In 1986, The Egyptian government submitted an application to UNESCO for help in building a large library in Alexandria that would have a clear relationship with the famous library of Antiquity, while also meeting contemporary needs of study and research in the Mediterranean region. Two years later, with the support of the International Union of Architects, UNESCO launched an architectural competition, which was won by the then new Norwegian firm Snøhetta.
The architects chose a simple, almost primordial structure: a giant circle leaning towards the sea and partially submerged in a stretch of water – an architectural metaphor for the Egyptian sun. The slanting roof, with its glass panels, provides the interior levels, arranged in a “waterfall-style”, with a beautiful view over the sea as well as a significant source of natural light. The entire building is wrapped in a wall of Aswan granite engraved with symbols and lettering from different alphabets of the world. The surrounding water, which naturally absorbs dust and cools the adjacent area, the vegetation and the more unusual form of the building itself all serve to insulate it from the sounds of the city, creating a public space that is peaceful and comfortable, open to all those with an inclination towards knowledge.

In a country like Romania, where people were denied their freedom of choice for decades, the mirage and frenzy of the act of shopping have found a much more aggressive way of manifestation. Supermarkets, hypermarkets and malls have easily found their place in cities big and small, where they are constantly assaulted by the crowds, willing to see, to buy and to be seen. In Bucharest, in the absence of a coherent urban vision, they have settled within the urban tissue based solely on economic criteria and thus generating, during certain hours and on weekends, critical points, "strangled" by traffic jams. Also, under the pressure of achieving more profit, their architecture was superficially conceived, becoming part of an apparently endless line of standard consumerist spaces.
Radu Mihailescu's project for the Iulius Mall in Timisoara was called by Arpad Zachi an "anti-mall". In fact, it could be thought of as a "super-mall", since it expresses, down to the smallest detail, the pseudo-public and urban quality of such a space, managing, at the same time, to contain accents of domestic comfort. The denial of "the black box" of constructing malls and the semi-labyrinth trajectories are qualities not often found in commercial architecture, as promoted by the American consumerist movement.

The essential feature that characterises Snøhetta’s architecture is their concern with integrating a design into its surroundings, of structuring a dialogue between the urban and the natural, without one cancelling out the other while clearly establishing an overlap between them and halting the fusion of formal elements. By intersecting all elements, they create contrasts and thus highlight the contribution of each individual element within the whole, an ensemble of natural and built elements, defining a series of parallel discourses. The Norwegian firm is in fact defined through contrasts, juxtapositions and dichotomies, the play of proximities and distances, the ensemble vs. detail.
Their use of natural materials can be viewed in connection with Nordic concepts of construction or simply as an aesthetic or functional preference. Wood and stone help to create unitary images of built architecture in the natural landscape. Beyond this choice, however, the processing and definition of structures in fact reflects a new way of looking at context.

Born on January 15th, 1955 in Sannicolaul Mare, in the district of Timis, the architect graduated from the Fine Arts School and then from the Architecture Institute "Ion Mincu" in Bucharest. Radu Mihailescu talked to us about the role of experimenting in architecture, about quality and about his relationship with the city.
"I don't believe I work differently from other architects. I try to understand the theme and the site. It's like entering a labyrinth. You might be lucky. Most of the times, this is not the case. I always come back and that is not something my collaborators appreciate. If you don't keep track constantly with the work on the site, I don't think there are any chances for the work to be completed properly."