Lachlan Turczan's practice sits in the space between physics, optics, and environmental art, as he works with lasers, water, mist, and custom-built lenses to produce sculptures made entirely from light.
ROOM FOR DREAMS becomes a living manifesto for utopian optimism, creative courage, and the power of imagination through a multilayered approach where large scale installations, cinematic storytelling, live conversations, and ritual-driven encounters converge.
Viewpoints are structures designed for observing the landscape from elevated positions. They act as devices that organize the gaze and establish a direct relationship between the body and the territory.
BREMEN is designed to change the way people interact with music by allowing everyday objects to become actual instruments, thus removing traditional barriers to music-making.
Galen Buckwalter, a 69-year-old research psychologist and quadriplegic, participated in a brain implant study to contribute to science that aids those with paralysis. The six chips in his brain decode movement intention, allowing him to operate a computer and feel sensations in his fingers again.
The original intent of pilotis was to create a sense of lightness that would allow circulation and light to flow beneath a structure, but contemporary requirements render thin columns insufficient for large-scale civic projects.
For most of human history, night arrived as a planetary certainty. Darkness spread across landscapes, and the sky revealed thousands of stars. Today, that sky is disappearing. Artificial light spills upward from cities, scattering through the atmosphere and turning night into a permanent haze. Research mapping global sky brightness shows that more than 80 percent of humanity now lives under light-polluted skies, and the Milky Way has vanished from view for over a third of the world's population.
The contemporary technology museum has emerged as a performative participant in the systems it seeks to document. The architecture of these institutions has become increasingly fluid and bold, often mirroring the velocity and complexity of the systems it houses. They operate as mediators between the human, the ecological, and the technological realms, transforming from encyclopedic warehouses into active educational engines.
Inside Climate Pledge Arena, a large-scale media installation titled Turn the Tide transforms two interior walls into an architectural interface combining environmental imagery, and . Designed by Digital Kitchen within the arena by , the installation spans nearly 400 feet across the building's east and west walls. The intervention is integrated into the spatial environment of the arena, which is recognized as the world's first net-zero carbon certified arena.
The electronic musical composition draws on field recordings of local wildlife and environmental phenomena, sourced from archival materials along with new recordings made specifically for the installation. By transporting the sounds of the lake's ecosystem into an urban park setting, Eliasson foregrounds the fragile interdependence between human and more-than-human life, rendering audible what is increasingly at risk of vanishing.
Perforated metal has long been valued for its strength, versatility, and clean visual appeal. Created by punching patterns of holes into metal sheets, it offers a practical balance between airflow, light control, and structural support. Across industries such as architecture, construction, mining, and interior design, perforated metal has become a go-to material for projects that require both function and style.
By utilizing this dual-entry condition, the design reorganizes the vertical circulation, placing the primary entrance on the upper level and redefining the ritual of returning home while transforming storage into an architectural façade.
The design by 1Y Architects approaches this silence as material rather than absence. Instead of clearing the debris scattered across the site, the team gathered bricks, concrete fragments, and broken tiles from former factory buildings. These remnants form the structural fabric of the sound museum itself.
A slender white form hovers above the fields on minimal supports, as if a thin wing had just been lifted by the wind. "Floating" describes both a structural condition - a thin roof suspended above the ground - and a quality of time in this place, where mist drifts, light shifts, and one pauses briefly on the mountain, as in a fleeting moment of respite.
The Eski.Sub draws inspiration from the visual language of Brutalist architecture and the cultural atmosphere of UK grime music scene. The project examines the relationship between design, urban context, and emotional listening experiences, positioning the loudspeaker as both an audio device and a spatial object.
For many years, bamboo has been mostly known as the favourite food of giant pandas, but a group of engineers say it's time we took it seriously as a building material, too. This week the Institution of Structural Engineers called for architects to be bamboo-ready as they published a manual for designing permanent buildings made of the material, in an effort to encourage low-carbon construction and position bamboo as a proper alternative to steel and concrete.
Mumbai is a city of simultaneities. Its urban fabric is dense and restless a patchwork continually fractured by moments of porosity. Narrow alleys suddenly unfold into courtyards, and fleeting intimacies emerge between strangers in crowded trains. Rhythms of chaos and solitude overlap seamlessly to create an everyday theatre of resilience.
But at the end of this month, there's a brand new festival arriving to inject some colour into the financial district. 'Vibrance' will light up Roman ruins, medieval churches and secret gardens across the Square Mile on Thursday January 29 and Friday January 30 from 5.30pm until 8.30pm. Created by Guildhall Production Studio, it brings together more than a dozen artworks and live performances by emerging artists from Guildhall School of Music & Drama.
Beautiful And Detailed Paintings In Resin By Feif Dong The Illustrator Has Created a Dreamy World that She Travels Through with Her Boyfriend Elspeth McLean Creates Beautiful Hand-Painted Stones This Artist Creates Beautifully Bizarre Backpacks That Look Like Octopus, Spiders, And Beetles Amazing Surreal And Tribal Backpacks By Konstantin Kofta Saddened By The Empty Streets Of Budapest During Lockdown, This Artist Filled The City With People From Classical Paintings UK Artist Unveils COVID-19 Glass Sculpture, One Million Times The Size Of The Virus
Topped with a roof shaped like a crabshell, Le Corbusier's Chapelle Notre-Dame-du-Haut is a sanctuary amid the French mountainside. The 1955 construction rests atop a hill in Ronchamp, standing unobstructed by the otherwise forested inclines. As the sun rises and falls, light filters in through the mélange of rectangular windows tinted to cast streams of color around the space. The stained glass apertures of Le Corbusier's modernist chapel are a clear reference point for Luftwerk's "Open Frame."
"The idea is that intention is not the whole story," says Selene Yap, a co-curator of the Biennale. "Systems can generate a certain kind of afterlife, and there are side effects." While the waterfall impresses, it also has consequences, she adds. The work uncovers how Singapore imports hydropower through transnational infrastructure, including the Vajiralongkorn Dam, whose construction has displaced Thailand's indigenous Karen hill tribe, forcing many to live in floating homes on the reservoir.
Leisure spaces are often where different generations cross paths. Without formal programs or assigned roles, they allow people to move, pause, and remain together, each engaging space in their own way. In a built environment increasingly shaped by specialization and separation, these shared spatial grounds have become less common, giving leisure-oriented architecture a renewed relevance. Discussions around public space have repeatedly pointed to the value of openness and flexibility in supporting collective life.
Climbing an observation tower involves a lot of steel and concrete just to stand a few dozen meters higher and take in a view. The ritual is familiar, the ascent, the vertigo, the panorama, but the infrastructure demands are massive for what amounts to a few minutes of elevated looking. Michael Jantzen's Telepresence Observation Pavilion asks whether we always need to build big vertical structures to get that feeling, especially when most distant experiences already come through screens and networks.