Curator and educator Lesley Lokko’s comments in the opening keynote of this year’s Venice Architecture Biennale—poised as they were charged in the face of the opening of probably the most significant architectural conclave in the world—were not only indicative of a larger systemic flaw in its somewhat rather closed ecosystems and conception, but also extremely timely, placing a square spotlight on the very event they were supposed to flag. Her criticism arose from the inability of a number of these events and conclaves to address their own (perhaps indirect) ecological footprint, and a number of African nations' people being denied visas to the Schengen area to be in attendance at the Biennale—both speaking to bureaucratic structuralisms that the Biennale’s curatorial direction seemed to address. The Metaverse on the other hand, as abstract or as specific in definition as it may be for anybody who has engaged with the space, was conceived as precisely a means to overcome constraints in the broadest sense, both systemic and creative. While governed by a selection of emulatory laws from the 'real' world, the digital, virtual proponent of it in the Metaverse was governed by its own laws, unencumbered, but also very much designed as a way to bridge these encumbrances. While there is the essential question of access, and whether it is truly democratic and of universal accord, still associated with the Metaverse, it can still be said to be fundamentally more democratic than forums like the Venice Biennale that do depend upon the geography of the region they are held in. The first edition of the Metaverse Architecture Biennale, held in October this year, does hold this ethos at its core.

It is extremely important to note that even when they are pitted against each other, neither substitutes the other. While that juxtaposition is important, each of them holds distinct places in the overall polemics of the long ongoing argument on architectural programming. Geared towards creation and the proliferation of a creative spirit in the virtual sphere, the Metaverse, a continually evolving ‘space’ in its own right, is the digital manifestation of a sandbox for architects. Its applications, particularly in the post-pandemic era, have certainly evolved from a space for simulating real-time architectural builds to a shared, online place for virtual cohabitation with increasing complexity and a greater degree of assimilation. Patrik Schumacher, principal of Zaha Hadid Architects and the successor of the eponymous legend, has been a fierce advocate of the potential of the Metaverse and digital architecture, drawing the ire of many a theorist and practitioner in architecture owing to concerns over its capacity for immersion, and the realism (or its supposed aversion to it) in the process. Schumacher, who also professes these tenets in his studio at the AA School’s DRL Lab, co-created by him, has been working on two interesting projects that are entirely defined by the mechanics of the Metaverse. He sat down with Amit Gupta, Founder and Editor-in-chief of STIR, along with Sergey Nadtochiy, curator of the Metaverse Architecture Biennale and CEO of Dearch Space, to mull over the many possibilities that this supposed future realm provides while talking about these projects.

In a world of shrinking means wherein every global challenge that architecture is deemed to play a part in solving is magnified manifold, the prospect of a digital space like the Metaverse is both freeing as well as conjectural. The two projects by ZHA and Schumacher, named Liberland and Metrotopia, reflect both those positions, while also extending the reflection of resource dispensation and functionality, which is part of the evolving debate on these spaces. The first of the two, Liberland, is inherently politically charged and is an interesting manifestation of the way that politics finds a spot in the digital realm as an insert driven by the designer, just as AI does end up reflecting inherent human biases. A political entity on an unclaimed piece of land between Croatia and Serbia, Liberland (officially called the Free Republic of Liberland) is a yet unrecognised micronation and its presence in the Metaverse as a conglomeration of broadly defined urban blocks ends up defining its aspirations as a real place, seemingly from ground zero. Schumacher and his team at ZHA have been involved in creating that masterplan and conjuring up an “anticipatory digital twin of the actual place”. Metrotopia, on the other hand, launched at the Venice Architecture Biennale this year in an e-exhibition, is envisioned as a virtual communication hub for the global design community. Along with fully designed sophisticated spaces geared towards driving collaboration, Metrotopia also houses extremely detailed miniatures of contemporary iconic structures by a number of high profile global architectural offices including the likes of MAD Architects and Coop Himmelb(l)au, that find consonance with ZHA’s repertoire charged by parametricism and tectonism.

Despite his divisiveness as a prominent figure in the architectural fraternity, there is no denying that Schumacher has been an extremely vocal campaigner for this digital space, with the larger mission of "decentralising intelligence systems to drive world progress." While the latter does speak to the same democratic outlook, valid questions of data security, truly democratic, grassroots access beyond the architectural fraternity, and the fundamentalism of creation in architecture, among many apprehensions about the metaverse, persist.

All these provocations and more – click on the cover video to watch the full conversation.