A Cultural Facility Turns Gwangyang’s Steel Heritage Into a Sunlit Cultural Landscape

Park1538 Gwangyang turns the industrial identity of Gwangyang into a public cultural experience. Located within the former greenhouse site of POSCO’s Gwangyang Steelworks, the project sits in a powerful contrast, surrounded by heavy industry while still connected to the Seomjin River and Baegunsan Mountain. Instead of separating itself from this context, the architecture embraces it. The memory of steel production is reshaped into a place where visitors can gather, learn, move through layered spaces, and experience the material history of the city.

The design takes inspiration from the name of the city, Gwangyang, which means sunlight. This idea becomes visible through sweeping, curved steel surfaces that reflect and refract light throughout the day. As daylight moves across the building, the structure appears to shift in mood and presence. It does not feel fixed or static; it feels responsive to its surroundings. The curves soften the usual image of steel as rigid and heavy, revealing the material’s ability to become expressive, flexible, and almost fluid.

Designer: Unsangdong Architects and Posco A&C

This connection to steel is central to the project because Gwangyang is a city shaped by steel production. Park1538 transforms that industrial background into cultural value by making steel the language of the architecture itself. Through the exhibition hall, education center, plaza, and circulation spaces, visitors encounter steel as history, structure, surface, and experience. The project challenges the common idea that steel is only cold, strong, and industrial. Here, it becomes spatial, sculptural, and human.

A major part of this expression comes through the vertically oriented steel ribs. These ribs are more than facade elements. They carry structural loads, shape the exterior, guide movement, and define interior space. In many ways, they behave like the bones of the building. Each rib has a specific curvature and inclination, creating a continuous rhythm across the architecture. This rib system supports long spans and flexible layouts, allowing the exhibition spaces to remain open, adaptable, and immersive.

Because the ribs perform so many roles at once, the design required a highly coordinated process. A minor change in the position or size of an interior room could affect the reference module, the linear finishing of the ribs, and the steel truss structure. This is where parametric design became essential. Through precise 3D modeling and verification simulations, the design team could coordinate the curvature, spacing, inclination, and structural performance of each rib. Parametric coordination allowed the project to maintain its dramatic sculptural form while still achieving rational construction, facade logic, and structural stability.

The same structural logic shapes how visitors move through the building. Circulation unfolds through ramps, vertical transitions, and a grand stair that becomes part of the spatial experience rather than a separate functional element. As people move through the project, framed views of the city, industrial landscape, river, and mountains are gradually revealed. The journey feels layered, encouraging visitors to understand the site through movement, light, and changing perspective.

The cantilevered exhibition hall extends this experience outward by creating a sheltered plaza beneath it. This open space turns the building into a civic platform, giving the public a place to pause, gather, and enter the cultural program. The cantilever also demonstrates the strength and possibility of steel, using structure to create generosity at the ground level. What could have been a closed industrial site becomes open, accessible, and connected to community life.

The landscape continues this transformation. The flat industrial ground is reshaped into planted mounds, while former machinery is embedded as sculptural artifacts. These remnants of production are not treated as leftover objects, but as part of the site’s memory. They allow visitors to recognize the industrial past while experiencing the space as active, green, and public.

Park1538 includes an exhibition hall with one basement level and four above-ground floors, along with an education center with one basement level and three above-ground floors. Its structure combines steel frame and reinforced concrete construction, balancing expressive architectural form with practical performance. Across its structure, circulation, facade, and landscape, the project creates a clear relationship between material, place, and public experience. Through sunlight, curved steel, parametric precision, and layered movement, Park1538 gives Gwangyang’s industrial heritage a more open, human, and cultural meaning.

The post A Cultural Facility Turns Gwangyang’s Steel Heritage Into a Sunlit Cultural Landscape first appeared on Yanko Design.

FIG Living’s Dented Chrome Vases Make Imperfection the Feature

Most vases are designed around the flowers they hold. Their job is simple: contain water, support a few stems, and quietly disappear into the background once the arrangement is complete. FIG Living’s new Chrome Dented Vases take a different approach. With mirror-polished stainless steel surfaces and deliberately distorted forms, they are designed to have just as much presence with flowers as they do without them.

The most noticeable detail is, naturally, the dents. Instead of treating the folds and depressions as flaws, the design makes them the defining feature of each vase. The polished steel bends around these uneven surfaces and distorts whatever happens to be reflected in it. Light, color, movement, and surrounding objects all become part of the composition. Place one near a window, and it responds to changing daylight. Move it onto a console or coffee table, and the room itself begins to appear across its surface in abstract fragments.

Designer: Fig Living

That reflective quality makes chrome especially interesting within an interior. Against warmer materials like wood, linen, or natural stone, the polished surface creates contrast without introducing another color. Alongside glass, metal, or minimal furniture, it takes on a sharper architectural character. It is a relatively small object, but it can make a familiar corner feel much more intentional. Often, that subtle shift is all it takes for a room to feel more thoughtfully curated.

Flowers add another layer to the piece rather than becoming its only reason for being there. Soft blooms against reflective steel create an immediate contrast between organic and industrial materials. Long branches or dried stems emphasize the sculptural proportions, while pampas grass gives the vase a softer character. A minimal arrangement of one or two stems keeps the silhouette visible. Even when left completely empty, the folds and reflections give the pair enough visual interest to work as standalone decorative objects.

The visual experimentation does not come at the expense of practicality. Both vases are crafted from high-grade mirror-polished stainless steel, making them more resilient than typical ceramic or glass alternatives. The material is rust-resistant, while an anti-corrosive interior coating adds protection from moisture. This allows the pieces to hold fresh flowers and water, rather than being limited to dried arrangements. Maintenance is also straightforward. A soft microfiber cloth is enough to restore the reflective finish.

That balance between durability and visual presence is important because these pieces are meant to live in a home, not remain untouched on display. FIG Living’s broader approach to lighting and home décor has always centered on combining function with timeless aesthetics. The Chrome Dented Vases fit naturally within that philosophy. Their character comes from material, proportion, and form rather than decorative excess.

There is also something refreshing about making imperfection the focal point of such a polished object. Chrome is often associated with precision, smoothness, and immaculate manufacturing. Denting that surface interrupts some of that perfection. It makes the material feel less clinical and gives each form more personality. The irregular folds also create more opportunities for light and reflections to move across the surface.

The result is a pair of vases that adapts easily to different interiors. They are clean enough for a minimalist home, polished enough for a more luxurious setting, and irregular enough to sit comfortably among eclectic furniture and collected objects. Their presence is noticeable without feeling overwhelming. Because much of their appearance comes from reflecting the space around them, they also have an unusual ability to feel connected to their surroundings.

FIG Living’s Chrome Dented Vases ultimately show how much impact a small decorative object can have. Elevating an interior does not always require dramatic furniture or a complete redesign. Sometimes an unexpected silhouette, a reflective surface, or an object that changes the way light moves through a room is enough. These vases do exactly that, turning a familiar household object into something sculptural, functional, and quietly expressive.

The post FIG Living’s Dented Chrome Vases Make Imperfection the Feature first appeared on Yanko Design.

The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined

ZHA has collaborated with Spanish design brand Nagami to create the Echo Chair, a 3D-printed seat made from recycled plastic waste. Formerly known as Zaha Hadid Architects, the studio developed the chair through parametric design and large-scale additive manufacturing. Its form is fluid and sculptural, with an arched backrest that extends towards the floor and a seat that curves upwards at the sides.

The two parts look separate at first, but they are printed as one continuous piece. Both surfaces grow from the same structural edge and share the same underlying geometry. One becomes the seat, while the other rises to form the backrest and support.

Designer: ZHA and Nagami

This continuous construction gives the chair a clear sense of logic. The shape is doing several jobs at once: supporting the body, holding the structure together, and defining the overall visual character.

The Echo Chair was developed through an iterative research process at ZHA Lab and manufactured by Nagami, a brand known for its work in large-format 3D printing. The studios used recycled PETG sourced from industrial waste, including single-use medical plastics.

As the chair is printed layer by layer, the process leaves a ribbed texture across its surface. Those lines have been kept visible rather than hidden or polished away. That decision gives the chair much of its character. The texture follows the curves closely and makes the manufacturing process easy to read. It also gives the recycled plastic a more tactile, less generic appearance.

There is something useful in that honesty. The material is not being forced to look like timber, stone or metal. It keeps the visual qualities created by the printing process and uses them as part of the design. The surface does still reference natural materials in a subtle way. Its layered finish recalls mineral formations and carved stone, which helps the chair feel less industrial when placed in an interior.

ZHA and Nagami developed four colourways for the chair: white, black, a white-to-translucent gradient and a caramel tone made using a bio-based cork composite. The colour choices help shift the mood of the design. White makes the form feel lighter and more architectural, while black gives it a stronger, more graphic presence. The translucent version draws attention to the printing layers, and the caramel finish adds warmth to what could otherwise feel like a very technical object.

The caramel version is especially successful because it softens the synthetic quality of the plastic. It feels easier to imagine in a home, hotel lobby or lounge space, rather than only in a gallery or design exhibition. According to ZHA project design director Sebastian Andia, the goal was to turn an abundant and overlooked material into something people would genuinely want to live with. That idea matters because recycled material alone is rarely enough to make a product successful. People still need to like the object, find it comfortable and see a place for it in their environment.

The Echo Chair handles this well. Its sustainable story supports the design, rather than becoming the whole design. The seat’s raised sides create a more enclosed sitting position, while the curved backrest gives the chair a supportive and almost cocooned feel. The shape is expressive, but it still looks usable. Its scale and neutral colour options also make it easier to place than the form might suggest. It has enough presence to work as a statement piece, yet it does not depend on bright colour or decoration to stand out.

The 3D-printing process allows the chair to be produced without visible joints or separate components. This gives it a seamless appearance and keeps the connection between the digital model and final object very direct.

That connection is one of the strongest parts of the project. The manufacturing process does not sit behind the design. It shapes the design. The ribs, curves and continuous structure all come from the same production method. Each part of the chair feels related because it has been developed through the same system.

The Echo Chair continues ZHA and Nagami’s existing collaboration. Nagami launched its first collection of 3D-printed chairs in 2018, which included two designs by the architecture studio. Their latest project shows how much more refined large-scale 3D printing has become. The chair feels less like a technical experiment and more like a finished product with a clear place in contemporary interiors.

The Echo Chair is currently on display as part of London Creates at The Truman Brewery. What makes the chair interesting is the way it brings together material, form and manufacturing without overcomplicating the idea. Recycled plastic is treated as a starting point for the design, rather than something that needs to be disguised.

The post The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined first appeared on Yanko Design.

The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined

ZHA has collaborated with Spanish design brand Nagami to create the Echo Chair, a 3D-printed seat made from recycled plastic waste. Formerly known as Zaha Hadid Architects, the studio developed the chair through parametric design and large-scale additive manufacturing. Its form is fluid and sculptural, with an arched backrest that extends towards the floor and a seat that curves upwards at the sides.

The two parts look separate at first, but they are printed as one continuous piece. Both surfaces grow from the same structural edge and share the same underlying geometry. One becomes the seat, while the other rises to form the backrest and support.

Designer: ZHA and Nagami

This continuous construction gives the chair a clear sense of logic. The shape is doing several jobs at once: supporting the body, holding the structure together, and defining the overall visual character.

The Echo Chair was developed through an iterative research process at ZHA Lab and manufactured by Nagami, a brand known for its work in large-format 3D printing. The studios used recycled PETG sourced from industrial waste, including single-use medical plastics.

As the chair is printed layer by layer, the process leaves a ribbed texture across its surface. Those lines have been kept visible rather than hidden or polished away. That decision gives the chair much of its character. The texture follows the curves closely and makes the manufacturing process easy to read. It also gives the recycled plastic a more tactile, less generic appearance.

There is something useful in that honesty. The material is not being forced to look like timber, stone or metal. It keeps the visual qualities created by the printing process and uses them as part of the design. The surface does still reference natural materials in a subtle way. Its layered finish recalls mineral formations and carved stone, which helps the chair feel less industrial when placed in an interior.

ZHA and Nagami developed four colourways for the chair: white, black, a white-to-translucent gradient and a caramel tone made using a bio-based cork composite. The colour choices help shift the mood of the design. White makes the form feel lighter and more architectural, while black gives it a stronger, more graphic presence. The translucent version draws attention to the printing layers, and the caramel finish adds warmth to what could otherwise feel like a very technical object.

The caramel version is especially successful because it softens the synthetic quality of the plastic. It feels easier to imagine in a home, hotel lobby or lounge space, rather than only in a gallery or design exhibition. According to ZHA project design director Sebastian Andia, the goal was to turn an abundant and overlooked material into something people would genuinely want to live with. That idea matters because recycled material alone is rarely enough to make a product successful. People still need to like the object, find it comfortable and see a place for it in their environment.

The Echo Chair handles this well. Its sustainable story supports the design, rather than becoming the whole design. The seat’s raised sides create a more enclosed sitting position, while the curved backrest gives the chair a supportive and almost cocooned feel. The shape is expressive, but it still looks usable. Its scale and neutral colour options also make it easier to place than the form might suggest. It has enough presence to work as a statement piece, yet it does not depend on bright colour or decoration to stand out.

The 3D-printing process allows the chair to be produced without visible joints or separate components. This gives it a seamless appearance and keeps the connection between the digital model and final object very direct.

That connection is one of the strongest parts of the project. The manufacturing process does not sit behind the design. It shapes the design. The ribs, curves and continuous structure all come from the same production method. Each part of the chair feels related because it has been developed through the same system.

The Echo Chair continues ZHA and Nagami’s existing collaboration. Nagami launched its first collection of 3D-printed chairs in 2018, which included two designs by the architecture studio. Their latest project shows how much more refined large-scale 3D printing has become. The chair feels less like a technical experiment and more like a finished product with a clear place in contemporary interiors.

The Echo Chair is currently on display as part of London Creates at The Truman Brewery. What makes the chair interesting is the way it brings together material, form and manufacturing without overcomplicating the idea. Recycled plastic is treated as a starting point for the design, rather than something that needs to be disguised.

The post The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined first appeared on Yanko Design.

The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined

ZHA has collaborated with Spanish design brand Nagami to create the Echo Chair, a 3D-printed seat made from recycled plastic waste. Formerly known as Zaha Hadid Architects, the studio developed the chair through parametric design and large-scale additive manufacturing. Its form is fluid and sculptural, with an arched backrest that extends towards the floor and a seat that curves upwards at the sides.

The two parts look separate at first, but they are printed as one continuous piece. Both surfaces grow from the same structural edge and share the same underlying geometry. One becomes the seat, while the other rises to form the backrest and support.

Designer: ZHA and Nagami

This continuous construction gives the chair a clear sense of logic. The shape is doing several jobs at once: supporting the body, holding the structure together, and defining the overall visual character.

The Echo Chair was developed through an iterative research process at ZHA Lab and manufactured by Nagami, a brand known for its work in large-format 3D printing. The studios used recycled PETG sourced from industrial waste, including single-use medical plastics.

As the chair is printed layer by layer, the process leaves a ribbed texture across its surface. Those lines have been kept visible rather than hidden or polished away. That decision gives the chair much of its character. The texture follows the curves closely and makes the manufacturing process easy to read. It also gives the recycled plastic a more tactile, less generic appearance.

There is something useful in that honesty. The material is not being forced to look like timber, stone or metal. It keeps the visual qualities created by the printing process and uses them as part of the design. The surface does still reference natural materials in a subtle way. Its layered finish recalls mineral formations and carved stone, which helps the chair feel less industrial when placed in an interior.

ZHA and Nagami developed four colourways for the chair: white, black, a white-to-translucent gradient and a caramel tone made using a bio-based cork composite. The colour choices help shift the mood of the design. White makes the form feel lighter and more architectural, while black gives it a stronger, more graphic presence. The translucent version draws attention to the printing layers, and the caramel finish adds warmth to what could otherwise feel like a very technical object.

The caramel version is especially successful because it softens the synthetic quality of the plastic. It feels easier to imagine in a home, hotel lobby or lounge space, rather than only in a gallery or design exhibition. According to ZHA project design director Sebastian Andia, the goal was to turn an abundant and overlooked material into something people would genuinely want to live with. That idea matters because recycled material alone is rarely enough to make a product successful. People still need to like the object, find it comfortable and see a place for it in their environment.

The Echo Chair handles this well. Its sustainable story supports the design, rather than becoming the whole design. The seat’s raised sides create a more enclosed sitting position, while the curved backrest gives the chair a supportive and almost cocooned feel. The shape is expressive, but it still looks usable. Its scale and neutral colour options also make it easier to place than the form might suggest. It has enough presence to work as a statement piece, yet it does not depend on bright colour or decoration to stand out.

The 3D-printing process allows the chair to be produced without visible joints or separate components. This gives it a seamless appearance and keeps the connection between the digital model and final object very direct.

That connection is one of the strongest parts of the project. The manufacturing process does not sit behind the design. It shapes the design. The ribs, curves and continuous structure all come from the same production method. Each part of the chair feels related because it has been developed through the same system.

The Echo Chair continues ZHA and Nagami’s existing collaboration. Nagami launched its first collection of 3D-printed chairs in 2018, which included two designs by the architecture studio. Their latest project shows how much more refined large-scale 3D printing has become. The chair feels less like a technical experiment and more like a finished product with a clear place in contemporary interiors.

The Echo Chair is currently on display as part of London Creates at The Truman Brewery. What makes the chair interesting is the way it brings together material, form and manufacturing without overcomplicating the idea. Recycled plastic is treated as a starting point for the design, rather than something that needs to be disguised.

The post The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined first appeared on Yanko Design.

This Glowing Jello Table Lamp Balances Softness and Structure

There is something inherently temporary about jello. It trembles, folds, and gives way under the slightest pressure. Balloon sculptures behave much the same way, holding their shape only until the air begins to escape. MAJU’s Jello Lamp takes these fleeting forms and gives them permanence.

Designed by Hyu Lim, the sculptural table light translates the soft wobble of gelatin desserts and the inflated curves of balloon animals into a 3D-printed object. The result is playful without becoming novelty-driven, balancing generous proportions and rounded edges with the visual precision of digital fabrication. The lamp’s form is built around repetition. A fluted shade expands outward in soft, scalloped volumes, while the base continues the same inflated geometry below. Together, the two elements create a silhouette that appears almost compressible, despite being printed as a rigid, continuous body.

Designer: MAJU

That tension gives the lamp much of its character. Its shape suggests movement, softness and instability, while its construction fixes those qualities in place. MAJU uses one of the most controlled contemporary production methods to capture something loose and unpredictable. When illuminated, the object begins to soften again. Light passes through the translucent shade, diffusing into a warm 2700K glow that gathers along the ridged surface. The flutes become less defined, and the lamp takes on a fluid, almost edible quality.

It is here that the Jello Lamp moves beyond a visual reference. Rather than simply resembling a moulded dessert, it recreates its translucency and sense of suspended volume. The light source becomes part of the form, turning the lamp into an illuminated sculpture rather than a fixture with a decorative shade. Each piece is 3D printed to order in MAJU’s workshops in California and Singapore using plant-based, biodegradable PLA. The process allows the studio to produce the lamp’s curved geometry without conventional moulds, while also reducing excess inventory and material waste.

The visible texture of additive manufacturing is not concealed. Fine printed ridges run across the surface, catching light and revealing how the object was made. Instead of disrupting its softness, they add another layer of detail, sitting somewhere between the grooves of a dessert mould and the traces of a machine-built object.

The lamp is also designed as a modular system. Its shade and base can be replaced or upgraded independently, extending the life of the object rather than treating it as a sealed product. An integrated cord organiser is built into the base, keeping the cable from interrupting the lamp’s compact silhouette. Measuring 9.5 × 9.5 × 12.25 inches and weighing approximately half a pound, the Jello Lamp is light enough to move easily through domestic spaces. Its 2.9W bulb is intended to produce ambient illumination, positioning it as a quiet atmospheric object rather than a primary source of light.

Shown in Cottage Core Pink, the design leans into its confectionery associations. The colour, rounded profile and luminous surface recall something sweet and familiar, while the printed construction keeps the object rooted in contemporary production.

The Jello Lamp forms part of MAJU’s broader collection of plant-based home objects, shaped by the studio’s position between Singapore and California and by a combination of Eastern and Western design influences. Its most compelling quality, however, lies in a simpler contradiction. The lamp gives durability to forms that are usually defined by their impermanence. A balloon loses air. Jello collapses. Here, their softness is held in place, glowing quietly on a table.

The post This Glowing Jello Table Lamp Balances Softness and Structure first appeared on Yanko Design.

BIG Wraps Dymak’s Headquarters in Solar-Powered Timber

BIG’s new headquarters for Danish material supplier Dymak turns environmental performance into architecture. Rather than treating sustainability as a technical layer hidden within the building, the studio makes it central to the project’s form, materiality and identity.

Located beside Glisholm Lake in Odense, Denmark, the 2,800-square-metre headquarters is organised as a circular mass-timber structure around an open-air courtyard. Above it, an undulating roof rises and falls across the building, creating a form that recalls a Möbius strip. The result is sculptural and highly recognisable, but it is also shaped by practical concerns.

Designer: BIG

The roof rises towards the north to open views of the lake and surrounding forest, while sloping towards the south to provide shade and reduce solar heat gain. Its surface is covered with 880 custom-shaped photovoltaic panels, turning the roof into both an energy-producing system and the building’s main visual feature.

This combination of performance and spectacle is characteristic of BIG. The studio often transforms practical constraints into clear architectural gestures, and the Dymak headquarters follows the same approach. Solar orientation, shading and landscape views are not treated as separate problems. Instead, they are brought together within one continuous form.

The project also functions as a full-scale showcase for Dymak’s material portfolio. Mass timber forms the primary structure, while clay, cork, eelgrass and recycled paper fibres are used throughout the building. These materials are not displayed as isolated samples. They appear across the floors, ceilings, walls and structural elements, allowing visitors to experience them through texture, sound and scale.

BIG describes the building as a “living catalogue”, and the phrase captures its dual role. It is both a workplace and a demonstration of what Dymak’s materials can achieve. The architecture becomes part of the company’s identity, communicating ideas of craftsmanship, sustainability and material innovation.

This gives the headquarters a warmer atmosphere than the polished glass-and-steel language commonly associated with corporate buildings. Timber remains visible, brick-tiled flooring extends across interior and exterior spaces, and natural fibres soften the ceilings. The materials create a sense of tactility that reinforces the company’s focus while making the workplace feel less formal.

At the same time, the building clearly operates as a branding tool. Its solar roof, natural finishes and landscaped spaces present Dymak as environmentally responsible and forward-looking. Sustainability is not simply part of the building’s performance; it becomes part of the company’s public image.

At the centre of the circular plan is a landscaped courtyard conceived as a green amphitheatre. Planted terraces and stepped seating create space for informal meetings, gatherings and moments of rest. The courtyard is surrounded by glazing, allowing daylight and vegetation to remain visible from the surrounding interiors.

Unlike the dramatic roof, the courtyard does not rely on a strong visual metaphor. Its value is more direct. It creates a protected outdoor space, brings nature into the workplace and offers an alternative to desks and enclosed meeting rooms. Brick flooring continues across the threshold, reducing the distinction between inside and outside and making the garden feel like an extension of the office.

The ground floor contains a showroom, photo studio and fitness facilities, while the upper level includes open-plan workspaces, meeting rooms and lounge areas. A mezzanine connects the two floors, and the circular layout creates a continuous route around the courtyard.

The headquarters succeeds most when its sustainable ideas are experienced rather than simply announced. The warmth of timber, the shaded interiors, the continuity of the brick flooring and the presence of landscape all influence how the building feels in everyday use.

Still, the roof is likely to dominate how the project is remembered. Its Möbius-strip form is visually striking and easy to communicate, but it risks overshadowing the building’s quieter achievements. The use of low-carbon and bio-based materials, the creation of shared social spaces and the careful relationship with the surrounding landscape may ultimately be more significant than the headline image.

The project is not a universal model for office design. Its custom roof, circular plan and carefully selected materials make it highly specific to Dymak. Yet this specificity is also what makes it persuasive. By presenting timber, clay, eelgrass and recycled fibres within a polished corporate environment, the headquarters shows that low-carbon materials can support both technical performance and architectural ambition.

BIG’s Dymak headquarters does not attempt to disappear into the Danish landscape. It performs, advertises and turns sustainability into a statement. Its strength lies in showing that environmental responsibility can shape not only how a building performs, but also how it looks, feels and represents the organisation within it.

The post BIG Wraps Dymak’s Headquarters in Solar-Powered Timber first appeared on Yanko Design.

A Bell-Powered Playground for Collective Listening

French artist Céleste Boursier-Mougenot is widely known for uncovering the musical potential of objects and materials that were never intended to function as instruments. Rather than composing music in a conventional sense, he creates situations in which sound emerges through movement, interaction, chance, and the surrounding environment. His exhibition points de suspension, presented at Frac Normandie in Caen as part of the Normandie Impressionniste Festival, extends this approach across the cloister and galleries of a former seventeenth-century convent.

At the center of the courtyard is envolée, a playable musical installation made from swings and antique church bells. A circular steel structure, reminiscent of the bandstands that once animated public gardens, supports eight wooden swings. Above each one hangs a bronze bell of a different size, allowing every swing to produce its own distinct tone when set in motion.

Designer: Céleste Boursier-Mougenot

Visitors are invited to sit, push away from the ground, and activate the installation through the familiar movement of swinging. As the wooden seats rise and fall, the bells respond with changing rhythms and overlapping tones. No two performances can be repeated precisely. The resulting composition depends on how many people participate, how quickly they move, and whether their rhythms align or interrupt one another.

Boursier-Mougenot does not prescribe a melody for the group to perform. Instead, he designs the conditions from which a collective composition can emerge. The work only becomes fully active through the gestures of its participants, temporarily transforming strangers into performers. Individual actions accumulate into a shared sonic environment, allowing visitors to influence one another without needing to speak or coordinate deliberately.

The swing itself introduces another cultural and emotional layer to the installation. Appearing across civilizations as an object of ritual and recreation, it has been associated with ancient Egypt, seasonal festivities, springtime renewal, and the ornamental gardens of seventeenth-century France. It has also been understood as an object marking transitions between childhood and adulthood.

Within envolée, this nostalgic object is reframed as a device for reconsidering how bodies inhabit a public space. Swinging no longer belongs exclusively to childhood. It becomes a method of synchronizing movement, sound, attention, and proximity. The participant is simultaneously a listener, a performer, and an active component within the installation.

Extending beneath the structure is plage, a 900-square-meter field of crushed glass. Its shimmering surface resembles a crystalline body of water, reflecting the architecture, changing light, and movements of the visitors above it. The material produces an intentionally ambiguous landscape: dry yet apparently fluid, solid yet visually unstable. The courtyard of the former convent is consequently transformed into a glittering garden or an abstract lake, where the church bells form an evolving open-air score.

The experience continues inside the galleries with cameraobscura. Here, Boursier-Mougenot enlarges the optical principle of the camera obscura to the scale of an exhibition room. The exterior courtyard and its moving installation are projected upside down across the interior space, creating an immersive, inverted landscape. Suspended swings encourage visitors to pause beneath this reversed horizon, observing the world outside from an unfamiliar perspective.

The ringing bells remain audible indoors, connecting the projected image with the actions taking place outside. Sound shapes the perception of the moving image, while the projected movement gives visual form to the composition being created in the courtyard. Seeing and listening can no longer be understood as separate experiences. Instead, the two installations operate together, collapsing the boundaries between image, sound, architecture, and bodily movement.

Throughout his practice, Boursier-Mougenot draws resonance from ordinary materials and situations. At Frac Normandie, however, the instrument expands beyond the swings and bells to include the convent’s architecture, the reflective glass landscape, the changing light, and the people who temporarily occupy the site.

Points de suspension does more than ask visitors to interact with an artwork. It proposes another way of inhabiting public space—one that values curiosity, play, unplanned encounters, and collective attention. Through a simple act of swinging, visitors are encouraged to remain in the space a little longer, listen to those around them, and participate in a composition that belongs to no single person.

The post A Bell-Powered Playground for Collective Listening first appeared on Yanko Design.

Peckham House Balances Brutalism, Warmth, and Garden Living

Designing your own home gives you a kind of freedom most architects rarely get. There is no outside client shaping the brief, no fixed set of expectations, and far more room to experiment. But that freedom comes with its own pressure. For Surman Weston directors Tom Surman and Percy Weston, it meant setting the rules themselves and making sure the project lived up to the opportunity.

Peckham House, now occupied by Weston and his family, grew out of that unusual setup. The pair wanted to make the most of a small site without overbuilding it, while also using the project to test ideas that may have been harder to pursue with a conventional client and contractor. More than anything, they wanted the house to feel personal, not overly styled or tied to a single theme, but like a real family home with character, texture, and room to evolve.

Designer: Surman Weston

The site sits between three very different architectural settings in southeast London: a large Brutalist multi-storey car park opposite, a row of Victorian terraces to the south, and a local-authority housing estate to the east. Rather than choosing one of these as the main reference, Surman Weston designed the house to sit somewhere between all three. Its blocky, monolithic form takes cues from the car park, but the facade gradually becomes lighter as it rises, helping reduce the building’s visual impact beside the smaller Victorian homes nearby.

At street level, the brickwork is flat and solid. Above roughly 1.2 metres, the header bricks in the Flemish bond begin stepping back by five millimetres every five courses. The change is subtle at first, but becomes more visible toward the top of the house. By the time the wall reaches the roof terrace, the headers disappear completely, leaving behind an open hit-and-miss brick screen.

The house begins with the weight of a brick block and ends almost like a lattice, making the upper part of the building feel as though it is breaking apart into the sky. The same open brickwork forms the handrail around the roof terrace, allowing plants to grow through it and spill down the facade. Over time, the greenery will soften the house’s strong geometry and make the exterior feel less static.

Inside, Peckham House is arranged around an open-plan kitchen, dining, and living area, with three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. Despite the tight site, the architects included three gardens: one at the front, one at the back, and another on the roof. The rooftop garden is hidden from the street and reached through a sliding cork hatch. It includes a greenhouse that can be used for coffee, dining, growing fruit and vegetables, or drying clothes.

The greenhouse also plays a practical role in the way the house is ventilated. During warmer months, it draws hot air upward through the building, supporting passive airflow through the spaces below. What looks like a simple rooftop retreat therefore doubles as part of the home’s environmental strategy.

Developed with engineering studio Structure Workshop, the house is built mainly from timber and Lignacite, a type of blockwork made with recycled aggregate. The choice was partly practical, since it was a familiar construction method that Surman and Weston felt comfortable working with themselves. It also helped reduce the embodied carbon of the building while making use of the thermal mass provided by the blockwork.

Instead of covering these materials up, the architects left much of the structure exposed and allowed it to shape the atmosphere of the interior. The main living area brings together rough blockwork walls, lime plaster, exposed timber joists, and end-grain wood flooring. The floor was made using offcuts from the timber structure above, turning leftover material into one of the most distinctive features of the room.

Elsewhere, a bespoke shelving system made from aluminium profiles adds a lighter, more industrial element, while arched doorways crafted by joiner Tim Gaudin soften the otherwise rectilinear spaces. The same shape appears in reverse in the entrance gate on the front elevation, creating a small visual link between the inside and outside of the house.

Peckham House also includes photovoltaic panels, an air-source heat pump, and a mechanical ventilation heat recovery system. These technologies sit alongside passive strategies already built into the architecture, including the rooftop greenhouse and the thermal mass of the blockwork.

Although Peckham House is not Surman Weston’s first self-build project, it is the studio’s largest. Building it themselves meant they could continue adjusting the design as construction progressed. Details were refined on site, materials were reconsidered, and spaces changed as the pair spent more time inside them.

The process was slower and more stressful than a typical client-led project, but it also gave them a much closer understanding of how the house was coming together. That hands-on quality is visible throughout the finished building. The brickwork is structural, decorative, and responsive to the site. Timber offcuts become flooring, while the greenhouse serves as both a garden room and a ventilation tool.

Peckham House is carefully designed, but it does not feel overly controlled. It is solid without being severe, experimental without trying too hard, and personal without losing touch with its surroundings.

The post Peckham House Balances Brutalism, Warmth, and Garden Living first appeared on Yanko Design.

Swan-shaped Pavilion Turns A Forest Retreat Into Biophilic Beauty

Pavilions are often designed as architectural statements, structures intended to stand apart from their surroundings and immediately capture attention. The Swan Pavilion proposes a different relationship between architecture and landscape. Rather than competing with the lush jungle around it, the pavilion draws from the environment, using natural materials, organic forms, and an open spatial language to become part of the scenery.

Constructed primarily from bamboo, the pavilion takes the form of a giant swan resting peacefully among the trees. Its elongated neck rises gently above the surrounding vegetation, while the sweeping wings curve around the central gathering space. The result is both sculptural and architectural: a recognizable natural form transformed into an immersive environment for meditation, yoga, and quiet reflection.

Designer: Thilina Liyanage

The choice of the swan gives the structure an immediate emotional presence. Commonly associated with grace, serenity, purity, and transformation, the bird reflects the pavilion’s purpose as a place of retreat. Its calm posture suggests stillness, while its wings create a subtle sense of protection around those seated within. Instead of functioning as decoration alone, the swan’s anatomy becomes the architecture itself.

Bamboo plays an essential role in bringing this idea to life. Its warm tones connect naturally with the surrounding tree trunks and forest floor, helping the pavilion visually settle into the landscape. At the same time, bamboo’s slender and flexible character supports the structure’s flowing geometry. Repeated members curve along the pavilion’s body, neck, and wings, producing a rhythmic framework that feels almost skeletal.

This layered construction also allows the pavilion to remain open to its environment. Light filters through the gaps between the bamboo elements, creating shifting patterns of illumination throughout the day. The structure provides shade and enclosure without forming a complete barrier between visitors and the landscape. Views of water, trees, and sky remain visible from within, ensuring that nature continues to shape the experience.

The central platform offers a communal space for yoga, meditation, or small gatherings. Visitors are surrounded by the curved bamboo framework, yet they are never entirely separated from the jungle. Sounds of rustling leaves, moving water, wildlife, and wind become part of the pavilion’s atmosphere. Rather than creating a controlled interior, the architecture allows the sensory qualities of the site to enter and influence the space.

Its elevated position further contributes to the feeling of escape. Raised above the water and vegetation, the pavilion offers visitors a momentary pause from the outside world. The journey into the structure feels less like entering a conventional building and more like discovering a hidden sanctuary within the forest.

Despite its dramatic form, the Swan Pavilion does not feel imposed upon the landscape. Its natural material palette, porous construction, and fluid silhouette allow it to maintain a sense of visual harmony with its surroundings. The structure attracts attention through curiosity and imagination rather than through contrast.

The project demonstrates how biomimicry can shape more than the appearance of a building. Here, the swan provides the pavilion with its structure, symbolism, atmosphere, and spatial identity. Its wings offer shelter, its body contains the gathering space, and its graceful posture reinforces the feeling of calm. By allowing bamboo, landscape, and symbolism to work together, the pavilion transforms the image of a resting swan into a secluded jungle retreat, one that invites visitors to slow down, breathe, and reconnect with the natural world.

The post Swan-shaped Pavilion Turns A Forest Retreat Into Biophilic Beauty first appeared on Yanko Design.