We are trained at a young age to separate art from the core subjects of our studies. Students are unknowingly squeezed through a series of tightly fitted molds on their way from elementary school into adulthood, fully accepting an assumed fact that we spend less time teaching art because it is frivolous in the shadows of science and math. The truth of the matter is that these basic topics of art and science are more closely related than not, and the overlap is more relevant now than ever. The STEM subjects {Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) are no longer adequate to describe the needs of our society. Our contemporary world craves empathy and understanding in the face of an intensified onset of techno logical advances and a decline in direct interpersonal communication. Art and design can offer just that. The equation is simple:

Art and science are forms of inquiry. Artists and scien tists ask questions. Both engage research, and most often those who practice want to share the knowledge generated. However, this does not translate to art as being the same as science—they are distinct. And they are each equally important to our collective future. Societies that nourish diverse forms of inquiry gener ate new knowledge and shape how we act in the world.

Life in the city turns out to be greener than life in rural areas. Humans in the woods do more damage to the environment than humans in densely packed urban cores. The reason why hippies failed to see things this way is because it’s counterintuitive. But Buster Simpson did, and that’s why he sat on that jumble of concrete, and that’s also why that image in the timeworn newspaper is at the center of his retrospective.

Aesthetics is one of the most difficult things to formalize and teach a computer.

These days, the deepening global environmental crisis and recent research revealing the limits, and even dangers, of Western-style consumerism has turned the whole narrative of devel-opment completely upside down. One example of this is that more and more, politicians and economists in poor cities no longer see the car as a marker of progress and are instead considering allocating, or have already redirected, a sizable portion of their very limited urban resources to the lowly bicycle.

Data is infiltrating culture. Artists are using data as a subject for critique or as a new method of form generation, creating work that may help us come to terms with a changing society.

Authenticity is rooted in our disciplines, histories, and experiences. Understanding its meanings can help us grapple with change.

Consistent, supportive hubs for creativity are essential. The Rainier Oven Building's 20-year history shows us why.

As we move into the future, what will we take with us—as we grow and change, what ideas and experiences will guide our choices? What influences from our pasts will help us understand and create our next chapters? In the following pages, contributors from a variety of design fields and more share thoughts on the cultural influences that have impacted their thinking, highlighting large ideas worth considering as we shape our world. The stories they tell and concepts they present are wide-ranging and Insightful.

This issue’s feature explores, documents, and critiques some of the spaces found throughout the migration process. It asks what it means to be displaced from home, to persevere en route, and to arrive elsewhere. Contributors describe displacements as three American cities cater to infl uxes of young, wealthy white people. They conceptualize architectures of those who can no longer build in places of their own. They survey precarious journeys through squats, camps, and detention centers. And they identify welcoming and unwelcoming spaces for migrants upon arrival in Europe and North America.

Excerpt: "Since the 1980s, Burtynsky has been documenting human impacts on the natural landscape, with a particular interest in the transformations brought by industry; indirectly he has also been photographing some of the contributing culprits of climate change. “What makes climate change difficult is that it is not an instantaneous catastrophic event. It’s a slow-moving issue that, on a day-to-day basis, people don’t experience and don’t see."

This is a love story — a story about a city and re gion remaking itseif with the goal of being a place that its citizens will love, a story about a dialog between a city and the people who live there. A powerful story to learn from, it describes a city committed to creating the most livable place in the world for all its residents.

In this ARCADE feature, we explore what is lost in an era where efficiency has forcefully entangled itself in all aspects of our lives. We approach the topic broadly, having prompted our favorite thinkers and writers to consider where inefficiency exists (or existed) and what beauty arises from it. Knowing what we are to lose, we hope to discover some impulse to spend time among the thorns, extricating efficiency from the roots of our culture.

In the following pages, some longtime ARCADE writers and community members express their thoughts about the organization. They reflect on the ways thoughtful storytelling and nuanced dialogue enrich our lives, both nourishing and challenging us. They highlight the importance of community and connection, and they celebrate the role of print publications in an increasingly digital world. In some cases, we worked to quell their enthusiasm for ARCADE, but in the end we acquiesced. Please indulge us, just this once, as we celebrate 35 years of your ideas and work.

As a whole, does Seattle have a set of guiding moral beliefs—a collective ethos—that supports and enables equitable change? For this ARCADE feature, I asked members of two communities to address this issue on a personal level and share their thoughts in the following pages on what they’ve seen happen ing around them.

For this publication, titled Monumental, we are exploring the theme of monuments, memorials, and artifacts by conversing under the umbrella of urban regeneration, personal and civic relationship with public space, respite and reflection in an urban environment, and explicitly how urban generation/regeneration creates and destroys such monuments, memorials, and artifacts. Some of the writings focus on the experience of public parks and greenbelts, one discusses how the city implements public art as an act of memorialization after gentrification, and the too often nefarious nature of nostalgia – both the light and dark sides of memorialization and monuments. We have included works of composition as memorialization and monuments to the lived experience, and are featuring work from architectural critic Bruce Rips, the civic poet of Seattle Shin Yu Pai, cultural critic and philosopher Charles Mudede, architectural journalist Vernon Mays and many more.

We’ve embraced the changing of the guard, developed new outreach and engagement opportunities and increased the diversity of our dialogues. While retaining the thoughtful discussion that has been the hallmark of our organization for nearly forty years, we are looking forward to finding more ways to enrich the Dialogue on Design through digital, print and in-person connections. 37.2 was created in the spirit of experiencing between here and there.

With so many obituaries in our city, this first edition of Arcade's new quarterly magazine hopes to convey that there is still creative life and a strong community thriving in Seattle and that publications such as ours will continue to highlight those individuals and projects. In this way, Arcade will help maintain a vibrant architecture, design, and arts ecosystem in the best way we know how: through journalism and publication.

We’ve embraced the changing of the guard, developed new outreach and engagement opportunities and increased the diversity of our dialogues. While retaining the thoughtful discussion that has been the hallmark of our organization for nearly forty years, we are looking forward to finding more ways to enrich the Dialogue on Design through digital, print and in-person connections. 37.2 was created in the spirit of experiencing between here and there.

What is death, really? Scientifically, it’s a shift, similar to how elements change from one state (solid, liquid, or gas) to another, an idea called phase transition. With this inspiration, we conceived our new title: PHASE SHIFT. From the start, our thinking has been framed by ideas of change, considering death as a threshold or catalyst for transformation, rather than an endpoint.

This issue’s theme of “Exception” combines singularity and ambiguity in its layers of phonetic and conceptual interpretations. Exceptions to the rule; exceptional things off the beaten path; that which has been left to the side – or looking sideways to find something new.

Refraction examines how the events of 2020 and 2021 have forged new lenses and perspectives by which we understand our place in the world, and represents where ARCADE as an organization is impacting and inspiring positive change in our architecture, design, and arts communities.