Norman Foster is one of the world’s most celebrated architects. He established his namesake practice, Foster + Partners, in 1967, pioneering high-tech architecture through iconic structures such as Berlin’s Reichstag dome and London’s Gherkin. The Pritzker Prize laureate has redefined skylines globally over the course of five transformative decades of practice. Monocle sits down with Foster in Venice to discuss what the world should be thinking about now.

We’re meeting you in Venice. Why is an event like the Biennale important?
I remember being at a gathering in Aspen, Colorado, and one of the participants was Paul MacCready, who invented a device that tells pilots the best speed to fly a glider depending on conditions. I complimented him on the achievement of his man-powered flight and he wagged his finger and said, ‘What we should be talking about are the people who set the challenge of glider flying, which we have responded to.’ Venice is setting the challenge.
And what is that challenge in Venice?
That nothing happens by accident or chance – everything around us is designed. Things are either designed well or badly. It can be done casually and without too much thought – but it’s still designed. Good design is not about how much you spend, it’s about how wisely you spend it. It all comes down to attitude. It’s important because we know that we can improve the quality of all lives through good design.
Why is quality of life an important consideration for you?
We should be talking about the quality of urban life. Cities are the future and we have to improve the quality of life in them. This is also about our pleasure and enjoyment. It’s also about beauty. All of this relates to everything from architecture and infrastructure to energy. We need to ask if we are going to get a kick out of looking at a countryside completely covered by wind turbines? Are we going to get a kick out of solar panels that have destroyed a meadow?
What are some good infrastructure and energy solutions that ensure quality of life too?
We should think about nuclear. If we come down to data and we take emotion out of it the facts are clear. Depending on the estimate, between seven and 10 million people die every year through invisible, noxious fossil-fuel fumes. A lot of those are kids burning fossil fuel for heating and cooking. As an alternative, you can take a compact nuclear battery and deliver energy that can power an entire Manhattan city block. In doing so, you take out all the dangers of centralising energy. Such an option is still by a huge margin the safest, cleanest, most compact energy solution – and you have total control of the waste from cradle to grave.
You’re in Venice showing a project created in partnership between the Norman Foster Foundation and Porsche. Why was it important for you to establish a foundation?
It’s about bringing the best of academia together with an extraordinary network of world experts on every aspect of urbanity and combining that with hands-on experience in a city that’s now developing into specialities. One example is city science – the use of digital tools to explore the effects of design decisions such as planting more trees and the effects that might have on air quality and both vehicular and pedestrian traffic. We want to pass on knowledge from professionals to those who serve at a political level and at an expert level, while preserving archives for future researchers.
The project with Porsche is a shimmering 37-metre-long bridge on the edge of the Arsenale in Venice. It extends to a floating pontoon on a lagoon that is currently being used as a mooring point for water bikes. What’s the ambition behind this?
We want to show that exploring new forms of mobility can be fun and enjoyable. If you go down there and you get on one of those water bikes and start to pedal across the lagoon, I bet that you’ll find yourself smiling. It’s about asking questions and looking at alternatives. What if this was an alternative mode of transport to a boat in Venice?
What are some of those alternatives for this project?
We can ask lots of questions. What if you can go to the edge of the lagoon and an app calls one for you on demand, and then when you get to your destination there’s a land-based version to take you elsewhere? What if there’s a machine that’s between the conventional automobile and a bike, a machine which can go on a motorway as well as in a walkable neighbourhood? These projects should stimulate thoughts about the future. The future is now. Today is the first day of the future.
As heatwaves stretch longer, affecting more people and cities across the world, many centres of human life are becoming increasingly unliveable. More greenery, shade and water would help but these alone aren’t enough. We also need cool spaces where the temperature, noise and light levels allow our bodies to rest. Fortunately, bringing urban temperatures down is a challenge that humanity has faced for millennia and there’s a lot that we can learn from ancestral technologies. For example, ancient Persian structures such as the yakhtchal or badguir offer effective but low-technology design solutions.
A yakhtchal is a vast communal fridge built from porous materials (eggshells, ground plants and even goat hair), designed to hold ice harvested in winter and keep food cool during summer. A badguir is a wind tower that catches hot air, channels it towards cold underground water, then circulates the cooled air back into living spaces: passive air conditioning making use of climate knowledge, materials and physics.
As a designer and artist, I have tried to reinterpret some of this thinking for today. With architect Imma Sierra, I designed a piece called “Pavillon de l’air”, a covered bench in a semicircle with a slanted fabric roof providing shading throughout the day. The roof is coated in beeswax, which allows rainwater to flow down ventilated terracotta walls below, where it’s stored. When heat warms the hollow bricks through which air can flow, the water is released, cooling the structure through evapotranspiration. The properties of the pavilion’s materials bring temperatures down without electricity.

We also need to make more use of underground spaces. Beneath the streets of Paris (topping Monocle’s 2025 liveable cities index), for instance, there are old railway tunnels, underground chambers and more. These places – La Petite Ceinture, the quarries and catacombs – are naturally cool and quiet. We explored these subterranean locations for a project called “14C”, another collaboration with architect Imma Sierra, which we are showing at this year’s Venice Biennale. Though often inaccessible or neglected, such spaces have enormous potential as sanctuaries from extreme heat. By incorporating elements such as natural light, reflective surfaces, plants and art, we could turn them into inviting underground piazzas where people can gather, cool down and reset.
I collaborate a lot with scientists to ensure that my projects are grounded in data. This was how the “14C” project discovered that the temperature beneath Paris stabilises at a depth of 10.84 metres, a fact that could inform the creation of effective and sustainable cooling solutions in the future.
Though I like low-technology solutions, I’m not against innovation (“14C” wouldn’t have been possible without thermal-imaging cameras). Electric cars reduce noise pollution. Ancestral technologies and new ones don’t need to contradict each other. We must combine ancient and cutting-edge design, with a little more attention given to simpler solutions.
We hear a lot about smart cities but those conversations shouldn’t just be about sensors and data. A yakhtchal, a shaded piazza, a quiet underground tunnel that’s open to the public – all of these are smart. Climate resilience can come from new technology but also from making the most of what already exists: the sun, the wind, the materials at hand.
Read next: Monocle’s 2025 Quality of Life Survey: The world’s 10 most liveable cities
About the writer:
Clémence Althabegoïty is a Paris-based designer and visual artist. She is exhibiting her video installation “14C” at the 2025 Venice Biennale. As told to Monocle Paris bureau chief Simon Bouvier.
This essay originally appeared in the fifth installment of Monocle’s Companion series – browse the entire series in our shop.
How do you spend your evenings when the city is baking, the air is still and it’s logistically impossible to head to the mountains or down to the coast? Do you find a shady terrace, crack open a chilled Super Bock and hope that the temperature dips below 25C before midnight? Do you crank up the AC, hydrate and stretch out on the sofa with the remote control in hand? Or do you opt for a more natural approach to cooling and open up your windows in the hope of a cool, fragrant cross breeze?
By the time I departed our Zürich office on Friday the temperature was 34C, the city was hopping with pedestrians and cyclists pouring into town, and even though public schools don’t break for another month it felt like the first official summer eve. Before leaving home I had lowered the awnings and closed most of the apartment windows, save for two left slightly ajar to allow for some airflow. On return the abode was remarkably cool (the building is a brutalist concrete affair from the late 1960s) and within a few minutes the stage had been set for a perfect Friday evening: a bottle of Oeil de Perdrix was opened and poured, curry cashews from Mercès in Barcelona in the bowl, NRJ Maroc was pumping out French beats from the radio and full prep for a barbecue was on the go in the kitchen. By the time dinner hit the table at 21.15, the mercury had dropped, a breeze had picked up and boats on the lake beyond were heading back to their docks. Over a chilled red from a lakeside vineyard we reviewed the past week (Ottawa, Toronto, Zürich, Abu Dhabi, Bahrain and Barcelona – all in six days) and the plan for the weeks ahead (Paris, Geneva, Copenhagen, Biarritz, Paris, London).
At 22.00, dishes were cleared, swim trunks pulled on and towels draped over shoulders. Our local bathing spot is a three-minute walk from the front door and given the warm evening I was expecting the lawn and stone walls to be filled with Zürchers knocking back rosé, chatting and canoodling. While I like the sense of community created by our little swimming set-up, I was happy to find the parkette quite empty – save for a couple who’d swum quite far out. Shirts off, we dove in, swam out and looked down the lake at Zürich twinkling in the distance. Perfection.
Back on the platform, the other pair of swimmers were drying off. We nodded and exchanged a few words of delight at the magic of such a simple pleasure. Our upcoming quality of life issue focuses on ten cities that each excel in a specific lane and though we might not have a winner in the swimmable category, it should be a focus of every city hall to ensure that citizens have access to a cool, clean body of water where people can take the edge off, clear heads and sleep well. If you don’t live in such a city, the Monocle apartment is available this July. Drop my colleague Izumi (id@monocle.com) a note if you’d like to book.