France’s La Grande Motte reveals itself at the break of day, when most seaside resorts lie dormant or disheveled, to Charly Broyez and Laurent Kronental as a mirage made permanent. Through their photographic series La Cité Oasis, the two artists approach the French coastal city as a memory trace, a strangely familiar dream sculpted in concrete, palms, and Mediterranean haze. While their journey began in nearby Arles, home to the celebrated Rencontres de la Photographie festival (find designboom’s mini guide here), it was in La Grande Motte that they found a city so steeped in symbols it felt closer to fiction than place. ‘During our first visit, we were immediately charmed by the unique allure of this city. Its spectacular architecture seemed to transport us to a sci-fi setting,’ share the photographers.

Le Poséidon – Le Couchant de La Grande Motte – 2019 | all images © Charly Broyez and Laurent Kronental

La Cité Oasis features jean balladur’s seaside modern buildings

La Grande Motte, a seaside resort in southern France, was built during the economic boom that followed World War II, an era known in France as Les Trente Glorieuses (the Glorious Thirty). In the 1960s, the French government launched an ambitious plan called Mission Racine to develop the Mediterranean coast of the country, a strategic move to encourage French people to holiday at home instead of heading to Spain.

Mies van der Rohe-trained architect and urban planner Jean Balladur was given the task of designing La Grande Motte from the ground up. His vision was to create a modern paradise by the sea, inspired by everything from Mayan pyramids and Brutalist architecture to the optimistic spirit of modernism. Balladur imagined a city filled with striking geometric buildings, wrapped in lush greenery. ‘Jean Balladur envisioned “rebuilding a paradise, overrun by greenery,”‘ note Paris-based photographers Charly Broyez and Laurent Kronental. The result is a combination of pyramids, loggias, portholes, bishop’s hats, and flowing concrete forms.

Le Temple du Soleil & Les Voiles Blanches – Le Couchant de La Grande Motte – 2020

A Four-Year Study Through Large-Format Film

The artists return to the site repeatedly over four years, documenting its seasons and subtleties with a large-format 4×5″ film camera. ‘Working with large-format film encourages us to anticipate the construction of our images like paintings,’ they comment. Their analog approach becomes a form of attunement – to light, atmosphere, and local rhythms. ‘The film camera is a wonderful tool that demands rigor and patience. It compels us to slow down, make choices, and contemplate,’ the photographers add.  In their dreamlike series, Balladur’s modernist geometry seems to soften under Mediterranean haze, and architecture reveals its lyrical potential.

Le Babylone II – Le Levant de La Grande Motte – 2020

A Blueprint for Climate-Adaptive Cities

Beyond the bold silhouettes of concrete structures, La Cité Oasis draws attention to the ecological foresight of the project. ‘La Grande Motte is a true Oasis City, where immersion in nature and the well-being of its inhabitants are at the heart of its urban philosophy,’ Charly Broyez and Laurent Kronental 

Since it was first developed, more than 50,000 trees have been planted, and nearly 70% of the city is now covered in greenery. Intertwining nature and the built environment, with buildings nestled among trees, arranged in layers, and sheltered from coastal winds, was ahead of its time. In many ways, it predicted the sustainable design ideas that cities around the world are only now beginning to adopt. ‘Jean Balladur said, ”I attempted to compensate for this lack and to substitute symbolic backdrops for historical deficits… The walker or resident then plays hide-and-seek with the mythical underpinnings hidden within,”‘ reflect the photographer duo.

Modénature – Palomino – Le Ponant de La Grande Motte – 2020

Personal Histories Shape a Shared Vision

The photographers see in Balladur’s city a living utopia, inhabited, symbolic, and evolving. For Kronental, who previously explored the poetic decay of postwar housing estates in the Parisian banlieues, La Grande Motte offers a different kind of promise: ‘Photographing the seaside resort of La Grande Motte came naturally as a logical continuation of my work on dreamed cities, realized and inhabited utopias,’ he recalls. For Broyez, whose earlier series explored abandoned structures overtaken by nature, the garden city becomes a site of symbiosis. ‘The geometric forms of the buildings, inspired by both nature and ancient civilizations, integrate into this garden city… giving the city the appearance of an oasis,’ he reveals.

Broyez and Kronental’s series highlights the vision behind La Grande Motte, a city often seen as an architectural curiosity. ‘This series, beyond its aesthetic pursuit, invites us to see La Grande Motte as a living space and a crystallization of sensations… a symbol of a dreamer’s soul,’ the duo state.

Point Zéro II – Quartier du point Zéro de La Grande Motte – 2019 Architect – Jean Balladur

Eglise Saint-Augustin I – Le Levant La Grande Motte – 2019

Boîtes aux lettres Oiseau – Résidence du soleil – Le Couchant de La Grande Motte – 2020

Bâtiment Boule le Levant de La Grande Motte – 2019

La Grande Pyramide – Quartier du Port de La Grande Motte – 2020

Modénature – Le Delta – Le Levant de La Grande Motte – 2021 Architect – Jean Balladur

Le Poséidon – Le Couchant de La Grande Motte – 2019

Le Fidji – Quartier du port de La Grande Motte – 2020

Hall d’entrée de l’Eden – La Grande Motte – 2019

Fenêtre du Port-Ponant – Le Levant de La Grande Motte – 2020

Modénature sur le toit du Poséidon – Le Couchant de La Grande Motte – 2019

project info:

name: La Cité Oasis

architect: Jean Balladur

photographers: Charly Broyez | @charly.broyez & Laurent Kronental | @laurentkronental

location: La Grande Motte, Occitanie, France

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Reactive bioluminescent algae lights up the haute couture collection and show of Iris van Herpen in Paris. Co-crafted by biodesigner Christopher Bellamy of Bio Crafted, there are 125 million bioluminescent algae embedded into the dress, showcased by the maison during the Paris Haute Couture Week on July 7th, 2025. In an interview with designboom, the biodesigner tells us that the material is an evolution of his previous project, Lucid Life | Marama Ora. ‘It’s a process I initially developed to encapsulate bioluminescent microalgae in collaboration with indigenous artists and scientists in French Polynesia,’ he shares with us. ‘A bespoke 35-step process was developed, which encapsulates the algae in a nutrient gel and a protective coating and allows them to live for many months. This was possible thanks to an artist residency at the University of Amsterdam in the Soft Matters Group.’

Once encapsulated, the algae only require regular sunlight to photosynthesize and maintain their circadian rhythm. The biomaterial can live for many months, even during hot weather conditions, and Chris Bellamy says that he also has samples that have been alive for more than a year. ‘However, as this new material is so experimental, we are still working to understand what exactly is going on,’ he explains to us. ‘To help keep the algae in perfect condition for the show, a bespoke full-size climate chamber was developed for the garment so that it can be exhibited in different locations and maintain its circadian rhythm.’ For the biodesigner and maison, developing the algae dress is a collaborative effort, as they need to keep the microorganisms alive through two heatwaves and while transporting them to Paris for the Iris van Herpen show for the haute couture.

all images courtesy of Chris Bellamy of Bio Crafted, unless stated otherwise

Living microorganisms encapsulated in nutrient gel

The collaboration between Iris van Herpen and Chris Bellamy of Bio Crafted allows the two to tap into the capabilities of living microorganisms such as algae. The biomaterial is reactive too; as the wearer moves, the dress glows gently, emitting a bluish glow that lights up in the dark. The maison and biodesigner say that the bioluminescent algae are placed in seawater and then encapsulated inside a nutrient gel that keeps them alive for a long time. The dress with bioluminescent algae forms part of the collection Sympoiesis, the recent series from Iris van Herpen shown in Paris Haute Couture Week. As the model walks, wearing Iris van Herpen’s algae dress co-created with Christopher Bellamy, the set design also glows in the background through the light sculptures by artist Nick Verstand. These artworks, called biospheric, add more light to the show, making the bioluminescent algae embedded into the Iris van Herpen dress glow even brighter. 

‘The vision to have a fully living garment that illuminated while on the runway in Paris was incredibly ambitious. On top of that, the design had to match the level of intricacy and detail expected with Iris’ work. To achieve this, we had to develop an entirely new process to encapsulate and form the algae,’ Chris Bellamy shares with designboom. It took them and the design team around four months of biotechnological process to develop the dress and match its detail and aesthetics to the rest of the Sympoiesis collection, but the biodesigner tells us that he only had a breakthrough finishing the illuminating material just 24 hours before the deadline. The project was only possible to develop in person, and thanks to an artist residency at the University of Amsterdam in the Biophysics and Soft Matters research group, completing the Iris van Herpen algae dress was realized in time for the show.

reactive bioluminescent algae lights up the haute couture dress of Iris van Herpen in Paris

refrigerated trucks to keep the algae dress alive

Because of the time restrictions, Chris Bellamy and Iris van Herpen had to rely on their intuition and gut feeling in developing the algae dress, instead of approaching it in a scientific manner. Luckily, the biodesigner had been knee-deep into the research for two years then, so he was already backed up by personal experiences with the living microorganisms. ‘The final process was incredibly complex, with 35 steps, and required very specific materials, formulations, and techniques. The final challenge was keeping the dress alive while traveling between countries for the show and in the chaos of a show environment,’ he explains to designboom.

To make this happen, the Iris van Herpen team was involved in a logistical trope, renting refrigerated trucks and putting wireless humidity alarms in place that worked under red light to keep the algae dress alive and ready to glow in the dark during the show. ‘Iris was the perfect collaborator, pushing and challenging the design but also learning and adapting as we understood more about the living organism and their behaviors,’ says Chris Bellamy. Back in 2024, the biodesigner worked on and researched the bioluminescent microalgae for just about over nine months. The same algae now flows through the Sympoiesis dress of Iris van Herpen during the Paris Haute Couture Week, which runs between July 7th and 10th, 2025, following the signature coral-inspired designs of the fashion designer.

for the dress, a 35-step process was developed, which encapsulates the algae in a nutrient gel

a protective coating allows the algae to live and glow for many months

detailed view of the dress

once encapsulated, the algae only require regular sunlight to photosynthesize

the algae dress showcased during Iris van Herpen’s show in Paris | image courtesy of Iris van Herpen

project info:

name: Sympoiesis

maison: Iris van Herpen | @irisvanherpen

biodesigner: Christopher Bellamy of Bio Crafted | @bio.crafted

light artist: Nick Verstand | @nickverstand

event: Paris Haute Couture Week

dates: July 7th to 10th, 2025

The post reactive bioluminescent algae illuminate iris van herpen’s haute couture show in paris appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

Time Warp draws design inspiration from ice caves, plant cells, and hexagons for the stage designs inside the techno music festival. An annual event since 1994, the event takes place in different cities, including Madrid (October 10th and 11th, 2025); Mannheim, the founding place (November 7th and 8th, as well as March 21st), and New York City (November 21st and 22nd, 2025). In an interview with designboom, Time Warp festival’s technical director Anatol Fried says that the design team wants the audience to feel fully surrounded by the stage settings and not just by the techno music. ‘It was natural for us to try to surround people with light and scenography along with the music,’ he tells designboom. There are five stages in the Time Warp techno music festival, and instead of going traditional by adding lights on the ceiling, the team spread more than 200 lights around the floor, audiences, and performers, lighting them up from all directions. ‘For us, it somehow worked,’ adds Anatol Fried.

Across the five stages, the theme of nature comes through, but Anatol Fried sees the word more as what everyone can see every day rather than just only greenery. He worked with different designers per stage inside the Time Warp techno music festival, all of which followed a fluid brief on nature. Take The Cells designed by Greg Sullivan and The LED Cells by Valentin Lüdicke and Anatol Fried. The former looks like a simplified visualization of plant cells, while the former mimics the lines and visuals of a leaf under a microscope. ‘These stage designs’ impact is the volume they add to the room. The sheer amount of surface you can play on with lights, and the contrasts you can generate with lights and shadows due to the 3D elements, is stunning. Standing underneath it, the audience can feel what I meant before about being surrounded by an experience,’ Anatol Fried shares with designboom.

The Cells | all images courtesy of Time Warp | photos by Marko Edge, unless stated otherwise

Caves and meteors as artistic influences for the spaces

Natural phenomena also appear as a theme that runs through the stage designs in the Time Warp techno music festival. Inside The Meteors, an ensemble of rock-looking fixtures hangs above the audience as they party, glistening as the hundreds of lights shine their beams on them. The Cave, designed by Valentin Lüdicke, resembles an ice cave through a series of suspended semi-translucent white cloths. ‘The idea here was to shape a room and create the perspective you have looking into an ice cave, but it also offers perspectives from positions other than the perfect angle,’ says Anatol Fried. Because of this undulating design, the stage design moves as the breeze comes in.

Valentin Lüdicke has created a second version of this space in the Time Warp techno music festival, rightfully naming it The Cave 2.0. Here, the idea has slightly changed, while still following the brief on nature. Above the audience are seemingly singular panels depicting a wavy form. When the light shines on it, the sculpture, made of a black material typically used to block out light in the agricultural industry, comes alive, appearing to move through the lights. For the technical director, it feels as if the audience were looking up in a forest and seeing the sky through trees and leaves. ‘The impact is the strong contrast between the upper lit side of the silver fabric and the pitch-black lower side that doesn’t catch any light,’ Anatol Fried explains to designboom. ‘With the huge amount of LED lights above it, it almost looks like the room moves.’

The Cells resemble a honeycomb structure

Replicating geometry, space and nature in music festival

In the other rooms within the Time Warp techno music festival, Anatol Fried has (co-)designed the spaces, from Chaos, where the style resembles patterns of strobe lights, to Strings, a wire installation he created with Valentin Lüdicke, inspired by the ideas of mathematics, geometry, even-sided triangles, and hexagons. ‘We are currently working on a design called Einheitskreis, which will hopefully come to life soon,’ the technical director shares with designboom. Instead of starting with the materials, the team leads the stage designs in the Time Warp techno music festival with an inspiration, which is nature in this case. 

That is the underlying, connecting theme between the spaces, even if they look distinctive from each other. ‘These stage designs were all inspired by some looks or details we found outside the event industry – like nature, space geometry, or mathematics – that we tried to replicate and put inside a venue. If you look up in a forest on a sunny day, you can see a strong contrast between sky and leaves. That’s basically the effect of ‘The Cave 2.0’, for example, so when we knew the look we were seeking, we started looking for a material that suited the look, instead of the other way around,’ says Anatol Fried. 

The Meteors | photo by GuilleGS

At times, designing the stages in the Time Warp techno music festival is a bit challenging, and Anatol Fried gives The Cells as an example. Here, the ceiling resembles a honeycomb structure, lighting up in patterns through the LED strips. Instead of the normal LED lights, the design team uses a series of tailored aluminum ones. The idea, as the technical director tells us, is to emit light in two directions. ‘An indirect source of light to the structure above and the direct source of light visible from below,’ he adds. ‘This was not available on the market, and therefore we produced an aluminum profile that had space for three LED light sources and also had the cord edge profile in place.’ 

This stage may be the most complex they’ve done so far since manufacturing the structure above the LED lights had to come from 700 differently shaped pieces of blackout fabric. But it was all worth it in the end because the audiences attending the Time Warp techno music festival feel the music while experiencing the performative stage designs instead of these two being separate. At the moment, visitors who want to see these spaces can first-hand experience them in Madrid (October 10th and 11th, 2025); Mannheim, (November 7th and 8th, as well as March 21st), and New York City (November 21st and 22nd, 2025).

a cluster of rock-looking sculptures suspend above the audience

Optics stage design

swirling patterns sit on the ceiling in this set design

Glass Dome

the Glass Dome has transparent windows above the visitors

The Cave 2.0

the sculpture is made of a black material used to block out light in the agricultural industry

project info:

name: Time Warp | @time_warp_official

technical director: Anatol Fried 

designers: Anatol Fried, Valentin Lüdicke, Greg Sullivan | @voll_lustig_licht

upcoming dates: Madrid (October 10th and 11th, 2025); Mannheim, (November 7th and 8th, as well as March 21st), and New York City (November 21st and 22nd, 2025)

photography: Marko Edge, Tyler Allix, GuilleGS | @marko_edge, @tylerallix

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To celebrate the 25th anniversary of Telekom Electronic Beats and Berlin-based media and fashion company 032c, the two have joined forces to present ‘All is Sound. All is Transformation,’ a pop-up installation by artist and designer Harry Nuriev of Crosby Studios. On view from July 1–8, 2025 at 032c Workshop in Berlin, the work reflects on the materiality of music through a sculptural intervention that blurs the lines between archive, club culture, and social sculpture.

At the core of Nuriev’s installation is a stainless steel structure, displaying sequentially arranged CDs — a nod to the now-obsolete format and the spaces where music was once physically discovered. A CD player and repurposed car speakers are integrated into the work, activating it as a listening station. Complementing the installation, a limited capsule collection designed by 032c Creative Director Maria Koch further extends the project’s themes. designboom was invited to join Harry Nuriev and Maria Koch for a listening session inside the installation, where we talked about the depth of curated listening and how the energy of rave culture continues to shape their creative work.

images by Alejandro Arretureta (@alexberlinetta), unless stated otherwise | above and banner © designboom

IN CONSERVATION WITH HARRY NURIEV AND MARIA KOCH

designboom (DB): This installation celebrates the 25th anniversary of Telekom Electronic Beats and 032c. Maria, could you take us back to the beginning of 032c and how it evolved into the brand it is today?

Maria Koch (MK): 032c began as a gallery space my husband opened with friends. To promote what was meant to be a digital magazine, he decided to print its first issue — and that’s how 032c was born. When we met, we started working together and launched the simplest thing you could imagine: a bootleg T-shirt for a Sade concert. The shirt became a huge success — even Sade’s team reached out because they loved it. That moment set everything in motion and brought us to where we are now.

DB: Harry, could you tell us about your connection to the brand, and then walk us through the concept and key elements of this installation, giving us insight into what visitors are about to experience?

Harry Nuriev (HN): 032c was always my, I would say, ‘coffee table book’ — my favorite magazine for many reasons, but mainly because it was ahead of the curve. It was the first magazine that didn’t just publish content but built a real community around itself, and that idea of community has always been central to my work.

So this installation is a three-way collaboration between Electronic Beats, 032c, and myself. We’ve worked together before, and I hope it won’t be the last time. The concept here is very simple: I wanted to create a space where people feel compelled to put their phones down. The installation turns the table into a physical desktop — a literal playlist — where visitors can pick up a CD and play it.

Harry Nuriev designs pop-up installation for Telekom Electronic Beats and 032c collection launch

DB: The installation prominently features CDs, a medium that feels very nostalgic. In an age dominated by digital music, what is your core intention behind highlighting this “nearly obsolete medium,” and how does it speak to the concept of transformation and the curated experience?

HN: The beauty of curating a CD library today lies in the limitations. You’re working with an existing archive, and that restricts your options — but in a way that’s freeing. It reconnects you with original, culture-defining music. Since the selection reflects a specific era and place — like Berlin, in this case — it forces a kind of localized curation. You don’t have unlimited access like you would on your phone. And that’s the interesting part: we’ve come full circle to appreciating the value of being limited.

MK: What’s fascinating is that, unlike the endless options on your iPhone, this physical selection really makes you focus. Even if you want to listen to something else, you can’t — so you end up going deeper into what’s available. You hear tracks again, discover new layers, and engage more thoughtfully. That’s the strength of this kind of curation: it’s slower, more intentional, and opens you up to a completely different experience. It’s not fast or flashy — and that’s exactly what makes it so compelling.

featuring repurposed car speakers

DB: Maria, when you first reached out to Harry, what was it about his artistic vision and approach that made you feel he was the perfect artist to create this installation for 032c x Electronic Beats?

MK: There were a few reasons I reached out to Harry. The first was when I saw this stainless steel restaurant installation he designed in Paris — with everything from the plates to the dishwasher setup made from stainless steel. I was so impressed, I immediately wanted to collaborate with him on my first project. Timing didn’t work out then because I contacted him too late, but that was the initial connection. Since then, we’ve worked together on other things. For this project, the link came through Electronic Beats, who knew we already had a creative relationship.

DB: Harry, on your side, what specifically attracted you to this opportunity, and how did their vision resonate with your own creative interests?

HN: Where do I even start? The magazine is a cultural icon, and Maria’s creative and fashion direction constantly pushes my boundaries. I’ve known about the 032c family for a long time and when Maria calls, you just don’t say no.

a close-up look at the stainless steel sculpture showcasing a curated selection of CDs

DB: Maria, can you tell us about the inspiration behind the capsule collection, and how does it tie together with the theme of sound and transformation that runs through this anniversary project?

MK: The collection is a capsule of just three pieces — a cap, a bag, and a shirt. The idea is simple but deeply emotional for me. I was a real rave kid and partied hard, especially close to the music of The Prodigy. There’s one song, “No Good,” with a music video that stuck with me. Back then, music videos were everything — I hardly listened to the radio and watched videos all day. In this one, the band walks through a chalky, dusty bunker, mixing punk outfits with some bling. The energy was incredible. I wanted to capture that feeling, that chalky, dusty vibe, as a visual memory on the garments — chalk on the bag, on the cap, on the shirt. When we shared this with Harry, he immediately connected with the idea and brought The Prodigy’s spirit to life in the design.

DB: Harry, Maria mentioned she was a “classic rave kid.” Do you share the same passion for rave culture or do you find a similar resonance with specific music genres that influence your work?

HN: Absolutely. I’m not really into vinyl — it’s a cool format, but it wasn’t part of my personal experience growing up. That was more my parents’ thing. For me, CDs have the same role as vinyl does for others. I really want to keep that in my life. Honestly, I was just thinking I want to recreate the same table setup at home, invite my friends over, and listen to music together — even if it’s on some crappy car speakers that actually sound pretty good.

MK: Techno was really the last truly innovative youth culture in music. I remember it feeling so brave, wild, and somewhat untamed. It wasn’t dangerous, but it was like these hidden clubs where we all went. Even though my parents were open-minded and smart, they couldn’t really understand what we were into or what we were listening to. I think that energy of being different, being out of reach from the conventional — that’s what made that electronic scene so beautiful to me back then.

capsule collection designed by 032c, Maria Koch

DB: What is the most important message or feeling you hope visitors take away from stepping into this experience?

NH: Put your phone down. 

MK:  I would just say the same — put your phone down and give yourself the chance to listen again, and again, to a song. Honestly, I still do this. I love listening to a favorite track 10 or 12 times a day. Everyone around me gets annoyed, but I just want to be fully immersed. It’s intense. Even if it’s like elevator music, then I discover something new — another drum, another layer, another scenario.

All is Sound. All is Transformation – Maria Koch and Harry Nuriev | image © designboom

the curated CD library reflects the spirit of Berlin’s club culture and musical archives

a limited-time installation combining club culture, archives, and design

project info: 

name: All is Sound. All is Transformation

artist: Harry Nuriev | @harrynuriev

collaborators: 032c | @032c and Telekom Electronic Beats | @electronicbeats 

dates: July 01-08, 2025

opening hours: 11:00–19:00

location: 032c Workshop, Berlin, Germany

The post harry nuriev remixes CDs, rave culture and steel into a pop-up sound installation in berlin appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

The IED Istituto Europeo di Design Master program in Social Ecological Design emerges as a vital alternative to design education, aiming to confront the complex challenges of our time. For Michael Kaethler, coordinator of the program, the traditional design curriculum, often shaped by market trends or conventional perspectives, does not contribute enough to the urgent transformation needed to address today’s crises. From accelerating climate change and biodiversity loss to widening social inequalities and the creeping rise of authoritarianism, the challenges are immense and interconnected. 

Despite its problem-solving prowess, academic design programs sometimes risk lacking the ability to adapt to new approaches required for socio-ecological change. This critical gap is what the Social Ecological Design program aims to fill as Michael Kaethler revealed in an exclusive interview with designboom. The program is built on the idea that education itself should ‘assist in unlearning the status quo,’ Michael Kaethler tells designboom, pushing for new forms of knowledge through emancipation, experimentation, and breaking down old structures.

‘We don’t need more education but rather, we need different education,’ Kaethler continues. ‘We need alternative modes of building and sharing knowledge in order to produce the forms of meaningful knowledge that can engage with these crises.’

Co-design Workshop at C.E.P. by Marginal Studio (Francesca Gattello, Zeno Franchini), part of the project “Riconnessioni: percorsi di riattivazione della memoria urbana per riportare la periferia al centro”, promoted by Sguardi Urbani, funded by Direzione Generale Creatività Contemporanea e Rigenerazione Urbana MIBACT, Palermo, 2020. Photo by Francesca Gattello

IED MASTER PROGRAM IN SOCIAL ECOLOGICAL DESIGN

Within a 16-month period, the IED in Torino offers a pioneering Master’s program in Social Ecological Design: Regenerative Practices for Everyday Life. As coordinator of the program, Michael Kaethler — a sociologist of design with a background in social anthropology and human rights research — leverages his expertise to root the curriculum in a profound understanding of societal change and human agency. The course positions itself as a critical response to the complex challenges of our time, offering a deep dive into fostering connections between humans, communities, and ecosystems. It’s designed to equip a new generation of designers with the tools to actively engage in meaningful social and ecological transformation.

‘We study transitions and how design can provide important levers for change. We explore the importance of creativity in opening up new forms of relations, new forms of understanding and communicating and ultimately how it can offer generative action towards meaningful social ecological transformation. It’s not just about knowledge—it’s about recovering a sense of agency,’ explains the program’s coordinator.

Co-design Workshop at C.E.P. by Marginal Studio (Francesca Gattello, Zeno Franchini), part of the project “Riconnessioni: percorsi di riattivazione della memoria urbana per riportare la periferia al centro”, promoted by Sguardi Urbani, funded by Direzione Generale Creatività Contemporanea e Rigenerazione Urbana MIBACT, Palermo, 2020. Photo by Francesca Gattello

CULTIVATING THE NEXT GENERATION OF DESIGNERS

The program’s core philosophy centers on a radical re-evaluation of design’s role, seeking to restore fundamental capabilities for ideological and societal engagement. This approach challenges the comfortable notion of design as purely aesthetic or commercially driven, repositioning it as a critical tool for societal survival. ‘It feels absurd to be designing new chairs or lamps when our house is on fire,’ he states, emphasizing that the overlapping social, ecological, and economic crises are ‘real design problems!’ This sentiment is rooted in a historical critique. Kaethler notes that after the Cold War, design largely ‘favoured irony over ideological engagement, swapping grand social visions for playful contradictions.’ This shift, he argues, turned design into a mere service provider for the highest bidders.

The IED program directly counters this by bringing back generative critique – a design practice that doesn’t just analyze problems from the sidelines, but actively makes, intervenes, and creates tangible alternatives. ‘It is not simply a question of adding “criticality” to design but rather building up a culture of design that is essentially reflective in its engagement with the world and these reflections include questioning fundamental tenets such as values and orientations.’  

Final public event presenting the results of the Co-design Workshop at C.E.P. by Marginal Studio (Francesca Gattello, Zeno Franchini), part of the project “Riconnessioni: percorsi di riattivazione della memoria urbana per riportare la periferia al centro”, promoted by Sguardi Urbani, funded by Direzione Generale Creatività Contemporanea e Rigenerazione Urbana MIBACT, Palermo, 2020. Photo by Francesca Gattello

To achieve this, the curriculum employs its unique ‘OUT THERE’ methodology, pulling students out of traditional classrooms and into immersive fieldwork across diverse Italian regions, including the off-grid Alps, Tuscany, and Sicily. This direct engagement with communities and ecosystems fosters a versatile skill set, spanning crucial areas like biomimicry, multispecies thinking, cross-cultural communication, cultural ethnography, creative activism, systems analysis, and inclusive design. Students work closely with local stakeholders, craftspeople, experts, and peers, applying principles of social and ecological design through analysis, interpretation, and practical application. The program’s structure guides them through three distinct phases: exploring ‘OUT-of-the-box’ ideas in the first trimester, immersing themselves ‘OUT in the field’ and ‘OUT of their comfort zone’ in the second, and finally challenging them to be ‘OUT on their own’ in the third trimester.

‘A big part of our vision is that learning is driven and directed by the student’s own ambitions and interests, which we nourish through one-on-one mentoring as well as regular moments of co-reflection and dialogue. We pair this with an intensive program of lectures, workshops and immersive fieldwork that pushes students to tackle difficult subjects and contexts beyond superficiality. Nothing inspires one to learn quicker than working in real life contexts,’ Kaethler emphasizes. ‘When design education becomes rooted in the real world, design becomes a fundamental human act of shaping one’s world to express one’s needs—tangible or intangible. This is where design can have a positive impact.’

students engage directly with communities and ecosystems

Graduates are prepared for a professional landscape in constant flux, equipped with dynamism, transversal skills, and a confidence that matches competence. Beyond the intensive coursework, IED supports students with practical experiences like internships and leverages its extensive network of partnerships and alumni to ensure they are truly career-ready for diverse and impactful roles.

‘It sounds cliché but ambition and openness are more important than any specific experiences. Overall, we believe in balancing intellectual knowledge with practical knowledge and this means being willing to challenge oneself with theory in the morning and in the afternoon learning new maker-skills… and in the evening cooking dinner with members of the local community.’

collaborative workshops cultivate a versatile skill set

Looking ahead, Michael Kaethler envisions the program fostering a strong alumni community that continues to support collective engagement with critical social and ecological issues. His ambition extends beyond the IED, aiming to inspire a broader paradigm shift in design education globally. 

‘More broadly, I hope we inspire other design institutions to embrace an emancipatory, embedded, and autonomous approach to design education,’ Michael Kaethler concludes. ‘The world needs it.’

project info:

course: Social Ecological Design

organization: Istituto Europeo di Design (IED) | @ied_offical

program coordinator: Michael Kaethler

The post ‘the world needs it’: michael kaethler on IED’s social ecological design for urgent change appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives transforms the National Museum of Contemporary Art (EMST) in Athens into a stage for over 60 international artists grappling with one of the most urgent ethical questions of our time: how do we live with, and not over, animals? 

Running until January 7th, 2026, the museum-wide show spans five floors, combining visual art, science, philosophy, and activism to challenge speciesism and advocate for animal rights, sentience, and voice. ‘At its core, Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives is an attempt to shift our gaze from a purely anthropocentric worldview to one that recognises the rights, agency, and suffering of non-human beings.’ Katerina Gregos, curator of the exhibition and EMST’s creative director, explains, speaking with designboom. Inspired by John Berger’s seminal 1980 essay, Why Look at Animals? underscores the notion of ‘listening beyond language.’ It implicitly strives to ‘speak for those who have no voice,’ as the curator frames it, a driving force that shaped the entire process.

from left to right: Mark Dion, Men and Game, 1998. Courtesy of the artist and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York, Los Angeles | Rossella Biscotti, Clara, 2016. Courtesy of the artist | all installation view images by Paris Tavitian, unless stated otherwise

listening beyond language: art as a site for interspecies empathy

The curatorial framework by the art historian Katerina Gregos pierces through the anthropocentric lens that has rendered animals invisible, both culturally and ecologically. ‘I’ve always felt the subject of animal rights and well–being to be an urgent one, and was puzzled how the so-called ‘art world’ did not consider it worthy of attention until very recently,’ she shares with designboom. Far from romanticising nature, the show boldly confronts the systems that exploit animal life: industrial farming, vivisection, the exotic pet trade, hunting, and entertainment. Works on view make visible the brutal disconnections of modernity, where animals have been relegated from myth, companion, and co-inhabitant to product and spectacle. Berger’s claim that animals have ‘disappeared’ from daily life is literal here – their erasure becomes the focal point of critical reflection and creative resistance.

While rooted in ethics, Why Look at Animals? also delves into science, drawing on neuroethology and animal studies to dismantle outdated ideas like Descartes’ bête-machine, the animal as automaton. ‘I’ve long been concerned with questions of injustice and inequality, particularly within the human sphere,’ Gregos tells us, adding that she ‘realised early on that they are sentient, intelligent beings who are disadvantaged in our world because they do not possess speech.’ Visitors are prompted to engage with animals as complex beings with emotional lives, intelligence, and social structures that may differ from human norms but are no less profound. Texts by thinkers like Peter Singer, Martha Nussbaum, and Tom Regan shape the theoretical spine of the exhibition, bringing together philosophical, legal, and environmental dimensions of animal advocacy. ‘This systemic disconnection from the lives and deaths of animals mirrors a broader ethical and ecological rupture, one that the exhibition at EMST seeks to confront,’ insists Gregos. In a world where animals are often framed as voiceless, this show turns up the volume, demanding a reconfiguration of how we think and live. Dive into our in-depth discussion with Katerina Gregos below.

Nikos Tranos, Terrain (bridle for horses), 2024. courtesy of the artist and Zoumboulakis Galleries, Athens | Jonas Staal, Exo-Ecologies, 2023. Commissioned by Power Station of Art l 14th Shanghai Biennale Cosmos Cinema, Shanghai. Courtesy of the artist

INTERVIEW WITH KATERINA GREGOS

designboom (DB): How did John Berger’s 1980 essay shape your vision for this exhibition? Are there particular passages or ideas from the text that served as a curatorial compass? 

Katerina Gregos (KG): The title of the exhibition is drawn directly from John Berger’s seminal 1980 essay Why Look at Animals?, which was both a starting point and a conceptual anchor for the project. Berger’s reflections on the estrangement of humans from animals resonated deeply with me and informed my curatorial explorations. He begins his essay by highlighting the important role that animals played in human societies; ‘The animals first entered the human imagination as messengers and promises’ he writes, thus acknowledging the deep symbolic and spiritual role animals once played in human cultures. However, he goes on to point out a sea change in the relationship between humans and animals during modernity, highlighting the fact that ‘In the last two centuries, animals have gradually disappeared.’ This is a reference not only to extinction or physical absence but to their cultural and symbolic disappearance from human life. ‘Everywhere animals disappear’ he emphasizes, ‘In zoos they constitute the living monument to their own disappearance.’ This is a striking statement on how animals have been marginalized and isolated in modern society, especially through artificial settings like zoos or circuses where they have been reduced to a spectacle or commodity – confined to manmade spaces, such as theme parks, factory farms, and, ultimately, to the abstraction of the supermarket shelf.

This systemic disconnection from the lives and deaths of animals mirrors a broader ethical and ecological rupture, one that the exhibition at EMST seeks to confront. Berger’s idea that animals have ‘lost their centrality’ in the human imagination helped shape the curatorial vision, which does not aim to romanticise animals or nature, but rather to challenge the mechanisms – economic, cultural, and visual – through which non-human lives have been rendered invisible, disposable, or instrumentalised. The book serves as the basis for the exhibition’s ethico-philosophical approach to non-human lives, and its plea for a consideration of animal rights. It is in this spirit that Why Look at Animals? becomes not only a question, but a provocation, one that urges viewers to reconsider how we see, relate to, and live with other species.

front to back: Maarten Vanden Eynde Homo stupidus stupidus, 2008. Private collection, Slovenia | Nabil Boutros, Celebrities / Ovine Condition, 2014. Courtesy of the artist

DB: What was the most challenging aspect of curating an exhibition that seeks to raise awareness and advocate for the moral and legal consideration of non-human life?

KG: One of the most challenging aspects was finding the right balance between raising awareness and fostering critical reflection – without falling into didacticism or moralising or the trappings of simplistic agit-prop art. Art is not activism in the traditional sense; its strength lies in its ability to open up space for nuanced thinking, emotional engagement, and deeper contemplation. But when dealing with such an urgent and ethically charged subject as the rights of non-human life, the line between aesthetics, advocacy, and information is a delicate one. Another challenge was how to sensitively represent the often invisible or marginalised suffering of animals, especially those not typically granted empathy – such as lab animals, factory-farmed creatures, or those displaced by environmental destruction. How do you visualise their realities without sensationalising or exploiting their pain? How do you speak for those who have no voice? These were questions I constantly grappled with. That is why there are no taxidermied animals in the exhibition, or scenes of graphic violence.

On a practical level, assembling a constellation of works that reflected a diversity of voices, geographies, and cultural understandings of human-animal relationships was vital. It was important to resist a Western-centric narrative and instead draw attention to plural worldviews – particularly Indigenous, postcolonial, or non-Western perspectives – that often hold a much more holistic understanding of interspecies coexistence. Ultimately, the challenge was to curate an exhibition that doesn’t offer easy answers, but rather provokes questions – about ethics, responsibility, and our place in the wider web of life. I hope that Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives can contribute to a broader shift in consciousness and policy, while also encouraging a personal reckoning about the assumptions we have.

front to back: Maarten Vanden Eynde Homo stupidus stupidus, 2008. Private collection, Slovenia | Nabil Boutros, Celebrities / Ovine Condition, 2014. Courtesy of the artist

DB: How does the exhibition address our uneven empathy toward animals, especially those typically overlooked or excluded?

KG: The exhibition aims to challenge the hierarchy of empathy that governs our relationships with non-human animals – where certain species are cherished, while others are ignored, commodified, or exploited without a second thought. At its core is the recognition that all forms of life are interconnected, and that our survival is deeply dependent on the well-being of the ecosystems and species with whom we share this planet. Despite having histories marked by colonialism, fascism, and struggles for independence – oppressions that should have sensitised us to injustice – we continue to uphold a deeply anthropocentric worldview. We presume human superiority over other species, often failing to acknowledge the moral and ecological consequences of that belief. This mindset not only leads to the suffering of non-human lives but positions us as one of the few species capable of destroying its own habitat.

Through Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives, I hope to provoke a deeper reflection on these contradictions, and encourage viewers to reconsider the ways in which empathy is selectively applied. By bringing to light the lives and perspectives of animals we rarely think about – from those used in testing or factory farming to those displaced by extractivist practices – the exhibition seeks to foster a more just and inclusive understanding of coexistence. Empathy must be extended beyond the familiar and the lovable, to include all those whose lives are intertwined with ours – often invisibly.

the museum-wide show advocates for animal rights, sentience, and voice | image © designboom

DB: With artists from over 30 countries, how did you make sure the exhibition reflects culturally diverse understandings of human-animal relationships rather than a Western-centric view?

KG: From its inception, Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives was conceived not as a Western-centric exhibition about animals in art, but as a critical, ethical, and culturally expansive exploration of human-animal relationships across different regions, histories, and worldviews. One of EMST’s core commitments is to challenge the dominant narratives that often shape large-scale exhibitions, particularly those rooted in a Western canon. In line with the museum’s mission to explore ‘creative memory practices’ and resist presentism and amnesia, the curatorial approach deliberately sought out artists whose practices are embedded in culturally specific, historically layered, and often marginalised understandings of non-human life.

The exhibition features over 200 works by 60 artists from more than 30 countries across four continents, many of whom engage with non-Western cosmologies, Indigenous perspectives, and postcolonial critiques of human exceptionalism. This diversity was not incidental – it reflects the museum’s broader aim to foreground multiple, often contradictory, ways of understanding the world, particularly those shaped by colonial histories, forced industrialisation, ecological degradation, and ongoing systems of exploitation. Moreover, EMST’s position in Athens – as a city at the intersection of Europe, the Balkans, the Middle East, and North Africa – offers a unique vantage point from which to question binary worldviews. Greece itself has a hybrid identity shaped by Eastern, Levantine, and Western influences, and the museum draws on this complexity to amplify voices and narratives that sit outside of dominant curatorial models. In this sense, Why Look at Animals? is not only about animals, but also about how different cultures relate to the living world – how they remember, mythologise, commodify, mourn, or coexist with it. It is about making space for those understandings that have been excluded or undervalued, and about using contemporary art to surface new ethical relationships with more-than-human life.

Oussama Tabti, Homo-Carduelis, 2022 (installation view), Sound installation, Bird cages, speakers, 33’ (loop), Dimensions variable, Collection of EMST

DB: Do you see this exhibition as the beginning of a larger movement within contemporary art to address the rights of non-human beings? What role should artists and institutions play going forward?

KG: Yes, I believe this exhibition is part of a growing and necessary shift in contemporary art – one that seeks to dismantle anthropocentric worldviews and take seriously the rights, experiences, and agency of non-human beings. While this conversation has existed in philosophy, science, and activism for some time, contemporary art is now increasingly engaging with it in ways that are visceral, imaginative, and politically urgent. Art has a unique capacity to visualise the invisible, to make felt what is often ignored, and to propose new modes of thinking and relating. Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives contributes to a wider re-evaluation of how humans coexist with the more-than-human world – by foregrounding the ethical, emotional, and ecological dimensions of that relationship. The exhibition does not claim to provide definitive answers, but rather opens up a space for questioning, witnessing, and empathising – urging us to reconsider our own fraught and conflicted relationship with animals.

Going forward, artists and institutions alike have a responsibility to foster this kind of critical dialogue. For institutions, that means programming that reflects ecological urgency, supporting transdisciplinary approaches, and ensuring that diverse cultural perspectives on non-human life are represented – not just those rooted in Western scientific or philosophical frameworks. For artists, it means continuing to challenge dominant narratives, creating work that highlights urgent issues and how we understand them and using their practices to imagine more equitable multispecies futures. If there is a movement underway, it must also be an ethical one – grounded in care, accountability, and an openness to learn from other ways of being. The museum can – and must – be a place where such reorientations can begin.

visitors are prompted to engage with animals as complex beings with emotional lives | image © designboom

DB: In working on this project, did your personal relationship with animals or views on speciesism evolve in ways you didn’t expect?

KG: Curating Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives has been both a professional and deeply personal journey. I’ve long been concerned with questions of injustice and inequality, particularly within the human sphere. But I’ve also grown up with many different animals, living side by side with them, and realised early on that they are sentient, intelligent beings who are disadvantaged in our world because they do not possess speech. I’ve always felt the subject of animal rights and well–being to be an urgent one, and was puzzled how the so-called ‘art world’ did not consider it worthy of attention until very recently. Working closely on this exhibition, immersing myself in the vast and often disturbing realities of human-animal relationships, made me confront more viscerally the structural violence and moral blind spots that underpin speciesism.

What surprised me was not so much a change of heart – I have always felt that the way humans treat animals is profoundly problematic – but rather a sharpening of perspective, an expanded sense of urgency given the ecological crisis, in which animals are the invisible victims. The research forced me to confront the sheer scale and normalisation of cruelty towards non-human lives, often hidden in plain sight. I realised just how embedded this hierarchy is in our culture and how difficult it is to disentangle ourselves from it, even when we try. The exhibition also made me reflect more consciously on the idea of co-existence – not as an abstract ideal, but as a necessary ethical imperative. It’s no longer enough to think of animals as beings we must protect out of compassion. We must start acknowledging them as subjects with agency, presence, and rights, as lives that matter in and of themselves, not just in relation to us. This shift, I believe, is one that artists and cultural institutions must support. We have to help recalibrate the ethical lens through which we look at the world, to open up space for imagining new forms of kinship and solidarity across species.

Lynn Hershman Leeson The Infinity Engine, 2014 (detail) Multimedia installation, Dimensions variable. Courtesy of the artist, Altman Siegel, San Francisco and Bridget Donahue, New York

DB: What kind of emotional or intellectual response do you hope to evoke in viewers?

KG: The exhibition confronts a range of exploitative and often invisible forms of violence against animals – whether through scientific testing, space exploration, genetic engineering, hunting, or habitat destruction driven by extractivist and industrial agricultural practices. At its core, Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives is an attempt to shift our gaze from a purely anthropocentric worldview to one that recognises the rights, agency, and suffering of non-human beings. I hope the show elicits both an emotional and intellectual response: empathy, reflection, discomfort, perhaps even outrage – but also a deeper understanding of the structural and ethical failures that underpin our relationship with the non-human world.

The goal is not to provoke guilt, but to awaken awareness and a sense of shared responsibility, and an impetus to change our habits (to meat, for example). By inviting viewers to confront the systemic ways in which human actions harm animal lives and degrade shared ecosystems, Why Look at Animals? aims to build a compelling case for reimagining how we cohabit the planet. The destruction we inflict on non-human life is ultimately a form of self-harm – an expression of greed, moral failure, and a profound inability to coexist with what is simply other than ourselves. If this project can spark meaningful dialogue, raise awareness beyond the art world, and contribute even incrementally to changing attitudes or policy, that would already be a powerful outcome.

Maarten Vanden Eynde
Taxonomic Trophies, 2005 – ongoing (detail)
Branches, wood and metal name tags
Dimensions variable 
Courtesy of the artist

Gustafsson & Haapoja Embrace Your Empathy, 2016/2025 (installation view) Installation, 20 Flags Dimensions variable Co-commissioned by EMSΤ Courtesy of the artists

Radha D’Souza and Jonas Staal, Comrades in Extinction, 2020 – 2021 (installation view, detail), installation with wood, hardened oil landscape and gouache paintings. Dimensions variable, Production by EMST. Courtesy of Studio Jonas Staal

the show boldly confronts the systems that exploit animal life | image © designboom

Paris Petridis Lagia, 2001; Imathia, 2006; Thessaloniki, 2021; Galilee, 2011; Dead Sea, 2012. Courtesy of the artist

(from left to right): Marcus Coates, Extinct Animals, 2018. Courtesy of the artist and Kate MacGarry, London | Simona Denicolai & Ivo Provoost, hello, are we in the show?, 2012. Collection S.M.A.K., Stedelijk Museum voor Actuele Kunst, Ghent | Anne Marie Maes, Glossa (bee tongue), 2024.

Marcus Coates Extinct Animals, 2018 (installation view, detail) Group of 19 casts, plaster Dimensions variable Courtesy of the artist and Kate MacGarry, London| image © designboom

project info:

name: Why Look at Animals? A Case for the Rights of Non-Human Lives

curator: Katerina Gregos | @katerina.gregos

venue: EMST – National Museum of Contemporary Art | @emstathens, Athens, Greece

exhibition design: Flux Office | @flux_office

dates: May 15th, 2025 – January 7th, 2026

The post ‘why look at animals?’ at EMST: katerina gregos on speaking for the voiceless appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

MVRDV’s Winy Maas sits down with designboom to discuss the making of the kinetic Sombra Pavilion and the 3D printed Biotopia installation at the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025. Before the exhibition’s public opening on May 9th 2025, the Dutch architect, and the M of MVRDV together with Jacob van Rijs and Nathalie de Vries, explained the making and thinking behind the SOMBRA pavilion and the Biotopia installation. ‘It’s nice that the pavilion is not solar. In this case, it’s only the air pressure. What we use is our knowledge of the sun. We work a lot on shadow and light, and create and research complex solar programs. For Biotopia, I imagine a fully recyclable, biological world that combines all the properties we need: energy, oxygen, animals, shelter, light, flexibility, and changeability,’ the architect tells designboom during the interview.

One project uses physics to create shade without electricity, while the other imagines a future where buildings grow like living organisms. The SOMBRA pavilion – designed by a team led by MVRDV founding partner Jacob van Rijs – is at the European Cultural Centre’s Giardini Marinaressa, part of the Time Space Existence show. The Biotopia installation is at the Arsenale, part of the main exhibition curated by Carlo Ratti. Both of them are on view until November 2025. For the pavilion, built in collaboration with with Metadecor, Airshade, and Alumet, the structure turns reused beams into large arches, supported by metal ribs. This frame holds triangular panels fitted with perforated metal screens. The pavilion operates without electricity or motors. It relies on physics: when direct sunlight heats small air canisters located within the structure’s ribs, the air pressure inside increases. This pressure inflates small airbags attached to the panels. As an airbag inflates, it contracts, pulling its corresponding panel closed to create shade. When the sun moves and the canisters cool, the pressure decreases, and the panels reopen.

portrait of Winy Maas | image © designboom

Progress to building a biotopic world

Heading to the Arsenale of the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025, Winy Maas and his think tank The Why Factory collaborate with visual artist Federico Díaz to sculpt and present BIOTOPIA. The installation is in two parts. First, the 3D printed sculpture made of polymer. The second is an accompanying film documenting the Dutch architect’s research and how he imagines biotopia will be, which brims with self-sustaining systems. The kind of future here makes biology the foundation for all design. It reimagines cities as forests and architecture as something that grows like a tree. The core concept is a global Sponge, or a type of dynamic biomatter architecture. This Sponge would perform functions like cooling the air, filtering water, and generating energy, all while adapting like a living thing.

The sculptural installation with Federico Díaz, called Propagative Structures, gives physical form to the idea of living matter, of architecture built from living organisms. The work emerges from research into biomimicry, or a field of design that takes inspiration from natural systems. The installation’s forms draw on the structure of mangrove root networks, a suggestion of a future where habitats are not built but cultivated like plants. In our interview with the architect, Winy Maas discusses the future of urbanism, our progress to a biotopic world, the use of computational designs and algorithms in architecture, and what lies ahead for MVRDV, to name a few.

all images courtesy of MVRDV | photos by Federico Vespignani, unless stated otherwise

Interview with Winy MaAs at Venice Architecture Biennale 2025

Designboom (DB): It’s wonderful to see you here in Venice, Winy. We saw the Sombra Pavilion in the garden on our way here. We also read that it’s kinetic?

Winy Maas (WM): It’s a kinetic structure, yes. It doesn’t need energy. Air pressure is generated by a heat difference within the structure itself. That helps to close or open panels, cooling the building at certain corners or not. That, of course, depends on the sun. It’s good to see it in the afternoon too because they placed it next to a tree, so it stands out. The film will be made in the coming months, so we can see the functioning of this air-driven structure. It’s nice that it’s not solar. In this case, it’s only the air pressure. 

What we use is our knowledge of the sun. We work a lot on shadow and light. We create and research complex solar programs. After that, we can start working on the solar panel industry. Sun Rock, for example, which is our project in Taipei for the Taipower Electricity company, is a building covered with solar panels. It’s an example of how we use the sun. It’s a nice project too, and I love it. 

the project uses physics to create shade without electricity

DB: So, the Sombra Pavilion is one project of MVRDV here at the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025. In the Arsenale, you have another titled Biotopia under The Why Factory, which is the think tank and research institute that you lead. Here, it comes in two parts. The first a 3D printed model with the visual artist Federico Diaz that explores the idea of living matter in continuous transformation. The other is a movie that documents and visualizes this future. First off, how do you see a biotopic world?

WM: Biotopia is a dream. Imagine a fully recyclable, biological world that combines all the properties we need: energy, oxygen, animals, shelter, light, flexibility, and changeability. There’s a huge list of properties we demand from our materials and surroundings. Biotopia philosophizes and speculates on the idea that if we create a material or combination of materials that can facilitate these needs precisely when desired by humans, nature, or animals, that will lead to a city you can’t yet imagine. I’m pursuing a few things with my Utopia concept. 

First, I’m trying to paint a sketch. The seven-minute accompanying film visitors see needs improvement, so it will progress over time, to the next step. Second, I’m creating a timeline sequence of materials, an interesting research project I’ll publish in a book. This timeline will detail all the properties we need, measured in time per second, for an average population density. That’s a crucial part. We calculate what we can do with current materials and what’s possible if certain material innovations occur. 

the pavilion is at the European Cultural Centre’s Giardini Marinaressa | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

WM (continued): There are three epochs in these steps, with the current epoch of innovation per technology, like improved 3D printing. The entire MVRDV group is part of this research. A lot is already happening; we have old materials and new materials emerging. We see this more and more, with layers of wood combined with glue, like glulam and CLT. We also have more types of sandwich constructions. Materials are becoming collaborative.  But what if this collaboration becomes more intense?

Materials could help provide light, others energy, and perhaps they could even move. That’s what this timeline aims to explore, too: what kind of collaborations are needed. We’ll depict these in the final timeline, the Blend, where everything is so interactive and active. It could lead to a completely different type of architecture or urbanism. Finally, we’re developing prototypes. These are diverse. One is 3D printing, aiming to move beyond current prefabrication methods. While prefab is fine, 3D printing offers more flexibility.

the structure turns reused beams into large arches, supported by metal ribs | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

DB: We were told that the sculptural installation at the Arsenale was supposed to be made of living organisms instead of 3D printed from polymer. 

WM: Yes, and I’m still completely open to it, but that’ll most likely be after the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025. There’s this dream of using 3D printing that involves two components, or three elements, that are not currently part of 3D printing. The first is what we call the material bank. Carlo Ratti adopted this idea, which involved a machine design where you have various materials. You feed these materials into the 3D printer, which could have multiple nozzles – one for concrete, one for stone, one for glass, one for steel, one for minerals, and one for wood. 

This allows you to select the desired material as you print, changing nozzles along the printing line. This is part of the design. The second component is the printer itself, which is a mixed printer and an ‘un-printer.’ This allows materials to be changed and adapted. To achieve this, an analyzer scans the surface, determines its composition, and then initiates a destruction operation. This process varies depending on the material. For example, 100% glass is easy to break and can be burned in two steps. 

when direct sunlight heats small air canisters, the air pressure inside increases | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

WM (continued): You remove the material, burn it, and the burner sends it to the material bank, from which it can be returned to the printer. This applies to all types of materials. So, we have the mixer, the printer, the ‘un-printer,’ and the material bank. The final component is the monitor, where you design and input data. This input isn’t just for design; it’s also a control mechanism. During printing, you need to monitor the process to prevent cracking. 

This can involve adding more water because the printing material is like a pudding that needs to be as fluid as possible for adhesion. Adding more water helps with the drying period, and you can also use other polymers. I can provide the diagram, but I should patent it first. This is the dream, so far. There’ll also be these robots that would be there to help construct these. I also have a sequence of mycelium tests that I want to do with the school in Jakarta.

the frame holds triangular panels fitted with perforated metal screens | photo by Jaap Heemskerk

DB: That was our follow-up question: the use of biomaterials. It seems that you’ve already used them in your recent projects. In line with this, you’ve also had a talk discussing computational design and algorithms in architecture and design. In what ways have you and MVRDV adopted them into your workflow?

WM: We have our specialties as an office and research group. I cannot do everything, so we need to collaborate extensively. I’m proficient in scripting; our office was one of the first to adopt it, and now our department excels in it. Our team is well-trained in computation and computer science, which I believe is a significant asset. We are skilled in space design, like any architect, and we are also strong in visualization.

DB: What do you think is our progress towards a biotopic world?

WM: There’s a wide range of research I’m trying to gather and collect. We have the example of 3D printing and mycelium. I’m also looking into the lignification of lignin from trees to accelerate this process in the farming industry. This would make the material more fluid, more like willow. I’m also incredibly interested in the electrical changeability of materials, like electrical rubber, for instance. In short, it’s a long process, but the beauty of it is fantastic.

view of the Biotopia installation at the Arsenale | all exhibition photos by Celestia Studio

DB: Are there other materials you want to work or experiment with? What’s next for you?

WM: I like the lignin and the washing-stone technology. This is a new technique we’re developing with Eindhoven. You add a layer of stone, which washes away, and then it assembles into soil. So, it’s essentially accelerating soil creation through erosion and its distribution. This helps plants grow, especially in shadowy areas. We’ve already applied this concept in Dubai for a new pavilion. 

Let’s go back to what you said before we started the interview. We’re sitting in a park, and you asked if I have a relationship with nature. My background already explains it, and I think our architecture is involved in that, meaning nature. I think we make it possible to reconnect people with nature. I like your question about what’s next because that’s the topic of the book we’re making. My lectures are always about what’s next, and they include slides. There are many subjects. I can dream about utopia as a kind of end result, if that’s possible. 

Then, I also have to study mobility. I need to consider when I move and what makes sense, so we’re doing a new study on velocity with different industries. We’re checking how the city would look with a certain kind of mobility: if I walk only, or if I have horses, or if I have three types of mobility. I also want to add properties to drones. It’s not about sending packages, which we can already do. We have a drone skycar in Shenzhen, and surveying is another use. But you can also construct. So I ask my collaborators and clients, ‘What can I do if I want to build a house in the sky?’ Just as a hypothesis. We’ll see.

the installation comes with an accompanying film documenting the building of Biotopia

the first part of the installation is the 3D printed sculpture made of polymer

Winy Maas and his think tank The Why Factory collaborate with visual artist Federico Díaz for the sculpture

the installations are on view in Venice until November 2025

project info:

architect: Winy Maas

firm: MVRDV | @mvrdv

Biotopia

lead architect: Winy Maas

think tank: The Why Factory

artist: Federico Díaz | @federico_diaz_hands

location: Arsenale

event: Venice Architecture Biennale 2025

dates: May 10th to November 23rd, 2025

photography: Celestia Studio, The Why Factory | @celestiastudio

SOMBRA Pavilion

lead architect: Jacob van Rijs

collaboration: Metadecor, Airshade Technologies, MVRDV, Alumet, Van Rossum Raadgevend Ingenieurs, Arup, Kersten Europe, the AMOLF Institute | @metadecor, @airshadetechnologies, @mvrdv, @alumet_nl, @vanrossumbv, @arupgroup 

exhibition: Time Space Existence

location: Giardini Marinaressa

address: Riva dei Sette Martiri, 30122 Venice, Italy

photography: Federico Vespignani, Jaap Heemskerk | @federico_vespignani

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The Rotunda of the Bourse de Commerce in Paris transforms into a mesmerizing aquatic and musical landscape with the unveiling of clinamen, an immersive installation by French artist Céleste Boursier-Mougenot. On view until September 21st, 2025, and curated by Emma Lavigne, General Director of the Pinault Collection, the large-scale project envelops visitors in a multisensory experience where porcelain bowls, water, and invisible currents form a delicate choreography of sound and movement. At the heart of the Rotunda lies an expansive basin, eighteen meters in diameter, filled with water. This vast, tranquil surface acts as a mirror, reflecting the Parisian sky visible through the museum’s iconic dome. White ceramic bowls drift across its surface, propelled by gentle currents, producing unpredictable melodic chimes as they serendipitously collide. 

While this is not the first iteration of clinamen – earlier versions have been staged at institutions including the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, and the Centre Pompidou-Metz – it is the most ambitious to date. ‘This exceptional version of clinamen at the Bourse de Commerce doubles the size of the basin of the largest installations built to date,’ Céleste Boursier-Mougenot tells designboom. The museum’s architecture played a pivotal role. ‘My approach is largely based on taking into account the places and spaces where I am invited to present my work,’ the artist notes,‘I see the architecture of each new exhibition venue as a matrix into which the technical and aesthetic principles of the installation are cast, as if into a mould, resulting in a new version in situ.’ Encased by Tadao Ando’s concrete ring and capped by the monumental glass dome, the Rotunda offers a rare resonance.‘The immense rotunda, encircled by Tadao Ando’s cement casket, under the high glass roof, offers clinamen the opportunity to fully express its planispheric dimension,’ Boursier-Mougenot says.

Céleste Boursier-Mougenot, clinamen v.10, 2012-2025, courtesy of the artist, Paula Cooper Gallery (New York), Galerie Xippas (Paris), Galerie Mario Mazzoli (Berlin) | photo by Nicolas Brasseur | all images courtesy of Bourse de Commerce—Pinault Collection, unless stated otherwise

embracing unpredictability within the clinamen installation

Like many of Céleste Boursier-Mougenot’s works, the Bourse de Commerce installation exists at the intersection of sound, sculpture, and performance. It also marks the culmination of decades of experimentation with sonic systems that operate independently of human control. A musician by origin, Boursier-Mougenot approaches sound as a ‘living material’ – as seen in clinamen, where the traditional constraints of music are shed, replaced by a self-regulating system that breathes and changes with each passing moment. ‘My systems of sound or musical production are modeled or inspired by living, self-regulating forms like organisms,’ the artist explains. 

The title clinamen comes from Epicurean physics and refers to the random, unpredictable motion of atoms. For Boursier-Mougenot, this idea mirrors the elemental operations at play in the installation. ‘The analogy between my work entitled clinamen and the phenomenon of clinamen described by Lucretius in De rerum natura also concerned the notion of declination in the combinatorial sense and the question of exhausting the possibilities of encounter, occurrence and permutation,’ the artist says. He sees the installation as ‘a kind of model, a fairly schematic example, in which all these interactions take place before our eyes and for our ears.’ The inherent unpredictability is central to the experience: ‘if in the moment before two porcelain bowls collide you try to anticipate the resulting note or timbre, most of the time your expectation will be foiled by the sound of the collision.’

clinamen takes over the iconic Rotunda of the Bourse de Commerce

enveloping visitors in a multisensory experience

Boursier-Mougenot deliberately embraces unpredictability in his creative process, a practice he discovered when allowing external sounds to enrich his compositions. This openness led him to ‘think about the production of music based on self-regulating systems. These systems generate musical forms over which I have no control over the order of inputs, but the result is very important to me.’ This philosophy informs the entire structure of clinamen, which runs on a self-regulating system akin to a living organism. The materials, too, are deliberately fragile and mutable. Porcelain, water, sound. ‘It was while playing in my studio with everything needed to produce a catastrophe […] that this work took shape, almost thirty years ago,’ he recalls. Clinamen beautifully embodies a tension between apparent opposites: order and chaos, stillness and movement, silence and sound. The artist’s previous work, harmonichaos, which involved vacuum cleaners playing harmonicas, explored similar themes of unpredictable, self-regulating systems. ‘With harmonichaos, it’s impossible to predict when each of the thirteen vacuum cleaners will work or stop, nor the duration of silences or chords played and held by one vacuum cleaner/harmonica module or another,’ he shares, highlighting the interplay of chance and inherent system logic.

In a world defined by acceleration and distraction, clinamen invites a radical slowing down. Visitors become part of the installation simply by being present. ‘With my installations, I make it clear to everyone who visits that they can find a place within the work and become an integral part of it momentarily by their mere presence,’ he says. ‘The simple fact of inviting people to sit down and rest induces attitudes conducive to listening and daydreaming.’ Ultimately, clinamen is not only a meditation on matter, motion, and sound, but a quietly profound call to attention. ‘I don’t believe my art can change anything in the madness of today’s world,’ Boursier-Mougenot admits, ‘but since I’m invited to present my work, I bring the best I have.’ Read our conversation with the artist in full below, and watch clinamen in action here.

porcelain bowls, water, and invisible currents form a delicate choreography of sound and movement | photo by Florent Michel / 11H45

INTERVIEW WITH Céleste Boursier-Mougenot

designboom (DB): How did the architecture of the Rotunda in the Bourse de Commerce shape this version of the clinamen?

Céleste Boursier-Mougenot (CBM): My approach is largely based on taking into account the places and spaces where I am invited to present my work. I see the architecture of each new exhibition venue as a matrix into which the technical and aesthetic principles of the installation are cast, as if into a mould, resulting in a new version in situ. In this way, many of the installation’s parameters can be redefined by the characteristics and particularities of the venue. At the Bourse de Commerce, the immense rotunda, encircled by Tadao Ando’s cement casket, under the high glass roof, offers clinamen the opportunity to fully express its planispheric dimension.

DB: The immersive installation has been shown before, but never at this scale. What new possibilities—or challenges—did this larger format bring?

CBM: You’re right, this exceptional version of clinamen at the Bourse de Commerce doubles the size of the basin of the largest installations built to date. At this stage, no one can say for sure whether everything will work as usual on this scale. It’s a challenge, with a multitude of technical issues to resolve in order to remain faithful to the work and its simplicity. To achieve this, I’m working with a team of excellent technicians, and it’s only at the time of the tests that we’ll know if everything is working. So it’s quite experimental, as I think any attempt at art should be.

at the heart of the Rotunda lies an expansive basin, eighteen meters in diameter, filled with water

DB: The title clinamen refers to the random motion of atoms in Epicurean physics. How does this idea connect to the movement and behavior of the installation?

CBM: Clinamen, this word and its definition came to me in the summer of 1997, as I was leafing through the pages of a dictionary. I was looking for a title for my new installation that would describe the principle of the work. I had the word declination in mind and was looking for a synonym here and there. The cosmic connotations of clinamen immediately captivated me and I found many analogies between the phenomenon it describes and my work in progress. So I adopted the title. Shortly afterwards, in view of the installation’s appearance, the title clinamen seemed a little pretentious, and for the work’s first exhibition I called it untitled. In the years that followed, untitled enjoyed great success in France and abroad in many different versions. Around 2003, production of the inflatable swimming pool model I had been using came to an abrupt halt. I had to design my installations with floating porcelain by having raised floors made into which one or more round pools could be integrated. Later, for exhibitions in vast spaces without walls, the raised floor took the form of a platform with access ramps and surrounded by circular benches, virtually acting as walls. As versions of the installation became larger and more planispheric, I decided in 2012 to rename the largest of them clinamen.

The analogy between my work entitled clinamen and the phenomenon of clinamen described by Lucretius in De rerum natura also concerned the notion of declination in the combinatorial sense and the question of exhausting the possibilities of encounter, occurrence and permutation. For materialists, the clinamen is the minimum angle that leads atoms, those inseparable and eternal particles, to collide and assemble to produce, by aggregation, all the perishable matter of our world, which constantly disintegrates and reformates : atoms are to matter what the letters of the alphabet are to language and writing, and it is from the variety of their combination that everything exists. In my work, there is also a curved movement that leads the cells represented by the porcelain bowls to collide, producing a world of sounds and potentially all the occurrences of the elements present. We can contemplate clinamen installation as a kind of model, a fairly schematic example, in which all these interactions take place before our eyes and for our ears. But if you try to trace the causal thread of a sequence, it’s impossible to do it live. In other words, if in the moment before two porcelain bowls collide you try to anticipate the resulting note or timbre, most of the time your expectation will be foiled by the sound of the collision.

unpredictable melodic chimes emerge as the bowls serendipitously collide

DB: The piece is guided by invisible currents, where ceramic bowls create sound through chance encounters. How do you work with unpredictability as part of your creative process?

CBM: I discovered the virtues of unpredictability for my music the day I accepted that outside sounds, totally unrelated to my own, such as those of the urban environment of the unspoilt place where I was producing my music, could mix with it and enrich it. Later, during a play by the company whose music I was composing, which was being staged on the roof of a campus building, the sounds of cars in the distance or the sound of the wind could be heard. The sounds of cars in the distance or voices, wind, planes passing in the sky and crows flying overhead mixed with my music for a noisy string quartet and reanimated it. It was all a question of sound levels and permanence of course, but it gave a “here and now” quality to my recorded and broadcast music. Later, I often used microphones to pick up sounds live outside theatres, reinjecting them and mixing them with my music. These experiences opened my ears and gradually led me to think about the production of music based on self-regulating systems. These systems generate musical forms over which I have no control over the order of inputs, but the result is very important to me.

ceramic bowls drift across the water surface, propelled by gentle currents

DB: Your choice of materials—porcelain bowls, water, currents—feels deliberately elemental. What draws you to these fragile, mutable mediums?

CBM: One day, Jack, a friend of mine who’s a piano maker, said to me: the piano is a collection of different materials – metal, wood, felt, glue, etc. – which can be dangerous to each other, and which are also subject to phenomenal mechanical tensions capable of destroying them. Fortunately, the ingenious arrangement of these materials results in an almost living object that only awaits the tension of the pianist’s nervous system to become the alter ego of the player.
For my part, it was while playing in my studio with everything needed to produce a catastrophe (inflatable pool, soft plastic, glass, porcelain, water, pump, electricity, heating element, etc.) that this work took shape, almost thirty years ago. In the field of art and installation, any object can be considered according to criteria that no longer have anything to do with its functionality.

as the bowls serendipitously collide they produce unpredictable melodic chimes | photo by Nicolas Brasseur

DB: You’ve described sound as a ‘living material.’ How do you approach sound, not just as music, but as something sculptural, spatial, and physical ?

CBM: Rather, my systems of sound or musical production are modeled or inspired by living, self-regulating forms like organisms. As I relate with the harmonicaos work and the use of tuners immersed in a form of hesitation or doubt that I notice and exploit to thwart forms of off-putting repetition.

DB: There’s a tension in clinamen—between order and chaos, stillness and movement, silence and sound. How do you see these opposites coexisting in your work ?

It’s funny, towards the end of the nineties, I called an installation harmonichaos. It consists of thirteen silent vacuum cleaners, each of which plays a small diatonic harmonica, whose tonality, or tuning of the vacuumed notes, is different from the twelve other harmonicas. The operation and shutdown of each vacuum/harmonica module depends on a frequency analyzer built into the module. This is a chromatic tuner used by musicians to tune their instruments. It accurately identifies the sound frequency of a single note at a time, but its analysis becomes more than uncertain as soon as the device detects several notes or a chord simultaneously. The device reacts to surrounding sounds, hesitates, contradicts itself …
Observing this, I thought that a logic other than the one for which the device had been designed was at work, because the time division seemed “alive” to me. It was only a short step from there to imagining a specific form of life. I used the device because of its unreliability. With harmonichaos, it’s impossible to predict when each of the thirteen vacuum cleaners will work or stop, nor the duration of silences or chords played and held by one vacuum cleaner/harmonica module or another. Each module interacts with the twelve others in the ensemble ad libitum. What’s more, this low-tech system is disrupted by variations in the voltage of the electrical network feeding it, making any attempt at prediction even more highly improbable.

clinamen is encased by Tadao Ando’s concrete ring and capped by the monumental glass dome | photo by Nicolas Brasseur

DB: Your installations often invite the audience into a sensory, open-ended experience. What role does the visitor play in activating or completing the work?

CBM: When you visit an exhibition, aren’t you yourself sensitive to the presence of other visitors? If they give you the impression of not knowing why they’re there? It can be funny, but it can also be pathetic. If they only look at the works through their cameras or smartphones, and step back without paying attention to the other visitors to frame a masterpiece, I think that’s awful. With my installations, I make it clear to everyone who visits that they can find a place within the work and become an integral part of it momentarily by their mere presence. When I succeed in doing this, I find it makes people more beautiful… I’ve also noticed that when I compose the spaces of my installations using circles or curves, it makes visitors’ trajectories more harmonious and their wandering more fluid than in orthogonal spaces. The simple fact of inviting people to sit down and rest induces attitudes conducive to listening and daydreaming.

DB: In an age of speed and distraction, how do you see your work offering space for slowness, attention, and contemplation?

CBM: I don’t believe my art can change anything in the madness of today’s world, I don’t presume to know what anyone needs, but since I’m invited to present my work, I bring the best I have.

the water surface acts as a mirror, reflecting the Parisian sky through the museum’s dome | photo by Nicolas Brasseur

the installation invites visitors to sit down and slow down | image © designboom

project info:

name: clinamen

artist: Céleste Boursier-Mougenot | @celesteboursiermougenot

curator: Emma Lavigne, Chief Curator and General Director of the Pinault Collection

location: Bourse de Commerce — Pinault Collection, 2 rue de Viarmes, 75001, Paris, France | @boursedecommerce

dates: June 5th – September 21st, 2025

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At LUMA Arles, a pivotal chapter in the history of postwar art and innovation takes center stage in Sensing the Future: Experiments in Art and Technology (E.A.T.). This landmark exhibition, the first in France to explore the legacy of E.A.T. in depth, is presented in collaboration with the Getty Research Institute and traces the history of a movement that brought together hundreds of key avant-garde artists and the engineers who ushered in the information age. Founded in 1966 by artists Robert Rauschenberg and Robert Whitman alongside Billy Klüver and Fred Waldhauer, engineers at Bell Telephone Laboratories – then the world’s leading center for electronic innovation and telecommunications research – E.A.T. emerged as a radical platform that reimagined the possibilities of creative practice through direct collaboration between artists and technologists.

On view through January 11, 2026, the exhibition surveys a transformative period in which the barriers between disciplines – between art and science, experimentation and activism – were actively dismantled. Through a wealth of archival documents, film footage, case studies, and rarely exhibited works by figures such as John Cage, Fujiko Nakaya, Andy Warhol, and Rauschenberg himself, Sensing the Future traces the movement’s arc from the heady optimism of the late 1960s through its more decentralized but no less ambitious projects of the 1970s.‘The mid-60s to mid-70s period were by all accounts the most fervent years of E.A.T.,’ Simon Castets, Director of Strategic Initiatives at LUMA, tells designboom. ‘The stars were truly aligned, not only in terms of funding, but also of mutual fascination between the then impermeable realms of art and science.’ The 1973 oil crisis signaled a shift: public funding dried up, and technology itself became more accessible, prompting many participants to pursue independent trajectories. Even so, Billy Klüver –together with his partner Julie Martin – remained devoted to stewarding E.A.T.’s legacy, preserving an archive that would later prove indispensable to understanding the entwined histories of art and technology. By revisiting the trajectory of the movement, Sensing the Future offers more than historical reflection. It reveals how the questions posed by E.A.T. – about interdisciplinary exchange, innovation, and the future as a shared project – remain not only relevant, but urgent.

Sensing the Future: Experiments in Art and Technology (E.A.T.), LUMA Arles | artwork: Facsimiles refabricated by The Andy Warhol Museum – mylar filled with helium (front) | Larry Keating, The Artist and the computer, 1976 – video (back) | all images © Victor&Simon – Victor Picon, © ADAGP, Paris, 2025, unless stated otherwise | header image: E.A.T.’s Pepsi Pavilion at Expo ’70, Osaka, Japan, 1970, March 18 | photograph by Shunk-Kender | Getty Research Institute, Los Angeles, gift of the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation in Memory of Harry Shunk and Janos Kender © J. Paul Getty Trust

LUMA ARLES UNPACKS THE HISTORY OF E.A.T. IN LANDMARK EXHIBITION

Sensing the Future takes over the Living Archives Gallery of the LUMA Arles Tower, unpacking the landmark moments that defined E.A.T.’s short but influential lifespan. The exhibition begins with a deep dive into the group’s beginnings in the mid-1960s, tracing how a visionary alliance between artists and engineers gave rise to one of the most ambitious interdisciplinary initiatives of the 20th century. Artworks and documentation outline E.A.T.’s establishment in 1966 through the 9 Evenings: Theatre & Engineering event in New York, where ten artists, among them John Cage, Lucinda Childs, Robert Rauschenberg and Robert Whitman, teamed up with dozens of Bell Labs engineers to stage multimedia performances that employed infrared cameras, wireless sound transmission, and video projection – technologies then still foreign to the art world.

From that unlikely synergy grew an ethos of experimentation, grounded in collaboration, access, and action. Among E.A.T.’s most ambitious undertakings was the Pepsi Pavilion at Expo ’70 in Osaka, Japan. Artists Robert Whitman, Robert Breer, David Tudor, and Forrest (Frosty) Myers made early contributions to the design of the pavilion, while eventually the design team grew to twenty artists and fifty engineers and scientists. Conceived as a gesamtkunstwerk, or total artwork, the pavilion featured a geodesic dome clad in a mirror-finished surface, an internal sound-responsive light system, and a water-vapor cloud sculpture by Japanese artist Fujiko Nakaya. Her contribution, an enveloping cloud of artificial mist that obscured and transformed the pavilion’s form, ushered a new vocabulary of ephemeral, site-specific art that blurred perception and challenged the dominance of the visual in technological environments. More than half a century later, Nakaya’s legacy continues to reverberate across contemporary practice. Alongside Sensing the Future, another of her works, Fog Sculpture #07563, is on view as part of LUMA’s concurrent exhibition, Streaming from Our Eyes (evolving title, formerly Dance with Daemons).

view of the section dedicated to the Pepsi Pavilion at Expo ’70 in Osaka with materials by Harris Shunk, Janós Kender, Fujiko Nakaya

THE RADICAL MOVEMENT’S ENDURING LEGACY

Whether through the immersive fog-drenched environments of the Pepsi Pavilion at Expo ’70 in Osaka or civic initiatives addressing environmental design and urban communication, E.A.T. continually pushed the boundaries of what art could do, and whom it could serve. A pivotal section of the exhibition is dedicated to Projects Outside Art, a bold strand of E.A.T.’s activities that extended the group’s collaborative ethos beyond the traditional confines of the art world. First presented as an exhibition in New York in 1971, Projects Outside Art marked a shift toward socially engaged, systems-oriented experimentation. ‘Projects Outside Art ushered in a series of exploratory initiatives across the world in partnership with governmental agencies and universities, aimed at broadening the scope and impact of E.A.T.’s mission, as well as its international reach,’ notes Simon Castets. ‘With, for example, research into the educational potential of television in India, El Salvador and Guatemala, E.A.T.’s ambition reflected a deep belief in advanced technologies as a means to advance social aims. While more often than not the projects remained unrealized, their methodology and ethos of cross-disciplinary collaboration have had an undeniable impact on our way of thinking today’s infrastructures of innovation.’

In an age increasingly defined by technological acceleration and its discontents, the utopian idealism at the heart of E.A.T. feels at once remote and urgently necessary. As Simon Castets observes, ‘today, innovation is much more frequently framed as a threat, often rightfully so. Yet, the legacy of E.A.T.’s collaborative spirit could help bring out technology’s positive potential across fields.’  Much like the early 20th-century Futurists envisioned the artist as a vital force within industrial society, E.A.T. imagined new roles for artists across domains as varied as education, public policy, and environmental research. Reengaging with that vision today invites us to reconsider the artist’s capacity not only to reflect society, but to reshape it, through dialogue, through experimentation, and through the conviction that creativity and criticality belong at the core of every system we build.

performance inside the Pepsi-Cola Pavilion, 1970 | photograph by Shunk-Kender | archival inkjet print from negative, Getty Research Institute, 2014.R.20. | gift of the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation in memory of Harry Shunk and János Kender © J. Paul Getty Trust

LUMA’S LONG-TERM INTEREST IN artist-led use of technologies

Sensing the Future originated as part of the 2024 edition of PST ART: Art & Science Collide, a region-wide initiative presented by the J. Paul Getty Trust across Southern California, comprising over 60 exhibitions and public programs exploring the intersections of artistic and scientific inquiry. Organized by the Getty Research Institute (GRI) – a global leader in visual culture research and home to one of the world’s most extensive art libraries – the exhibition brought renewed scholarly and curatorial focus to E.A.T.’s interdisciplinary legacy. In adapting the show for its European debut at LUMA Arles, the curatorial team embraced both continuity and expansion. ‘E.A.T. is much better known in the U.S. than in France,’ notes Simon Castets. ‘Therefore, in the additional time we had, it behooved us to build upon the extraordinary research done by the Getty Research Institute and include additional works and archival elements. The core structure of the exhibition remains the same, yet, together with Getty, the work continued and we were able to also feature key artworks by other essential figures of that history, including Marta Minujín, Wen-Ying Tsai, Andy Warhol, Lilian Schwartz, and Hans Haacke, alongside dozens of archival documents.’

As the first exhibition in France devoted exclusively to E.A.T., Sensing the Future reflects LUMA Arles’ long-term research interest in the artist-led use of technologies. ‘LUMA’s longstanding commitment to artist-led, innovation-driven initiatives resonates with E.A.T.’s pioneering collaborations between artists and engineers,’ Castets explains. ‘Both share a belief in the generative power of process over product, valuing experimentation as a catalyst for new ways of thinking.’ This alignment lends the exhibition not only historical significance but also a pressing contemporary urgency. At a time when the role of the artist is increasingly intertwined with disciplines ranging from environmental research to artificial intelligence, Sensing the Future underscores how fertile such crossovers can be, particularly when grounded in mutual respect, curiosity, and the open-ended nature of experimentation itself.

interior of the Mirror Dome at the Pepsi-Cola Pavilion, 1970, Photograph by Fujiko Nakaya |  Gelatin-silver print Getty Research Institute, 940003 | Art © Fujiko Nakaya, courtesy Experiments in Art and Technology. © J. Paul Getty Trust

Pepsi-Cola Pavilion, 1970, photograph by Shunk-Kender | archival inkjet print from negative, Getty Research Institute, 2014.R.20 | gift of the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation in memory of Harry Shunk and Janos Kender | Floats © Robert Breer/Kate Flax/gb agency, Paris | Fog © Fujiko Nakaya, courtesy Experiments in Art and Technology | light Towers © Forrest Myers.© J. Paul Getty Trust

Floats, 1970, Robert Breer, photograph by Shunk-Kender | archival inkjet print from negative, Getty Research Institute, 2014.R.20. | gift of the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation in memory of Harry Shunk and János Kender | Floats © Robert Breer/Kate Flax/gb agency, Paris. © J. Paul Getty Trust

Fog Sculpture, Pepsi Pavillion, Japan World Exposition 1970, Fujiko Nakaya, Getty Research Institute, © J. Paul Getty Trust

performance inside the Pepsi-Cola Pavilion, 1970 | photograph by Shunk-Kender | archival inkjet print from negative, Getty Research Institute, 2014.R.20. | gift of the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation in memory of Harry Shunk and János Kender © J. Paul Getty Trust

Fujiko Nakaya at the construction of the Pepsi-Cola Pavillon, photographed by Billy Klüver, © Julie Martin

Marta Minujín, Minuphone, 1967 | Marta Minujín, Greetings from Marta Minujín, 1967 – Postcard from 1969 with the Minuphone | Marta Minujín, Marta Minujín’s Art Works, 1966-1969 – Video | © Victor&Simon – Grégoire D’Ablon

Greetings from Marta Minujín, Postcard from 1969 with the Minuphone (1967), © Marta Minujín

Marta Minujín, Minuphone, 1967 © Victor&Simon – Grégoire D’Ablon

Variations VII, 1966, John Cage | photograph by Peter Moore |. Gelatin-silver print. Getty Research Institute, 940003 © Northwestern University. © J. Paul Getty Trust

Fakir in 3⁄4 Time, 1968, Lucy Jackson Young and Niels O. Young | photograph by Shunk-Kender | Gelatin-silver print, Getty Research Institute, 2014.R.20. | Gift of the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation in memory of Harry Shunk and Janos Kender | Art courtesy Thomas Young © J. Paul Getty Trust

section dedicated to the movement’s beginning’s | Harris Shunk, Janós Kender, Tom Gormley,Anders Österlin, Robert Whitman, E.A.T.

Harris Shunk, Janós Kender, E.A.T, Robert Rauschenberg, Harold Hodges

Robert Rauschenberg, Harold Hodges, Dry Cell, 1963 | Silkscreen ink and oil on Plexiglas, metal coat hanger, wire, string, sound transmitter, circuit board, and battery-powered motor on metal folding camp stool

project info:

exhibition name: Sensing the Future: Experiments in Art and Technology (E.A.T.)
participating artists: Robert Breer, John Cage, Lucinda Childs, Ivan Dryer, Jean Dupuy, Öyvind Fahlström, Hans Haacke, Alex Hay, Deborah Hay, Marta Minujín, Peter Moore, Forrest Myers, Fujiko Nakaya, Steve Paxton, Yvonne Rainer, Robert Rauschenberg, Lillian Schwartz, Harry Shunk & János Kender, Wen-Ying Tsai, David Tudor, Andy Warhol, Robert Whitman, and others
location: LUMA Arles, France | The Tower, Living Archives Gallery, Level -2 | @luma_arles
dates: May 1st, 2025 to January 11th, 2026

organizer: LUMA Arles in partnership with the Getty Research Institute | @gettymuseum
LUMA Arles team: Simon Castets, Director of Strategic Initiatives; Vassilis Oikonomopoulos, Artistic Director; Fabian Gröning, Project Manager for Strategic Initiatives; Martin Guinard, Curator

Getty Research Institute team: Nancy Perloff, Curator, Megan Mastroianni and Andrew Park, Research Assistants, Alex Jones, Curatorial Assistant, Daniela Ruano Orantes, Curatorial Project Assistance

The post LUMA arles revisits E.A.T., the radical 1960s movement that fused art and technology appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.

Lagos-based architecture practice Oshinowo Studio brings ‘Alternative Urbanism: self-organising markets of Lagos‘ to the 19th International Architecture Exhibition of the Venice Biennale, spotlighting three of the city’s most dynamic informal markets—Ladipo, Computer Village, and Katangua. Invited by curator Carlo Ratti to respond to his circular economy manifesto, the studio explores how these systems repurpose waste from the global north into valuable goods, offering a powerful model of embedded circularity. ‘These markets don’t work just as places of commerce and exchange,’ notes founder Tosin Oshinowo in an exclusive interview with designboom. ‘What is fascinating is the factory-like process that occurs when a source material is re-appropriated and adapted through different sectors in these markets,’ she tells us. Through immersive film, photography, data visualisations, and recycled denim maps crafted in Katangua, the exhibition reframes Lagos’s markets as complex infrastructures of ingenuity, shaped by scarcity and sustained by collective intelligence.

Rejecting voyeuristic representations of African spaces, the installation at the Arsenale avoids still images of deprivation and instead offers a technical view into the working mechanics of these markets. ‘It was important that the narrative be optimistic; after all, I live and work in Lagos,’ Oshinowo says. ‘I do not see what happens here as backwards or deprived; I see this as fascinating, innovative, and the other extreme of global capitalism,’ she adds. With her team’s mapping, video documentation, and textile production done within Katangua, the pavilion elevates local material knowledge to an international stage. In doing so, it delivers a clear message to Biennale visitors.‘The biggest lesson and shift in perspective I hope to share and inspire with this global audience is that we all can do more with less,’ Tosin Oshinowo suggests.

Alternative Urbanism: self-organising markets of Lagos at the Arsenale | image by Paul Raftery

Oshinowo Studio offers a blueprint for adaptive urban futures

Ladipo Market deals in second-hand car parts; Computer Village in used electronics; and Katangua in recycled fashion. While their contents differ, their shared value lies in how they extend the life of consumer goods through a communal network of reuse, repair, and resale. ‘These specialist markets emerge across the city in white and brown-fill sites, residential zones, and defunct industrial parks,’ Tosin Oshinowo shares with designboom. ‘Through a collective intelligence, the city operates at a sophisticated level outside of orthodox methodologies and functions at scale without the expected industrialized infrastructure.’ Her exhibition doesn’t romanticize the struggle but rather reframes Lagos’s informal urban systems as prototypes for sustainable cities—systems built from adaptation, making them increasingly relevant in a time of global resource scarcity.

As Oshinowo explains, these spaces represent ‘a glimpse into an urban condition without imperialism, colonialism, and modernism imposed on the continent.’ Far from being symbols of deprivation, the markets are framed as energetic ecosystems shaped by ‘bottom-up structures and soft-power systems.’ Located in areas ranging from residential zones to defunct industrial parks, each market illustrates the kind of grassroots adaptability often excluded from conventional urban planning. With Nigeria’s currency devalued by 700% since 2005 and most of the population living on under $2 a day, these markets respond with a resilience that blends necessity with aspiration. ‘The majority of Africa is urbanized but not industrialized,’ the Lagos-based architect explains. ‘This situation creates an urban condition that is alternative to conventional expectations of progress and development.’ Read on for our full interview with Tosin Oshinowo.

the studio explores how these systems repurpose waste | image by Paul Raftery

interview with Tosin Oshinowo

designboom (DB): Alternative Urbanism is a powerful title—how does it reflect your view of Lagos’s informal markets, and in what ways do they challenge conventional models of urban planning and sustainability?

Tosin Oshinowo (TO): The title is impactful; however, it simply states a reality that occurs as parallel development with the rest of the world. The majority of Africa is urbanized but not industrialized, and this situation creates an urban condition that is alternative to conventional expectations of progress and development. This research project uses the informal market as an entry point to understand this condition. Lagos is a heightened example of this condition because of its critical mass—the city has 0.3% of Nigeria’s surface area and 10% of its population, 26.4 million. With insufficient industrialized infrastructure, it is challenging to manage the city structurally. This density allows us to observe this condition in concentration. These markets happen when bottom-up structures and soft-power systems come to the foreground.

Rem Koolhaas’ research in the late 1990s and early 2000s observed that the urban condition in Lagos defied orthodox planning methodologies. Here, I suggest that instead of defying these methodologies, what we observe in the city condition reverts to an evolution from tradition. It could be considered a glimpse into an urban condition without imperialism, colonialism, and modernism imposed on the continent. The informal African market is the most unadulterated urban artifact of our city’s developmental framework. It is the fabric of the commons, a shared space everyone contributes to and shares in its benefits. The markets operate in a capitalist model and outside of it. The markets have evolved from pre-colonial times to their present state in the post-colonial African city. Holding more than just places of commerce and exchange, but also of divine importance. In Yorùbá culture from southwest Nigeria, the market holds divine significance in mythology as it is seen as the point of final departure for the soul from the earth (ilé) as it rightfully returns to the heavens (òrun).

recycled denim maps crafted in Katangua | image by Paul Raftery

DB: Carlo Ratti’s circular economy manifesto set the tone for this year’s Biennale. How did it resonate with your existing observations of Lagos, and what discoveries emerged from your research into these self-organizing markets?

TO: When I first read Carlo Ratti’s manifesto, I was excited that this research resonated with the theme and perfect timing. There is nothing more euphoric than realizing that you are part of a change movement. Circularity has been a long-standing practice in regions that deal with austerity. It is encouraging that there is a growing understanding globally that we all need to embody this methodology. When I started the research on the markets, it was initially out of an interest to understand how global south cities function at scale with inadequate infrastructure.

As I developed this narrative, I observed how sophisticated the system of markets and circularity is embedded into commerce and city life. I observed that due to Nigeria’s challenged economic condition and the reality of desires to live in modernity, capital-intensive consumer products are outside of the immediate reach of the average Nigerian consumer, with the Nigerian Naira devalued by 700% since 2005. These markets don’t work just as places of commerce and exchange. Several specialist markets sell second-hand products considered redundant from the global north. What is fascinating is the factory-like process that occurs when a source material is re-appropriated and adapted through different sectors in these markets. These markets effectively take waste from the global north and extend product life while producing less carbon.

the exhibition reframes Lagos’s markets as complex infrastructures of ingenuity | image by Andrea Avezzù

DB: Ladipo, Computer Village, and Katangua each represent a different kind of circular ingenuity. Why these three, and what do they collectively reveal about resilience and resourcefulness in urban Nigeria?

TO: So far, the research has documented 80+ specialist markets, as the convergence of like-for-like across the city’s urban fabric has been fascinating. I selected these three markets for the exhibition because their content deals with circularity. Like all markets, they deal with consumer goods, but these three represent staples of modernity. And the opportunity for people in these regions to afford capital-intensive consumer goods like cars, electronics, and clothes. Where does the hyperconsumerist global north dispose of its waste? Today, two-thirds of Nigerians live on less than $2 a day. These conditions create the fertile ground to harbor this kind of circularity not seen before structural adjustment programs imposed on the global south from the mid-1980s and early 1990s.

the installation offers a technical view into the working mechanics of these markets | image by Andrea Avezzù

DB: Your pavilion merges data, video, and recycled textiles to evoke the atmosphere of the markets. How did you navigate the challenge of capturing their energy and complexity within the formal setting of the Arsenale?

TO: It was challenging, particularly because I was mindful not to share this as a narrative of deprivation, which can easily come across by using still images from Africa. It was important that the narrative be optimistic; after all, I live and work in Lagos. I do not see what happens here as backwards or deprived; I see this as fascinating, innovative, and the other extreme of global capitalism.

The essence of the immersive film of the market captured a narrative of intense activity and optimism. It was a great privilege for the team to have access to film and photograph these spaces, and we do not take for granted the immense trust we have been given. It was also important that this did not become just an immersive film; we wanted to ensure that we showed a technical prowess to document the urban condition of these markets, which we showed through a series of mappings taken of each market and its surrounding urban fabric. The medium we used to show these was heat-transfer graphics placed in recycled denim patchwork, all produced in the Katangua market. Coupled with pause moments captured through photography, it created a visual language that was intriguing and enigmatic in its context.

immersive film, photography and data visualisations shape the exhibition | image by Paul Raftery

DB: The notion of ‘communal intelligence’ underpins your curatorial narrative. How do these markets embody that idea, and what lessons might formal design systems draw from it?

TO: The specialist markets in Lagos are informal; the state does not plan them, and they have emerged due to specific conducive political, social, and economic conditions. These markets as individual nodes have clear governing and management structures. Still, observing from the macro level, it’s fascinating to see that through a collective intelligence, the city operates at a sophisticated level outside of orthodox methodologies and functions at scale without the expected industrialized infrastructure. It is outside of conventional ways of thinking about the modern city, which tends to be the top-down result of the collective few. These specialist markets emerge across the city in white and brown-fill sites, residential zones, and defunct industrial parks. These markets resonate with the theme of communal intelligence, highlighting the system that speaks to an alternative urbanism, which contributes sparingly to our global carbon challenge in their operation and an optimistic conversation on circularity.

Katangua Market overview | image by Andrew Esiebo

DB: With a global audience in Venice, what shifts in perception about African cities—especially Lagos—do you hope this exhibition might provoke or inspire?

TO: The world can learn a lot from African cities. This region, which is the least industrialized yet urbanized, contributes the least to global carbon emissions while suffering some of the most severe damage. The biggest lesson and shift in perspective I hope to share and inspire with this global audience is that we all can do more with less.

market stall at Computer Village | image by Nengi Nelson

project info:

name: Alternative Urbanism: self-organising markets of Lagos

architect – curator: Lagos-based | @oshinowo.studio

founder & lead curator: Tosin Oshinowo | @tosin.oshinowo

location: Arsenale, Venice, Italy

program: Venice Architecture Biennale | @labiennale

dates: May 10th — November 23rd, 2025

photographers: Paul Raftery | @paulrafterystudio, Andrea Avezzù | @ave_zz, Andrew Esiebo | @andrewesiebo, Nengi Nelson | @nenginelson1, Taran Wilkhu | @taranwilkhu, Amanda Iheme | @amandaiheme, Olarenwaju Ali | @olanrewaju_v

The post ‘we all can do more with less’: oshinowo studio brings lagos’ markets to the venice biennale appeared first on designboom | architecture & design magazine.