“Time to say goodbye” is the title of this immensely clever, worldly, brutally honest text with which the critic Fritz J. Raddatz explains the end of his journalistic writing. A goodbye that packs a punch. “I have outlived myself,” writes Raddatz. His aesthetic criteria were outdated, the diagnostician’s best features were rusting, the “greed for the beauty of […]

“Time to say goodbye” is the title of this immensely clever, worldly, brutally honest text with which the critic Fritz J. Raddatz explains the end of his journalistic writing. A goodbye that packs a punch. “I have outlived myself,” writes Raddatz. His aesthetic criteria were outdated, the diagnostician’s best features were rusting, the “greed for the beauty of art” (a wonderful phrase!) had turned to ashes.

In relation to the reality of cultural and especially architectural criticism, I can only say: Wow. Not only is Raddatz more adept at using language than the average member of our profession (though also than the average feuilletonist). But above all, you rarely find so much unsparing self-reflection. Raddatz argues: If the world around you becomes alien to you, then you lack the criteria to discuss it appropriately. And if you don’t feel like engaging curiously with this world, i.e. if your own attitude is constantly pushing the corners of your mouth down in your face, then it would be selfish to expect others to feel the same ill-temperedness.

You don’t have to adopt Raddatz’s radicalism. And before the obvious counter-argument comes up that criticism needs distance: Raddatz knows that, of course. He himself is someone who always creates distance – if only through his provocative nature. He has done this explicitly, for example by publishing his diaries (which are also extremely readable). His merciless dissection of the behavior of others is likely to have lost him a few friends. It’s not about detachment either. But it is about the constant readjustment of one’s own conceptual instruments. It’s about remaining curious as a critic, not falling into complacency. The permanent pose of those who believe they can discuss a complex reality with a few supposedly knowledgeable words. And yet they are only concerned with their own, ultimately provincial microcosm.

A favorite example for me at the moment: the term “deconstructivism”. Architecture critics throw it around like a bouncy ball, each time declaring that the concept is dead and consequently the architecture that is supposedly built in a deconstructivist mindset. But this is usually not based on a deep understanding of deconstructivist thinking. It cannot be assumed that much Derrida or Deleuze has been read beforehand. The concept becomes a mere cipher for everything that comes across as too oblique or without context. And so the effect remains that of a flummery: insubstantial pinballing around.

This pinballing around is alien to Raddatz. In this sense: Goodbye Mr. Raddatz. Your voice will be missed.

Articulation in the floor plan – it sounds like orthopaedics for buildings, but is actually the salt in the architectural soup. Anyone who understands why rooms are not simply clapped together, but how they connect, is planning more than just functional boxes. Articulation is the difference between space and experience, between corridor and joint, between scheme and architecture. But what is it really about – and why is this age-old topic more topical today than ever before?

• Joint formation refers to the spatial, structural or functional connection of floor plan areas and is a central tool of architectural quality.
• In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, the discussion about articulation is facing new challenges due to densification, digitalization and flexible forms of living.
• Innovations such as parametric design, BIM and AI are opening up new possibilities for floor plan modelling and optimization.
• Sustainability brings new requirements: Space minimization, redensification and adaptability require intelligent joints instead of dead corridors.
• Architects today have to combine technical, design and social knowledge in order to design sustainable floor plans with strong joints.
• Criticism: between standardization, cost pressure and regulation, articulation threatens to become a minor matter – with consequences for the quality of living.
• The debate about articulation is global: international role models show how differentiated transitions bring spaces to life.
• Digital tools and AI could redefine the art of articulation – or flatten it with algorithmic simplicity.

The anatomy of the floor plan – why joints are more than just nodes

When experts talk about joint formation in the floor plan, they are not talking about technical details such as hinges or expansion joints – but about the spatial connections, transitions and interfaces between functional areas. Unlike the banal corridor or the mere doorway, the joint in the floor plan is a spatially consciously staged transition. It can function as a buffer, a threshold, a filter or a widening. These joints are the architectural equivalent of the human body: they enable movement, flexibility and connection. If you plan a floor plan simply as a sequence of rooms, you end up with a sequence of cells – but if you understand the joints, you create permeability, privacy and communication in a very small space.

In German-speaking countries in particular, articulation has a long tradition. From the Frankfurt kitchen corridor to the Viennese walk-through room, from the open hallway in the Swiss chalet to the Berlin enfilade: everywhere it can be seen that the quality of a floor plan lies not in the individual rooms, but in their connection. Joints are not luxury details, but essential for access, lighting, ventilation and social interaction. They are the invisible framework that supports floor plans – and they turn a functional matrix into a habitable home.

But the reality is often different: Standardization, cost pressure and regulatory constraints mean that creating joints in the floor plan becomes a minor matter. The result? Corridors that are too narrow to park more than one vacuum cleaner, or passageways that resemble air shafts. The art of transitions is in danger of disappearing between efficiency and square meter optimization. Yet, especially in times of urban densification and new forms of living, the quality of the joints is decisive for the usability and atmosphere of a building.

In practice, it is clear that those who think boldly about joints can save space, shorten distances and use rooms in multiple ways. A hinge can serve as a checkroom, workplace or play area, as a light catcher or acoustic buffer. The best floor plans are not rigid templates, but dynamic systems whose joints can be adapted to changing needs. The challenge lies in creating the right transitions in the balancing act between standards, costs and user requirements – without slipping into arbitrary design.

The topic of joint formation is therefore anything but an academic sideshow. It is the underestimated key competence that determines the future viability of our buildings. Those who cut corners here will be punished by users – be it through vacancy, conversion or simply poor ratings.

Innovations and trends: how digitalization and AI are changing joint formation

Anyone who believes that joint formation is purely a hobby for traditionalists has missed out on the digital revolution. The introduction of Building Information Modeling (BIM), parametric design and AI-supported planning tools is taking the design of floor plans to a whole new level. What used to be laboriously developed on a drawing board can now be varied by algorithms in a matter of seconds. Digital tools make it possible to generate hundreds of variants of a floor plan, analyse their transitions and optimize them according to criteria such as lighting, walkways or quality of stay. This sounds like progress – but it also harbors new dangers: Where is the architectural instinct when the computer decides how wide a joint should be?

In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, these technologies are slowly gaining ground. Pioneering projects use parametric models to dynamically adapt floor plans to the location, user profile and climate data. The joint formation is no longer determined statically, but simulated in real time. AI algorithms can make design proposals based on empirical values from thousands of reference projects. The potential is particularly evident in multi-storey residential buildings and flexible working environments: joints are becoming intelligent interfaces that respond to changing lifestyles.

But the digital euphoria has its downside. Too often, floor plans are “optimized” algorithmically – and then end up with one-size-fits-all solutions that lack any individuality. AI can calculate walking routes, but it doesn’t sense atmosphere. It knows no cultural codes, no social rituals. The danger: the art of creating joints is being leveled in the digital mainstream. The architect becomes a data keeper, the user an extra in the digital grid.

Resistance is needed here. Digital tools are tools, not substitute thinkers. They can help to test variants, but not to replace an architectural approach. The best projects are created where technology and intuition work together – where the digital design space is used to try out new joints without losing the feeling for spaces. The task for planners is to use the possibilities of digitalization without relinquishing creative responsibility.

Internationally, it can be seen that digital approaches can inspire the creation of joints. In the Netherlands and Scandinavia, floor plans are being created whose joints are based on user behavior, daylight and movement flows – all digitally simulated. Switzerland is experimenting with AI-supported designs that measure the quality of living based on the quality of transitions. Germany and Austria are often still lagging behind – the fear of losing control is too great, the building culture too sluggish. But change is inevitable: those who do not think digitally are planning past reality.

Sustainability and space efficiency: the new role of joints

The days when spacious hallways and wide corridors were considered status symbols are over. Today, every square meter counts – from a cost perspective, but also for ecological reasons. Minimizing floor space is the order of the day, and this puts the creation of joints at the heart of sustainable planning. This is because intelligent hinges are the answer to the need to design living and working spaces efficiently, flexibly and sustainably. A well-planned articulation can take on several functions, minimize traffic areas and at the same time create a quality of stay.

In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, the balancing act between space efficiency and quality of life is particularly tricky. On the one hand, rising construction costs and political requirements for densification are pushing for ever smaller floor plans. On the other hand, the demand for comfort, light, acoustics and privacy is growing. The solution lies in the quality of the transitions: joints must be capable of more than just being a corridor. They are the buffer zone between public and private, between work and leisure, between inside and outside.

The issue of sustainability also brings new technical challenges. Joints must be planned in such a way that they optimize energy flows, enable ventilation and distribute daylight. This is where digital simulation tools come into play, which analyze thermal, acoustic and visual comfort at the design stage. Particularly in the case of refurbishments and conversions, it is clear that the clever transformation of corridor zones into articulated zones can make the difference between demolition and reuse.

Critics complain that the trend towards optimizing space comes at the expense of the quality of stay. All too often, corridors are reduced to a minimum and transitions are treated as a necessary evil. The result: cramped, dark, impersonal spaces that nip social life in the bud. The art of creating articulation lies in creating spaces that function as articulation – not as constriction – despite the pressure of space and standards.

The sustainable future of building will depend on whether planners see articulation as a resource – as an opportunity to create more quality with less space. Those who think innovatively here can not only save CO₂, but also create quality of life. This is not a question of style, but a question of survival.

Global perspectives and the future of joint creation

The topic of joint formation is not a purely German hobbyhorse. Internationally, the discussion has long been part of the architectural avant-garde. In Asia, for example, high-rise buildings are being built with articulated floor plans that serve as social meeting points, climate buffers and access nodes. In Denmark and the Netherlands, transitional spaces are deliberately staged as meeting places – from co-working foyers to shared roof terraces. The best examples show: Joints are the stage of everyday life, not the storage room for bicycles.

Digitalization is accelerating this trend. Global architecture firms are working with networked design tools that optimize floor plans in real time and adapt them to local needs. The art of differentiated transitions is becoming the new currency in the international competition for innovative living and working environments. Those who rely solely on standard solutions will remain stuck in mediocrity. The future belongs to planners who see the diversity of joints as an opportunity – and not as a disruptive factor.

But there are also dissenting voices. Critics warn against the commercialization of floor plan design: if digital tools and standardization gain the upper hand, individual solutions are in danger of disappearing. The debate revolves around the question of how much freedom the design needs – and how much standardization it can tolerate. The debate is particularly lively in Germany, Austria and Switzerland. Here, tradition and innovation, rules and regulations and the desire to experiment collide head-on.

Visionary voices are calling for articulation to be established as an independent discipline – with its own fields of research, chairs and digital tools. They see the fusion of architecture, sociology and computer science as a great opportunity: joints as interfaces not only of spaces, but also of data, users and technologies. The future of joint creation could therefore become much more hybrid, multi-layered and interdisciplinary than ever before.

In the end, the question remains: who will design the joints of the future – the algorithm, the investor, the user or the architect? The answer is open. One thing is certain: those who have mastered the art of creating joints will have the best basis for the building of tomorrow.

Conclusion: Articulation – the underestimated backbone of architecture

Articulation in the floor plan is far more than just a technical gimmick. It is the backbone of good architecture, the prerequisite for sustainable, flexible and liveable spaces. In German-speaking countries, it is at the interface between tradition and innovation, between cost pressure and creative freedom. Digitalization and AI open up new possibilities, but also harbour risks of standardization and alienation. Sustainability requires intelligent joints that combine space efficiency and quality of life. The global architecture debate shows: Those who master the art of transitions create buildings that are more than the sum of their spaces. The future of articulation lies in the combination of technical know-how, creative courage and digital expertise. Everything else is just a hallway.