The Future of Living: 7 Condo Designs That Reshape the World

Striving to move beyond mere function, a handful of architectural minds have reimagined what residential living can look like. These condo designs don’t just occupy space. They challenge it. Twist it. Elevate it.

Each one stands as a sculptural response to the future — part shelter, part statement.

Forma Condos by Frank Gehry

Forma Condos — Toronto, Canada

Frank Gehry’s vision for Toronto is unlike anything the city has ever seen. Rising in twin towers of fractured steel and shifting planes, Forma Condos creates a visual language all its own: abstract, reflective, kinetic.

The façades catch and scatter light, distorting the skyline with their angular composition. The structure feels alive — twisting subtly as it ascends, reshaping itself with every vantage point. Gehry’s asymmetrical genius moves beyond the exterior. Inside, residents experience immersive design through the Creator Club: an amenity space crafted not just for leisure, but for inspiration.

To call this a return to Toronto is accurate.

But what Gehry brings is something entirely new.

The Interlace

The Interlace — Singapore

Take The Interlace in Singapore, for example: a bold inversion of everything the modern high-rise once stood for. Rather than rising in isolated stacks, it sprawls horizontally, intersecting and layering like a vast architectural tapestry.

Thirty-one blocks, eight courtyards, and a geometry that defies repetition — the building’s layout allows airflow, daylight, and social energy to circulate freely. But structure alone doesn’t explain its power. The Interlace feels woven, intentional, and utterly unbound. It doesn't just reject the vertical. It reinvents space itself.

It’s not just livable.

It’s living.

Ardmore Residence

Ardmore Residence — Singapore

Graceful from every angle, Ardmore Residence redefines what vertical design can be. The tower appears to twist gently, each floor turning on a central spine. The result is soft, lyrical — a spiral in slow motion.

Clad in smooth white panels, the structure gives the illusion of movement, even while standing still. Balconies curl outward, catching light like the edge of a petal. Inside, quiet elegance reigns: unobstructed views, ventilated interiors, and surfaces that flow without disruption.

It doesn’t dominate the skyline.

It dances with it. 

The Met

The Met — Bangkok, Thailand

The Met is a tower that breathes.

Located in Bangkok’s humid climate, its very shape is designed to invite wind, filter sun, and cool interiors without mechanical force. Cross-ventilation, perforated bridges, and sky gardens make up its vocabulary. Here, WOHA has turned passive design into performance.

But this is no utilitarian grid. The forms are elegant. Vertical gaps frame sky. Shadows move across its face like time-lapse. The building doesn't stand against the climate.

It works with it — fully, intuitively. 

The Pano

The Pano — Bangkok, Thailand

The Pano stands by the river like a sculpture waiting to be noticed. Its form is lean and deliberate: two wings that rise together, curving softly toward the Chao Phraya.

Daylight becomes part of the architecture — diffused, fractured, reflected across glass and steel. The building’s posture is restrained, but never static. It suggests motion, yet holds still. This is architecture that listens before it speaks.

The structure doesn’t shout.

It hums. 

62M Condominium

62M — Winnipeg, Canada

From a distance, it floats.

62M hovers above Winnipeg’s Red River on a ring of slender concrete columns, its circular shape suspended like a landed spacecraft. Designed by 5468796 Architecture, the building is made of prefabricated units — each one angled, each one aligned with precision.

But the result is more than technical. At night, the ring glows. From above, it resembles a disc of light hovering in dialogue with the earth below. The effect is bold, economical, and mesmerizing.

It looks like it arrived from the future.

And maybe it did. 

Primavera Residences

Primavera Residences — Cagayan de Oro, Philippines

Primavera doesn’t borrow from nature. It embodies it.

Inspired by termite mounds and traditional Filipino dwellings, the building cools itself through natural ventilation, shaded façades, and rooftop solar integration. Its form is both protective and open — designed not only to conserve energy, but to live with the climate it inhabits.

Here, sustainability is not an addition. It is the architecture itself. The building breathes, shields, adapts. It is practical, yes — but also poetic.

In a world of rising temperatures and rising towers, Primavera offers something rare.

A future that feels possible.

What Comes Next

One can only imagine what the skyline might resemble a generation from now. Will our cities hover like 62M? Will new towers bend and bloom like Ardmore? Or will future architects break symmetry altogether — as Gehry has done — to form cities that move, twist, and evolve with the people inside them?

We can’t be certain. But we can be sure of this:

By the time the world embraces these concepts, the pioneers will already be sketching something new. Something stranger. Something greater.

And they’ll be doing it on paper that hasn’t been invented yet.

 

 

 

Related Articles:

(0) comments

We welcome your comments

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.