PAIRS 29 – CONNECTING TO THE LANDSCAPE

Two recently published projects both have texts that tell of their relationship with ‘the landscape’: see - https://www.dezeen.com/2026/07/15/daechi-ssangyong-studio-libeskind-seoul/ and https://share.google/zADUdSulmsYAgSrGb below. The Studio Libeskind cluster of six, 49 storied towers aims to connect residents with the landscape. The report later expands on this statement, seeming to want to explain this concept for a project located in Seoul’s dense Gangnam district, by including the sky in the broader understanding of connection: We wanted to design a place that connects residents to the sky, the landscape, and one another. The idea might appear admirable, but one does struggle to understand this achievement that suggests an appreciation of a broad, impressive, idyllic context, ‘the landscape,’ when the project seems to boldly highlight a bespoke separation in its declaration of an iconic, stand-alone setting that looks like a grand, self-contained theatrical performance area envisaged as a living work of art.

Fountainhead House.

Fountainhead House site.

Gangnam District, Seoul.

Studio Libeskind project, Seoul.

In contrast to this dense, high-rise concept of designed living, the report on the refurbishment of Wright’s Fountainhead House describes this home as A Frank Lloyd Wright-designed house rooted in the landscape . . . with its low horizontal profile, native materials, open-plan interiors, and close relationship with the surrounding landscape . . . glazed corners and terraces strengthen the connection to the surrounding landscape. The images reveal the house in a clearing in a leafy, naturally treed context. Here one can see and feel the snug fit with place, its quiet, contemplative peace, respecting nature itself, leaving one to question the intention behind the words connect and landscape used by a profession that can apparently accommodate such disparate outcomes.

When the words can be used to justify/explain designs in this way, does one assume that offices are just too easily carried away with the hype of their own promotional material, happy to adopt the shrewd ambiguity of suggestive spin rather than presenting the actual experience of place, which is, for Libeskind’s project, a dense, designed, high-rise living complex, with Wright’s home displaying the more natural, romantic notion of ‘landscape connection’ that involves a feeling for natural place. The photographs accompanying the Libeskind promotional article illustrate some green ‘landscaped’ areas around a group of towers, with more clusters of towers in the distance. The reference to ‘landscape’ in the text seems to be to the ‘landscaped’ areas around the towers, the gardens, rather than to ‘landscape’ in any natural setting of any scale that seems to be alluded to. One might hope that, as a matter of course, the designed green, ‘landscaped’ areas around the towers would indeed relate to the whole of which they are a part rather than being perceived as something of an exceptional, broader context – ‘the landscape.’

The desire to link with the landscape expressed in these texts reveals how the same words can be used to describe diverse experiences/intentions. There is little wonder that the public remains so sceptical of architects and their whims when their explanations seek to accommodate such differences without clarification, comment, or apology: the intimacy of a Wright house with its cosy closeness to nature, the ‘organic’ connection, with subtle acknowledgements to the visions/writings of Sullivan and Thoreau, remains suggested, lingering in the Libeskind concept that, at its best, can be seen to refer to that observational remoteness in the “WOW!” that arises between a person and place when landscape as distant vistas is viewed from a high lookout, admired for its being there as a postcard/calendar image rather than as an intimate, lived, everyday involvement, experienced in all of its quiet, subtle richness; but all we have here in Seoul are more towers and the ‘landscaped’ surrounds that pretty the site up. Libeskind may have all the very best intentions, creating ‘interesting’ fluid amazements at ground level, but it is truly puzzling to try to understand just how this massive scheme might connect to anything experientially enriching as ‘the landscape’ that is suggested in the idea of this connection, other than as a matter of fact: Curving gardens will weave between the residential towers and extend over the roof of the lounge space, which has views across the nearby Yangjae Stream.

The words end up tripping over themselves when one seeks to point out that ‘landscape’ is not ‘landscape,’ and ‘experience’ is not ‘experience,’ making things easier to be left alone as an evocative, unresolved, fuzzy notion of ‘landscape.’ Tower living isolates folk from both place and each other, with chance meetings in lifts and foyers, and ‘landscaped’ garden areas that limit the possibility of any casual connection to others. These landscaped surrounds become the introductory/retreat areas designed to fill in the gaps around the towers - the curving gardens that weave between the residential towers. Any connection to ‘the landscape,’ understood as natural or developed countryside, seems purely a matter of looking from an elevated position, admiring distance; and the connection to sky is similar, and just as remote. Even a passenger on a flight has no relationship with the sky as a lived experience other than being in it, like those dwelling in these 49 storeys.

The article that suggested that architectural offices might do more with their PR staff than promote themselves – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2026/07/can-architectural-firms-do-more-than.html, seems too idealistic, because it seems to be just about impossible to get offices to manage their promotional material reasonably, without the exaggerated, suggestive visions that get published. The dream of any ‘connection to the landscape’ might be happily understood as revealed in Wright’s work, but to harness this romantic, nostalgic link to explain/justify something starkly different seems misguided – wrong, a living work of art or not.

THE REPORTS

https://www.dezeen.com/2026/07/15/daechi-ssangyong-studio-libeskind-seoul/

Studio Libeskind designs cluster of Seoul skyscrapers as “a living work of art.”

Amy Peacock

Architecture firm Studio Libeskind has unveiled designs for six skyscrapers set to form a residential complex in Seoul’s Gangnam district.

Studio Libeskind collaborated with local architecture studios Samoo and HJ Design Partners on the design for the Daechi Ssangyong redevelopment project, which aims to connect residents with the landscape.

The development is set to be built in Gangnam's Daechi-dong neighbourhood by Samsung Engineering and Construction Group, replacing five existing buildings on the site that contain 630 housing units.

Rising to 49 storeys, Daechi Ssangyong will comprise nearly 1,000 residences across six skyscrapers.

Light-toned vertical facade elements will create patterns of curving bands on the exterior of the towers, designed to offer changing views as people and the sun move around the buildings.

"Our ambition was to create more than a collection of residential towers," said Studio Libeskind founder Daniel Libeskind.

"We wanted to design a place that connects residents to the sky, the landscape, and one another," he continued. "The architecture changes with light and movement, creating a living work of art that celebrates both the beauty of Seoul and the experience of everyday life."

Renders show a sinuous lounge space on the ground floor, with glazed walls that curve around a public square and a circular water feature.

Curving gardens will weave between the residential towers and extend over the roof of the lounge space, which has views across the nearby Yangjae Stream.

"In collaboration with Studio Libeskind, we will redefine the standard for luxury residential living through a distinctive exterior design that emphasises architectural asymmetrical forms and dynamic forms," said Cheol Jin Lim, head of residential sales at Samsung Engineering and Construction Group.

Construction on Daechi Ssangyong is expected to commence at the start of 2027, with the aim of completing in 2030.

https://share.google/zADUdSulmsYAgSrGb

Belinda Stewart Architects to restore Fountainhead

The Mississippi Museum of Art (MMA) selects Belinda Stewart Architects to lead the preservation and restoration of Fountainhead, the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed residence in Jackson, Mississippi, acquired by the museum in November 2025. The project marks the next phase in transforming Wright’s only building in Mississippi into a publicly accessible house museum and event venue, with an anticipated opening in 2028.

Based in Eupora, Mississippi, Belinda Stewart Architects specializes in the preservation and adaptive reuse of historic buildings. The firm will prepare a comprehensive Historic Structure Report, including condition assessments, Historic Building Information Modeling (HBIM), and a phased conservation strategy. The appointment also includes architectural services for structural repairs, landscape rehabilitation, accessibility upgrades, and code compliance, balancing public access with the preservation of the property’s historic character.

A Frank Lloyd Wright-designed house rooted in the landscape

Originally designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1948 for J. Willis and Edith Hughes, the house was completed in 1955, six years after the architect finalized the plans. The 331-square-meter residence exemplifies Wright’s Usonian principles through its low horizontal profile, native materials, open-plan interiors, and close relationship with the surrounding landscape.

Fountainhead is organized around a distinctive Y-shaped plan that follows the topography of a nearly 4,000-square-meter site. Its diamond-shaped modular geometry is expressed throughout the architecture, from the layout and built-in furnishings to the detailing of walls and ceilings. Large expanses of glazing connect interior spaces to the wooded landscape, while original features, including Wright-designed furniture, perforated wooden shutters, skylights, concrete floors, terraces, three fireplaces, the original copper roof, and a fountain flowing into a swimming pool, remain integral to the property.

The residence later underwent an extensive restoration by architect Robert Parker Adams, who purchased the residence in 1980 and maintained it for decades. Following Adams’ death in 2025, the Mississippi Museum of Art acquired the property, drawing inspiration from museums such as Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, which similarly opened a Frank Lloyd Wright residence to the public. Investigative surveys and diagnostic testing are now underway as the preservation team begins documenting the building’s condition and developing a long-term restoration strategy before construction work proceeds.

THE PARADOX OF COUNTRY

The word country is used frequently and casually without complications, but do we know what ‘Country’ means? We have tried to probe this complexity previously -  see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2024/06/country-outside-inside-place.html - but the phenomenon still remains an enigma to our everyday perceptions; an alien circumstance, a vague notion that we are told is not only meaningful, but also critically vital to the everyday wellbeing of the First Nations people. The concept is wielded around to justify and support almost all the claims made by this portion of the Australian population as it fights for its rights. Sadly, the situation is not helped by publications like The First Inventors, (Allen & Unwin, 2026), Billy Griffiths, Larissa Behrendt and Sean Ulm, that use 'Country' with a capital 'C' whenever it turns up in the text. Whether this word is referring merely to country as landscape, location, or real estate, or to some mystic, spiritual understanding of story, song, or dance, it is always printed with the capital.*

The proposition is that this general, 'grab all' reference to/recognition of the land in all of the various aspects that this term relates to in different contexts, only confuses the ordinary understanding of this complex experience.

One could argue that everything is referred to with the big ‘C’ because everything in this relationship with land and place is integrated into a rich and complex wholeness, a position confirmed in the previous analysis. The concern is that the failure to differentiate ‘c’ and ‘C’ only promotes a confusion in the thinking about these matters, dragging things spiritual down into the dregs of the ordinary, rather than vice versa, allowing them to be mocked and dismissed.

The proposition is that this belittling only demeans ‘Country,’ with what appears as a grand claim for perceived ordinariness that stimulates the perception that the 'knowledge' being claimed is merely a cultural hoax, a fabricated phantom, a position that is only encouraged by the social problems in some First Nation communities.

So it seems that, ironic though it might appear, the special circumstances of ‘Country’ would be better respected and reinforced by fragmenting the wholeness of the experience so that the Western mind might be able to identify the difference between say, harvesting food from, walking on, or burning 'country,' as in countryside or land, and acknowledging the spiritual ancestors, (the 'Old People' referred to in The First Inventors), or stories of place in ‘Country,’ even though the act of harvesting and burning land might involve the care of recognition of spirits as well as being a practical everyday occasion. As is noted in this publication, burning is not a clearing act alone. p.73: Fuel reduction was not an end in itself, but a colonial paradigm in which fire is seen as fundamentally bad.

By identifying this duality, the outsider might be better able to come to know how the two aspects might co-exist in the one; such is the nature of the rational, analytical mind that holds by definition and necessity, a natural dualism in the differentiation of black and white in order to gauge some sense of 'between.' That everything becomes ‘Country’ is seen by this diagnostic thinking as one pretentious, fanciful, amorphous muddle that is simply claiming too much to be taken seriously.

So the suggestion is that ‘c’ and ‘C’ be used in their proper places, with the argument of wholeness being left as another step in the understanding of ‘Country,' that embodiment of meaning in the everyday that encompasses the richness of a living and lived symbolism, forming and framing a context for this referencing rather than leaving it as an amorphous, apparently meaningful mystery in everything as a matter of course, because that's how 'we,' as First Nations people who know, see things. The West defines the sacred and the profane as a stark difference. Asking this perception to be changed establishes a difficult challenge that frustrates and alienates; confusing matters with a doubting puzzlement.

By fragmenting the aboriginal experience, the Western mind might come to appreciate this oneness rather than being forced into the position from the other direction that demands prior knowledge or blind acceptance.

There is something irrational in wanting to emphasise the fragmentation of wholeness, its integrity, when one is seeking to understand the vital complexity of the oneness of the experience being identified, but sometimes we need to pull things apart in order to better understand the relationships between the bits and pieces involved; such is the scientific method. We have Karl Popper's  conjectures and refutation; right and wrong; black and white, being used to understand all and everything (c.f. Guidjieff).

Calling everything ‘Country’ is correct and proper, but reads as promoting a bold, somewhat cocky position that stimulates a negative perception of pomposity by being read cynically as claiming just too much, too easily, too casually, perhaps for social, financial, and political gain rather than for any clarification or identification of experience.

There is the complication that this wholeness is essentially something that cannot be told. Tradition notes that if it could be told, it would have been. The best we can do in the effort to comprehend this mystery is to talk about it; point to it, as in the Zen notion of the finger pointing to the moon. This involves attempting to communicate with another. What we have to understand is that we need to think about the method, and use language and analysis that can be meaningful. Writing ‘Country’ for every context is like using a foreign language to explain a phenomenon. One needs to understand the other's perception of things if there is any chance that a position might be comprehended, let alone respected. Tolerance needs to be shown by everyone. Bland, undifferentiated claims for ‘Country’ do not help.

The argument is that there needs to be a clear difference between what the Western mind would call ‘country,’ and the reference to the mystical life of the aboriginal that relates to ‘Country.’#

Yes, we know it is all one, but we are not going to convince the questioning rationalist with the subtle vision without spelling things out as clearly and diagrammatically as might be possible while being careful not to destroy the wholeness of the spirit experience of ‘country’ named ‘Country.’

*
There is one quote in this book that refers to ‘country’ with a small ‘c’ when it does not start a sentence, suggesting that it is not using the special capital ‘C’ reference - see p.153:

Country is loved, needed, and cared for, and country loves, needs, and cares for her peoples in turn.

 - and there is another quote that uses the small ‘c’ on p.189:

. . . daughters, nieces and granddaughters can strengthen their ties and connection to country.

#

One is tempted to add: as with songlines. This concept lingers with an uncertainty, even in The First Inventors where the suggestion is that these are merely lines in songs that tell the stories about ‘Country’ - what we might call lyrics. The reference to ‘Country’ in this explanation only complicates any clarity with further murky unknowns. Yet there is the sense that much more is involved. We need an approach to this matter that adopts much the same strategy as that suggested for ‘Country.’ It is not useful to leave these things in a vague, feel-good, 'meaningful' muddle.

NOTE

In The First Inventors, p.181, the text on the black bean tree refers to songlines as though they are merely lines of a song that records a story:

It appears that people not only transformed these mountainous rainforest environments through deliberate planting strategies in the deep past, but they preserved a record of this practice in their ceremonial song archive and memory.

CAN ARCHITECTURAL FIRMS DO MORE THAN PROMOTE THEMSELVES?

https://www.archpaper.com/2026/06/large-architecture-firms-promote-themselves/

This article by Sean Joyner outlines how architectural firms today have large PR sections that promote them office, and suggests that they might better use these advertising sections to explain the impact of architecture on the community in the hope that a better and more informed public will mean improved architectural and planning outcomes for all. Might this be possible?

One knows about the promotional material produced by architectural firms as one is in presented with examples of this blurb every day, with projects published along with the note: photographs and text provided by the architect. The texts usually appear to struggle to include every exotic word and concept possible - in order to sound learned? - see, e.g.: https://architectureau.com/articles/the-forest-by-woods-bagot/; the New Farm project: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2026/05/greenlit-new-farm-rainforest.html; and Heatherwick: https://www.dezeen.com/2026/06/19/alula-manara-space-observatory-heatherwick-studio-saudi-arabia/ - with what looks like an attempt to prove the quality of the work, and justify its appearance/resolution, suggesting that there is a rich depth of thought and feeling that lies behind its making. This approach has been critiqued, but it continues.

Sean Joyner’s argument is persuasive and interesting. He notes that while the PR sections of architectural firms will never be critical, because the idea is always to create a particular office image and reputation in order to get jobs, there could be a role for these promotional teams to adopt a different approach that might highlight the impact of architecture on everyday life, and, in this way, educate both those who employ architects, and the general public, in the hope of providing a better appreciation of the profession and its ‘real-life,’ everyday benefits that go unnoticed.

One recalls that some years ago, there was a fad that encouraged what was then called Post Occupancy Evaluations, or POEs. These were formal reviews of projects undertaken a year or so after completion in order to report on what has worked and what hasn’t, involving general inspections and discussions with the stakeholders, with the idea being that issues, problems, and failures could all be recorded and acted upon. It could be said to work on the basis of learning from one’s mistakes and successes. It was a feedback idea that sought to improve real outcomes in the future. Alas, as with all of these fads – remember the hoo-ha about QA, Quality Assurance, with the regular, documented workplace meetings, formal, third party file inspections, and frequent reports?# - POEs fell out of fashion, with this expertise morphing into the distraction of some newer computing or practice/management matter; but what Joyner seems to be suggesting is just what POEs sought to achieve, without the bad bits being publicised.

Could firms actually produce such studies for the public to read, understand, and be ‘educated’? Considering the current output, one could easily see such a transformation taking place, but alas, one fears that this might only be a reorientation of the current thrust of the hyped texts. Might any firm fund something less than or different to the current promotional material, no matter the subject or the format, and the public benefit? It might sound well-meaning and idealistic, but promotion material always seeks the same outcome irrespective of the means. A truly independent third party needs to be involved here if this outcome is to bear fruit.

What remains important is critical review. We cannot really trust firms to articulate what is effectively a POE that might not reveal its ‘genius.’ Such an approach will very likely only be more of the same of what we are getting today – look how clever we are/have been! What is necessary is critical review. As with POEs, such reviews always need to be carried out by others. In the world of commerce, self-regulation has nearly always shown to be a weakness, or to have a lack tenacity and candour. We need reviews of projects that can highlight the impacts of architecture in a way that can reveal both the good and the bad qualities; the successes and the failures, if we are to maintain a rigour in thinking about future possibilities.

Without this, we are indulging in a world of ‘positive thinking’ that has only been shown to engage in the promotion of fake matters for the feel-good outcomes desired, using spin to muddle realities into phantoms of perception that only fabricate false hope. Criticism needs to be clear, unedited, and honest if it is to be useful. One cannot really expect anything but positive glories from any architectural firm. The problem is that even publishers today fear tough criticism for its impacts on distribution and sales, as commerce shapes its own preferences and ambitions to suit itself.

Without good criticism, we are lost in a void of hopeful, misguided fancy, spun into what we are led to believe are reasoned and reasonable presentations. Accepting the latter outcome causes us unknown and undocumented complexities that cloud understanding with misguided, mangled muddles and messes that manufacture only maladies.

#

. . . and the time and money spent on the Y2K fad that predicted 'the end of the world'?

AI Overview

Y2K originally referred to the "Year 2000" computer bug, a widespread technical flaw where older systems abbreviated four-digit years to two digits, risking critical data corruption. Today, the term is also widely used to describe the nostalgic fashion, design, and cultural aesthetics of the late 1990s and early 2000s.