18.01.2026

Designing time zones: Architecture between time and space

Building design

Atmospheric cityscape of a crowd at Utrecht Central Station in spring, taken by Bart Ros.

Architecture is more than just space. It is also time. Between digital clocks, analog buildings and the constantly changing urban rhythms of life, a new discipline is emerging: designing time zones. Here, architecture becomes a clock, urban planning becomes choreography – and the profession is faced with the question of how contemporary its work really is. Welcome to the border area between yesterday, today and tomorrow – and the all-important real time.

Exploring the role of time in architecture between Germany, Austria and Switzerland
Analysis of digital innovations such as urban digital twins and AI-based planning tools
Importance of real-time data and scenarios for resilient, sustainable urban development
Specific challenges and solutions for the integration of time dimensions in construction processes
Technical know-how for architects: From BIM and simulation to data expertise
Critical examination of speed, flexibility and planning quality
Global trends and how they challenge German-speaking countries
Visions, controversies and the influence of digitalization on design and cityscape

Architecture in time: between persistence and acceleration

Architecture is known to be an art of duration. But if you look around German, Austrian or Swiss cities today, you will see that the rhythm has changed. The cityscape is no longer characterized only by works of the century such as railroad stations, opera houses or university buildings, but also by temporary pavilions, pop-up architecture and flexible forms of housing. Temporality has become democratized, accelerated and sometimes even taken on a life of its own. In the centers, buildings are created that barely last twenty years, while peripheries flirt with structural longevity. The big question is: how much time can architecture take today? And how much speed does it need to remain relevant?

The German-speaking countries are exemplary of a balancing act. On the one hand, construction projects are slowed down by lengthy approval procedures, public involvement and regulations. On the other hand, there is growing pressure to build faster, more flexibly and more adaptably. Time has become a decisive competitive factor – not only for investors, but also for planners and users. If you are too slow, the demands of society, the climate and technology will overtake you at a gallop.

At the same time, the classic understanding of architecture as static, monumental and eternal is beginning to falter. Transformative projects, such as the conversion of industrial sites, show that time is just as important a resource as space or budget. More and more often, the right timing determines whether a design becomes a success or remains in the slumber of planning. Digitalization is intensifying this game: digital tools not only speed up processes, but also make them more transparent and responsive.

But this acceleration is not without risk. The danger that quality, identity and sustainability will be sacrificed in favor of speed is real. Planners need to ask themselves how they can master the balancing act between speed and accuracy. After all, designing time zones also means finding a balance between the planning horizon and life cycle – and not every design is intended to last forever. Sometimes the temporary intervention is more sustainable than the eternal monument.

A new culture of building is emerging in which time becomes a design tool. It demands not only technical skill from architects, but also strategic thinking. If you don’t know the time zones of your projects, you are planning past reality. Or to put it provocatively: those who still work to the beat of building regulation deadlines today will be overtaken by real time tomorrow.

Digital turnaround: From real-time planning to the urban digital twin

Digitalization has fundamentally changed the concept of time in architecture. What used to be a linear process of design, approval, construction and use is now a circular, dynamic process. The digital twin – whether building or urban quarter – is the prime example of this development. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, the topic is being followed with growing curiosity, but also with skepticism. While international pioneers such as Singapore and Helsinki are already operating digital city models in real time, German-speaking cities are still experimenting cautiously. There are many reasons for this: a lack of standards, fragmented data landscapes, legal uncertainties – and not least a healthy respect for loss of control.

But the trend is unstoppable. Urban digital twins make it possible to evaluate construction projects not just retrospectively, but to run through scenarios even before the ground is broken. What happens if the climate changes, traffic collapses or new types of use are required? The digital twin provides answers – in real time. This makes time itself a plannable factor. Architects who get involved with these tools gain a new level of sovereignty: they can adapt their designs in an agile manner, test variants and simulate the effects on energy consumption, user behavior or the urban climate.

In practice, this means a paradigm shift. Traditional design, which takes months or years, is increasingly being replaced by iterative, data-driven processes. BIM models, AI-supported simulations and smart data platforms make it possible to immediately visualize changes in the digital twin. Those who ignore these possibilities risk their projects becoming obsolete before they are even built. The architecture of the future is no longer static, but in constant dialog with the times – and it needs planners who can keep up with this pace.

Of course, not everyone is enthusiastic. Critics warn of a technocratization of design, algorithmic distortion and the danger of digital models becoming the sole decision-making authority. But the following applies here: technology is only as good as those who use it. Those who combine data expertise, creativity and experience can turn the digital circus into a real planning tool. And anyone who believes that real architecture doesn’t need a digital supplement should try to get a building application through without CAD, BIM or simulation. Have fun with it.

The integration of time into the design process opens up unimagined possibilities: temporary uses, flexible floor plans, adaptive façades. All of this can be digitally modelled, simulated and optimized. The real art lies in designing the interplay of space and time in such a way that architecture becomes the designer of time rather than the driven one. This is the real turning point – and it has only just begun.

Sustainability under time pressure: challenges and solutions

When people talk about sustainability today, they usually think of carbon footprints, energy efficiency or the circular economy. But time is an underestimated factor in sustainable architecture. How long does a building last? How flexibly can it be adapted to changing needs? And how quickly can it react to climatic, social or economic upheavals? In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, this debate is still in its infancy. There are numerous lighthouse projects that focus on longevity, conversion and deconstructability. However, the principle of uniqueness often still dominates in the area – buildings are built for the moment, not for change.

Digital tools can be a game changer here. With the help of urban digital twins, BIM and simulation, life cycles can be precisely calculated, material flows optimized and scenarios for conversion, expansion or demolition developed. This makes time plannable – and sustainability measurable. However, this requires architects to familiarize themselves with data analysis, digital platforms and new planning processes. Those who are unable or unwilling to do so will be left out of the sustainability debate.

Another problem: the time pressure in the construction industry often means that sustainability becomes a minor matter. Quick results count, long-term effects are ignored. A change in awareness is needed here – and clear rules. Competitions, funding programmes and building laws must recognize time as a resource and reward innovative, adaptive solutions. In Switzerland, there are initial approaches to this, for example in cooperative projects or flexible construction methods. In Germany and Austria, the topic is still in its infancy – but the need for action is growing.

The central challenge remains: How can speed and sustainability be combined? The answer lies in integrating time into all planning phases. Those who focus on adaptability, convertibility and deconstructability at an early stage can also make fast construction processes sustainable. Digital models help to assess risks and extend life cycles. Ultimately, however, it takes courage to question old habits and break new ground. After all, sustainable architecture is always a question of the right time – and the right timing.

Visionary architects have long recognized that the future lies in the combination of technical knowledge, creativity and strategic time management. They develop buildings that not only shape spaces, but also times – and thus make a real contribution to a resilient, sustainable city. On the other hand, those who continue to rely on the “close your eyes and move on” principle will be overrun by change. Shaping time zones also means taking architecture out of its comfort zone and catapulting it into the future.

Technical know-how for the new time architecture

Designing time zones demands more from architects today than ever before. If you want to survive in the digital and urban competition, you need more than beautiful renderings and well thought-out floor plans. Data expertise, an understanding of simulations, process architecture and a confident use of digital platforms are required. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, training is often not yet prepared for this. BIM, parametric design and smart building concepts are slowly making their way into universities. But the real leap is taking place in practice – and it is painful.

Technical know-how starts with an understanding of data models. If you want to operate an urban digital twin, you need to know how geodata, sensor data and user information interact. It is no longer enough to model a building in 3D – what is needed is the ability to simulate variants, calculate life cycles and visualize scenarios. This means that interdisciplinarity is a must. Architects have to work together with IT specialists, urban planners, engineers and even sociologists. Those who remain stuck in old disciplinary logics will fall by the wayside.

The ability to critically reflect on digital tools is also crucial. Not every AI tool is automatically a blessing, not every simulation corresponds to reality. Architects must learn to question algorithms, check data sources and recognize the limits of digital models. This requires the courage to face uncertainty – and the willingness to take responsibility. Because if you blindly rely on the digital twin, reality will quickly catch up with you.

Experience shows that successful projects are created where technical knowledge meets creative vision. This applies in particular to the integration of time dimensions. Temporary uses, adaptive building envelopes, flexible floor plans – all of these require precise planning, fast response times and digital control. The tools are there, the skills must follow. Those who continue their education today, attend workshops and cooperate with experts will be in demand tomorrow. Those who rely on the old masters, on the other hand, will become museum keepers of their own designs.

What counts in the end: Time waits for no one – not even architects. If you want to design time zones, you have to take the plunge into the digital world, build up technical expertise and constantly redefine your own role. Otherwise, architecture will remain what it never wanted to be: yesterday.

Criticism, visions and global perspectives: The architecture of time in discourse

Of course, the topic is not uncontroversial. The integration of time in planning and architecture arouses fears: of loss of control, of data dependency, of the loss of creative freedom. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, there is a heated debate as to whether digital tools promote or stifle creativity. Some see urban digital twins and AI as an opportunity for greater participation, transparency and quality. Others fear an alienation of space and material, a reduction of architecture to numbers, models and simulations.

Internationally, the debate is even more heated. In Asia and North America, speed has long been considered a virtue. Cities are being built there that reinvent themselves every five years. Europe – and the German-speaking world in particular – insists on quality, identity and processes. But here, too, the old certainties are crumbling. The generation of digital natives is demanding more flexible, open and adaptable cities. The climate crisis calls for quick but sustainable solutions. And the economy wants projects that move in step with the market.

Visionary architects are taking on these challenges. They develop buildings that not only function today, but can reinvent themselves tomorrow. They rely on open source models, collaborative platforms and participatory planning. They use AI to make better decisions and see temporary structures not as a threat, but as an opportunity for innovation. The architecture of time is thus becoming a laboratory for new ideas – and a touchstone for the courage of an entire industry.

But there are also warnings. The commercialization of digital city models threatens to turn public space into a commodity. Algorithmic distortions can lead to social inequalities. And the dominance of technical systems harbors the risk of losing sight of people. The task of architecture therefore remains to find a balance: between speed and depth, between innovation and responsibility, between global trends and local characteristics. This is the only way to create architecture that not only moves with the times, but also stands the test of time.

The global discourse shows: The future of architecture lies in the interplay of space and time. Those who are open to this experiment can break new ground, initiate debates and design cities that are more than the sum of their buildings. Those who continue to rely on the tried and tested, on the other hand, will be overtaken by reality – and forgotten by history.

Conclusion: Designing time zones – architecture as the clockwork of the future

The design of time zones is more than just a fashionable buzzword. It is the new operating system of architecture. Anyone who recognizes time as a resource, uses digital tools wisely and sees sustainability not as a brake but as an accelerator will turn buildings into real machines of the future. The German-speaking world is at the beginning of a turning point – between tradition and innovation, between deceleration and real time. Now is the time to decide who will set the pace of tomorrow. Architecture has it in its own hands. It just has to seize the moment.

09.10.2025

Design, Translated: Branchennews

Searching for Clues on Slate Islands

Building design

The poetry collection "Schiefern" by Esther Kinsky explores the analogy between human memory and metamorphic rock. Photo: Suhrkamp — The poetry collection "Schiefern"

Esther Kinsky’s poetry collection *Schiefern* explores the analogy between human memory and metamorphic rock—a sensory quest for the inanimate.

Esther Kinsky’s poetry collection *Schiefern* explores the analogy between human memory and metamorphic rock. Photo: Suhrkamp

The poetry collection “Schiefern”

On the map, they appear as small specks off the west coast of Scotland—so small that it’s easy to overlook them. You have to seek them out specifically to find them. You don’t just stumble upon them. Scotland’s Inner Hebrides, an archipelago at the northernmost tip of the United Kingdom, are a popular travel destination. Those who come here yearn for the unspoiled, the wild, the rugged. For the salty wind that tangles itself in your hair and clothes, making them stiff. For the Atlantic, whose waves crash against the black rock. Gneiss. Granite. Basalt. Slate.

Esther Kinsky, a translator and poet who was awarded the “Hain. Geländeroman” in the fiction category, has dedicated a collection of poems with the simple yet evocative title “Schiefern” to slate and to the region where this sedimentary rock was quarried for centuries.

The quarries on the Slate Islands are still there, as are the remnants of an industry that has since been shut down. Kinsky embarks on a journey of discovery and captures her observations of nature in words that are enigmatic to decipher and sweep the reader away into the remoteness of the Inner Hebrides, to the black, roaring sea, above which the reader drifts, like an invisible figure floating in the space of thought that Kinsky weaves with her words.

It is precisely there, in this space of the imagination, that the analogies between something thoroughly lifeless and the human can be found. Few people appear in this three-part volume, yet it is by no means lacking in humanity. It is, in fact, quite astonishing how sensually one can write about waves carrying spray and “rocks with a / surface like petrified, gentle ripples” without slipping into kitschy romanticism.

“Nature Writing”

Since the 18th century, nature has inspired writers to make it the central protagonist of their works. In the English-speaking world, “Nature Writing” refers to the expansive literary descriptions of trees, meadows, flowers, and downpours. In German, the terms “Naturpoesie” (nature poetry) or “Naturlyrik” (nature verse) have become established. Esther Kinsky has stood out in literature for years with this kind of nature poetry.

In 2013, in *Naturschutzgebiet* (Nature Reserve), she wove together four cycles of poems about decay and growth, taking a neglected city park as her starting point. If one were to classify Kinsky’s work as “Nature Writing,” she would be quick to disagree. In an interview with Deutschlandfunk, she once said that she did not see herself as part of the tradition of nature writing. The term is too vague, she said, and too broad in what it encompasses and what it does not. “Nature writing” can be anything, she says. Why not her latest work, *Schiefern*, one might counter?

The Layers of Time

Early on in *Schiefern*, the word “memory” appears—“as a space of absences, moved by the transparent hand of unpredictable synapses and incalculable shifts of deposits in the slowly formed and deepened furrows and folds of the brain.” Kinsky is concerned with the layers of time that accumulate over memories. First very gently, then more clearly, she draws linguistic parallels between human memory and the history preserved on the surface of boulders, over which the tides and the passage of time have swept for millions of years.

The past lies preserved in the STEIN; it need only be read from its folds, as if the STEIN were an old, beloved elder whose weathered face bears the traces of life. Kinsky writes of “signs without hand or foot / in STEIN that no one / can make sense of / except as the greatest possible past.”

“Schiefern” could be the modern sequel to Adalbert Stifter’s 1853 collection of stories “Bunte Steine” and join the ranks of “Granit,” “Kalkstein,” and “Turmalin.” But as deceptively idyllic as Stifter’s detailed, Biedermeier-style depictions of nature are, Kinsky’s descriptions of the Slate Islands are anything but charming and cozy. The chill of the surroundings seeps through her words. There is a harshness in them that one would not want to imagine away.

Information about the book

Esther Kinsky: Schiefern.
Price: 24.00 euros
Austria: 24.70 euros
CH: 34.50 Swiss francs
Published: March 23, 2020
Hardcover, 103 pages
ISBN: 978-3-518-42921-1

30.10.2024

Project

Rakotzbrücke freshly restored

Building design

One of Lusatia’s most famous landmarks has been freshly renovated. The spectacular bridge structure is a highlight in the Azalea and Rhododendron Park in the east of Saxony.

One of Lusatia’s most famous landmarks has been freshly renovated. After years of renovation, the Rakotzbrücke is shining again. The spectacular bridge structure is an important highlight in the large azalea and rhododendron park in the east of Saxony.

The small village of Kromlauhas just over 300 inhabitants . Nevertheless, it can be seen in many photos. To be more precise, it is not the village that is the subject of the photos. Rather, it is the spectacular Rakotzbrücke bridge that fascinates. It is located in the middle of the large azalea and rhododendron park. The striking arch of this stone bridge is breathtaking. Today more than ever. After years of restoration, the bridge is once again visible.

Kromlau is a district of Gablenz in the district of Görlitz. Hardly anyone would know the village if it wasn’t home to the largest rhododendron park in Germany. It attracts many plant lovers. But many are also drawn there because it is home to the famous Rakotzbrücke bridge. The Kromlau Azalea and Rhododendron Park covers around 200 hectares. This large landscape park is the largest rhododendron park in Germany. Visitors do not have to pay admission. The Rakotzbrücke bridge and other stone sculptures are also accessible at all times.

Did you know? The park and flower festival has been held in the Kromlau Azalea and Rhododenron Park since 1965. Well over 30,000 visitors come to the annual festival, which takes place at Whitsun. By comparison, only just over 300 people live in Kromlau itself.

The beginnings at Gut Kromlau

A contemporary of the famous Hermann Ludwig Heinrich Prince von Pückler-Muskau acquired the Kromlau estate in 1842. Shortly afterwards, he began planting the first native and exotic trees and shrubs. He was also known as the little Pückler. As such, he spared no expense. He had ponds created on almost 800 acres and hills heaped up, which he crowned with oak trees. Rare trees and shrubs, mythological and rococo statues and basalt grottoes were created. The famous arch of the Rakotz Bridge is also one of them. It is made of boulders and basalt stone. The lord of the manor had this material brought in from various quarries in Saxon Switzerland and Bohemia. Ox carts mastered the transportation.

New owners, new activities

Friedrich Herrmann Rötschke exchanged the Kromlau estate with its Rakotzbrücke bridge for other building plots some 30 years after acquiring it. In the years that followed, ownership changed hands several times. It was not until 1889 that peace returned. Count von und zu Egloffstein-Arklitten acquired the site. He commissioned the horticultural inspector Georg Eichler to maintain the grounds. He added rhododendrons and azaleas to the existing trees and shrubs. Planted on a large scale, they contributed to the harmonious appearance of the park. The garden designer also planted certain flower varieties for sale. These generated welcome additional income. These in turn benefited the further development of the park. After the Second World War, the landscape park with the famous Rakotzbrücke bridge became public property. It was not until the mid-1960s that it received renewed attention. The park was once again maintained and reconstructed. The Rakotzbrücke bridge remained a special attraction.

You can see more impressions of the bridge in this video.

The Rakotz Bridge

Alongside Kromlau Castle, the Rakotz Bridge is one of the most important structures in the park. Its stone arch is unusually round. When its semicircle is reflected in the lake, a perfect circle appears in the water. Built from basalt and fieldstone, the bridge spans the Rakotzsee lake below over a length of 35 meters. Although numerous hiking trails cross the park, the bridge may no longer be entered.

Did you know? Only when the water level in the Rakotzsee is right does the reflection on the surface of the water complete the Rakotzbrücke into a perfect full circle. To prevent the water from gradually seeping into the ground, the lake bed was sealed with bentonite sealing sheets during the bridge renovation.

Rakotz Bridge equals Devil’s Bridge

The roots of the village of Kromlau lie in the Sorbian language. It is therefore not surprising that the name of the bridge is of Sorbian origin. Rakotz means crab in the Sorbian language. This is why the Rakotz Bridge is also known as the Devil’s Bridge. People used to believe that only the horned Beelzebub could build such a filigree bridge arch. Today, the bridge attracts photographers from all over the world. The photos usually also include the sculpture behind the bridge, the organ. The Rakotzbrücke’s reflective round arch made its biggest appearance in the fairytale film “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”.

Renovation of the Rakotzbrücke

The municipality of Gablenz is now the owner of the landscape park. In 2018, it was awarded funding from various federal, state of Saxony and EU programs. Since then, a lot has changed at the Rakotzbrücke bridge and in the rhododendron park. Various types of construction work have been carried out. In addition to the renovation of the Rakotzbrücke bridge, a group of basalt columns and the grotto between the Rakotzbrücke bridge and the flight of steps, which collapsed in 1956, were also renovated. The repairs have now been completed. The construction fence has been removed and the associated lake has also been filled with water again. The scaffolding around the Rakotzbrücke bridge was removed in November 2020. After the bridge was renovated, the lake was sealed. Because only a constant water level can bring out the mirror effect perfectly.

Did you know? The renovation of the Rakotzbrücke bridge initially went according to plan, but had to be interrupted due to an unexpected visitor. Two protected bat species, the greater mouse-eared bat and the pug bat, were hibernating in their hiding places on the bridge, which is why the renovation was suspended for a few months so as not to disturb the animals.

In addition to the famous Rakotzbrücke bridge, other sculptures have been given a new lease of life. The Richterstuhl stone group and the historic bridge on the island pond in the west of the park have also been renovated. Although it was not possible to hold a park festival in early summer 2021 due to the coronavirus, many visitors came to the reopening of the park. The entire park was upgraded over a total of four years. This includes 8.5 kilometers of park paths. Forgotten paths around the island pond were also rebuilt. A fountain ensures that the pond is filled with water again. The new Asian Bridge is now reflected here. New plants have also been planted. The main parking lot at the entrance to Kromlau has been given an information point with public toilets. This important cultural site has now been secured for the coming decades.

Fancy another bridge? Let us show you one of the longest pedestrian suspension bridges in the world – the “Arouca 516” in the Arouca Geopark.