Cities often evolve with far too little consideration for the public realm between and around buildings. To start with, I’d like to understand how your disciplines can work together to ensure that future development makes the most of these precious and often overlooked spaces.

Chris Bosse (CB): It’s important to emphasize that landscape is about the public realm, whereas architecture often focuses too much on objects. We’re trying to shift the focus from objects to places. Anyone can design an object—whether round, square, green, or blue—and that's often a matter of personal taste, experienced primarily by those inside the building. The public realm, however, is about everyone else’s experience. You might visit only a few buildings in your lifetime, but you constantly engage with the public realm around them.

Michael Rowlands (MR): A building can be beautiful, and people may admire it from a distance, but they will typically experience a city by moving through its public spaces. The most critical aspect of a vibrant urban environment often lies in the dialogue between architecture and landscape and how the building engages with the ground plane. Urban life unfolds through movement and interaction, where the true success of a city isn’t just in isolated structures but in how these buildings contribute to a cohesive, engaging environment at the ground level.

CB: The public realm is where a city’s inhabitants gather, and it, therefore, becomes a valuable democratic space that can be a tool for transforming lives. Take the example of the Central Park project in Ho Chi Minh City. Traditionally, parks there are gated, with fences and security guards, and they close at certain times. Our approach for this new central park aimed to create a space dedicated to health, well-being, leisure, and sports, as well as retail and entertainment. We envisioned theaters, weekend vegetable markets, music concerts, bicycle tracks, and skate ramps, with circulation encouraging people to move in continuous, organic loops rather than walking in straight lines past rows of roses and palm trees.

MR: Indeed. Landscapes and public realms must be high-performing and offer more than singular viewpoints. It’s not just about creating a backdrop but about considering how the space functions for different communities and user groups. Kalgoorlie City Centre in regional Western Australia, for example, has the potential to revitalize its town center socially, culturally, and economically. Our design supports the daily rituals of the community by fostering social interaction through play, outdoor dining, and entertainment opportunities, which in turn supports economic development and trade by attracting locals, tourists, and new businesses to the historic heart of the city.

How important is it for architects and landscape architects to work together on projects like this from an early stage to get the best out of both of your skill sets?

MR: It's incredibly important. It’s impossible to achieve optimal outcomes if the landscape and architecture teams aren’t communicating. The best results happen when there’s a strong dialogue and a willingness to share ideas and listen to different perspectives. Regarding the interface between the building and the landscape, we find that even minor shifts in the location or orientation of the built form can create much better connectivity and function in open spaces. Landscape architects also tend to think beyond the site and consider how a project fits within the broader fabric of the environment, both spatially and ecologically, which is essential.

CB: Historically, there has been an artificial separation between disciplines. Instead of a holistic approach, there has been a shift to a siloed system where everyone has their box to check. The architect designs, the landscape architect picks the plants, the engineer adds waterproofing, and the project manager ensures it all stays on budget. A transdisciplinary approach is necessary today, bringing everyone together to create a holistic design. The boundaries between architecture, landscape, ecosystems, urban ecology, and the public realm are blurring. Nature and technology are beginning to merge once more—buildings can become ecosystems, façades can become green walls, and public spaces can flow through buildings. There are beautiful examples of this, particularly in Asia.

MR: When those boundaries are blurred, the landscape becomes intertwined with architecture, whether climbing up the walls of a building or passing through the middle. It’s no longer clear-cut. That’s when the best outcomes are achieved. We now understand the value of vegetation and access to natural systems, both for our health and the planet's. The importance of landscape is being recognized increasingly, and the separation between architecture and landscape is disappearing.

This increased focus on the importance of ecology and nature in urban environments is tied to the climate. Can we talk about how the climate in different regions influences your work and approach?

CB: To start with, the idea of a “perfect” climate or ideal conditions also reflects the compartmentalization of disciplines. For example, who decided that an office must always be 21 degrees Celsius, with a set humidity level and specific lighting? We shut out nature to create these controlled internal climates, which can result in sick buildings and sick people—there’s no ventilation, no natural light, and no connection to the landscape. Now, people are rediscovering more flexible building envelopes and integrating landscapes into interiors.

When it comes to different climates, trying to replicate a "perfect" climate everywhere doesn’t work. In places like Ho Chi Minh City, the hot and humid climate requires designers to embrace specific strategies, such as incorporating green façades and shaded outdoor areas with canopies that provide shelter during rain. It’s important to respond to the local climate rather than impose an international standard on every situation. This localized approach ensures that public spaces are functional and inviting for their intended users.

MR: What often makes different places beautiful is, indeed, their climate. In Southeast Asia, humidity shapes behaviors and the types of activities people enjoy or the times of day they’re active. In the Middle East or northern Australia, most activities happen in the evenings, while in Perth, which has a Mediterranean climate, they happen in the mornings. These variations make places unique. It’s not about replicating the “ideal” conditions; it’s about adapting to and working with the local environment rather than against it. Whether working in Australia’s dry interior or a desert in the Middle East, we are becoming increasingly familiar with designing for dry environments. In our practice, there is a growing understanding of the complex ecological relationships that underpin these environments, as well as an embrace of the distinct qualities of the landscapes and a shift towards lighter interventions and sensitive designs that reveal rather than exploit the natural environment.

How much do you try to learn from the past, from historical ways that people have dealt with the climate for millennia? Do you look at old buildings and landscaping approaches to inform designs that make use of contemporary technologies but are still informed by traditional methods of climate control?

CB: It's interesting to look at places like Dubai or Saudi Arabia, where cities were built with natural materials that respond to the climate through features like wind towers, self-shading, solid façades with small openings, and nighttime purging of hot air.

Then came the 20th century, and suddenly, cities wanted to be like Chicago, New York, or London. They built wide boulevards with sealed surfaces, no shade, and glass towers without solar mitigation, replicating Western models that didn’t suit the local environment. Now, areas like Diriyah Gate in Riyadh showcase developments that build on the foundations of traditional Saudi forms of habitation. Smaller-scale arcades, shaded and sheltered spaces, and a remarkable integration of landscape and architecture are evident. The landscape features Saudi Arabian plants, chosen for their low water needs and ability to provide a lot of shade throughout the year. These plants are responsive not only to the climate but also to the culture. So, learning from how things were originally done and finding a contemporary version seems like the right approach almost anywhere. Of course, on a larger scale, with modern technologies.

MR: We are now seeing a renaissance in the Middle East with a resurgence of development and projects. There was logic in how things were built in older cities—compact forms of development that were self-shading, used thermal mass, had courtyards to purge hot air at night, and included green spaces within the urban fabric. Water was treated as a precious resource and used strategically to cool spaces. There’s a lot to learn from traditional approaches, and we are increasingly finding that the most appropriate solutions for environmental challenges are achieved where the wisdom of ancient practice is combined with the latest in modern technology and innovation.

I'm curious about the Masdar Plaza project, Chris, in terms of using technology informed by biological systems. It seems like a fascinating example of working with the Middle Eastern climate.

CB: Masdar Plaza marked a turning point in applying the logic of moving from an object to a place. Our proposal for the center of a zero-carbon city inverted the traditional approach to designing these spaces by pushing the program to the edges and creating an oasis-inspired outdoor plaza, similar to Piazza San Marco in Venice or the heart of other historical European cities.

Instead of giving people something to look at, we created a place to look out from, gather, host festivals, markets, and interact. Initially, there was pushback with concerns about it being too hot for such a space. Still, we responded by designing adaptive umbrellas that open and close, collecting solar energy and water during the day. At night, they close and transform into a lighting feature, allowing hot air to rise and creating a more comfortable microclimate.

In terms of landscape, Masdar also shifted the view from landscape as something purely aesthetic to something functional. Landscape plays a huge role in managing the climate, humidity, water, and food production. We introduced green areas running through the high-density urban environment, ensuring no one is more than two minutes away from a green lung. This proximity to green space is essential to quality of life.

Both of your practices work on projects ranging in scale from master planning to more localized interventions. When working on large-scale projects, how much engagement do you have with the communities that will live there? Do you speak with local people before developing master plans or landscape projects that aim to meet their specific needs?

MR: Due to our work in different markets, we've developed a sensitivity to and appreciation for weaving culture into our projects in meaningful ways. The degree to which we engage with the community depends on where we work. For example, in Australia, community engagement is a big part of the process. People are invested in what happens in their neighborhoods and cities, so community consultation is built into the project. This adds great value because we gain insight into how people use spaces, their needs, and their patterns. Local communities are often experts on their own place, and this engagement brings a deeper understanding of place, people, and a richness of ideas.

CB: As Michael pointed out, it depends on the scale of the project. When designing a house for a family, you work intimately with the client. On a larger scale, such as a master plan for a million people, much work often goes into it before we even start. Clients may engage consultants to conduct demographic analyses and community consultations. However, on our teams, we always try to include community members. In Australia, for instance, we often involve community elders, local architects, sociologists, or other relevant individuals who bring interesting cultural overlaps to the project.

These community members have deep knowledge—historical, cultural, or even material-based. For example, they might explain the significance of why certain elements in Saudi Arabia, like white door frames or triangular windows, are used. These details give us a softer, culturally informed approach that can be crucial.

MR: We engage with local communities, both in urban environments and in more rural, regional projects. We also work with traditional owners of the land, and in the last decade, there’s been a stronger emphasis on authentic engagement with First Nations communities. It adds another layer of significance to the project when we can recognize and incorporate indigenous knowledge and culture.

Working with traditional owners teaches us to see the land through a different lens. Aboriginal communities have lived in harmony with the land for thousands of years, and their connection to it is deep and vital. They offer solutions to challenges like ecological decline because they’ve maintained that balance for millennia. This ancient wisdom is becoming increasingly relevant as we seek ways to rebuild ecologies and living systems. It's been great to see this evolution, but there’s still a long way to go.

Shifting from traditional approaches to more futuristic ways of working, how can cities in arid regions use data and predictive modeling to anticipate and prepare for climate change?

MR: There is an evolving discussion, especially around AI and climate modeling. We use iterative modeling on projects, working with consultants like Buro Happold or Transsolar. They help us understand the existing context and use our designs to test how well we mitigate certain climate conditions or improve comfort levels.

It will be interesting to see how things evolve with the power of computing. We're talking more about digital twins on projects now. As projects evolve, we can not only model the existing condition but also test different future scenarios. Seeing how fast-track design processes bring more efficiency could be fascinating. The real solution lies in combining ancient wisdom with cutting-edge technology. It’s not just about using one or the other—it’s about fusing traditional knowledge with advanced tools, and that’s where we’ll find the long-term answers.

CB: Absolutely. With the technologies available today—like algorithmic modeling—architects are no longer limited to straight-line grids as they were a century ago. It is possible to design urban spaces that mimic natural growth patterns, such as the way coral reefs evolve. These algorithms adapt and multiply in response to new circumstances, allowing designers to combine high-tech approaches with natural logic. Instead of trying to tame nature by fencing it into a square plot, we can create urban ecosystems where nature thrives alongside human life.

This concept of "digital nature" is similar to how digital twins exist in building technology, where all the systems are modeled in 3D. Now, it is also possible to model landscapes—knowing exactly which seeds are planted, how they’ll grow, what nutrients they need, and how they’ll affect the environment regarding humidity, light, and shade. It might sound like science fiction, but this merging of nature and technology is becoming more tangible, and for the first time, it’s achievable. Applying AI technology to architecture and urban planning will allow architects to create cities where nature and humanity live in symbiosis.