In his April editorial, Bjarke Ingels, guest editor of Domus, explores the fundamental role that metal plays in our daily lives, a material that has become invisible yet essential in every aspect of our existence.
From the Centre Pompidou to space shuttles, metal is everywhere, forming the infrastructure on which our modern world rests.
Every system that makes up our civilisation, from power lines to factories, from warehouses to data centres, is wrapped in shells of metal, housing within it the metal machines that make everything work.
Global logistics move on steel means of transport: naval fleets, trains and lorries are all made from this material that connects every corner of the planet. Aircraft and spacecraft are designed with powder-coated aluminium alloys, while SpaceX’s innovative Starship challenges tradition with its stainless steel profile, a symbol of innovation and strength.
In his article, Ingels also reflects on the aesthetic and symbolic impact of metal: think of the white panels and black ceramic of the Space Shuttle, which inspired the futuristic visions of Star Trek and Star Wars. These imagined settings, entirely clad in metal, seem to foreshadow a technological future made of smooth, shiny and functional surfaces that speak to us of our relentless quest for perfection and innovation.
Metal, in fact, is the material that supports the invisible structure of our daily lives. Its presence, though discreet, is absolutely vital. This April issue of Domus explores how metals have become the beating heart of modernity, from the most technical forms to aesthetic finishes. Metals not only meet functional needs but are also able to tell stories, evolve over time and adapt to the needs of the present.
Metal is available in a surprising range of colours, finishes and alloys, ranging from the rawest and sandblasted to the most sophisticated, such as brushed, galvanised, stainless or oxidised metals. Although their application in construction is often limited to the surface, in order to guarantee fire resistance and waterproofing, their function goes well beyond mere aesthetics.
Historically, metals have been used since the earliest times for jewellery, weapons and tools. The ancient Romans, for example, used them to build aqueducts, many of which were lined with lead. This use of lead may also have been one of the factors that contributed to the decline of the Roman Empire, due to its toxic effects. In architecture, metals were used to decorate spires and roofs, such as the zinc roofs of Paris or the copper spires of Copenhagen.
Industrialisation made metal even more accessible and versatile. Steelworking revolutionised architecture, allowing the construction of monumental and modern structures that defined the skyline of industrial cities. One of the most emblematic works of this evolution is the Eiffel Tower, designed in 1889 by the engineer Gustave Eiffel. With its steel structure, the tower represents not only a technical triumph but also the beginning of a new era, in which metal became the symbolic material of modernity.
Bjarke Ingels, with his visionary approach, invites readers to reflect on how metal, in all its forms and applications, has become the essential element that holds together our society, our architecture and our future.
In the landscape of contemporary architecture, steel and aluminium are more than simple building materials. They have become the true protagonists of an aesthetic and functional revolution that has marked the evolution of the modern city. These metals, with their light yet strong structures, have given life to buildings that are as iconic as they are functional, transforming metropolises into landscapes of steel and glass that defy the laws of gravity.
What are the origins?
The story of this transformation begins with a bold vision. Four years later, George W.G. Ferris Jr., an engineer who measured himself against his peers in the field of innovation, designed the famous Ferris Wheel for the 1893 World’s Fair in Chicago. This event, nicknamed the White City, not only showcased the engineering genius of the time but also marked the beginning of a new era for architecture.
The structures, though adorned with plaster decorations, concealed beneath them a framework that anticipated the massive use of steel as a structural material.
Over the course of the twentieth century, some of the most influential architects demonstrated how metal could be transformed into an aesthetic and structural language. Le Corbusier, for example, promoted concrete as a material that went beyond its raw appearance, but it was Mies van der Rohe who consecrated steel as the symbol of modern architecture. The son of a stonemason, Mies reduced stone to mere ornament, letting steel support and give shape to buildings. From Villa Tugendhat (1930) to Farnsworth House (1951), his works are a hymn to structural purity: bones of steel covered by a skin of glass, a reductionism that made steel the true protagonist of his architecture.
The evolution of steel found its culmination in works such as Crown Hall (1956) and the Neue Nationalgalerie (1968), where every detail seems to reflect the designer’s intent to enhance the beauty of the metal structure. Lake Shore Drive (1951), the prototype of a universal building, and the Seagram Building (1958) are examples of how Mies shaped steel as a second skin for the buildings of the future, spreading his language throughout the North American continent.
The post-war period, especially in Los Angeles, saw a new approach to the use of steel. A group of young architects, with the Case Study Houses project (1945-1966), explored the potential of industrial materials, using metal as a fundamental component for a new post-war language. The Eames House (1949) is a perfect example: a structure of light steel frames with customisable façades, allowing you to choose your own habitat as if you were assembling a piece of furniture.
Bjarke Ingels, in his editorial, retraces the path that led steel and aluminium to become the true protagonists of contemporary architecture. For Ingels, his true “discovery” of metal as a building material occurs with the Centre Pompidou (1977) by Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers. The building, with its exposed structure, overturns traditional conventions, showing the raw and functional beauty of metals. The Lloyd’s building (1978-1986), also by Rogers, continues along this path, revealing the incredible aesthetics of stainless steel, without the need to mask it with paint or coatings.
The beauty of metal, however, does not lie only in its industrial perfection. The use of copper by Herzog & de Meuron for the façade of the Signal Box (1994-1999) or the adoption of raw steel by RCR and of I-beams by Enric Miralles have shown that metal can be poetic and rich, with all its potential for ageing and transformation.
Today, architects such as Junya Ishigami, Gerard Barron and Dominique Perrault continue to push the boundaries of metals, exploring their various expressions. Ishigami, for example, studies steel with an eye to ethereal lightness, while Barron collects polymetallic nodules from the ocean depths to create materials capable of transforming global energy, far from traditional extraction techniques. The work of Perrault, the pioneer of metal fabric in architecture, has transformed metal into a new language, in which the material itself becomes a vehicle of expression.
Meanwhile, the work of studios such as Atelier Deshaus and KWK Promes also shows how metal, in its various forms – from Corten steel to perforated anodised metal – can become a dynamic element that shapes space. Sam Chermayeff, with his furniture design inspired by vernacular language, and Muller Van Severen, who celebrates the lightness and elegance of aluminium tubes, show how metal can be as material as it is sensitive, as functional as it is aesthetic.
