Tag Archives: 3D-printed

This Porsche 911 was lifted and rebuilt into a Chicago-ready urban safari car

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What happens when a Porsche 911 stops worrying about staying low to the ground? Tangent Design Group has an answer. Lift it three inches, widen its stance, add chunky off-road tires, and turn one of Stuttgart’s most recognizable sports cars into something that looks ready to escape the city rather than attack a racetrack. Built in Chicago, the Urban Safari 911 is an unusual exercise in rethinking what a modern Porsche can be.

The project began in 2019, when the Chicago-based industrial design studio decided to build a Porsche without the constraints of a conventional client brief. Tangent eventually started with a 2021 Porsche 911 Carrera 4, chosen for its all-wheel-drive platform. Finished in Porsche’s Paint-to-Sample Black Olive with a tan interior, the car already had a distinctive character before the transformation began.

Designer: Tangent Design Group

Tangent approached it like a product-development exercise. The original 992 was digitally scanned, including its bumpers, fenders, wheel wells, rocker panels, and rear engine cover. That data became the foundation for developing new components that could properly integrate with the factory body and its increasingly complex electronics. Full-scale parts were then 3D-printed and physically fitted to the car to refine proportions and attachment points before final production.

The most significant change sits underneath the body. Tangent developed a bespoke three-inch lift system while retaining the Porsche’s stock suspension architecture and avoiding software errors. The additional clearance makes room for larger off-road tires and fundamentally changes the stance of the 911. On a truck, three inches might be unremarkable; on a low-slung sports car, it transforms the proportions completely. Something similar to what Vagabund Moto did in collaboration with NINE ELEVEN OUTLAW and DakarGarage to transform a Porsche 924 S into an off-road-worthy ride.

The wheels received the same level of attention. Tangent designed them in-house and worked with Brixton Forged to produce bespoke forged aluminum wheels. Full-scale printed versions were used during development to judge how the design sat against the widened body before the final wheels were manufactured. Visually, the Urban Safari combines wide fender extensions, revised rocker panels, a custom front bull bar and a pronounced ducktail-style rear wing. Auxiliary lighting and roof-mounted adventure equipment reinforce its rally-inspired character, while the graphics package borrows from historic Porsche rally liveries without simply recreating one.

That distinction is important. Tangent’s project predates Porsche’s factory 911 Dakar, having been conceived in 2019, but it draws from the same broader history of Porsche competition cars built for surfaces far removed from a racetrack. Instead of copying a classic rally car or dressing the 992 in retro cues, Tangent has created something that feels contemporary and purpose-built.

The result is currently a one-off, but Tangent is accepting inquiries about the Urban Safari kit, leaving open the possibility that its design language could eventually find its way onto other 992-generation cars.

 

The post This Porsche 911 was lifted and rebuilt into a Chicago-ready urban safari car first appeared on Yanko Design.

3 Printed Parts That Quietly Replace the Furniture Store

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I’ve assembled enough flat-pack furniture to know the drill by heart. You order a piece online, wait for a box the size of a refrigerator, then spend an afternoon matching pre-drilled holes to cryptic diagrams, using an Allen key that will inevitably strip before you finish. What you end up with is furniture designed by someone else, sized for someone else’s room, built from a material you never chose. If it breaks or you move, most of it goes straight to the curb.

That’s the quiet frustration Japanese designer Nobutsuna Honami, who works under the name Inahono Furniture, seems to be answering with Chois. It’s not a table or a shelf or a coat rack. It’s a small family of 3D-printed joints, and that’s the whole product. You supply the rest yourself, in the form of ordinary wooden dowels you can pick up at any hardware store. Slot the dowels into the printed connectors, and you’ve got a three-legged furniture unit that can become a side table, a valet stand, or a hanging rack, depending on the lengths you cut and the angles you choose.

Designer: Nobutsuna Honami

What gets me about this approach is how little it actually manufactures. A typical furniture company ships you a finished object, or at best a kit of pre-cut parts matched to one specific design. Chois flips that math. The only engineered component is the joint itself, a small piece of plastic that would fit in your palm. Everything else, the length of the legs, the height of the table, the wood species, the finish, is left entirely up to whoever’s building it. You’re not buying a table. You’re buying the idea of a table, and finishing the sentence yourself.

I keep thinking about what this does to the economics of furniture, in a good way. Dowels are cheap, standardized, and available almost everywhere, which means the actual cost of a piece drops to whatever a handful of printed joints run plus a trip to the lumber aisle. There’s no container ship required, no oversized box, no styrofoam corners destined for a landfill. If a leg cracks or you want a taller version for a different room, you don’t throw out the whole piece. You cut a new dowel and keep the joint you already have.

I’ll admit I’m a sucker for design that treats the user as a collaborator rather than a customer. Chois doesn’t ask you to have carpentry skills, which is refreshing, since most modular furniture that promises “you build it” still expects you to own a miter saw and know what you’re doing with it. Here the precision lives entirely in the printed joint. The dowel just needs to be cut roughly to length, and the connector handles the angle and the structural logic. That’s a genuinely clever way to lower the barrier for anyone who wants custom furniture but has never built anything sturdier than an IKEA shelf.

It also fits neatly into where small-scale manufacturing seems to be heading. 3D printing gets a lot of hype for making entire objects, chairs, lamps, whole rooms, but the more interesting use case might be exactly this: printing only the part that actually benefits from precision, and letting cheap, universal materials handle the rest. A dowel is a dowel anywhere in the country. A joint that turns three of them into a stable structure is the clever bit, and it’s the only bit that needs a printer at all.

I don’t know if Chois scales beyond a niche of design-forward DIYers who already own a 3D printer or know someone who does. Access is still the real hurdle for a lot of home-fabrication ideas like this one. But as a proof of concept, it makes a genuinely honest case for furniture that adapts to your space instead of the other way around. Sometimes the most useful design decision isn’t adding more to a product. It’s figuring out the smallest possible thing you actually need to make, and trusting the rest to whatever’s already sitting in a hardware store bin.

The post 3 Printed Parts That Quietly Replace the Furniture Store first appeared on Yanko Design.

36 Apartments, Six Clusters, One Printer: Denmark Just Built Europe’s Largest 3D-Printed Village

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There’s a moment when a technology stops being a proof of concept and starts being someone’s home. That moment arrived in Holstebro, Denmark, with the completion of Skovsporet — 36 student apartments built almost entirely by a robotic printer, making it one of the largest 3D-printed housing projects in the world.

The project was commissioned by NordVestBO and delivered by 3DCP Group, with architecture from SAGA Space Architects and MS+. It sits close to VIA University College, which makes the location feel intentional rather than incidental — a student village that grew from the ground up, literally. The name Skovsporet translates loosely to “forest track,” and the design leans into that softness. Six low-rise clusters, each holding six apartments, wrap around shared courtyards and landscaped gardens. Walking paths and bicycle parking thread through the site, creating the kind of everyday rhythm that makes a place feel lived-in rather than installed.

Designer: 3DCP Group, SAGA Space Architects & MS+

At 1,650 square meters across 36 units ranging from 39 to 50 square meters, the scale is modest by development standards. But that restraint is the point. Each apartment is self-contained — full kitchen, study area, sofa lounge, bathroom with shower, and a proper double bed. It’s everything a student actually needs, without excess. The architecture doesn’t perform ambition; it delivers it quietly.

The structural walls were printed on-site using a COBOD BOD3 printer operated by a three-person team, achieving millimeter-level accuracy across the entire build. The concrete mix, D.fab, contains FUTURECEM — a lower-carbon cement developed by Aalborg Portland — reducing the environmental footprint without compromising structural integrity. The bicycle shed pushed things further, using 3D-printed elements containing zero cement, achieving an 84% reduction in CO₂ emissions compared to traditional concrete. That’s not a marketing footnote. That’s a material shift.

“We have gone from printing small prototypes to creating 36 real homes and an entire community. That is the scale where technology starts to matter as a serious tool for architecture,” – Sebastian Aristotelis, Co-Founder and Lead Architect of SAGA Space Architects, said it plainly. The technical breakthrough wasn’t a single successful print. It was repeating that success 36 times over 12 months without losing control of the outcome.

Construction is now complete, with students set to move in. 3DCP Group and SAGA are already researching new material configurations for future projects, treating Skovsporet not as a destination but as a baseline. That’s the right instinct. When a neighborhood built by robots starts to feel normal, you know the technology has finally grown up.

The post 36 Apartments, Six Clusters, One Printer: Denmark Just Built Europe’s Largest 3D-Printed Village first appeared on Yanko Design.

Someone Actually Made a Fully Playable Banjo From a Party Balloon

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I’ll be honest: the first time I saw images of Co:Creation Lab’s Balloon Banjo, I laughed. Not in a dismissive way, but in the way you laugh when something is just genuinely delightful. It’s lime green and baby blue, shaped like a proper banjo, and where a wooden drum body should be, there’s a round, inflated party balloon clamped neatly into place. It looks like something that fell out of a toy box, which is exactly the point, and also exactly why it’s brilliant.

The concept is almost absurdly simple. You download 19 3D-printable parts, assemble them into seven components, and thread nylon fishing line as the strings. The balloon slots in underneath the frame and does what balloons do: it holds air. But that air is doing real acoustic work. The taut rubber surface acts as the sounding board, vibrating when you pluck the strings and creating an actual, if quirky, musical tone. Want to change how it resonates? Just add more air or let some out. No tools, no glue, no specialist equipment. The physics are right there in your hands, adjustable in real time.

Designer: Co:Creation Lab

One of the more considered decisions in this design is how it handles assembly. There are no metal screws. Instead, the parts use 3D-printed plastic screws, sized so that a six-year-old can turn them with their fingers without stripping the threads. That small detail says a lot about Co:Creation Lab’s thinking. This wasn’t designed to impress engineers. It was designed with a specific constraint in mind: a parent should be able to build it together with their child. The build is the experience, not just the end result.

I find that kind of intentional constraint genuinely refreshing. Design often gets celebrated for how much it can do, how many features it can pack in, how complex it can become. The Balloon Banjo goes the other direction entirely. Every choice is stripped back to what’s necessary, and what’s necessary turns out to be enough. The design files are available to download, and the materials cost next to nothing beyond the printer and filament. A party balloon, some fishing line, and a little patience. That’s it.

Is it a real musical instrument? Technically, yes. Is it going to replace your ukulele or compete with an actual banjo? Absolutely not. It’s more of a homebrew science toy than a concert-ready instrument. But I don’t think that’s a limitation so much as a reframing. The Balloon Banjo doesn’t ask to be taken seriously as an instrument. It asks you to be curious. It asks you to understand why it makes sound, what changes when you add more air, and what happens if you pull the string tighter. Those are good questions for any age.

The aesthetic is also doing a lot here. That lime green frame and the pastel blue balloon aren’t accidental. The color palette is cheerful and toy-like, which signals immediately that this is meant to be played with, not displayed behind glass. Compared to the earnest seriousness that tends to follow a lot of maker culture projects, the Balloon Banjo has a lightness to it, a sense of humor about itself, that makes it more accessible rather than less.

The broader conversation around 3D printing still tends to lean utilitarian: replacement parts, custom brackets, functional objects. What Co:Creation Lab has made is a reminder that fabrication can also just be fun. That you can hand a kid a finished thing, and the fact that they helped build it is what makes it matter. Good design doesn’t always have to solve a problem. Sometimes it just has to make you want to pick it up and pluck a string. Even if the sound is a little wonky.

The post Someone Actually Made a Fully Playable Banjo From a Party Balloon first appeared on Yanko Design.

The Georgia Art Show Turning 9 Broken 3D Prints Into Music

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Every fabrication lab in the country is quietly accumulating a problem. Failed prints, test runs, leftover filament, the ghost of every prototype that didn’t make the cut. Most of it ends up in the bin. Architect Hyojin Kwon noticed this and, instead of moving on, asked a different question: what if all that discarded plastic could hold a note?

The result is Ninefold: A Distributed Resonant Field, a collaboration between Kwon’s design studio Pre- and Post-, percussionist and composer Jeremy Muller, and architect and material researcher Misri Patel. It’s currently on view at the Reeves House Visual Arts Center in Woodstock, Georgia, through September, and it is one of the more quietly radical things happening in design right now.

Designers: Hyojin Kwon × Jeremy Muller x Misri Patel

The installation is made up of nine large-scale forms, each one 3D-printed from discarded PLA collected from campus makerspaces and fabrication labs. The team shredded that waste into pellets, blended it with virgin material, and ran it through a pellet-based additive manufacturing process. The resulting objects are not identical. Some grow into tall, slender columns. Others widen into chambers or narrow toward their centers. Each carries its own texture, its own layered color variation from the mixed-batch sourcing, and its own distinct harmonic frequency. Together, they form a distributed sound field, meaning the sound is never coming from one place. It moves with you.

That last part is what makes this more than a sculpture show with a good concept. As you walk through the space, your position changes the acoustic picture entirely. Tones overlap, separate, recede. You’re not passively observing nine objects; you’re completing the field. The project draws on the thinking of composer Edgard Varèse, who called for “organized sound” as architecture, and on the spatial music systems of Iannis Xenakis and Le Corbusier. Those are not small reference points. They’re pointing at a lineage that treats space itself as a musical instrument, and Kwon, Muller, and Patel are building within that tradition using material that would have otherwise ended up as landfill.

The aspect of Ninefold that deserves real attention is how seriously it takes the material. The layered plastic isn’t hidden or smoothed over into something that looks deliberately “designed.” The texture is part of the expression. You can see the deposition, the color shifts, the history of what it was made from. The project doesn’t pretend the recycling didn’t happen; it foregrounds it. That honesty feels important at a moment when sustainability has become more of a marketing category than an actual practice.

The nine forms were also fabricated in modular sections, which means they can be transported, reconfigured, and reinstalled elsewhere. That might seem like a logistical footnote, but it matters: an installation about material longevity should probably have a long life. These objects weren’t made to be shown once and archived.

Ninefold is part of a dual exhibition that also includes Plastic Reimagined: Material Agency & Circular Design, developed with students from Georgia Tech’s graduate architecture program and curated by Carolina Cuevas. The full show runs through September at the Reeves House, and admission is free. If you’re near Woodstock, Georgia, it’s worth the trip. If you’re not, the images alone carry something worth sitting with. A lot of projects right now wear sustainability as a label. Ninefold actually earns it, and then manages to also be beautiful, which is rarer than it should be.

The post The Georgia Art Show Turning 9 Broken 3D Prints Into Music first appeared on Yanko Design.

The Adidas Sneaker That Takes 24 Hours to Print and Seconds to Want

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Footwear has always been a quiet conversation between technology and design. But every so often, a shoe comes along that forces the conversation out loud. Adidas’ Climacool Laced is that shoe for this season, and whether or not you’re a sneakerhead, it deserves your attention.

The Climacool story started in 2024, when Adidas introduced the original Climacool as a single-piece 3D-printed shoe built around one ambitious idea: a shoe “made like nothing, feels like nothing, looks like nothing.” Bold claim. Bolder execution. The original concept was all about a lattice structure that could mold to the foot while letting air move freely around it, a complete departure from how sneakers are traditionally assembled. For the FW26 season, Adidas evolved that vision with the Climacool Laced, and the update is both practical and surprisingly elegant.

Designer: Adidas

The key addition, as the name makes clear, is laces. That might sound minor, but it’s actually a thoughtful design decision. The original Climacool’s slip-on format was a statement in itself, but laces open the shoe up to more foot shapes, more wearers, and more moments. It’s the kind of iteration that shows a brand actually listening rather than just launching. The lace-up construction is also paired with updated traction and that signature ghost stripe detail, rendered in monochromatic white or contrasting black depending on the colorway.

The construction process is still the headline. Each pair of Climacool Laced shoes is built using Digital Light Synthesis (DLS) 3D printing, a process that takes approximately 24 hours per shoe. DLS is not your average desktop 3D printer situation. It’s an advanced additive manufacturing technique that uses UV light to cure liquid resin layer by layer, producing structures with far more precision and flexibility than traditional methods. The result is the Climacool’s defining characteristic: a fully 3D-printed lattice upper that reads almost like a woven textile but behaves more like an engineering diagram.

That lattice is functional. Adidas engineered it to allow 360° airflow, with strategically placed mesh ventilation zones that keep feet cool during movement. The shoe also includes arch support and integrated heel pillows, features that might get lost in all the tech conversation but matter enormously for everyday wearability. This is not a shoe designed to live in a display case, even if it could pull off that assignment very convincingly.

Visually, the Climacool Laced occupies an interesting space. It’s undeniably futuristic but somehow not alienating. The all-white or off-white colorway with contrasting black laces has a restraint to it that most tech-forward shoes abandon in favor of maximalism. It looks like something designed by someone who trusts the material to do the talking. A pink colorway has also surfaced, which adds a playful dimension and signals that Adidas is leaning into a broader audience rather than keeping this in the realm of experimental footwear for the few.

The campaign behind the shoe features Kahleah Copper and Jalen Williams, both known for their off-court style, which positions the Climacool Laced firmly in lifestyle territory rather than performance. That framing matters. Adidas is making a clear argument that 3D-printed construction isn’t a niche technology story. It’s a mainstream design choice. And with the original Climacool retailing at $140, they’re pricing it to be worn, not collected.

My take? The Climacool Laced feels like proof that fashion and manufacturing are finally having a productive conversation. Too often, 3D-printed shoes land as concepts that never quite cross the threshold into something you’d actually reach for in the morning. The Climacool Laced crosses it. The lace addition alone takes it from art object to wardrobe player, and the 24-hour production process behind each pair gives it a quiet sense of craft that fast fashion simply can’t replicate.

We’re at a point where the most interesting footwear design isn’t happening on a sketch pad. It’s happening in a digital file, cured by light, one layer at a time. The Climacool Laced makes that shift feel not just inevitable, but genuinely exciting.

The post The Adidas Sneaker That Takes 24 Hours to Print and Seconds to Want first appeared on Yanko Design.

This 3D-printed modular sneaker ditches glue for repairable design inspired by Asian craftsmanship

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Sneakers have become more advanced than ever in terms of performance and comfort, yet their construction has barely changed. Most are assembled with permanent adhesives that bind together layers of fabric, foam, rubber, and plastic into a single unit. While this creates durable footwear, it also makes repairs nearly impossible. A worn-out sole or damaged upper often signals the end of a shoe’s life, regardless of the condition of its remaining parts. Designer Daniyar Uderbekov believes there is a better way, creating a pair of sneakers that embraces repairability from the very beginning instead of treating it as an afterthought.

Called UDBR, the modular footwear improves on the earlier sneaker concept by the designer. Rather than relying on glue to hold everything together, the design borrows assembly techniques from traditional Central Asian footwear, specifically the Makhsi and Ichigi. These handcrafted shoes were designed around individual components that could be assembled, maintained, and replaced with relative ease. The idea feels surprisingly relevant in an era increasingly focused on sustainability and product longevity.

Designer: Daniyar Uderbekov

The sneaker is built around just three primary elements: a 3D-printed TPU sole, a leather sock-like inner boot, and a rope-based fastening system that locks the entire structure together. Every component has a defined purpose and can be separated without damaging the others, allowing the shoe to be fully disassembled whenever maintenance is required. Instead of discarding an entire pair because of a single worn component, users can simply replace the part that has reached the end of its lifespan.

At the core of the idea is the updated 3D-printed thermoplastic polyurethane sole, designed to deliver cushioning and flexibility comparable to conventional sneaker soles. If years of use eventually cause the sole to lose its resilience or develop cracks, it can be reproduced using recyclable TPU through 3D printing, extending the product’s usable life while reducing unnecessary waste. The approach shifts the focus from replacement to renewal, offering a practical example of circular product design.

Complementing the sole is a leather inner boot inspired by traditional footwear, wrapping the foot in a soft, sock-like structure that prioritizes comfort while maintaining a handcrafted character. Holding everything together is an intricate rope lacing system that does more than create visual appeal. It eliminates the need for adhesives entirely while allowing the wearer to tighten, loosen, or completely separate the components with minimal effort. The exposed fastening becomes both a functional engineering solution and a defining aesthetic feature.

What makes UDBR particularly compelling is how naturally it blends old and new. Advanced 3D printing supplies precision, customization, and recyclable materials, while traditional construction principles provide a blueprint for repairability that modern sneakers have largely abandoned.

The post This 3D-printed modular sneaker ditches glue for repairable design inspired by Asian craftsmanship first appeared on Yanko Design.

The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined

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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

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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

Posted on by

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.

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