Tag Archives: Architecture

This Japanese-Inspired Garden Studio in California Is Doing Three Jobs at Once

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The name says two. The building delivers three. Tucked behind a 1912 home in Fairfax, California, Two-Fold Studio is the latest project from San Francisco-based practice ONO, founded in 2020 by Max Obata and Tyler Noblin, and it might be one of the most quietly considered small structures the firm has produced yet.

The client, a general contractor and a ceramic artist who also teaches Pilates, came to ONO with a precise brief: build a pavilion that could hold a Pilates studio, a ceramics workshop complete with kiln, storage, and kitchenette, and, when the occasion calls for it, a guesthouse. Three programmes, one 800-square-foot structure, and a yard full of trees that weren’t going anywhere. The architects delivered on all counts.

Designer: ONO

Rather than bulldoze the site into submission, ONO bent the building around it. The structure contorts into an L-shape, folding around the pre-existing trees to maintain the yard’s existing character. The form then becomes a kind of frame, a viewing pavilion, in ONO’s words, taking direct reference from the Ryoan-ji Rock Garden in Kyoto. The relationship between building and landscape isn’t incidental here; it’s the whole point.

On the outside, the building reads modestly. Cedar shingles tie it back to the original home, keeping the new structure from announcing itself too loudly against the surrounding hills. Sliding glass doors, cheerfully framed in yellow powder-coated aluminum, open one side of the building entirely to the outdoors, creating a small patio underlined by the roof’s generous overhang. The yellow wasn’t arbitrary. Obata has noted that the client works in bold colour in her ceramics, so the palette needed to hold its own.

Step inside, and the two halves of the studio read distinctly but feel continuous. The Pilates side is warm and spare, finished in wood that flows through to a bathroom lined in plaster, a softer material that adds texture without breaking the natural language of the space. The ceramics side opens wider, with blue cabinets, exposed ceiling beams, and zinc countertops chosen specifically for the way they’ll patina into a silvery blue over time. A long work desk doubles as a kitchen counter, adjacent to a kiln neatly tucked into a wall niche.

Clerestory windows flood the ceramics studio with light while maintaining privacy from the street. In summer, with the sliding doors thrown open, afternoon light comes in late and high, ideal, as Obata puts it, for working well into the evening. Two-Fold is small, specific, and built entirely around the person who uses it. That’s what makes it memorable.

The post This Japanese-Inspired Garden Studio in California Is Doing Three Jobs at Once first appeared on Yanko Design.

A Tiny Cabin in Hungary Is Quietly Rewriting Hospitality

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The cabin that keeps showing up in my feed sits in the forested hills of northern Hungary, and once you see it, it is genuinely hard to unsee it. NestOff, designed by architect and interior designer Péter Kotek, is a prefabricated micro-retreat measuring just 20 square meters. On paper, that sounds like a significant compromise. In practice, it reads like a very calm, very confident argument that most of us have been taking up far too much space for far too long.

I have a complicated relationship with the micro-living conversation. It tends to swing between two exhausting extremes: the breathlessly optimistic content creator who insists that 18 square meters is “more than enough space for everything,” and the architecture critic who reminds us, correctly, that small spaces have historically been a symptom of poverty rather than a lifestyle choice. NestOff somehow sidesteps both camps entirely. It is not pretending to be a permanent home, and it is not selling you a fantasy of radical simplicity. It is a retreat. A considered, intelligently designed retreat, tucked between trees in Romhány in northern Hungary, and it wears that identity with genuine confidence.

Designer: Peter Kotek

Kotek worked with cabin fabricator Tajga-Depo to partially build the structure off-site, which meant better precision, reduced material waste, and a significantly shorter construction timeline on location. The cabin sits on ground screw foundations rather than poured concrete, and that decision matters more than it might initially seem. It means the structure can eventually be relocated without leaving a scar on the landscape beneath it. In an era when “eco-conscious design” has become something of a branding exercise, NestOff actually follows through on the promise. The land remains largely undisturbed. That is a genuinely rare thing to be able to say.

Inside, birch plywood covers the walls, ceilings, and built-in furniture, giving the space a warm and continuous quality that feels more like inhabiting a well-crafted object than occupying a room. The panoramic opening does exactly what a good view should do: it pulls the outside in without letting the outside overwhelm the interior. You are still in an enclosed, protected space, but the valley stretches out in front of you like a second room you never had to build or pay for. Kotek clearly understood that in a cabin this size, the view is not a bonus feature. It is structural.

The outdoor program is where NestOff gets particularly interesting. Two black timber vertical board cabins, the main unit and a separate sauna structure, are connected by a tiered larch deck. A hot tub sits alongside it. The sequence of spaces, moving from the interior out to the deck and then to the sauna and back, creates a rhythm of use that feels more deliberate than most full-sized hotels ever manage to achieve. Rest, bathing, sitting outside, going back in. It is not complicated. It is just very well thought out.

I keep returning to the question of what we actually need from a retreat. Not a vacation, which tends to involve airports, itineraries, and the performance of relaxation, but a genuine retreat. My honest answer is: not much. A bed. A meaningful view. Hot water. A reason to put the phone away. NestOff covers all of it within 20 square meters and a larch deck, and it does so without apology. That is not a failure of ambition. That is ambition pointed firmly in the right direction.

The micro-cabin category is crowded right now. Everyone from Scandinavian design studios to Silicon Valley-adjacent startups has something competing in that space. What separates NestOff from the noise is its complete absence of performance. It is not trying to impress you with a feature list or a manifesto. It is trying to give you a few nights in the Hungarian hills with nowhere else to be, and it is quietly very good at that one thing. Sometimes, that really is the whole point.

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Foshan’s Forgotten Warehouses Got a Rooftop Park Under Floating Domes

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Somewhere along the Huadi River in Foshan, China, a cluster of old grain storage warehouses has been turned into one of the most quietly poetic pieces of architecture I’ve seen all year. The Yongping Warehouse Renovation, completed in 2025 by Guangzhou-based Atelier cnS, is exactly the kind of project that makes you stop scrolling and actually look.

The site sits in Dali Town, Nanhai District, a former industrial pocket of the Pearl River Delta that’s been gradually shedding its factory-town skin in favor of something more livable and publicly accessible. These particular warehouses, lined up along the riverfront, were derelict grain storage buildings with no obvious future. Not exactly glamorous source material. But Atelier cnS didn’t flinch, and the result is a project that earns its attention without asking for it loudly.

Designer: Atelier cnS

Because the site has a narrow footprint, the architects pushed the public space upward, placing a landscaped rooftop park above the commercial interiors below. Vertical programming isn’t a new idea, but what makes Yongping feel different is how thoughtfully the transition between levels was handled. The gaps between warehouse blocks weren’t sealed or filled in. Instead, they were preserved and widened into passageways, so as you move through the building, you catch glimpses of the river framed by walls before the whole view opens up at the top. It’s a slow reveal, and it’s deliberate.

And then there are the canopies. A series of translucent, domed structures built from hexagonal frames cluster across the roofline like a quiet gathering of clouds. Atelier cnS actually named the project “A Wisp of Cloud” over Huadi River, and the photos earn that name completely. The domes are light-diffusing, casting shade without blocking river views. They create zones for sitting, moving, and play without ever feeling like they’re closing the space in. They look like they arrived gently, rather than being imposed on the building below them.

The rooftop itself is shaped into slopes, steps, and play surfaces that echo the original pitched forms of the warehouse roofs. It’s one of those details that most visitors probably won’t consciously register, but it’s exactly the kind of architectural memory that makes a renovation feel grounded rather than gratuitous. The old buildings aren’t being pretended out of existence. The new design is in active conversation with what was there before.

I’m genuinely drawn to this project because it gets the balance right in a way that many adaptive reuse projects don’t quite manage. Too often, the renovations that attract the most attention are the ones where the new design overwhelms the original structure, turning the old building into nothing more than a convenient shell. Yongping avoids that trap. The warehouses are still very much present. Their bones dictate the rhythm, the circulation, and some of the visual language of the final result. You can feel the history of the place without having to read about it first.

Atelier cnS has been developing this kind of thinking for years. The studio’s earlier work on elevated public circulation, including a “roof-hopping” design approach explored in their White House Guesthouse project, signals a long-running interest in finding new life in existing structures. Yongping feels like a maturation of that sensibility. More refined, more integrated, and more tuned in to the texture of a neighborhood mid-transition.

The project spans 4,311 square meters, and it’s worth noting what it does beyond the architecture itself. Turning a commercial renovation into a publicly accessible rooftop park, in a district shifting away from its industrial past, is a real act of generosity. A park on a roof could easily read as a private amenity. Here, it reads like a gift to the neighborhood, a place to walk, rest, and look out at the river without needing a reason to be there.

Architecture doesn’t always need to announce itself to be worth paying attention to. The Yongping Warehouse Renovation is understated, purposeful, and lit from above by a cluster of translucent domes that look, from a distance, exactly like a wisp of cloud over the river.

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This 25sqm Australian Tiny House Feels Anything But Small

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The best tiny homes don’t feel small; they feel edited. Removed Tiny Homes, a Queensland-based builder, has built its entire identity around that idea, and the Currumbin is arguably where it lands best. Named after the coastal suburb on the Gold Coast, the Currumbin is the most popular model in the builder’s lineup, and it’s easy to see why. Sitting on a triple-axle trailer, it measures 7.2 metres long, 2.4 metres wide, and stands 4.3 metres tall, coming in at 25 square metres of liveable space. For a home that technically fits on a trailer, it carries itself with surprising generosity.

The layout is designed with couples and downsizers in mind. A loft bedroom sits above the living zone, accessed via a standing-height walkway and staircase, the kind of considered detail that separates a well-designed tiny home from a glorified caravan. A skylight overhead floods the sleeping area with natural light, giving the loft an almost meditative quality. Two layout options are available, letting buyers tailor the floor plan to how they actually live, rather than forcing a compromise.

Designer: Removed Tiny Homes

Downstairs, the kitchen takes centre stage. A large picture window anchors the cooking space, framing the outdoors like a piece of art. The interior features VJ panelling customisable in different tones, wood-like vinyl board flooring, and white walls and ceiling set against black windows, a palette that feels calm and resolved without trying too hard. It’s the kind of interior that photographs well, but more importantly, lives well.

Strategically placed expansive windows provide the interior with ample light, making it feel cosy and bright, a critical move in a home this scale, where the relationship between inside and outside does the heavy lifting. Priced from $128,990, the Currumbin sits at the entry point of Removed’s Classic range, yet it doesn’t feel like a starting point. It feels considered from end to end. The brand’s philosophy of building homes that help people “disconnect from the noise” with calm, clarity, and craftsmanship at the core is felt in every decision, from the stair storage to the picture window placement.

The Currumbin’s success has since led Removed to develop the Currumbin 9.6, a 31.4-foot follow-up that moves the bedroom downstairs with a full walkthrough en-suite bathroom, catering to those who’d rather skip the loft entirely. But the original 7.2 remains the sweet spot. Small enough to move, large enough to mean something.

The post This 25sqm Australian Tiny House Feels Anything But Small first appeared on Yanko Design.

Jantzen’s EV Station Turns the Desert’s Worst Feature Into Its Power

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Electric vehicles have been gaining ground steadily, but one of the more stubborn problems hasn’t been the cars themselves; it’s been finding somewhere to charge them when you’re far from a city. In a high desert environment, that problem gets considerably more pointed. The open stretch between towns can be long, the heat unforgiving, and the typical charging infrastructure designed with urban convenience in mind rather than remote landscape realities.

Designer Michael Jantzen, based in Santa Fe, has been exploring exactly this gap with his proposal for the High Desert Charging Station, a large steel solar-powered facility conceived specifically for hot, sunny desert environments. The design doesn’t try to transplant a suburban charging setup into an unfamiliar context. It takes the desert’s most defining characteristic, its relentless sun, as the primary resource.

Designer: Michael Jantzen

The structure is built around a circular plan, with a large solar panel disc elevated on a tapered central pedestal. Sunlight converts directly into electricity for the vehicles below. When generation exceeds demand, the excess feeds back into the local power grid. When the sun isn’t enough, the grid returns electricity to the station, keeping all 16 charging spots running regardless of conditions.

Those 16 spots are arranged symmetrically around the facility’s perimeter, each one marked by a concrete docking pad, a pair of yellow security bumpers, and a dedicated charging pedestal. Walkways connect each spot inward toward the center, threading through alternating patches of synthetic green grass that bring a small but deliberate contrast to the surrounding landscape. It’s a reminder that the design intends to do more than just charge cars.

Jantzen intends the walkways and ground-level layout to feel more like a destination than a service stop. The synthetic grass patches introduce a note of green into an otherwise arid setting, and the circular plan gives the facility a clear sense of orientation. You pull in, follow a path inward, and arrive at a shaded space at the center. The sequence is deliberate.

That’s where the shade canopy comes in. The open steel framework radiates outward from the central core, creating a covered space beneath the solar panel above. Drivers aren’t expected to stand in the open desert heat while their vehicles charge. They can move inside, where yellow cylindrical seats and a restroom built into the central structure make the wait genuinely more comfortable.

The whole thing is conceived as a landmark as much as it is a facility. Jantzen describes the conceptual logic as electricity flowing from the sun, down through the structure, and into the vehicles below, a visible cycle that gives the station a coherent narrative from top to bottom. That kind of intentionality is what separates it from the standard box-and-cable approach that dominates most existing charging infrastructure.

EV adoption in remote and rural areas still lags, in part because the charging infrastructure hasn’t caught up with demand. A proposal like this doesn’t solve that shortfall outright, but it does ask a more useful question than most: not how to transplant an existing model into the desert, but how to let the desert itself dictate what the design becomes.

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At 130 Sq Ft, This Multifunctional Tiny Home Fits Everything You Actually Need

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There’s a philosophy embedded in the Shoji tiny home that goes beyond architecture. “Enjoy, sleep, relax, cook, work, connect, disconnect. Do only what truly matters.” That’s the ethos of Bulgarian firm Koleliba, the award-winning tiny living brand behind one of the most quietly striking small homes to come out of Europe in recent years.

Completed in November 2022 and sited in Brittany, France, the Shoji is Koleliba’s S Tiny model, measuring just 130 sq ft (12 sq m) and stretching only 5.5 meters (18 ft) in length. Designed alongside architect Hristina Hristova, the home sits on a double-axle trailer, making it fully mobile without sacrificing an ounce of intention. The name itself is a nod to the Japanese aesthetic: clean lines, natural materials, and a deep respect for negative space.

Designer: Koleliba

From the outside, the Shoji is finished in vertical timber siding topped with a metal roof, punctuated by expansive windows and sliding glass doors that dissolve the boundary between inside and out. It’s the kind of exterior that looks equally at home in a forest clearing or a countryside field, modest at first glance but considered in every detail.

Step inside, and the birch plywood interior wraps the space in warmth. One of Koleliba’s defining signatures is designing furniture as a seamless continuation of the interior itself, so the Shoji never feels like a box stuffed with objects. A U-shaped couch converts into a queen-size bed. There’s a dedicated home office desk, essential kitchen appliances, a washing machine, and a roomy shower, all packed into a footprint that defies logic. Electric floor heating and solid winter insulation mean the home is genuinely livable year-round, not just a warm-weather escape.

A full-length black floating shelf runs the length of one wall, the kind of detail that could easily overwhelm a small space but instead anchors it, giving the interior a gallery-like calm. Everything here feels deliberate, placed without excess. The Shoji’s owner, Jonathan Guennoc, put it best: “Our SHOJI home is the most spacious not spacious space.” That contradiction is exactly the point. Koleliba didn’t design a house with things left out. They designed a home where nothing is missing.

The Shoji has since inspired a follow-up, the Shoji 2, building on the original with improved features and a lighter design. But the original remains a benchmark, proof that at 130 square feet, the right design doesn’t ask you to compromise. It asks you to reconsider what you actually need.

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De’Longhi Just Turned 5 Coffee Machines Into Tiny Cafés

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If you’re a coffee lover, chances are you’re also a fan of going to coffee shops. While most die-hard connoisseurs would probably prefer to make a cup for themselves, apparently 72% of consumers still believe that the best coffee can only be made in a café, by actual experts who trained for it (well, unless you did train as an actual barista and have the complete equipment at home).

De’Longhi wanted to show that you can have café-quality coffee at home, and they did it in the most charming, unexpected way possible: by turning their machines into miniature versions of the world’s most iconic cafés. The campaign is called “The World’s Smallest Coffee Shop,” developed in partnership with creative agency LOLA Madrid and brought to life by master miniaturist Simon Weisse and his collaborator Cindy Schnitter. Weisse is no stranger to creating miniature movie magic; he is best known for his work with director Wes Anderson on films like The Grand Budapest Hotel and Asteroid City, where his tiny, hand-crafted worlds became just as iconic as the stories themselves.

Designer: Simon Weisse and Cindy Schnitter for De’Longhi

The idea was simple yet brilliant: create five intricate, handcrafted miniature café façades and mount them directly onto De’Longhi’s bean-to-cup coffee machines. Each of these five miniature coffee shops is inspired by an iconic global coffee culture city and paired with an elite De’Longhi machine:

🇫🇷 Paris mounted on the Rivelia
🇯🇵 Tokyo mounted on the Magnifica Evo Next
🇮🇹 Milan mounted on the Eletta Ultra
🇩🇰 Copenhagen mounted on the Eletta Explore
🇩🇪 Berlin mounted on the Primadonna Aromatic

It’s not just a simple miniature, of course, given the credentials of the designers and their team. Each piece was hand-built over 1,500 hours total using traditional model-making techniques by specialist model makers. They incorporated architectural textures, aged finishes, and intricate detailing, including tiny windows and miniature signage, just as if they were crafting a set for a major film production. The level of care poured into every surface and every tiny detail is nothing short of extraordinary.

What makes this campaign particularly compelling is the signature technique Weisse’s studio brings to the table: “forced perspective,” the same cinematic method used on film sets to make miniature environments appear life-sized and completely believable. When De’Longhi approached the studio, Weisse immediately recognized an opportunity to apply this storytelling craft to something most of us interact with every single morning: a coffee machine. The goal wasn’t just to create something beautiful to look at, but to shift the way we think about where great coffee truly comes from.

The result is nothing short of a collector’s dream. Looking at each machine, it’s hard not to imagine yourself sitting at a tiny cobblestoned café in Paris, warming your hands around a bowl of café au lait, or perched on a Tokyo street corner, breathing in the scent of a perfectly pulled espresso. The detail is so immersive and so deliberate that the machine stops being an appliance and becomes an experience, or rather, an entire world in miniature.

The campaign made its stunning debut at Milan Design Week 2026, one of the most prestigious design events in the world, where all five machines were showcased together for the very first time. And the timing couldn’t be more fitting: in a world where home has become our office, our restaurant, and our gym, why shouldn’t it also be our favorite café?

De’Longhi CMO Aparna Sundaresh summed it up beautifully: “The café hasn’t just been miniaturised; it has been brought home.” Whether you’re a collector drawn to the artistry, a coffee lover chasing the perfect cup, or simply someone who appreciates craftsmanship that makes you stop and stare, The World’s Smallest Coffee Shop is a masterclass in how great design can transform the everyday into something truly extraordinary, one tiny façade at a time.

The post De’Longhi Just Turned 5 Coffee Machines Into Tiny Cafés first appeared on Yanko Design.

How a Park in China Made Public Space Feel Human

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Most parks follow a familiar formula: some benches, a jogging path, maybe a playground, and if you’re lucky, a fountain. They’re functional, sure, but they rarely feel like they were designed with any real conviction. Orchestra Park in Kunshan, China, by local studio SoBA, is a different kind of project altogether. It’s one of those rare public spaces that actually earns its name.

The park sits in the Huaqiao Economic Development Zone, tucked between two high-density residential neighborhoods at the confluence of two rivers, covering 8,500 square meters. On paper, it sounds modest. In reality, it’s the kind of project that makes you wonder why more cities aren’t doing this.

Designer: SoBA

The entire design draws from sizhu music, a traditional form of Jiangnan Silk and Bamboo music recognized as part of the area’s intangible cultural heritage. Played on instruments like the bamboo flute and erhu, sizhu is known for its graceful, flowing melodies. SoBA took that quality literally, translating the music’s “curves and rhythm” directly into the park’s physical forms. The jogging path follows the curves of musical instruments. The layout flows rather than divides. Scattered throughout are interactive, trumpet-like music installations that double as sculptural features. It’s the kind of design move that could easily feel gimmicky, but here it reads as genuinely considered.

What makes it work, I think, is the restraint. SoBA’s founding partner Ruo Wang described the challenge as integrating park facilities “without disrupting the ecological balance.” The site already had mature camphor and dawn redwood trees, as well as nearby wetlands, and the team made a deliberate choice to keep those elements intact rather than clearing the slate for something new and shiny. That’s not a small thing. That decision alone separates Orchestra Park from a lot of contemporary public projects that bulldoze their context in the name of design.

The spatial program is surprisingly layered for something under a hectare. There’s a skatepark, a climbing area, a fitness playground, an open-air theater, bamboo grove pathways, a musical fountain plaza, and a small music classroom. A viewing platform extends out over the wetland at the northwest corner, and a small bridge leads to a winding path that loops the entire park and connects back to the surrounding neighborhoods. It’s a lot to pack in, and yet nothing about the space feels cluttered. The geometry is precise, combining straight lines and tangent arcs to create what the team describes as a “fluid yet rational form.”

And then there’s the yellow. Bright, saturated, impossible to ignore. SoBA used it as an accent throughout: on the music installations, balustrades, planters, the lines of the running track, and a series of tunnels punched through a curved wall. It’s an unapologetically bold choice in a project that otherwise prioritizes softness and nature, and it works precisely because of that contrast. The yellow pulls you through the park like a visual thread, giving the space both coherence and energy. At the eastern end, cylindrical restroom structures are topped with leaf-shaped aluminum canopies, also yellow. Even the infrastructure has a personality here.

SoBA operates under a philosophy they call “Soft Build,” which emphasizes agility, sensitivity, and inclusiveness. That framing might sound like the kind of thing you’d read in an architecture brief and promptly forget, but Orchestra Park genuinely backs it up. The space serves children, skaters, fitness enthusiasts, music lovers, and people who just want to sit near trees. It doesn’t force a single narrative onto its users. That kind of openness is harder to design than it looks.

Public parks are often where design ambition goes to die, buried under budget constraints, committee approvals, and the pressure to please everyone at once. Orchestra Park sidesteps that fate by doing something deceptively simple: it starts with a cultural idea, commits to it fully, and lets everything else follow. The result is a park that doesn’t just serve its community. It reflects it.

The post How a Park in China Made Public Space Feel Human first appeared on Yanko Design.

Georgia Is Building a Chess Palace That Looks Exactly Like a Chessboard

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Georgia has a claim on chess culture that goes deeper than most countries appreciate. The nation has produced grandmasters at a rate disproportionate to its size, and the game is woven into its educational and cultural identity in ways that feel genuinely foundational rather than ornamental. Given that context, the decision to build a dedicated Chess Palace in Batumi reads as overdue rather than extravagant, the kind of civic investment that a country with this relationship to the game probably should have made a generation ago.

What makes the Batumi Chess Palace architecturally compelling is that Irakli Emiridze of Alpha Architecture refused to treat chess as mere decoration. The entire building is organized around the game’s visual logic. Its form references an unfolded chessboard, its facades use perforated solar shading to animate a black and white grid pattern with real-time light and shadow, and a dramatic sculptural installation marks the entrance as both functional threshold and symbolic statement. The two-story, 60-meter-deep structure is due for completion in 2027, housing a tournament hall, chess library, hotel rooms, exhibition spaces, a gym, and study rooms.

Designer: Irakli Emiridze, Alpha Architecture

Perforated solar shades wrap all four elevations in a dense, pixelated black and white grid that shifts in depth and shadow as the sun moves across it. In still photography, the building reads as a graphic object, clean and immediate. Experienced over the course of a day, the surface behaves more like a living board mid-game, its apparent pattern changing with conditions outside any designer’s control. That quality, the way the building changes without changing, separates a strong concept from a merely clever one. The HPL panel system that underlies the shading adds durability to what could have been a purely cosmetic gesture.

Emiridze has extended the chessboard geometry across the entire site rather than limiting it to the elevations. From above, the rooftop alternates planted green squares against glazed skylights in a grid that mirrors the facade pattern. The ground plane continues in oversized alternating light and dark paving squares that push the building’s visual field outward into the surrounding landscape. Every vantage point, aerial, street level, interior looking out, returns the same binary rhythm, a level of conceptual commitment that most thematic buildings abandon the moment it becomes structurally inconvenient.

Rather than placing a literal chess piece at the entrance, Emiridze commissioned a tall, twisting corten-steel installation, two interlocking curved fins spiraling upward into a form that hovers between abstraction and figuration. It suggests a chess piece without depicting one, which is the more intelligent move. A literal rook or knight would have read as theme-park signage. This form reads as architecture, and the warm oxide tone of the corten against the monochrome facade gives the building’s street presence a focal point that earns its scale.

The program signals serious ambition for chess tourism. Beyond the tournament hall and study rooms, the building incorporates a chess library, exhibition space, conference facilities, a sports shop, a food facility, hotel rooms with two adapted for disabled visitors, and a gym. That breadth positions Batumi as a potential international destination for the chess world, a place where a grandmaster could arrive, compete, study, eat, and sleep without leaving the building. Alpha Architecture won this commission through a governmental competition, which means the Chess Palace carries public accountability alongside its conceptual ambition. The real test arrives in 2027, when Batumi either gets a landmark that genuinely serves its chess community, or a building that performed better on screen than on the ground. The bones are strong enough to be optimistic.

The post Georgia Is Building a Chess Palace That Looks Exactly Like a Chessboard first appeared on Yanko Design.

These 5 Playful Everyday Objects Were Designed to Make You Feel Like a Kid Again

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For decades, “form follows function” shaped how you designed and lived. Minimalism stripped objects down to pure utility, where functional products like a chair were only a chair, or a lamp was only a source of light. That clarity once felt essential, but now it feels incomplete. We are moving into an era of playful functional design, where everyday objects reclaim character, becoming whimsical, unexpected, and slightly strange.

This shift is not about excess but about emotional precision. Function no longer ends at performance, but it extends into experience. Objects are designed to engage, surprise, and evoke emotion. A well-designed piece does not simply serve a purpose; it leaves a lasting impression.

1. Interactive Furniture Design

The era of the static, rigid sofa is fading as furniture begins to take on a more expressive role. Pieces are no longer designed to sit quietly in the background, but they carry presence through bold forms and modular compositions. Soft, blobby silhouettes and subtle anthropomorphic details transform chairs and stools into objects that feel almost alive, inviting interaction.

The real transformation lies in how people engage with these designs. Materials like memory foam and recycled plastics allow furniture to adapt to the body, shifting from passive to responsive. As a result, furniture moves beyond function and begins to feel more like a companion within a space. This shift creates interiors that are more intimate, expressive, and dynamic, where everyday objects actively shape the playful atmosphere.

Playful furniture is reshaping everyday living, and the UMI Armchair by Rostislav Sorokovoy for Woo reflects this shift with ease. It moves beyond conventional seating, becoming an interactive object that sparks curiosity. Its bold, chunky form carries a soft, sculptural presence, giving it the character of a modern art piece. Designed to invite engagement, the chair encourages relaxed lounging and a more instinctive, almost childlike interaction.

Its distinctive horseshoe shape is created using two cylindrical volumes, supported by four plush legs that provide both stability and visual charm. Constructed with a plywood frame, polyurethane foam, and textile upholstery, it delivers comfort alongside strong design appeal. While its scale may not suit compact interiors, it works effortlessly in larger spaces where its expressive form can stand out. Whether used alone or in pairs, it creates a seating arrangement that feels tactile, inviting, and visually dynamic.

2. Sculptural Light Design

Lighting has moved beyond pure function, evolving into something sculptural, immersive, and subtly performative. A fixture is no longer just a source of illumination as it becomes an object that encourages interaction. With hidden LEDs and responsive sensors, even the simple act of turning on a light feels more intentional, almost ritual-like.

The experience is defined by engagement. Some lamps require a physical gesture, like placing a glowing orb to activate them, while others shift form as they dim, echoing organic movement. When light is treated as a material to shape and experience, rather than just a utility, it transforms the mood of a space. Shadows gain depth, and dim corners turn into moments of intrigue, adding a layer of quiet wonder to everyday environments.

Lighting is often viewed as purely functional, designed to illuminate and enhance a space. Yet some designs move beyond utility, introducing interaction and character without feeling overly whimsical. The reimagined Model 600 by Bottega Veneta x Flos, created by Gino Sarfatti, captures this balance with ease. Its rounded base offers a soft, inviting presence, while the slender metal stem adds a refined contrast, resulting in a form that feels both approachable and sophisticated.

The original 1960s design embraced experimentation with a weighted leather base that could tilt without falling. The updated version retains this dynamic feature while introducing an interwoven leather texture that enhances its visual depth. Functionally versatile, it serves as a desk and floor lamp, with adjustable light direction through a curved reflector. Available in multiple sizes and colors, it merges structure with softness, creating a lighting piece that feels engaging, elegant, and enduring.

3. Playful Gadgets

Technology has long been defined by precision and restraint, often creating a sense of distance through its polished perfection. That gap is now narrowing, as a new generation of gadgets introduces softness, charm, and tactility. Drawing from “kawaii” influences and responsive design, these objects invite touch and emotional connection, from companion-like power banks to speakers that move and respond with sound.

The real shift is in how these devices are perceived and experienced. Tools once valued solely for efficiency are now designed as sensory interactions. A hard drive wrapped in soft silicone, yielding like a stress ball, blurs the line between utility and play. In this transition, technology becomes more personal and approachable, transforming everyday use into something warmer, lighter, and more human-centered.

Some gadgets stand out not for precision or minimalism, but for their sense of character. The Anomalo FM radio by SHINKOGEISHA leans into this idea, presenting itself as an object that feels closer to a playful sculpture than a conventional device. With its bold colors and exaggerated form, it instantly grabs attention, sparking curiosity even before it’s switched on. The tall antenna anchors the design, while branching, limb-like extensions give it an almost animated presence.

Each extension serves a clear function, creating a tactile, engaging experience. A roulette dial scans stations, a barrel controls volume, and a bold speaker projects sound, while exposed wiring enhances its expressive look. Made with PLA through digital fabrication, it favors creativity over polish, reflecting a shift toward more personal, experimental electronics.

4. The Joy of Stationery

Even in a digital world, the desk is becoming a space for quiet play. Stationery is no longer purely functional as it engages the senses. The focus has moved beyond simple aesthetics to how tools feel, respond, and enhance the act of making.

Erasable inks react to friction, washi tapes create layered compositions, and modular notebooks connect with magnetic precision. Writing no longer feels routine as it transforms into a small ritual, where thinking on paper feels intentional, creative, and deeply satisfying.

Objects on a desk quietly influence mood and thought throughout the day. While some environments lean toward minimal setups for clarity, others incorporate subtle moments of joy. The Madang collection by Jiung Yun, Siwook Lee, Jihyun Hong, and Junsu Lee brings these ideas together, balancing simplicity with a gentle sense of play inspired by traditional Korean childhood games.

Each piece translates a familiar activity into a functional object. A wrist tool references tug-of-war, trays mirror playful ground layouts, and clips echo movement-based games, turning routine actions into engaging interactions. Even more abstract elements, like a circular timer or sculptural pen holder, carry narrative undertones. Finished in a soft white and orange palette, the collection remains visually calm yet expressive, adding character without clutter while making everyday work feel lighter and more thoughtful.

5. Joyful Building Design

Playful thinking is extending into architecture, reshaping how buildings and cities are experienced. The rigid “gray box” is gradually giving way to environments that encourage curiosity and movement. Designers are introducing spatial surprises into everyday settings, from slides integrated into workspaces to hidden gardens within facades and windows that break rigid grids to filter light in unexpected ways.

These interventions go beyond visual appeal. They disrupt routine and draw attention to the surroundings. A burst of color or an unconventional pathway shifts perception, encouraging awareness and engagement. As a result, architecture moves beyond shelter, becoming more interactive and expressive while transforming the built environment into something dynamic, human-centered, and quietly uplifting.

Most early school memories are tied to plain, boxy classrooms that felt more functional than inspiring. Spaces like these rarely encourage curiosity or creativity, making learning feel routine rather than exciting. In contrast, thoughtfully designed environments can shape how children engage with education. In Laurel Canyon, Los Angeles, Wonderland Elementary School’s new kindergarten building by John Friedman Alice Kimm Architects (JFAK) reimagines this experience through a design that feels open, engaging, and visually dynamic.

The structure stands out with its soft, curved form and colorful exterior louvers that filter sunlight into shifting patterns across the interiors. Inside, natural light pours in through skylights and solar tubes, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Classrooms feature circular reading nooks, low seating, and accessible storage tailored for young learners. A semi-covered outdoor space encourages interaction and play, while exposed ceilings reveal structural elements, sparking curiosity. Designed with sustainability in mind, the building blends function with imagination, turning everyday learning into a more engaging and enriching experience.

Everyday objects still hold the power to surprise. When play enters function, design softens decision fatigue and digital burnout. Objects with wit and warmth transform spaces, turning routine into experience and making daily life feel more engaging, expressive, and alive.

The post These 5 Playful Everyday Objects Were Designed to Make You Feel Like a Kid Again first appeared on Yanko Design.