The 17th-century frescoes and antique mirrors should immediately tip visitors off: This showroom has something it needs to say. Palazzo Durini Caproni di Taliedo is a historic building in Milan, designed and built in the mid-1600s by Baroque architect Francesco Maria Richini. Among many other monumental works and churches, he also designed Milan’s Palazzo di Brera, which currently includes the Pinacoteca di Brera museum. The Palazzo Durini Caproni di Taliedo was commissioned by the heir to the Durinis, a wealthy merchant family.Today the palazzo is furniture showroom as palimpsest. Since 2021, Edra has exhibited collaborations with supremely contemporary designers, including the Campana brothers, Jacopo Foggini, and Francesco Binfaré, amid the restored Baroque grandeur.Courtesy Edra.Palazzo Durini in the 1920s, when the famed Italian aircraft designer and aeronautical engineer Giovanni Battista Caproni used it as an office.Walking through the rooms, one might imagine the visitors who could have lounged on an Edra “On the Rocks” sofa at one time or another in the history of this place: Giovanni Battista Caproni, the Italian count and aeronautical engineer who lived and worked in the building for more than 40 years? Soccer sensation Ronaldo, who caused a near riot when he visited the palazzo during its Inter Football Club era, when the sports association’s offices were located here? Or could it be iconic designer Gio Ponti, who is said to have drawn that gilded Art Deco bathroom with green terrazzo floors in the back?One palazzo, so many lives. ◾Top Image: Palazzo Durini now, in its Edra showroom era. The frescoes may be 17th-century, but the furniture is the 2021 A’mare collection by Jacopo Foggini.This story originally appeared in the Summer 2025 issue of Elle Decor. SUBSCRIBEStellene VolandesEditor In ChiefEditor-in-Chief Stellene Volandes is a jewelry expert, and the author of Jeweler: Masters and Mavericks of Modern Design (Rizzoli).

The duo will create a ball sports arena for local teams and the wider community, providing a new public square and gateway to an exhibition park in České Budějovice, a city 120km south of Prague. Inspired by the Möbius strip – a continuous surface with only one side and one edge – the winning design aims to reflect ‘energy, unity, and perpetual motion’ and serve as a catalyst for positive transformation in České Budějovice. WilkinsonEyre board director Sam Wright said: ‘We are thrilled to have been selected for this exciting project, which presents a unique opportunity to build on our design expertise and passion for sports architecture.Advertisement ‘We look forward to collaborating with our partners to create a world-class venue that inspires both athletes and spectators alike.’ Boele founding director Petr Suma, who has worked at both WilkinsonEyre and London-based William Matthews Architects, said: ‘By revitalising and redefining the southern entrance to the České Budějovice Exhibition Grounds, this project creates a catalyst for new development on the left bank of České Budějovice.’ Though the arena is primarily for volleyball, it will also host a range of ball sports, including handball, floorball, basketball and futsal, as well as concerts and conferences. The winning proposal was selected unanimously from 29 entries, and construction is expected to begin next year. České Budějovice is a major industrial centre with around 96,000 residents. Local landmarks include the Budweiser Budvar Brewery, the Baroque-style Museum of South Bohemia and the Neo-Gothic Church of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary.Advertisement A separate contest to remasterplan České Budějovice was launched early last year.

Nichols Canyon cuts through the south side of the Hollywood Hills, stretching from Hollywood Boulevard in the south up to Mulholland Drive in the north. Made famous by David Hockney, whose 1980 painting of the canyon sold for just over $41M in 2020, the area remains a thriving artist's community. What better place for Elle Decor A-List designer Oliver Furth to build a "creative cottage" for his partner, The Culture Creative founder Sean Yashar?Furth and Yashar, who've been together 14 years, met in the industry and purchased their home 7 years ago. When the lot next door—a pines-filled acre with a tiny house on it—came up for sale, the couple jumped at the chance to buy. "Anyone else would've torn it down and built something bigger," says Furth. "We replaced the windows and redid the kitchen and bathrooms, but we leaned into its size." Now drenched in Yashar's signature "eau de nil" pastel tones, the cottage embraces the character of its original 1940s structure while serving as a cutting-edge space for creativity.Kort HavensIn the sitting room, a Philippe Starck chrome side table from the original Royalton Hotel, from 1988, holds a place of pride with a group of Peter Shire and Ron Arad vintage chairs and a Rachel Shillander pyramidal lamp. Art includes greats of LA’s past and present: a Laddie John Dill mixed media, a Sam Falls tapestry, a Tom Holland metal relief, and a Strauss Bourque-LaFrance painting."All of my work is really portraiture." —Oliver Furth"My clients are all muses to me," says Yashar, who provides consulting services for designers. "I have to be a good listener and understand who the client is and how they connect to decorative arts history, so I spend a lot of time researching. How else can I be an authority?"To that end, the space is designed to provide a moment to reflect and the fodder to rev into high gear in equal measures; to facilitate rest as much as the chance to recharge. Following in the footsteps of Albert Hadley and Tony Duquette (who once declared malachite a neutral), Furth color-drenched the space in a mint green. "That color is the envelope—that's what I call it," says Furth. "We kept it very tight by lacquering the floors, the walls, and the ceiling in that color. Even the cabinetry and the appliances are in that mint. It allows us to have this object-driven interior space by unifying everything with color."Kort HavensA vintage Joe D’Urso for Knoll desk, Sam Maloof desk chair, Christopher Prinz stool and felt-clad speaker by Studio AHEAD create a sleek composition under an Ingo Mauer chandelier in the office. Art includes a triptych of photographs by David Benjamin Sherry, and framed magazine ads from Yashar’s parents’ furniture store, Moda Italia, from 1990.The seafoam hue unites not only the interior, but also decades of decorative history: Yashar found that the architect Paul Williams, who worked in LA in the 1940's and 50's, used a similar shade in many projects. "There's a lot of history and narrative within this color that maybe not everyone will be able to know, but hopefully everyone can feel," says Yashar. Clocking in at roughly 1,000-square-feet, the interior is now a mixture of millennial aesthetics, showcasing Yashar's love for design culture icons like Mario Buatta and Saul Bass. The entry sets the tone with its metal-and-glass Dutch door. A mixed-use meeting room offers a blend of contrasts, from Buatta-inspired shades in a Dickies-esque khaki twill to antique Chippendale chairs juxtaposed with 1990s Marc Newson tables. "All of my work is really portraiture," says Furth, "so this was an opportunity to help create this sort of portrait of Sean and his business." "Sometimes things just resonate...you just know when it's right." —Sean YasharThe sitting room features iconic design pieces, including a worn black leather sofa from the 1980s and a Philippe Starck table from the Royalton Hotel. Peter Shire and Ron Arad chairs are paired with conceptual furniture inspired by Dan Friedman. The kitchen celebrates postwar and ’80s influences with Smeg appliances and works by Soft Baroque and Patrick Nagel, grounded by a custom table from Studio MUKA. "A lot of people know me for my interest in eighties and nineties design culture," says Yashar. "But when I think eighties or nineties, I don't think of one thing. I don't want to choose. So I want to have Joe D'Urso high-tech track lighting, and I want it against these Mario Buatta-style balloon shades. I like that duality."Outside, a Persian-inspired courtyard nods to Yashar's heritage while offering dining and lounging areas that showcase rare 1980s furniture, including a Peter Lane ceramic table and one-off mint-colored Richard Schultz seating. The courtyard’s natural and faux vine murals create a satirical trompe-l’oeil effect, celebrating real-versus-virtual artistry. "I think we're both big believers in feeling," says Yashar. "Sometimes things just resonate. You can't really put your finger on it, but you just know that it's right."Sean SantiagoDeputy EditorSean Santiago is ELLE Decor's Deputy Editor, covering news, trends and talents in interior design, hospitality and travel, culture, and luxury shopping. Since starting his career at an interior design firm in 2011, he has gone on to cover the industry for Vogue, Architectural Digest, Sight Unseen, PIN-UP and Domino. He is the author of The Lonny Home (Weldon Owens, 2018), has produced scripted social content for brands including West Elm and Streeteasy, and is sometimes recognized on the street for his Instagram Reels series, #DanceToDecor

The tower takes shape as two sets of overlapping cylinders, clad with prefabricated panels intended to evoke clouds. PROJECT The Butterfly + First Baptist Church Complex ARCHITECT Revery Architecture PHOTOS Ema Peter When you fly into Vancouver, the most prominent structure in the city’s forest of glass skyscrapers is now a 57-storey edifice known as the Butterfly. Designed by Revery Architecture, the luxury residential tower is the latest in a string of high-rises that pop out of the city’s backdrop of generic window-wall façades.  The Butterfly’s striking form evolved over many years, beginning with studies dating back to 2012. Revery principal Venelin Kokalov imagined several options, most of them suggesting a distinct pair of architectural forms in dialogue. Renderings and models of the early concepts relay a wealth of imagination that is sorely missing from much of the city’s contemporary architecture, as land economics, zoning issues, and the profit motive often compel a default into generic glass-and-steel towers. The earliest concepts look starkly different—some evoke the Ginger and Fred building in Prague (Frank Gehry with Vlado Milunić, 1996); others the Absolute Towers in Mississauga (MAD with Burka Varacalli Architects, 2009). But one consistent theme runs through the design evolution: a sense of two Rilkean solitudes, touching.  On each floor, semi-private sky gardens offer an outdoor place for residents to socialize. Client feedback, engineering studies, and simple pragmatics led to the final form: two sets of overlapping cylinders linked by a common breezeway and flanked by a rental apartment on one side and a restored church doubling as a community centre on the other. The contours of the floorplan are visually organic: evocative of human cells dividing. The roundness of the main massing is complemented by curvilinear balustrades that smoothly transform into the outer walls of each unit. It’s an eye-catching counterpoint to the orthogonality of the city’s built landscape. The two adjacent buildings—built, restored, and expanded as part of a density bonus arrangement with the city—help integrate this gargantuan structure with the lower-rise neighbourhood around it.  The Butterfly is a high-end, high-priced residential tower—one of the few typologies in which clients and communities are now willing to invest big money and resources in creative, visually astonishing architecture. That leads to a fundamental question: what is the public purpose of a luxury condo tower?  A public galleria joins the renovated First Baptist Church to the new building. Serving as a welcoming atrium, it allows for community access to the expanded church, including its daycare, full gymnasium, multi-purpose rooms, overnight emergency shelter, and community dining hall equipped with a commercial kitchen. Whatever one feels about the widening divide between the haves and have-nots in our big cities, this building—like its ilk—does serve several important public purposes. The most direct and quantifiable benefits are the two flanking buildings, also designed by Revery and part of the larger project. The seven-storey rental apartment provides a modest contribution to the city’s dearth of mid-priced housing. The superbly restored and seismically upgraded First Baptist Church has expanded into the area between the new tower and original church, and now offers the public a wider array of programming including a gymnasium, childcare facility, and areas for emergency shelter and counselling services for individuals in need.  The church’s Pinder Hall has been reimagined as a venue for church and community events including concerts, weddings, and cultural programming. The Butterfly’s character is largely defined by undulating precast concrete panels that wrap around the building. The architects describe the swooping lines as being inspired by clouds, but for this writer, the Butterfly evokes a 57-layer frosted cake towering above the city’s boxy skyline. Kokalov winces when he hears that impression, but it’s meant as a sincere compliment. Clouds are not universally welcome, but who doesn’t like cake?  Kokalov argues that its experiential quality is the building’s greatest distinction—most notably, the incorporation of an “outdoors”—not a balcony or deck, but an actual outdoor pathway—at all residential levels. For years the lead form-maker at Bing Thom Architects, Kokalov was responsible for much of the curvilinearity in the firm’s later works, including the 2019 Xiqu Centre opera house in Hong Kong. It’s easy to assume that his forte and focus would be pure aesthetic delight, but he avers that every sinuous curve has a practical rationale.  The breezeways provide residents with outdoor entries to their units—an unusual attribute for high-rise towers—and contribute to natural cooling, ventilation, and daylight in the suites. Defying the local tower-on-podium formula, the building’s façade falls almost straight to the ground. At street level, the building is indented with huge parabolic concavities. It’s an abrupt way to meet the street, but the fall is visually “broken” by a publicly accessible courtyard.   The tower’s layered, undulating volume is echoed in a soaring residential lobby, which includes developer Westbank’s signature—a bespoke Fazioli grand piano designed by the building’s architect. After passing through this courtyard, you enter the building via the usual indoor luxe foyer—complete with developer Westbank’s signature, an over-the-top hand-built grand piano designed by the architect. In this case, the piano’s baroquely sculpted legs are right in keeping with the architecture. But after taking the elevator up to the designated floor, you step out into what is technically “outdoors” and walk to your front door in a brief but bracing open-air transition.  The main entrance of every unit is accessed via a breezeway that runs from one side of the building to another. Unglazed and open to the outside, each breezeway is marked at one end with what the architects call (a little ambitiously) a “sky garden,” in most cases consisting of a sapling that will grow into a leafy tree in due course, God and strata maintenance willing. This incorporation of nature and fresh air transforms the condominium units into something akin to townhouses, albeit stacked exceptionally high.  The suites feature a custom counter with a sculptural folded form. Inside each unit, the space can be expanded and contracted and reconfigured visually—not literally—by the fact that the interior wall of the secondary bedroom is completely transparent, floor to ceiling. It’s unusual, and slightly unnerving, but undeniably exciting for any occupants who wish to maximize their views to the mountains and sea. The curved glass wall transforms the room into a private enclave by means of a curtain, futuristically activated by remote control. The visual delight of swooping curves is only tempered when it’s wholly impractical—the offender here being a massive built-in counter that serves to both anchor and divide the living-kitchen areas. It reads as a long, pliable slab that is “folded” into the middle in such a way that the counter itself transforms into its own horseshoe-shaped base, creating a narrow crevice in the middle of the countertop. I marvel at its beauty and uniqueness; I weep for whoever is assigned to clean out the crumbs and other culinary flotsam that will fall into that crevice.  A structure made of high-performance modular precast concrete structural ribs arcs over a swimming pool that bridges between the building’s main amenity space and the podium roof. The building’s high-priced architecture may well bring more to the table than density-bonus amenities. On a broader scale, these luxe dwellings may be just what is needed to help lure the affluent from their mansions. As wealthy residents and investors continue to seek out land-hogging detached homes, the Butterfly offers an alternate concept that maintains the psychological benefit of a dedicated outside entrance and an outrageously flexible interior space. Further over-the-top amenities add to the appeal. Prominent among these is a supremely gorgeous residents-only swimming pool, housed within ribs of concrete columns that curve and dovetail into beams.   The ultimate public purpose for the architecturally spectacular condo tower: its role as public art in the city. The units in any of these buildings are the private side of architecture’s Janus face, but its presence in the skyline and on the street is highly public. By contributing a newly striking visual ballast, the Butterfly has served its purpose as one of the age-old Seven Arts: defining a location, a community, and an era. Adele Weder is a contributing editor to Canadian Architect. Screenshot CLIENT Westbank Corporation, First Baptist Church | ARCHITECT TEAM Venelin Kokalov (MRAIC), Bing Thom (FRAIC, deceased 2016), Amirali Javidan, Nicole Hu, Shinobu Homma MRAIC, Bibi Fehr, Culum Osborne, Dustin Yee, Cody Loeffen, Kailey O’Farrell, Mark Melnichuk, Andrea Flynn, Jennifer Zhang, Daniel Gasser, Zhuoli Yang, Lisa Potopsingh | STRUCTURAL Glotman Simpson | MECHANICAL Introba | ELECTRICAL Nemetz & Associates, Inc. | LANDSCAPE SWA Group (Design) w/ Cornelia Oberlander & G|ALA – Gauthier & Associates Landscape Architecture, Inc. (Landscape Architect of Record) | INTERIORS Revery Architecture | CONTRACTOR Icon West Construction (new construction); The Haebler Group (heritage) | LIGHTING ARUP (Design) & Nemetz (Engineer of Record) | SUSTAINABILITY & ENERGY MODELlING Introba | BUILDING ENVELOPE RDH Building Science, Inc. | HERITAGE CONSERVATION Donald Luxton & Associates, Inc.| ACOUSTICS BKL Consultants Ltd. | TRAFFIC Bunt & Associates, Inc. | POOL Rockingham Pool Consulting, Inc. | FOUNTAIN Vincent Helton & Associates | WIND Gradient Wind Engineering, Inc. | WASTE CONSULTANT Target Zero Waste Consulting, Inc. | AREA 56,206 M2 | BUDGET Withheld | COMPLETION Spring 2025 ENERGY USE INTENSITY (PROJECTED) 106 kWh/m2/year | WATER USE INTENSITY (PROJECTED) 0.72 m3/m2/year As appeared in the June 2025 issue of Canadian Architect magazine The post The Butterfly takes flight: The Butterfly, Vancouver, BC appeared first on Canadian Architect.

Water coolers are truly social areas. Places of gossip, leisure, and just decompressing from a long bout of working. So why is it that these coolers then look so utilitarian, so non-social? Designer Moreno Schweikle decided to give the humble cooler a visual upgrade, taking hints from popular cultural spots and hubs, dipping into Baroque and Neoclassical themes. The result? Water coolers that look like legitimate landmarks. Styled to resemble gorgeous fountains seen in city squares. Created as a part of Balenciaga’s ‘Art In Stores’ initiative, these coolers can be found in select Balenciaga outlets scattered across the world. The Art In Stores project sees the fashion brand partnering with a variety of artists like Anna-Sophie Berger, Cayetano Ferrer, Nicole Wermers, Harry Nuriev, and Tobias Spichtig to name a few. Designer: Moreno Schweikle Morena’s pieces reimagine the water cooler entirely. The cooler’s blockish form gets turned into a Roman pillar with fountains on the side, as well as on top along with a crowning Cupid-esque statuette. The water circulates between these multiple fountains (as well as the standard taps on the front). The beauty in Morena’s sculptures lies in the fact that they still utilize color schemes similar to those of a water cooler. Opaque white blocks or sheet metal blocks, with tinted blue transparent elements on top, resembling the same plastic found in water cans that mount vertically onto traditional coolers. There’s immense attention to detail, as well as a brilliant balance between industrial and cultural themes. You look at Morena’s Spring Coolers and they look just like coolers, however, they’re different enough to wow you, and enchanting with the way they treat detail and water flow. Here, the sculpture has multiple water streams on top, shooting inside a bowl that feels rather fountain-like. The water then travels down the upper bowl, and out through a series of statuettes tipping over water pots. The fountains have layers seen in the kind you’d find dotted across European cities and cultural hubs. Even in being traditional, like the simple three-tiered fountain below, Morena finds ways to make details shine. The supports below the blue fountain elements have neoclassical stylings, looking enchantingly antique while still being your mundane, contemporary water cooler. Notably though, these coolers aren’t meant to drink out of. They’re purely statement pieces, designed to work as art sculptures that circulate water through a closed loop. The tinted blue sculptures are made from PLA and PU resin, which aren’t food grade. They’re likely 3D printed and then finished in an acetone bath to give them the glossy marble-like texture seen on most actual fountains. That means the water is likely not suited for consumption – it does, however, make for a great statement piece – that’s if you’re rich (or confident) enough to step into a Balenciaga showroom! The post Balenciaga’s Water Coolers Look Like Roman Fountains Designed For Palaces, Not Offices first appeared on Yanko Design.

At CES 2025, NVIDIA presented Zorah, a revolutionary RTX neural rendering tech demo that showcases the latest advancements in geometry, lighting, and character rendering, all built with Unreal Engine 5.From the beginning, the vision was to create an environment that felt grounded and believable yet unique enough to serve as a foundation for a fantasy world. Inspired by Baroque architecture and cinematic references, artists at Lightspeed Studios blended intricate details and historical elements into a unified, immersive setting, working hand-in-hand with technical teams."With the fidelity now achievable, our team focused on micro details that enhance realism both from afar and up close. We wanted every corner of the environment to surprise and engage viewers. As such, every asset in the project went through Adobe Substance 3D Painter, Designer, or Photoshop at some point during production."Enjoy a collection of concept art, props, materials, and more, brought to life by the incredible art team behind Zorah:See more here and join our 80 Level Talent platform and our new Discord server, follow us on Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, Telegram, TikTok, and Threads, where we share breakdowns, the latest news, awesome artworks, and more.

Got a project that’s too bold to build? Submit your conceptual works, images and ideas for global recognition and print publication in the 2025 Vision Awards! The Main Entry deadline of June 6th is fast approach — submit your work today. To match or not to match? This dilemma has always been a burden for architects when designing extensions for listed buildings. Perhaps one of the most famous examples of a clashing extension and a listed building was Daniel Libeskind’s design for the Military History Museum in Dresden. Both praised and criticized by many, the modern extension aimed at spatially expressing Germany’s violent history. The architecture was characterized as “insensitive and inconsiderate” as well as “brave and bonkers.” Regardless of whether this specific architectural project was “the right move or not,” it poses a somewhat eternal architectural question: how should architects approach listed buildings, which oftentimes carry an immense amount of history and emotional resonance? The following seven projects reveal several tactics of dealing with delicate pieces of cultural heritage, while adding a new building extension to the mix. Aalt Stadhaus Differdange By witry & witry architecture urbanisme, Differdange, Luxembourg The existing building dates back from 1847, situated in between Church Notre-Dame-des Douleurs (which was torn down) and the local town hall. The project aim was to create a new urban landmark for Differdange. Long filigree columns were used along the west façade to create an interplay between old and new architectural elements that create a harmonic ensemble. In parallel, curated material choices such as tiles and wooden floors merge the two interiors crafting a coherent atmosphere. Void Practice Rooms By John McAslan + Partners,  London, United Kingdom Surrounded by three listed buildings, the Void acts as an extension for the Royal Academy of Music (RAM), hosting a general music practice room, an opera practice room and a new multifunctional RAM space. Preserving the overall aesthetic of the site, the Void Building’s structure and materiality draws from its historic context and internal functions. Specifically, the characteristic red brick and Baroque stone trimmings serve as an inspiration to the modern albeit contextually harmonious extension. Felix-Nussbaum-Haus Extension By Studio Libeskind, Osnabrück, Germany The Felix Nussbaum Haus was originally designed by Daniel Libeskind and was completed in 1998. The new extension, also designed by Libeskind in May 2011, provides an entrance hall to the museum, a new shop and a learning center. The design completely contradicts the existing structure and is comprised of a glass bridge that acts as a gateway. Through the specific colors and materials, the extension “blends” with both museums. The grey plaster provides a stark contrast to the Kunstgeschichtliche Museum and the Akzisehaus, while anthracite colored frames accentuate the series of openings. Additionally, the façade acts as a screen that carefully frames the geometries of the Museum openings, resulting in a grid that guides the overall composition. Marecollege By 24H-architecture, Leiden, The Netherlands Inspired by the school’s philosophical discourse, the concept for the new building extensions was derived from the anthroposophical philosophy, which claims that scientific theory does not describe reality, but the relations which belong to reality. The new building aimed at spatially recreating this theory through lemniscates. This intricate geometry becomes the heart of the design, accommodating many social spaces, auditoriums and a cafeteria. The new façade is as solid as its neighbor, made however out of grey masonry walls. Extension to the Historisches Museum By :mlzd, Bern, Switzerland The extension to the Historical Museum Bern, built by André Lambert in 1894, is composed by two distinct elements: a 1000m2 temporary exhibition hall located beneath a new civic square and a monolithic six story block along the southern side of the site that houses the Bern city archives, offices and a library. Architecturally, the structure interchanges between solid and transparent façades. Specifically, towards the square the building acts as a glazed modernist curtain wall that reveals all the activities that occur in its interior, while the south façade is made of solid, cast concrete punctured by small random openings. Rehabilitation and Extension of the Colani-UFO with shaft hall By SSP AG, Lünen, Germany In the technology centre of Lünen, over a former coal mine factory, hovers a  unique type of “UFO” building. Designed in 1985 by Luigi Colani the “UFO” has become a well-known landmark to the area, thus instigating a rejuvenation approach by the Academy of Applied Science center. The primary idea was to integrate the “UFO,” the shaft and the underlying building with a new extension, turning them into a multifunctional complex able to cater for a wide variety of venues. The design preserved that industrial charm of existing buildings, while maintaining a rather subtle form in comparison to the rest of the heterogenous buildings on site. Particularly the dark monolithic façade becomes a “quiet pause” in a somewhat complex and stimulating urban context. Museum De Fundatie By Bierman Henket architecten,  Zwolle, Netherlands Museum De Fundatie in Zwolle is situated on the border between the mediaeval city center and the open 19th century parkland and its canals. The new extension is a spectacular circular volume placed in the roof of the former Palace of Justice. The structure aesthetically contrasts the medieval façade of Blijmarkt, while however complimenting functionally the museum, acting as a new entrance. The extension – also called the Art Cloud – follows the substructure’s logic by being symmetrical in two directions, thus establishing a new identity for the complex’s urban presence. Its façade is clad with 55,000 three-dimensional ceramic elements, forming a “shimmering” surface that breaks down the original building’s solidity. Got a project that’s too bold to build? Submit your conceptual works, images and ideas for global recognition and print publication in the 2025 Vision Awards! The Main Entry deadline of June 6th is fast approach — submit your work today. Featured Image: Extension to the Historisches Museum by :mlzd, Bern, Switzerland The post Bold Meets Old: 7 Architectural Extensions that Clash with History appeared first on Journal.

Warning: contains spoilers for Doctor Who episode “The Interstellar Song Contest” The Doctor and Belinda find themselves on Harmony Arena during the 803rd Interstellar Song Contest. But an evening of camp cosmic fun becomes a nightmare when horned aliens take over the space station – and the Doctor starts having strange visions. Spoilers ahoy. With “The Interstellar Song Contest”, Doctor Who might have given us its most blatantly self-selecting episode ever. When you hear the description ‘episode set during the Interstellar Song Contest featuring Rylan as himself’, you probably already know, broadly, whether it’s going to gel with your sensibilities. This puts a reviewer in a somewhat tricky position. I try as much as possible to take every episode on its own terms, and I’m very much of the view that Doctor Who contains more multitudes than most TV series, so there is always a place in the show for big, silly, populist spectacle. That being said, this is probably the episode I was looking forward to the least this season. I have no affection for the Eurovision Song Contest, especially in recent years. And while Rylan and Graham Norton admittedly acquit themselves pretty well here, as with the first Russell T Davies era, the showrunner’s enthusiastic engagement with contemporary TV and British celebrity culture can feel awkward, even slightly cringeworthy. Not only does it instantly date things, but it actually makes it harder to suspend disbelief and engage with the stories – having the likes of Davina McCall doing their familiar schtick puts the show that much closer to our reality, which I find just makes me ask questions I don’t want to be asking. All that being said, the idea of Rylan being frozen in stasis and unfrozen every year to host the Interstellar Song Contest is… kind of delightful. So, in conclusion, “The Interstellar Song Contest” is a land of contrasts. Actually, Bart Simpson’s immortal line has rarely felt more apropos. There is a lot going on here, arguably too much. Writer Juno Dawson has said that Davies pitched the concept as ‘Eurovision meets Die Hard’, with disaster movie elements, and the episode broadly fulfils that brief – it’s a perfectly workable concept, and if it had simply been allowed to be that, it might have hung together more cohesively. Ironically enough, the Eurovision / Rylan parts of the episode broadly work. It’s some of the other elements that unbalance proceedings, and while it’s pointless to speculate about which ideas were Dawson’s and which were imposed by upper management, it’s hard to believe that a guest writer would have been allowed to independently include the first appearance of Carol Anne Ford as Susan Foreman in proper mainline continuity televised Doctor Who since 1983. The Doctor’s sudden, unexplained visions of his long lost granddaughter are an absolutely huge curveball to throw into the episode, and they immediately suck all the oxygen out of the room. For viewers who know the significance of the character – and the actress, one of the last surviving links to the program’s very first episode, more than half a century go – it’s likely going to be a massive distraction. Why is this suddenly happening, where is she, when will they reunite, and oh yeah, why hasn’t the Doctor ever gone back for her (a continuity scab probably best left unpicked)? Meanwhile, viewers who aren’t familiar with Susan, even accounting for last season’s oblique mentions, are probably just thinking… huh? Presumably she’s going to feature in the two-part finale in some way – her appearance here will be even more confusing if not – but it feels like kind of an unfair requirement to foist on what should be the fun romp before the season’s concluding fireworks. The other big aspect of the episode that feels jarring is the Doctor’s rage. We’ve seen the character in vengeful mode before, punishing characters in far more baroque and existentially terrifying ways for comparatively less serious crimes. But not only does the Hellions’ plan feel like a gratuitous raising of the stakes that isn’t really earned – surely saving the one hundred thousand people floating in space would have been sufficient – the episode doesn’t really map out a solid trajectory for the Doctor to arrive at the point where he’s enthusiastically torturing Kid. We know it’s not because he thinks Belinda is dead – he’s aware that the people in space can theoretically be saved. Later he awkwardly describes being “triggered” because of the genocide of his own people, which just makes you wonder why trying to kill three trillion people wasn’t bad enough on its own, without the personal associations. The “ice in my heart” line is nice on paper, and delivered with appropriate contempt by Ncuti Gatwa, but it kind of implies that the Doctor is angry because he ended up briefly frozen in space himself, which feels weirdly petty. And the “I think it’ll be there forever now” at the end just feels bizarre. Join our mailing list Get the best of Den of Geek delivered right to your inbox! There’s also the issue that Kid has precious little juice as a villain. It’s unfortunate, as Freddie Fox has shown in Slow Horses that he can play a deliciously hissable piece of garbage, but the character isn’t threatening enough to be an effective antagonist and his plan is too psychotically over-the-top for us to feel any real sympathy for his plight. It ends up feeling like a waste of a huge dramatic move – one the show can’t exactly pull regularly – to have the Doctor’s uncontrollable rage unleashed on some random sneering emo, and it then feels jarring for the episode to flip almost instantly back into romp mode with the peppy rescue montage. It also contributes to the feeling that the episode can’t settle on a consistent tone – like the moment where Belinda and Cora are interrupted by the Dugga Doo alien. In theory it’s a fun black comedy beat to puncture the tension, and the kind of thing you should definitely do in an episode called “The Interstellar Song Contest”. But then, after the amusing “where’s that” exchange, Belinda has a tearful emotional moment with Cora, and the score swells, and clearly we’re supposed to now be taking things seriously again, but the Dugga Doo alien is still audibly singing in the background. It’s a comparatively small thing, but it adds to the feeling that the production doesn’t have enough control over the tone. There are bright spots, of course. Gary and Mike are very likeable everyman characters – it’s fun that they’re both instantly smitten with the Doctor, and that they both find it unexpectedly sexy seeing each other being competent at their jobs. The songs could generally stand to be a lot weirder and more alien, but Cora’s final ballad is soaring enough to land the final emotional beat (although the presumably accidental subtext that this is the only legitimate way for an oppressed people to make their voices heard is a tad awkward). The still, silent shot of all the bodies floating in space above the station is incredibly arresting. The Doctor and Belinda bonding over Eurovision is cute, even if it feels like the third episode in a row where Varada Sethu doesn’t get a massive amount to do. The Doctor flying through space propelled by a confetti cannon is just the kind of camp excess this sort of episode needs. And of course, there’s the ending, which leads directly into the first part of the finale. The TARDIS lights going red, combined with the portentous tolling of the Cloister Bell, is more than enough to sell the mavity of the situation – arguably more so than Mrs Flood stage whispering about Vindicators – and the doors being blown inward is an appropriately fiery full stop. Onward to “Wish World”. I love a good show. Grape? Doctor Who continues with “Wish World” on Saturday May 24th on BBC iPlayer and BBC One in the UK, and on Disney+ around the world.

Much has been made of the fact that the year’s most recent breakout hit, an idiosyncratic role-playing game called Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, was made by a small team. (It has just sold its two-millionth copy). It’s a tempting narrative in this age of blockbuster mega-flops, live-service games and eye-watering budgets: scrappy team makes a lengthy, unusual and beautiful thing, sells it for £40, and everybody wins. But it’s not quite accurate.The Guardian’s journalism is independent. We will earn a commission if you buy something through an affiliate link. Learn more.Sandfall Interactive, the game’s French developer, comprises around 30 people, but as Rock Paper Shotgun points out, there are many more listed in the game’s credits – from a Korean animation team to the outsourced quality assurance testers, and the localisation and performance staff who give the game and its story heft and emotional believability.Compared to the enormous teams who make the Final Fantasy games – a clear inspiration for Sandfall – Clair Obscur’s team is minuscule. The more interesting achievement isn’t that a small team has made a successful game – it’s that a small team has made the most extravagantly French thing any of us will ever play. Much to my partner’s annoyance, I’ve set the voice language to French with English subtitles, just to enhance the immersion.In Clair Obscur’s belle époque-inspired world, a sinister entity called the Paintress daubs a number on a distant totem every year, descending from 100 – and every person of that age dissolves heartbreakingly into petals and dust, leaving behind devastated partners and orphaned children. (This and Neva are the only games in recent memory to make me shed a tear at their beginning.) The game starts as the Paintress counts down from 34 to 33, and an expedition of brave and slightly magic thirtysomethings from the dwindling population sets out, as they do every year, to sail across to the Paintress’s continent and try to kill her and stop the cycle. I was sad to leave this opening area, because the city was so beautiful, and everyone was impeccably dressed. Also, nothing was trying to kill me every few minutes.The most French thing you’ll ever play … Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. Photograph: Sandfall InteractiveMany expeditions have gone before. You find their grisly remnants all over the place as you explore, their recorded diaries left to help whoever comes next. You start off in a kind of ravaged Paris, the Eiffel Tower distorting towards a distant horizon like a Dalí painting. The game looks like a waltz through a distinguished art museum that’s about to get sucked into a black hole. One early area of the continent is a waterless ocean, the wrecked vessel of one expedition wrapped around a dead leviathan of a sea creature, fronts of seaweed waving in the nonexistent currents. It’s beautiful but extremely dangerous: you quickly have to get the hang of a pretty complicated combat system to survive even the first few boss fights.Clair Obscur’s fighting is inspired by classic and modern Japanese RPGs: rhythmic and flashy, it lets you supercharge a fireball or dodge the fist of a stone automaton with a well-timed button press. Combining your unusually distinctive characters’ abilities is the key. One of them wields a rapier and changes stance every attack, another attacks with an impenetrable system of sun and moon tarot cards, a third mostly with a gun and a sword. If this all sounds needlessly extravagant, it is – and I love it. The combat menus are a tinkerer’s dream, letting you pore over and combine characters’ esoteric powers and skills to create interesting combo attacks.What I enjoy most about this game is that it doesn’t look like everything else or, indeed, anything else. The majority of games riff on the same few predictable references: Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings, Marvel. Instead it draws from completely different aesthetic and thematic sources; this is a baroque fantasy that tells a story about fatalism and love and death and legacy, a European-style tale with Japanese-style action and flair. It plays very differently, but its distinctiveness and determination to actually say something with its story reminds me of last year’s excellent Metaphor: ReFantazio. (There is a strong correlation between intellectually ambitious RPGs and baffling titles, it seems.)Clair Obscur also illustrates just how good game development tools are now: if you’re wondering how a smallish team could create something that looks this high-end, that’s a large part of the answer. This makes me feel pretty optimistic about the future of this middle sector of game development, in between blockbuster and indie. In the 00s and 2010s, that was where many of the most interesting games could be found. I can imagine several large publishers deeming this game simply too French to be marketable, but Sandfall was able to make it anyway. Expedition 33 is an encouraging commercial success that will be cited all year as a counternarrative to the games industry’s prevailing doomsaying, but it’s a creative success, too.What to playA thrill a minute … Doom: The Dark Ages. Photograph: BethesdaA new Doom game is out very shortly and reviews suggest that it is a glorious heavy-metal orgy of violence. It has you massacring hordes of gross demons at once, impaling them with spikes, shredding them with a chainsaw-shield, even punching gigantic hellspawn from within a giant robot or shooting at them from the back of a mecha-dragon. Doom: The Dark Ages is slower than the other modern games in the series, with more up-close combat and (as the title suggests) a vaguely medieval flavour to its aesthetic, but it’s still thrill-a-minute.Available on: Xbox, PS5, PC Estimated playtime: What to readChaos machine … Grand Theft Auto VI. Photograph: Rockstar Games Grand Theft Auto VI, which is delayed until next May, left a crater in the 2025 release schedule that other game companies are scrambling to fill, reports Bloomberg (via Kotaku). Expect some serious rescheduling to be going on behind the scenes before the summer’s glut of game announcements. The Strong National Museum of Play in the US has inducted four new games into its Hall of Fame: Defender, GoldenEye 007, Quake and the (IMO) equally deserving Tamagotchi. They beat contenders from Age of Empires to Angry Birds. After last week’s industry media drama, long-established podcast-video collective Giant Bomb has bought itself out and gone independent, joining a growing stable of worker-owned and reader-supported games outlets. skip past newsletter promotionSign up to Pushing ButtonsFree weekly newsletterKeza MacDonald's weekly look at the world of gamingPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotionWhat to clickQuestion Block‘Read a book, rube’ … Bioshock Infinite’s Elizabeth. Photograph: 2K GamesReader Travis sent in this week’s question:“I’m planning to start a book club-style video game club. Two questions: what should I call it and what game would you love to share and discuss in such a setting?”This is an excellent idea, and you’ve reminded me that I tried to do something like this a million years ago as a podcast on IGN, but I cannot for the life of me remember what we called it. Press Pause? Save Point? LFG? I would pick shorter games for a book club-style group (so that everyone could actually play them through), and I’d want ones that leave room for people’s personal histories to inform how they respond to it. I’d love to hear other people talk about Neva’s environmentalist and parental themes, or any Life Is Strange game’s mix of emerging-adulthood drama and quasi-successful supernatural storytelling, or even a game like While Waiting, what it made them think about. That would surely be more interesting than simply arguing about whether the latest Assassin’s Creed is any good.I asked my partner what he’d call a video game book club, and he suggested Text Adventure, which is annoyingly better than anything I can think of. My pal Tom suggested Pile of Shame, One More Go and Shared Worlds. Readers: can you think of any more?If you’ve got a question for Question Block – or anything else to say about the newsletter – hit reply or email us on pushingbuttons@theguardian.com.