspended in time or nests woven by some mythical creature. What they don’t look like are typical modular buildings, and that’s entirely the point. Doarchiwow, a subsidiary of DO Architects specializing in high-quality prefabricated systems, spent years developing this concept. Design work began in 2021, with the 441.92-square-meter project finally completing in 2025 across two locations in Rizhao, Shandong and Wuhan, Hubei.

Designer: Doarchiwow

Step inside and the experience shifts. Smart home systems and digital networks handle the technical side while floor-to-ceiling glass opens up views of the canopy. The interior curves follow those same organic lines from the exterior. It’s surprisingly spacious for a micro-living unit. Doarchiwow was trying to solve a tricky problem here: how do you mass-produce something that still feels custom? The standardized shell allows for efficient construction, but the spaces inside feel tailored. The pods work as individual retreats while functioning as part of a larger network.

The sustainability angle goes deeper than surface-level green building tactics. Tang Jiajia, Wang Wenrui, and Jiang Hong led a design team that built a three-part environmental strategy into the project. Passive design, active environmental tech, and construction methods that respond to microclimate conditions. Prefabrication keeps ground disturbance minimal. Material waste drops. On-site labor requirements shrink. Each pod essentially runs as its own environmental system, capable of adjusting to different settings and weather patterns.

That adaptability matters because this model could theoretically pop up anywhere. Urban green spaces, protected natural areas, coastal zones, mountain forests. The fluid shapes refuse to look out of place, which is rare for modular buildings. Most prefab structures announce themselves loudly. These ones settle in quietly. It’s a replicable approach that doesn’t require starting from scratch each time.

Doarchiwow seems interested in changing how we think about vacation spaces and construction methods at the same time. They’re targeting boutique resorts, high-end campsites, rural tourism markets. Forest Nests makes the case that prefab doesn’t mean compromising on design or environmental responsibility. You can have efficiency and beauty. The structures prove it’s possible to build quickly without bulldozing the site or creating eyesores. Whether this becomes a widespread model remains to be seen, but it’s a compelling direction for sustainable resort development.

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These Elevated Timber Treehouses Transform A Chinese Forest Into A Living Art Gallery

Deep in Wuhan’s Dongxihu District, there’s a metasequoia forest where migratory birds gather, and something extraordinary has taken root among the ancient trees. Secret Camp isn’t your typical forest retreat. This collaboration between United Investment Merryda Hotel Management Group and Wiki World has created something that feels part accommodation, part art installation, and entirely magical. More than a dozen treehouses rise through the canopy on Cihui Street, each one carefully positioned so that not a single existing tree was harmed in the process.

The whole project sprang from Wiki World’s Wiki Building School initiative, which sounds academic but is really about pushing the boundaries of how we live alongside nature. Each treehouse has its own personality and tells a different story. Time Machine gleams with futuristic silver that catches sunlight through the leaves. Nomadic Land feels like a cozy capsule for temporary wanderers. Playground brings out your inner child with circulation paths that weave playfully around branches. Then there’s Daydream, which uses mirrored cladding to virtually disappear into the forest, and Red Windmill, standing bold and bright as a beacon in the green canopy. Unicorn takes the vertical route with its loft design and silver panels that hint at mythical stories.

Designer: United Investment Merryda Hotel Management Group & Wiki World

What makes this place special isn’t just the whimsical names or striking designs. The creators drew inspiration directly from the forest itself – local birds, scattered seeds, the organic forms that nature creates without any human input. Every structure sits on elevated timber platforms, leaving the forest floor completely untouched. No paved paths, no manicured landscaping, just the raw beauty of the woodland ecosystem doing what it does best. This approach embodies Wiki World’s “Build Small, Dream Big” philosophy, proving that you can live comfortably without dominating your environment.

But Secret Camp goes beyond just providing a place to sleep among the trees. It transforms the entire forest into an open-air gallery where art happens naturally. Throughout the year, temporary installations pop up, workshops gather creative minds, and exhibitions celebrate the relationship between humans and wildlife. The Forest Reception becomes a buzzing hub where visitors make birdhouses, study natural materials, and participate in projects that blur the lines between accommodation and education. There’s even a Sino-French Construction Festival that brings together people passionate about sustainable building and small-scale living.

The technical side reveals just how seriously they take environmental responsibility. Every structure uses glued laminated timber that’s digitally modeled for precision, then prefabricated off-site to minimize forest disruption during construction. The modular design centers around a clever 2-meter-wide concept that allows for variation while keeping efficiency high. Hand-fired carbonized wood panels give each cabin its natural finish and weather resistance, while small metal joints make everything completely reversible – these treehouses could be disassembled and moved without leaving a trace.

This elevated approach means zero ground contact and zero artificial landscaping, letting the forest maintain its natural rhythms while humans get to experience life in the canopy. Secret Camp proves that sustainable tourism doesn’t have to mean roughing it or compromising on creativity. Instead, it shows how thoughtful design can actually enhance natural settings, creating spaces that engage all your senses while treading incredibly lightly on the earth. It’s accommodation that makes you more aware of the environment, not less.

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Concrete house lets you live in the middle of the forest

Having lived in a city all my life, I’m used to waking up in the morning, looking out the window, and seeing nothing but buildings. So of course it’s my dream that one day, I’d be able to live in a place where I am surrounded by nature but still have the conveniences of “civilization”. We’re seeing a lot of house concepts right now where all you need to do is step out of your front door or sometimes even just look out your window and you’re one with nature.

Designer: Pérez Palacios Arquitectos Asociados

One such house is Copas, a contemporary and minimalist concrete house located in the forests of Valle de Brava in Mexico so you get the best view of nature from your window and especially from the rooftop terrace, where you feel like you’re part of the forest. The colors of the house are similar to the tree trunks and rock formations that surround it. The overall design of the house gives you the impression like you’re climbing a mountain.

The private bedrooms on the lower level has glazing that frames the forest while the kitchen, dining room, and the lounge space also give a beautiful view of the surrounding woodlands. The terrace on the roof extends towards the trees while the swimming pool on the higher volume is the perfect way to cap off a relaxing day in your abode.

The two-volume house is integrated into the slope so there’s not much excavation that will disturb the surroundings. The house has also different finishes to complement the concrete look, including wood furniture, natural rugs and fabrics so you get an even cozier feeling. This is such an interesting house to live in especially if you’re sick and tired of the concrete jungle.

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Spirituality and Sustainable Innovation Unite in Architectural Splendor at the MycoTemple

In a world marked by rapid urbanization and the relentless march of concrete and steel, a unique sanctuary has emerged, standing as a testament to the power of spirituality and sustainable innovation. Côme Di Meglio’s MycoTemple is a transformative living structure that harnesses the astonishing capabilities of mycelium, creating a biodegradable domed space for physical and spiritual transformation.

Designer: Côme Di Meglio

At first glance, MycoTemple is a marvel of art and architecture, a five-meter-wide domed structure that seems to rise from the Earth itself. However, what truly sets it apart is its construction material: mycelium, the intricate underground network of fungi that has the remarkable ability to grow structures. Concealed within this mycelium marvel is a hand-carved wooden structure, hidden from view and only revealed as the mycelium gradually biodegrades over time, returning to the soil from where it came.

Stepping into MycoTemple is like stepping into another realm. Its thick, mycelium-based walls insulate visitors from the clamor of the outside world, creating a serene cocoon of tranquility. Within the semi-darkness, one becomes enveloped by an intriguing material, rich in textures and colors. Some areas feel rough, reminiscent of minerals, while others are soft and velvety, akin to the gentle touch of skin. Every square centimeter is a microscopic landscape meant to be explored, contemplated, and caressed. The immersive scent of the underwood establishes an intimate connection between visitors and the environment, enhancing the sensory experience.

The sensory immersion within this living organism, crafted into an architectural wonder, triggers a heightened state of awareness and a profound sense of presence. MycoTemple invites us to delve deep within ourselves, tapping into something primal and ancient that resides within each of us.

Beyond its artistic and architectural allure, MycoTemple serves a higher purpose as a space designed to foster a diverse range of collective experiences and communal events. It is a place for gatherings, concerts, and quiet moments of contemplation. Di Meglio envisions the dome as a vessel for emotions and dreams, and he notes, “All the emotions and dreams birthed in the dome will nurture this porous material.”

More than just a space for individual introspection, MycoTemple is designed to nurture our essential connection to the living world. It also serves as a place to strengthen our bonds with others. The shape of the dome itself harks back to ancestral dwellings, reminiscent of the caves where early humans sought shelter from external dangers. It’s a form that has been embraced by countless cultures around the world in sacred architecture—places where communities would gather in circles to share stories, ignite shared imaginations, and weave narratives that solidify their sense of belonging to a greater whole.

The gradual biodegradation of MycoTemple is an integral part of its aesthetic experience. It invites visitors to return throughout the seasons, providing an opportunity to witness the passage of time and the organic process of decay and renewal. It’s a reminder that all things are in a constant state of change, and it invites us to reflect on our transient existence.

The entire process of cultivating the mycelium, from its inception to the completion of MycoTemple, unfolded in Di Meglio’s artist studio in Marseille. Utilizing a low-tech approach and repurposed industrial waste, particularly sawdust, the design team grew the architectural-sized dome segments. This exploration of bio-material innovation showcases the potential of sustainable materials and practices in architecture.

MycoTemple is a testament to the power of innovation, sustainability, and spirituality coming together in harmony. It challenges our preconceptions about the permanence of structures and encourages us to reconnect with nature. As we stand in awe of this living sanctuary, we are reminded of the transformative potential that lies at the intersection of art, architecture, and the natural world. MycoTemple is not just a physical structure; it’s a journey of self-discovery and a celebration of the Earth’s remarkable regenerative capabilities.

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