In the days following the onslaught of the COVID-19 global pandemic, it became clear that this humanitarian health crisis would be accompanied by a financial crisis. In response to these inevitabilities, the industries that make up the consumer design sector – interior design, decor, architecture, fashion and so on – quickly turned their attention to aestheticizing our new, increasingly private and isolationist realities, launching advertising campaigns and editorials to address these new realities. Work-from-home edits, new ‘home office’ collections, wardrobes for video conferencing and ‘digital gallery hopping’ campaigns all began encouraging consumers to accessorize their domestic spaces as a bulwark against the threats marking urban environments and their contaminated bodies; bodies that, through the notion of ‘contamination’, drag along a set of inescapable racial and class-based assumptions. Echoing the ways in which interior design, architecture and media enabled America’s ‘white flight’ and suburbanization in the 1950s, luxury retailers are again inviting privileged populations to retreat and design their homes as comfortable bunkers, full of the accessories of art, travel and public life, without the risk of actual encounter. In this article, I argue that these luxury industries are complicit in renewing a post-pandemic racialization of urban space. In the contemporary moment, the luxury design industry’s entreaties to (re)design our homes to accommodate a newly public life led in private amounts to a symbolic suburbanization founded in the fear of ‘contaminated’ racialized bodies.

The shift in focus in UK higher education since Thatcherism from the production of knowledge for civic betterment to the production and consumption of knowledge by the university for revenue generation can be read through the social rearrangement of space in the university town or city. A key spatial reconfiguration emerging from the shift in economic conditions is the collapse of the modern university as a singular, ideological construct. Like ‘the city’ before it, the modern university has, at its interior, been reformed into a newly defined, fragmented public–private social space, and, at its exterior, into a devourer of the space of the local community. This article showcases excerpts from a film made by the authors entitled The Death and Life of UK Universities – a title inspired by Jane Jacobs’s critique of great American cities. Our film is a cinematic database survey of the changing space of all British universities which considers this systematic spatial reprogramming of space within the city. The two-year research project is an audio-visual critique of the way in which neoliberalism, corporatization and commercial interests have co-opted the space of the British university. Referencing the films of Charlie Chaplin and Gordon Matta-Clark and the writings of Henri Lefebvre, the film focuses on university cities, critically observing the rise of university marketing material and the consumption of the city and of local community life for university student accommodation. We ask: How are UK universities being spatially reconfigured and what are the consequences?

In the ascending age of automation factories, storage facilities, and server farms, intelligent buildings are becoming less dependent on human maintenance. These new and updated architectural forms do not comply with traditional typologies. From the Vitruvian Man to Modulor, our bodies were the measure of most constructions. Yet automation renders new constructions incompatible with patterns of human habitation. This article focuses on the iconography of buildings designed to operate with little to none human interaction, providing an insight into how such settings influenced recent (last decade) science-fiction films like Blade Runner 2049 (dir. Denis Villeneuve, 2017), Captive State (dir. Rupert Wyatt, 2019), I Am Mother (dir. Grant Sputore, 2019), or Transcendence (dir. Wally Pfister, 2014). In each of them, artificial intelligence is an intrinsic composite of the environment, terraforming a post-anthropocentric reality of data centres, automated warehouses and drosscapes.

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The introduction of time-based media into the design stage opened up a new understanding of architectural and represented space as a dematerialized, dynamic, and user-dependent concept. Unbuildable architectural projects always relied on specific techniques and media. Their radical nature usually channelled innovative artistic currents and visualization tools, like collage and pop art aesthetics in the works of Archigram. Cinema is yet another ground for such deliberations. With Instant City (Archigram’s Peter Cook and Ron Herron) and The Zero Theorem (Terry Gilliam) the problem of dematerialization is being channelled by architectural/spatial proposals that involve a range of literary tropes, cultural texts, and filmic intertexts, in order to create a rich embroidery of references that forward a new look upon architectural production as a practice of creating protocols for dynamic and all the more elusive imagery. This article’s central objective lies in the task of reframing a discussion on iconicity, media facades, and mutative building skins, so as to include modes of cinematic portrayal that are not just contents of architectural “messages”, but also their “media”.