From a CityLab online article:
From the outside, London’s row houses have an eclectic variety of ornament, and they range in scale from palatial to boxy. But inside, they are pretty much all configured the same way. That’s because from the late 17th century up until the First World War, most residential buildings here cleaved very close to a model found across English cities: the terraced house, known in its most condensed, emblematic form as the “two-up, two-down.”

For a city that’s long been the repository of vast commercial, imperial, and industrial wealth, this might seem a very modest template. However, it is one that can be easily scaled up, points out Edward Denison, associate professor at the Bartlett School of Architecture and author of The Life of the British Home: An Architectural History.
“What’s extraordinary, in London in particular, is that you can find very grand houses in places such as Carlton House Terrace, with vast rooms and very high ceilings, that are still essentially two-up, two-downs with extra floors added,” says Denison. “Then you go to working-class terraced housing in places like Greenwich, and find a very different scale and quality of fittings, but essentially the same configuration.
Robotic construction company Apis Cor has used its technology to build the world’s largest 3D-printed building, a two-storey administrative office in Dubai.
This volume presents a large variety of sophisticated solutions for mini houses in terms of architectural style, construction method and interior design. Whether portable or prefabricated, newly built or reused, rural or urban, they all meet the highest technological and sustainable standards to literally reduce their owners’ ecological footprint.
Situated on a sweeping two-acre lot, this 452-square-foot abode is just right for two.
…the Yō no Ie re-imagines a life in suburban-rural areas, rather than urban-suburban. This reflects quiet yet significant social changes – or rather, shifts in life priorities of people and how they define happiness. In the 20th century, when society was excited about economic growth, everyone dreamed of living in cities, working at big companies by navigating a world of fierce competition, either spending an eye-popping amount of money on a small urban condo that quickly became a norm, or traveling hours to commute from a more affordable home in rapidly sprawling suburbs.


Our idea was not to make this house feel like a building, but to free it from form. We wanted it to be just a borderless box that emerges out of nowhere in the sky, as if the thickness of the wall and roof were non-existent, but still able to make holes in the ceiling to install curtains, air conditioners, and embed lights. Our intention was to give an illusion to onlookers that the entire ceiling was in the same straight line even though we featured a drop ceiling and a slope that was intentionally used to make the wall and ceiling look thin.
“The jury was unanimous in celebrating this inventive solution to reconfiguring a dilapidated Japanese colonial house.