Mark Twain is said to have once averred that the least that architecture could do was “improve the weather”. It’s a useful aphorism in any climate but has particular relevance to Hannibal, Missouri, along the Mississippi River, where Twain was raised (just ignore the fact that the attribution is apocryphal). In a place where the summer humidity builds to an afternoon crescendo of crackling thunderstorms, architecture has a responsibility to help and can improve people’s quality of life.
 
Enter the porch. In simple terms, it’s a raised platform with columns that support a canopy or roof. While it was originally just a primitive, hut-like structure, the porch today has achieved high levels of sophistication, especially in a domestic American context. Finely tuned to weather and climate, it provides shade and helps to cool the exterior of a building. It’s also a liminal space. Like a townhouse’s stoop, it has a social function beyond the privacy of a home’s interiors. It’s a vantage point, a threshold.

The porch is deeply rooted in US culture. The classic 1960 novel To Kill a Mockingbird takes place almost entirely on a veranda; in many ways, it’s a dialogue of sorts across a street between young Scout Finch and Boo Radley. In the early and mid-20th century, photojournalist Walker Evans captured numerous stoops and lives of quiet dignity in his photos of the Great Depression and New Deal America. Edward Hopper’s paintings have a porch-like quality too, while Bell Hooks’ poetry highlights porches as places of public appearance, especially for women. But the importance of this space isn’t as widely acknowledged as it should be. The US has often been viewed as a nation of houses but if you look at these buildings, from schoolhouse to house of worship, you see that their porches make them stand out.

The more I have investigated this idea, the more I have discovered that the porch – a staple of the American South – is thriving across the country. Its shape and scale are evolving. At the height of the coronavirus pandemic, a local food co-operative in Fayetteville, Arkansas, relocated to a downtown building, renovating the interiors but also constructing a broad, high veranda. It’s a simple feature with columns supporting a robust roof canopy, furniture for gathering and space to enjoy a meal or watch children playing. It’s not just the prominence that’s important; it’s also the shade, the captured breezes, the lowered temperature and the view outwards to the city’s main thoroughfare and surrounding landscape.

Charlie Hailey, author of The Porch: Meditations at the Edge of Nature, writes that “to think like a porch is to witness and to change our point of view”. This is what the US Pavilion at the 2025 Venice Biennale does with Porch: An Architecture of Generosity. In previous years, the Pavilion hasn’t been as accessible; putting a stoop in front of the building seemed like the obvious answer. As the name suggests, it’s a place for all to enjoy – to find respite and engage with others. Twain – or whoever made the comment – would have approved. It might not change the world but at least it improves the weather.
 
MacKeith is the lead commissioner for the US Pavilion at the Venice Biennale. He is also the dean and professor of architecture at the Fay Jones School of Architecture and Design, University of Arkansas.
 
This piece was published in ‘The Monocle Companion: Fifty Ideas on Architecture, Design and Building Better’, which is out now. The fifth title in our Companion series of paperbacks, it’s packed with fresh ideas on design, creativity and the built environment, with a focus on the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale, which runs until 23 November. 

Indonesia has caught the attention of entrepreneurs seeking a new high-end manufacturing base where they can tap into traditional know-how (writes Joseph Rachman). Belgian businessman Philippe Delaisse, co-founder of furniture manufacturer Ethnicraft, is one such example.

Today Indonesia is one of the world’s biggest teak producers. The timber is renowned for the beauty of its colour and grain, and the natural oil that helps to protect it from termites and the weather. These elements form the core of Delaisse’s business. “The way that we win and ensure we’re competitive here is by embracing the raw materials and craftsmanship,” he says.

Ethnicraft’s main operations hub of some 1,600 workers is in the coastal town of Tegal. The set-up might feature high-precision machines, sturdy safety shoes and modern production lines but the dedication to material and craft remains rooted in tradition. In a country where the previous president, Joko Widodo, built his fortune selling chairs, sofas and beds to the world, the hope is that others will follow.
 
This piece first appeared on monocle.com. Click here to read on.

Julian Klausner debuted his first collection for Dries Van Noten at the latest Paris Fashion Week Menswear (writes Natalie Theodosi). He received a standing ovation for the line-up, which included mood-boosting colour palettes and intriguing contrasts between traditional tailoring and more daring designs. His inspiration? Precious moments such as strolling along a beach at dawn, shirt unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up. Minutes after taking his bow, Klausner caught up with Monocle to tell us more about his design process. 

Is it important for you to express new ideas through texture, pattern and colour when you debut a collection? 
It’s important that the collections feel generous. In many ways, I am still introducing myself. This sense of generosity, with a certain opulence, is central to the brand. I want to embrace a spirit of freedom, so I’ve been allowing myself to enjoy the process and play with embroidery and colour. I wanted to introduce bold, joyful tones. Working with fabric to achieve saturated hues – the brightest red, for example – was one of the most exciting parts of the process.

Cummerbunds accented many of the looks. What drew you to this piece?
Designing menswear felt like discovering a new toy. The cummerbund became a piece through which we could be expressive. I like the idea of smaller garments within a collection that people can wear in their own ways.

Are there parallels in the way that you design clothes for men and women? 
Dries Van Noten always has touches of femininity within its menswear, in the same way that womenswear often leans into masculine styles. Depending on the season, they both mirror and contrast each other.
 
Want further reading? After stepping down as creative lead of his brand, Dries Van Noten has more time to source art pieces that make his shops sing. The brand’s new London outpost is in particularly fine voice.