Beyond Modernism’s Shadow
Reclaiming architecture through local materials, cultural wisdom, and climate-sensitive design
In today’s globalized world, architecture often borrows heavily from modernist ideals—universal forms, concrete structures, and standardized approaches that pay little attention to the unique cultures and climates they inhabit. My graduate thesis, Navigating Contextualism: An Architectural and Urban Design Study at the Intersection of Climate, Culture, Urban Development, and Globalization, set out to explore what happens when we flip that narrative and allow place to lead design.
The research centered on Dire Dawa, Ethiopia, where rapid university construction has embraced international style architecture. While these campuses represent progress in access to education, they also reveal a troubling detachment. Dormitories, crowded with minimal ventilation, left students struggling through extreme heat. Women, unsafe sleeping outdoors, were confined to unbearable indoor conditions. Concrete campuses, disconnected from their cities, ignored the cultural and social fabric that might have offered more responsive solutions.
Through site research and interviews with students and residents, I found that adaptation, not importation, is the path forward. Communities already held deep knowledge of how to inhabit their climate. For example, many rejected direct air conditioning, explaining that the abrupt cold made them ill. What outsiders might consider a “modern solution” was not aligned with local comfort or culture. This realization underscored a central truth: architecture is not only about buildings—it is about dignity, safety, and respect for lived experience.
The thesis advanced contextualism as a design philosophy: one that places culture, climate, and community at the foundation of architectural decisions. My proposals reimagined dormitories with cross-ventilation, balconies for shade and social connection, and communal gathering spaces that supported both cultural practices and environmental comfort. At a larger scale, decentralized dining halls were designed as multipurpose hubs—fluid, inclusive, and rooted in local construction techniques. Each intervention sought to repair the gap between built form and community life.
What I learned was clear: architecture succeeds when it emerges from dialogue, not imposition. Listening to the people of Dire Dawa transformed the project more than any drawing or model
could. The process reminded me that design takes time—time to build trust, to learn, and to shape architecture that belongs as much to its users as to its designers.
Today, as a practicing architectural designer in the United States, these lessons remain urgent. Even in a different context, sourcing materials locally not only minimizes environmental impact but also strengthens communities. Designing with sensitivity to place—whether in Ethiopia or the U.S.—offers buildings that are sustainable, culturally relevant, and deeply humane.
Navigating contextualism is ultimately about resisting homogenization. It is a call to design spaces that affirm identity, climate, and culture—so that architecture is not an imported abstraction, but a reflection of the people and places it serves.
