Adaptive Reuse Playbook: Turning Obsolescence into Value By: Shahbaz Ghafoori Buildings and structures often outlive their original purpose. Adaptive reuse transforms this obsolescence into value—preserving embodied energy, maintaining cultural resonance, and giving new life to underused or abandoned assets. As land becomes scarcer and sustainability imperatives tighten, the adaptive reuse playbook offers methods to breathe new life into existing built fabric using creative design, community engagement, and strategic policy support. Why Adaptive Reuse Matters Demolition involves waste—both material and cultural—and significant carbon emissions. Reuse mitigates these impacts by retaining structural shells, architectural elements, and site history. Projects like old factories turned into galleries or warehouses into mixed-use housing exemplify how adaptive reuse can preserve memory, generate social value, and reduce environmental cost. Reuse is not a fallback...
Restoration, Not ReArchitecture: Why the IRIB Glass Building Deserves Respect, Not a Design Contest
By Shahbaz Ghafoori
The IRIB Glass Building in Tehran, designed in the late 1960s by the Office of Abdol Aziz Farmanfarmaian, is not just another public structure. It is one of the most important brutalist buildings in Asia and a landmark of modern Iranian architecture. Its bold use of exposed concrete and transparent glass reflects both technical confidence and cultural sensitivity, combining global modernism with local context.
With its distinctive form, detailed planning, and clear relationship to the urban surroundings, the building goes far beyond function. It carries symbolic weight; as part of Iran’s architectural legacy and as a spatial memory linked to national media and identity.
Recently, the Roads and Urban Development Minister proposed a design competition to "ReArchitecture"(renovate) this building, using the Boomoosa urban design competition as a reference point. But the Boomoosa case, while highly publicized, was marked by major issues; such as lack of interdisciplinary input, weak legal structure, and unclear public benefit. Presenting it now as a successful model raises concerns about how architectural heritage is being approached at the policy level.
In international practice, heritage buildings of this kind are not redesigned through open competitions. Instead, they are carefully restored using original archives and expert consultation; often involving people connected to the original design office. The goal is not to reimagine the building but to preserve its identity, materials, proportions, and meaning.
Turning the restoration of the IRIB Glass Building into a design contest risks turning a technical and historical task into a visual show; detached from the building’s significance. Creativity is valuable in architecture, but in this case, fidelity and precision matter more than novelty.
At a time when Iran faces serious challenges—such as housing shortages, delayed infrastructure, and fragmented institutions; redirecting public focus to media; driven competitions feels disconnected from the country’s actual needs. This building deserves careful attention, not symbolic gestures.
A better approach would be to form a specialized working group: experienced architects, restoration experts, structural engineers, urban planners, and representatives familiar with the original design. Their task should be to lead a precise, respectful restoration based on original documents; not to replace the building’s identity with a new design.
The IRIB Glass Building is not a blank slate. It represents a moment in Iranian history; a vision of media, modernism, and national ambition. Its restoration should protect that meaning. Changing its form, materials, or structure would erase more than concrete and glass; it would erase memory.
This is not a space for architectural reinvention. It is a place for technical care, cultural respect, and historical continuity.