6. The Hive, NTU
A riddle brought to life
'A building with 56 cornerless classrooms' sounds like it could be describing an Escher artwork. In fact, it's a real structure – part of the Nanyang Technological University officially named "The Hive" (or – yawn – "Learning Hub South"), but colloquially referred to as "the dim sum basket building".
And it does, indeed, look like a stack of dim sum baskets. Or as one architectural magazine put it in a not-entirely-complimentary review shortly after its opening: "like a phalanx of Bibendum Michelin Men standing to attention". (The same reviewer also observed that "effectively isolated on a traffic island, it gave off something of a forlorn car-park aesthetic". Rude! There's a lot more greenery and life in the building these days, which doesn't entirely kill the 'car-park' vibe, but does at least make it feel less 'forlorn'.)
The Hive's unorthodox design reflects the non-traditional "flipped classroom" teaching method it facilitates. There are no teachers in these classrooms (and no staff facilities in the building, at all). Lessons are delivered online, and students gather in the curved 'pod'-shaped spaces to discuss the content and work through questions and projects together.
Singapore's notoriously hot and humid climate is also catered for: the towers are arranged around a central atrium void, with gaps between each column, allowing for natural breezes to pass through the building and reducing the need for air conditioning.
7. Joo Chiat houses
History holds tight
Before Independence, before the shiny (and furry) high-rises and concert halls and concrete jungle full of financiers sprouted up, Singapore was a place of coconut and cotton plantations. Commercial agriculture was its main economic activity in the 19th century – pepper, nutmeg, pineapple and rubber were all harvested in the fields around settlements which pushed outward from the city centre.
By the 1920s, a large portion of land in one of these areas was owned by a local businessman, Mr Chew Joo Chiat. He was a civic-minded man. He built roads, bequeathing them to the city, and created subdivisions on which rows of two-storey terrace houses were built. The shophouses were a unique blend of Art Deco style with elaborate Peranakan⁴ detailing – and thanks to heritage efforts in the 2000s, many of them are still standing in original form.
You will find a colourful strip of these time capsules along Joo Chiat Road, which was named one of the 'world's coolest' streets by Time Out magazine in 2025. On the inside, you may find a museum of Peranakan artefacts, or an adapted sleek modern residence – but from the outside, the whole row retains a pastel-painted, floral-tiled, white-festooned glory.
These days, the heritage precinct is a food destination with a number of top restaurants and cafes offering everything from modern fine dining to traditional sweet treats and authentic street-hawker style laksas. (The spot has had a bit of a turnaround since the mid-2000s, when it was better known as an "'unofficial red light district" thanks to the number of karaoke bars, pubs and massage parlours that had sprung up during an economic downturn.)
¹ More on all things Peranakan in our article "Tastes like Peranakan".
² Le Corbusier, Le Corbusier, LE CORBUSIER! You will see and hear this man’s name mentioned anywhere modernist architecture is being discussed. (It’s not even his real name. His real name is Charles-Édouard Jeanneret.) Look, there’s too much to say about him in a footnote. The relevant point here is that he was very influential in the 20th century and had very strong feelings about how urban high rises should be designed and Singapore’s People’s Park Complex is one of the few buildings that was actually built in close alignment with his principles. Look up Unité d’habitation and go down the rabbit hole if you’d like to learn more.
³ Wikipedia’s claim that locals complained the initial design looked like “two copulating aardvarks” is amusing but, alas, unsourced. Though the original project director has confirmed there was public criticism that “there was too much glass and that the design was too Western”, which led to the addition of the cladding and sunshades.
⁴ Again, more on Peranakan culture and these specific buildings in our article "Tastes like Peranakan".