BIM as a participatory platform

Building design
man-sits-on-the-floor-j1-h6T7A5Lo
Installation 'Algo-r-(h)-i-(y)-thms', 2018, from the exhibition ON AIR at the Palais de Tokyo, Paris. Photo by Alina Grubnyak.

BIM as a participatory platform—it sounds like buzzword bingo with a digital twist, but it’s the stuff the future of construction is made of. Where CAD clicks and email ping-pong once defined everyday life, a new paradigm is now taking center stage: Collaborative processes, real-time data, open interfaces. BIM is evolving from a toolbox for design firms into an arena where architects, engineers, building owners, users, and even the wider urban community work together on the digital model. But how does this new openness really work? Who benefits, and who stands in the way? And how far has the German-speaking world come on the path toward a participatory BIM platform?

  • BIM is evolving from software into a digital ecosystem for participation and co-creation
  • Germany, Austria, and Switzerland are taking a wait-and-see yet progressive approach—pilot projects reveal both positives and challenges
  • Digitalization and AI are turning the model into an open forum for discussion, no longer a data silo
  • Sustainability and life-cycle thinking benefit from multi-perspective collaboration
  • Technical interoperability, data ethics, and governance are becoming the Achilles’ heel of participatory BIM
  • Participation is not a sure thing—it requires new skills, the courage to embrace transparency, and a radical shift in thinking
  • Critics warn against overwhelming demands, digital paternalism, and supposed democratization
  • By international standards, the DACH region remains hesitant—yet visionary projects signal a paradigm shift
  • BIM as a participatory platform is more than just a tool—it is the litmus test for the sustainability of construction

From data model to digital marketplace—BIM is pushing its boundaries

BIM was long the wet dream of every tech enthusiast: a central model in which all building components are digitally assembled, every window with attributes, every wall with material parameters. But the days when BIM was purely a coordination and information model are over. Today, the method is evolving into a platform—and that changes everything. The rigid data container is transforming into an agile marketplace where not only specialist planners and clients stake their claims, but also users, operators, government agencies, and sometimes even the neighborhood get involved. Anyone who reduces BIM to traditional planning logic has already slammed the door to the future shut. Because the real added value arises where the model becomes an open space for dialogue: where the user provides feedback on the floor plan, the facility manager feeds in operational data, the building owner sets sustainability goals, and the architect integrates all of this into the design in real time. This new openness is uncomfortable but inevitable—because only in this way can the digital model evolve into a collective building memory.

The problem: The industry is notoriously insular. Who likes to share their planning mistakes, who voluntarily documents their misunderstandings? Yet that is precisely what a truly participatory BIM platform requires. It demands transparency, a culture of learning from mistakes, and the courage to open up processes. In Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, silo thinking still dominates—every firm, every discipline, every government agency maintains its own BIM standards, data formats, and access rights. The result: islands of digitization, but no integrated processes. Participation often remains a mere fig leaf—a bit of public involvement for the project proposal, a few clicks in the viewer for the public. The vision of an open BIM platform is thus far removed from the reality on German construction sites and in government offices. Yet initial projects show that there is another way.

The technical infrastructure is key. Without open interfaces, without interoperability, and without standardized data structures, BIM remains an elitist, closed-door model for specialists. Only when models, simulations, and feedback can be exchanged without barriers can true participation emerge. This highlights that digitalization is not just about software, but also about governance: Who is allowed to read, who is allowed to write, and who is allowed to make changes? These questions are not trivial, but highly political—and they determine the success or failure of participatory BIM.

From an international perspective, the DACH region is lagging behind. While open BIM standards and participatory platforms have long been the norm in Scandinavia, the United Kingdom, and the Netherlands, progress here remains cautiously gradual. The fear of losing control, legal uncertainties, and data chaos runs deep. Yet this is precisely where the opportunity lies: Those who take the bold step of opening up now can set standards, foster innovation, and distinguish themselves in the global architectural arena. Those who continue to hesitate will remain mere spectators in their own digital theater.

The key insight: BIM as a participatory platform is not a technical add-on, but a new cultural approach. It demands different skills, new role models, and above all, a changed mindset. Those who plan collaboratively move away from the image of the all-knowing planner and become facilitators, translators, and process guides. This is uncomfortable—but it is the only answer to the complexity of tomorrow’s construction projects.

Digitalization, AI, and the Democratization of Construction—Reality or Myth?

Digitalization has the potential to fundamentally democratize construction—at least according to the prevailing narrative. But how much substance is there really behind the promises of the participatory BIM platform? One thing is clear: with the right tools, not only experts but also laypeople can use, comment on, and scrutinize the digital model. Visualizations, simulations, variant comparisons—all available at the click of a button, all seemingly transparent. But the devil is in the details. Who decides which data is visible? Who determines which simulations are permissible? And how much participation is truly desired, and how much is just for show?

Artificial intelligence further amplifies this trend. With AI-powered models, variants can be generated in seconds, usage scenarios simulated, and sustainability indicators evaluated. In theory, every user could design their own ideal floor plan and have the environmental impact calculated on the spot. But the reality is sobering: Most tools are built for professionals—confusing, overly complex, and anything but inviting. The much-touted democratization of construction often remains a marketing promise that falls short due to usability issues and the complexity of the processes.

Nevertheless, pilot projects in German-speaking countries show that there is another way. In Vienna, for example, a digital twin was created during the planning of new urban neighborhoods, allowing citizens and stakeholders to comment on different options, submit suggestions, and identify conflicts early on. In Zurich, users can even review energy simulations and generate their own scenarios in select projects. The problem: such projects are the exception, not the rule. The vast majority of construction projects remain far removed from genuine digital participation.

Another stumbling block is governance. Who operates the platform? Who is liable for errors in the model? Who protects sensitive data from misuse? There is a great deal of uncertainty, and responsibilities are often not clearly defined. Added to this is the fact that fear of online backlash, data leaks, and loss of control is holding many stakeholders back. Yet international experience shows that openness brings not only risks but also opportunities: In the Netherlands, for example, planning data is increasingly being published openly to promote innovation and participation—with astonishing success.

Conclusion: The democratization of construction through BIM is not a sure thing. It requires smart design, clear rules, and a culture of openness. Those who take this issue seriously gain transparency, acceptance, and innovative strength. Those who play it safe will fall behind in the future of construction. The question remains: How much democracy can the construction industry truly handle—and how much courage will the industry muster to break new ground?

Sustainability, Life Cycle, and Multi-Perspective Planning—Is BIM a Game-Changer?

Hardly any other topic preoccupies the industry as much as sustainability. Yet while environmental reports, certifications, and eco-labels flood the construction world, the real challenge remains: How can sustainability goals be integrated into the planning and construction process without getting bogged down in bureaucracy? This is precisely where BIM, as a participatory platform, can become a game-changer. The digital model not only enables the tracking of energy consumption, CO₂ footprints, and material cycles, but also makes this data visible and open to discussion for all stakeholders. This is the key to a new level of transparency: Those who can track the environmental impact of every planning decision in real time will plan more consciously, responsibly, and sustainably.

But sustainability is more than just energy efficiency. It’s about life-cycle thinking, user comfort, resilience, and adaptability. In a participatory BIM platform, building operators can contribute their experiences from building operations, users can articulate their needs, and planners can respond to conflicts early on. This gives rise to multi-perspective planning that breaks down traditional disciplinary boundaries and shifts the focus from the building itself to the process. Practical experience shows that projects developed in this way perform significantly better in terms of user satisfaction, energy performance, and cost control.

However, there are also major hurdles here. Much sustainability data is difficult to access, proprietary, or simply nonexistent. Integrating it into the BIM model requires standardized interfaces, uniform indicators, and clear responsibilities. Those who cut corners here will ultimately produce nothing more than attractive visualizations—but no reliable basis for decision-making. Furthermore, sustainability involves a conflict of values. What makes ecological sense for one person may be socially problematic for another. Participatory BIM platforms can help bring these conflicts to light early on—but they do not resolve them on their own.

In German-speaking countries, the topic of sustainability is often limited to the technical level. Life-cycle analyses and life-cycle assessments are prepared, but rarely discussed with users or integrated into participatory processes. International pioneers such as the Nordic countries show that there is another way: There, sustainability goals are defined collaboratively at an early stage, and digital models serve as a basis for discussion among all stakeholders. The result: fewer rework, higher acceptance, and better performance.

The final hurdle: education. Anyone who wants to work with participatory BIM platforms in the future will need different skills than those of the CAD drafters’ generation. Facilitation skills, data literacy, and conflict resolution abilities are in demand—as is the willingness to share one’s own knowledge. It will take some time before these elements are fully integrated into education and practice. But the path is clear: sustainability and participation are no longer add-ons, but integral components of digital construction.

Complexity, Control, and Criticism—Why BIM as a Platform Doesn’t Have Only Friends

Where there is light, there is also shadow—and this is especially true for the participatory BIM platform. For as much as we talk about openness, transparency, and collaboration, complexity is also growing. Who is allowed to change what, and when? How are conflicting interests mediated? What happens when user opinions and design standards contradict each other? The danger is real: the platform risks becoming an impenetrable jungle in which no one can find their way anymore. Small firms in particular, building owners with little digital affinity, and government agencies with limited IT resources quickly feel overwhelmed. The result: a retreat to the familiar, rejection of the new tools, and demonization of digitalization.

Another point of criticism is the apparent democratization. Participation sounds good, but it isn’t always desirable. Many users have neither the time nor the inclination to grapple with complex models. It’s not uncommon for participation platforms to be dominated by a small, vocal minority, while the silent majority remains on the sidelines. The danger of digital paternalism is real: Who decides which suggestions will be implemented? Who filters the flood of feedback? How can we prevent the platform from being misused to legitimize decisions that have already been made?

The role of AI is also ambivalent. On the one hand, it facilitates analysis, simulation, and the integration of user feedback. On the other hand, it carries the risk of algorithmic bias, distortion due to a lack of data, or one-sided training data. Who controls the AI? Who verifies the results? This highlights the fact that participation without transparency is only half the battle. The platform’s governance must be clearly regulated—otherwise, the digital utopia will become nothing more than a technocratic fig leaf.

Added to this is the issue of commercialization. Who operates the platform? Who profits from data traffic? Major software providers are flooding the market, luring users with free tools and tying them to proprietary systems. The result: dependency, lack of transparency, and stifled innovation due to closed ecosystems. Anyone serious about participation must commit to open standards, open source, and data sovereignty—otherwise, the platform will remain an exclusive club for the initiated.

And finally: the debate over the role of the architect. Will the planner be reduced to a moderator in the participatory BIM platform—a service provider in the digital process? Or does this new openness open up scope for creative, innovative solutions? Opinions differ—and that’s a good thing. Because progress only arises from debate over the best solution. One thing is clear, however: the era of the lone planning genius is over. The future of construction is collective, digital, and—in the best-case scenario—participatory.

Final Thoughts: BIM Platforms as a Litmus Test for Construction Culture

BIM as a participatory platform is not a panacea, but it is a litmus test for the industry’s future viability. Those who manage to cleverly combine technology, openness, and participation will gain in impact, innovative strength, and social relevance. Those who continue to entrench themselves in silos will not only fall behind but also lose credibility. Digitalization offers the opportunity to rethink construction—as a collective, learning, and transparent process. But only if we muster the courage to question habits, share power, and renegotiate responsibility. The platform is built—now it must be brought to life. Who, if not us? And when, if not now?

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London Eye: engineering meets urban skyline architecture

Building design
View of the London Eye, a large Ferris wheel with glass gondolas, in front of London's urban skyline.

Ferris wheel, architectural innovation and digital planning in the metropolis. Photo by Ismail Merad on Unsplash.

A Ferris wheel as an engineering icon, a landmark of postmodernism and an architectural statement in the middle of the London skyline: The London Eye is far more than just a tourist magnet. It is the perfect example of how the art of engineering and urban architecture merge to create a digital, sustainable and socially relevant monument – and what the German-speaking world could learn from it if it dared.

  • The London Eye stands for the renaissance of engineering architecture in an urban context and shows how landmarks shape the identity of a city.
  • The technical realization of the Eye was a milestone for civil engineers, from modular prefabrication to innovative cable tensioning systems.
  • Digital planning and computer-aided simulations already played a key role at the end of the 1990s – a precursor to today’s BIM and digital twin approaches.
  • Sustainability on the Ferris wheel? Between the carbon footprint, maintenance cycles and choice of materials, there is more to discuss than the PR department would like to admit.
  • The debate about the sense and nonsense of iconic large-scale projects is more topical than ever – from Stuttgart 21 to the Elbphilharmonie concert hall.
  • Germany, Austria and Switzerland often look to London with admiration, but rarely dare to create their own new type of architectural icons.
  • The London Eye raises questions: How much courage to innovate does urban architecture need? And how much digitality is already in our cities today?
  • In the international architectural discourse, the Eye has long been a reference object for technical excellence, social added value and urban transformation.

The London Eye: how civil engineering becomes an urban icon

The London Eye, officially launched as the Millennium Wheel, is a child of the late 1990s – an era in which British cities such as London, Manchester and Glasgow sought to reinvent themselves with grand architectural gestures. While people in Germany were still discussing the height of church steeples, a 135-metre-high Ferris wheel was already being planned on the Thames to revolutionize the skyline. The vision: a structure that would catapult London into the new millennium, not only visually but also mentally. However, the Eye is no ordinary Ferris wheel, but an engineering dream come true. The construction is based on a huge, horizontally mounted wheel that rests on two inclined forks – a static feat that aroused doubt, admiration and curiosity from the outset.

The British approach was usually pragmatic: what is technically feasible is done. Unlike in Central Europe, where technical innovations first have to go through ten committees and three rounds of scrutiny, London relied on a combination of courage, risk and engineering precision. The result: an urban landmark that is still regarded today as a model for the fusion of engineering and urban design. While German cities are usually content with multifunctional halls and shopping centers, London has created a symbol with the Eye that is as much a tool as it is a vision.

The construction itself reads like an engineering thriller. The individual components were delivered by water, the wheel was initially pre-assembled in a horizontal position and slowly erected with the help of floating cranes and cable winches. The precision with which the spokes had to be tensioned, the capsules assembled and the overall weight balanced was a feat of strength – and a lesson for all those who believe that civil engineering is merely a question of standards and tables. It showed that urban icons are created where technical excellence, architectural vision and the will of urban society come together.

But the Eye is more than just a landmark. It is a catalyst for the transformation of the South Bank, a driving force for gastronomy, tourism and urban development. What was previously a gray post-war wasteland is now one of London’s most vibrant areas – not least because the wheel functions as an architectural magnet. Anyone who claims that civil engineering does not shape the cityscape should take a look at the queue at the London Eye. Here, architectural courage becomes a daily attraction.

The Eye sets a standard that German, Austrian and Swiss cities have rarely achieved to date. While people in Berlin, Vienna and Zurich are still arguing about the purpose of high-rise buildings, London is demonstrating how engineering-driven landmarks can create identity. The question remains: When will we dare to build our own icons instead of just looking enviously across the English Channel?

Digital pioneers: How the London Eye paved the way for BIM and simulation

Anyone who thinks that the London Eye is just an analog monument from the turn of the millennium is ignoring the digital avant-garde that played a role in its creation. Computer-aided simulations were used as early as the design and planning stages to calculate the loads on the wheel, wind loads and material fatigue. The engineers worked with state-of-the-art 3D models, which are considered the forerunners of today’s Building Information Modeling systems. This made the Eye a kind of proto-digital twin, years before the term was even used in the industry.

The use of digital tools was not an end in itself, but a matter of survival. For a structure of this size, which had never before been realized in this form, all eventualities – from thermal expansion to the cyclical loading of the cable pulls – had to be considered and simulated in advance. Digital planning made it possible to optimize the use of materials, sequence the assembly and minimize risks. While many German projects at the time were still content with CAD planning and spreadsheets, construction in London was already at the interface of algorithms and craftsmanship.

Today, the London Eye would probably be a first-class BIM project: All trades networked, all components stored as digital objects, real-time monitoring and maintenance via sensor technology. But even without modern cloud platforms and IoT interfaces, the Eye was a forerunner of digital transformation in the construction industry. The integration of simulation, production and assembly planning laid the foundation for many of the methods that are considered state of the art today.

In retrospect, it is clear: The Eye was a field of experimentation where digital and analog skills merged. The experience gained from planning, construction and operation later flowed into other major projects – not just in the UK, but internationally. The global architecture and engineering discourse was shaped by the fact that digital tools were no longer seen as a gimmick, but as an indispensable prerequisite for complex buildings. A rethink that still has some catching up to do in German-speaking countries. While BIM pilot projects in Germany often fail due to interface problems and questions of responsibility, the Eye has shown how interdisciplinary digital collaboration can work.

The Eye is therefore not only a symbol, but also a laboratory – and a lesson for all those who believe that digital transformation is a foregone conclusion. It is a question of attitude, courage and competence. And it determines whether buildings are created that last – or whether they merely fill brochures.

Sustainability and resources: between carbon footprint and urban added value

A Ferris wheel as a symbol of sustainability? At first glance, it sounds like greenwashing at a height of 135 meters. But if you take a closer look, you will discover that the London Eye raises questions that could hardly be more topical, not only architecturally but also ecologically. The choice of materials – steel from European production, high-strength cables, modular capsules with maximum service life – was designed for durability and ease of maintenance. No solid concrete was used during assembly and the foundations are comparatively delicate. A statement in terms of resource efficiency that many infrastructure projects today could write behind their ears.

But sustainability does not end with the material. The Eye is designed for continuous operation, with minimal energy consumption per passenger kilometer – a balance that some subways can only dream of. Maintenance is largely carried out during operation and downtimes are rare. Thanks to the modular design, individual capsules can be replaced and modernized without taking the entire system out of service. This demonstrates a circular economy on a small scale, while elsewhere there are still discussions about dismantling obligations and life cycle costs.

The question of how sustainable a major tourism project actually is remains critical. The transportation of millions of visitors has a significant environmental impact, and marketing the Eye as an event location consumes additional resources. However, the Eye also generates added value for urban society: it attracts visitors to a previously neglected suburban location, boosts gastronomy and retail and creates jobs. The discussion about sustainability must therefore be broader – between carbon footprint, social added value and urban transformation.

An international comparison shows that while German, Austrian and Swiss cities often see sustainability as an exercise in sacrifice, London shows how ecological and economic interests can go hand in hand. The Eye is not a perfect role model, but it is food for thought. It calls for sustainability to be seen not as a dogma, but as a driver of innovation. This is precisely what is missing in many Central European construction projects, which get lost in detailed regulations and conflicting objectives.

In the end, the Eye remains a mirror for the ambivalence of urban sustainability: it is part of the problem and part of the solution. A building that asks questions instead of just providing answers. And that is perhaps the most important quality in times of growing climate crisis.

What can DACH cities learn? Debates, visions and technical expertise

German-speaking countries often look admiringly at projects such as the London Eye, but shy away from taking the plunge themselves. The debate about urban icons in this country is characterized by risk aversion, approval marathons and the fear of the next public protest. But without architectural courage, cities remain faceless – and innovations fizzle out in studies and renderings instead of being built. The Eye shows: Who dares, wins. But it takes more than engineers and architects – visionaries, networkers and moderators are needed to bring together technical, political and social interests.

Technically, the toolbox is full to bursting: Digital planning, parametric modeling, AI-supported simulations and sustainable material innovations have long been available. What is missing is the will to use these tools consistently in large-scale projects. While London was already thinking digitally 25 years ago, Excel spreadsheets, silo thinking and interface chaos still dominate in Germany. The Eye is a reminder that technology alone is not enough – it must serve a shared vision.

The role of digitalization is becoming increasingly important. Smart building, predictive maintenance, automated control systems – all of these would be standard at the Eye today. In DACH cities, however, there is still skepticism about data, algorithms and AI in many places. Fear of loss of control, liability issues and data protection are putting the brakes on innovation. Instead of shaping the future, people prefer to play it safe. As a result, the gap to international pioneers is growing – and with it the frustration over missed opportunities.

The social debate about iconic buildings is therefore more necessary than ever. It must openly negotiate questions of meaning, sustainability, access and digitalization – instead of getting lost in symbolic politics. The London Eye shows that urban landmarks can create identity, initiate discussions and fuel innovation. They are not an end in themselves, but catalysts for change. However, this change requires technical expertise, political determination and social acceptance. Those who rely solely on regulations and best practices will never get beyond mediocrity.

In the global discourse, the London Eye has long been a reference object. It stands for the courage to merge technology and architecture, for the willingness to think of the city as a stage for innovation – and for the realization that real icons can only be created if you dare to make mistakes. DACH cities are at a crossroads: do they want to remain spectators – or finally become actors themselves?

Conclusion: Courage to become an icon – and to undergo digital transformation

The London Eye is no ordinary Ferris wheel. It is a statement for the art of engineering, digital planning and urban vision. It embodies what is possible when courage, technology and the will to shape society come together. In German-speaking countries, it is not competence that is lacking, but attitude. Anyone who wants to learn from London should finally stop moaning about risks – and start building opportunities. After all, the city of the future will not be created by doing without, but by combining innovation, sustainability and digital excellence. The question is not whether we need such icons. The question is whether we are ready to build them.

Germany’s tallest buildings – Top 10

Building design

Since its completion in 1999, the MAIN TOWER has been a central eye-catcher on Frankfurt's Zeil shopping mile. Photo: Helaba

We present the ten tallest buildings in Germany, tell you which new buildings have been added in the past year and explain their special features.

We present the ten tallest buildings in Germany, tell you which new buildings have been added in the past year and explain their special features.

Things are happening in the highest spheres: In the last few months, Germany’s top ten tallest buildings have seen two new additions. The Omniturm by Danish architecture firm BIG and the Grand Tower by Magnus Kaminiarz & Cie have entered high society. And something else is new: whereas German skyscrapers were previously used exclusively as offices, apartments are now also moving into Germany’s tallest towers. The almost 190-metre-high Omniturm is designed as a mixed-use tower and aims to combine different types of use.

In addition to offices and apartments, the building also houses restaurants and service providers. The Grand Tower, on the other hand, is by far Germany’s tallest residential high-rise. It is a remarkable development that real estate developers in this country now also see the possibility of financing a 180-metre-high skyscraper with luxury apartments. However, the location of the two new buildings is hardly surprising. Like the other eight tallest buildings in Germany, they are located in Frankfurt am Main.

The Opera Tower and Taunus Tower, which currently share tenth place, are expected to have to say goodbye to the top ten next year. Then the “One” with its 190 meters will be completed and move up to sixth place in the ranking. And with the tallest of the four high-rises in the “Four Frankfurt” project, designed by UNStudio, Germany’s future number three with a height of 228 meters is already in the making. Everything that is being built outside the Main metropolis is significantly lower.

The tallest building outside Frankfurt is the Post Tower in Bonn, currently number 13 in the country at 162.5 meters. The Alexanderhochhaus, an apartment tower designed by Ortner & Ortner, which was started in 2019, will be the tallest building in Berlin at 150 meters when it is completed in 2023, but will probably not even be in the national top 20 by then.

A reminder of better times for the crisis-ridden finance house: when Normen Foster completed the high-rise building with its triangular floor plan and floor-spanning conservatories in 1997, it was considered a pioneering example of green technology and progressive workplace design. In contrast, the building’s lack of progress meant that it was almost completely isolated from its surroundings in Frankfurt’s city center, making it appear as a foreign body in the urban space to this day. Like the whole of Frankfurt, the Tower has become a beneficiary of Brexit: Since the British left the EU, the building is once again the tallest within the territory of the community of states.

Probably the most visible legacy of postmodernism in Frankfurt: Helmut Jahn’s skyscraper brought a piece of the USA to the Main in 1990. The silhouette of the Messeturm is reminiscent of the classic New York skyscrapers of the 1920s and 1930s. On closer inspection, one recognizes Jahn’s play with basic geometric shapes: A cylinder grows out of a cube and is crowned by a pyramid. The red granite with which the building is clad picks up on the color of the red sandstone from which large parts of Frankfurt’s old town were built.

The American architecture firm Kohn Pedersen Fox, which has been building skyscrapers like an assembly line since the 1980s, is responsible for the design of the Westendstrasse 1 high-rise in Frankfurt. The most striking feature of the semi-cylindrical building, which was completed in 1993, is its projection at the top. Ostensibly a reference to Frankfurt’s former position as the coronation site of the German emperors, the tower is more reminiscent of the aureole of the Statue of Liberty, making it look a little like the ambassador of New York’s business spirit in the city skyline.

The MAIN TOWER is very popular with Frankfurters and tourists alike. It houses a publicly accessible viewing platform, as well as a viewing restaurant and a sky bar. Since its completion in 1999, the skyscraper designed by architects Schweger + Partner has been a central eye-catcher on Frankfurt’s Zeil shopping street, in the direct extension of which it is located.


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Since its completion in 1999, the MAIN TOWER has been a central eye-catcher on Frankfurt’s Zeil shopping mile. Photo: Helaba

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The skyscraper is popular with Frankfurters and tourists alike thanks to its viewing platform, viewing restaurant and Skybar. Photo: Helaba

The MAIN TOWER shares fourth place with Tower 185, which was completed in 2011. In his design, architect Christoph Mäckler took up a central design element of his Opera Tower, which is two years older: He divided the volume of the high-rise vertically with a striking setback, thereby taking away much of its massiveness. However, he arranged the two “wings” of his building at a slight angle to each other. Unlike the Opera Tower, Tower 185 does not have a natural stone façade. Instead, the building is clad with a bronze-coloured aluminum façade, which is broken up by black details.

The concept of the Omni Tower is that of the high-rise building as a vertical city, as described by Rem Koolhaas in his classic “Delirious New York”. The Omni Tower not only houses offices, but also floors with apartments inserted in between. Where the apartments are located, the architects from the Danish firm BIG shift the floors towards each other so that they protrude from the cube of the tower. Balconies belonging to the apartments are located on these “protrusions”. The base of the tower houses restaurants, a fitness studio and a co-working space, among other things, which provide services for the residents of the building. BIG sees this as an opportunity to compensate for small living spaces. At the same time, the aim is to liven up Frankfurt’s banking district in the evenings and at weekends. It remains to be seen whether this will work; the first tenants have recently moved in.

Despite its height, the Trianon is one of the gray mice among Frankfurt’s office towers. Today, Deka-Bank has its headquarters in the building, which was completed in 1993 and designed by a consortium of architects comprising Novotny Mähner Assoziierte, HPP and Albert Speer & Partner. The building, which consists of a triangular core with three equally triangular towers at the top and is crowned by an inverted triangular pyramid, has since been sold several times from one real estate fund to the next.

Quite a few people were disappointed when the building by Coop Himmelb(l)au, whose design had won the top-class international competition, was given its glass façade. While the two towers leaning against each other and the atrium in between were still recognizable as three independent components, they now looked like one huge, twisted volume despite the different glass colors. Thanks to its stand-alone position to the east of Frankfurt’s old town, the tower, which was completed in 2014 after some difficulties, at least has enough space around it to make an impact. It remains to be seen whether the historic fabric of Martin Elsaesser’s Grossmarkhalle really needed to be so heavily interfered with in order to use it as the foyer of the high-rise.

Germany’s tallest residential high-rise, which is about to be occupied and will house over 400 luxury apartments, is just a stone’s throw away from Frankfurt’s Bahnhofsviertel. This may have seen worse times, but it is still unmistakably a center of European standing in terms of drug consumption and trafficking. So perhaps the concierge in the foyer of the Grand Tower is not a bad decision. If residents are not drawn to the station district, they can alternatively run their errands in the Skyline Plaza, the ECE mall with the usual mix of retail chains, which is located right next to the building. It remains to be seen whether this will be enough to persuade the targeted buyers from Asia, Russia or the USA to buy property for over 30,000 euros per square meter in some cases.

Undoubtedly one of the most beautiful high-rise buildings in Frankfurt in recent decades: Christoph Mäckler’s design not only impresses with its elegant division into two sections, its base structure also ensures that Frankfurt’s Opernplatz has a clear urban structure again. This makes up for the loss of the Zurich Tower, one of the city’s first high-rise buildings, which previously stood on this site. In return for the demolition and the right to build higher, the investor undertook to extend the adjacent Rothschild Park on his land. The light-colored natural stone used to clad the tower and base building creates a link to Opernplatz and the Alte Oper.

The Taunus Towers are actually Taunus Towers. This is because the project, which was completed in 2014, consists of a 170-metre office tower and a 68-metre residential tower block. More precisely, the Taunusturm office tower is not a monofunctional building, as it is also an art museum. The Frankfurt Museum of Modern Art MMK occupies a 1,500 square meter exhibition hall on the first floor of the building as a branch of its main building in Frankfurt’s old town. The architectural firm Gruber + Kleine-Kraneburg provided the design for both the residential and office tower. They divided the office tower into two interconnected cuboids, one of which ends with an eye-catching pitched roof.

Do you know the tallest building in the world? Our colleagues from G+L present it to you here: Tallest buildings in the world.