The courtyard of MoMA PS1 in Queens was buzzing during Wednesday night's opening of Greater New York, now in its sixth edition. Our team shares first impressions from the expansive show, which included more than 50 New York City artists at the beginning of their careers.
Even long after the tell-tale odor of new paint has vanished, traditional paint can off-gas for months, releasing volatile organic compounds (VOCs) that have been linked to organ and nervous system damage, cancer, and infertility.
Rather than representing a simple return to the past, this renewed interest reflects a broader reconsideration of how architecture engages with materials, local resources, and environmental conditions.
A Gothic cathedral can take centuries to complete. A world exposition pavilion may stand for six months. A ritual structure in Kolkata rises and vanishes within five days. Yet each draws pilgrimage, shapes collective memory, and reorganizes urban life. If heritage has long been defined by what endures, architecture repeatedly shows that cultural authority can also belong to what gathers people.
Furniture made from mycelium or algae can decompose in five years, sure, but a well-made antique armoire outlives empires because no one throws it away. Columns takes that logic seriously. Handcrafted in solid oak, natural leather, and horsehair, the pieces are built to last a thousand years, which sounds like marketing hyperbole until you look at the joinery, the hand stitching, and the material choices. This is furniture designed to be inherited, repaired, and remembered.
As the weights touch, they get a bit musical and there's a kind of harmonic ring in your wall. It's like the house is alive. But with soulful age come other sounds: rattles, wind whistling through gaps and a homeowner's curses because the blasted contraptions won't open and close properly.