A few days ago, I came across a 1998 interview with the Munich architect Alexander von Branca. Known for projects such as the Neue Pinakothek in Munich and numerous religious buildings, von Branca reflected on architecture, the city, community, and the responsibilities of the architect. Around the same time, I learned about the exhibition Too Hot – Scorching Cities, New Ideas for Our Planet at the German Architecture Museum (DAM) in Frankfurt, which addresses the growing problem of urban overheating and explores possible responses to the climate crisis.
At first glance, these two subjects seem unrelated. On one side stands an architect of the post-war generation, concerned with questions of identity, history, and human experience. On the other is an exhibition focused on climate change, heat islands, water management, and urban adaptation strategies.
The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized that both are ultimately grappling with the same question:
How should architecture respond to the challenges of its time without losing sight of the human being?
One of the most striking aspects of von Branca’s reflections was that he did not understand architecture primarily as a matter of style. He was less interested in formal trends than in architecture’s capacity to express and support human existence.
Throughout the interview, he returned to the relationship between interior and exterior space, between individuality and community, between contemplation and distraction. Architecture, in his view, should not merely fulfill functions; it should create conditions in which human life can flourish.
In doing so, he touched upon one of architecture’s oldest concerns: how to create places that provide orientation, foster encounter, and cultivate a sense of belonging.
What is remarkable is how contemporary these observations still feel. The issues von Branca discussed do not appear resolved. If anything, they have become more pressing.
Reading the interview, I found myself wondering whether many of the questions von Branca raised were not merely products of a particular historical moment but intrinsic to architecture itself.
How should a building relate to the city?
How should the individual relate to the collective?
How can function, meaning, and beauty be reconciled?
How can architecture respond to the present without severing its connection to memory and history?
These are questions that preoccupied Vitruvius, shaped Renaissance theory, informed modern architecture, and continue to challenge architects today.
The answers change. The questions remain.
Particularly interesting is von Branca’s criticism of the often simplified interpretation of the modernist dictum ‚form follows function‘.
For him, the function of a building extendwd far beyond technical performance or organizational efficiency. A church, for example, does not merely shelter people from the rain. Its deeper purpose is to create the possibility of reflection, concentration, and spiritual gathering.
One does not need to accept this argument in its entirety to recognize its significance. Architecture has always possessed cultural and social functions alongside technical ones.
At the same time, it is worth remembering that the original dictum emerged in a context in which functionality could not be taken for granted. Modern architecture developed in opposition to decorative convention and historical imitation. For that reason, any simple opposition between function and meaning ultimately misses the complexity of the issue.
For all the strengths of von Branca’s perspective, its limitations are equally apparent.
His interpretation of architecture was deeply rooted in cultural and intellectual history. Broader social, political, and economic structures often remained in the background.
Yet the problems of contemporary cities do not arise solely from architectural attitudes. They are also shaped by land policy, transportation systems, investment logics, property structures, and political decision-making.
Any serious discussion of urban futures must therefore address both design and the conditions under which design operates.
But what does this have to do with climate change? This is where the connection to Too Hot becomes particularly interesting.
The exhibition at the German Architecture Museum examines how cities can respond to increasingly frequent and intense heat events. It explores issues such as shading, urban greenery, water management, and new strategies for creating more resilient urban environments.
Behind these technical and ecological questions, however, lies a profoundly human concern.
How do we create cities in which people can continue to live comfortably?
How do we preserve health, dignity, and social life under changing climatic conditions?
How do we create public spaces that are not merely efficient but genuinely habitable?
In this sense, the climate crisis does not replace older architectural questions. Rather, it intensifies them. Perhaps this is one of the most fascinating aspects of the current debate.
Many of the solutions being discussed today are, historically speaking, not new at all. Courtyards, arcades, thick walls, carefully controlled airflow, water features, and shaded public spaces have been part of architecture’s repertoire for centuries.
The climate crisis may therefore be forcing us to rediscover forms of architectural intelligence that receded during the era of abundant and inexpensive energy.
The challenge is not simply to revive these traditions, but to integrate them into the technological, ecological, and social realities of the twenty-first century.
This may ultimately be where von Branca’s relevance lies today. Not primarily in his stylistic preferences. Not in his position within the debates of postmodernism. Not even in his buildings. Rather, in his insistence that architecture must bring together different and often competing demands.
Today we would describe those demands differently: climate adaptation, resource conservation, social inclusion, economic viability, and cultural identity. Yet the underlying task remains the same. Architecture must do more than solve isolated problems. It must create relationships between them. For that reason, the question that links Alexander von Branca’s reflections with the concerns of Too Hot may be more relevant than ever:
How can we create a built environment that is simultaneously technically sound, ecologically responsible, economically realistic, and genuinely humane?
