The work imagines fossils as recordings of forgotten vibrations, where matter itself becomes an archive of resonance. Each contour captures a fragment of sound, suggesting that even what has vanished continues to murmur beneath the surface.
The piece reflects on the relationship between infinity and order — where geometry becomes both a spiritual symbol and a living architecture. In repetition and variation, the fragments resonate with one another, tracing a path toward unity within multiplicity.
Here, a boundary is not merely a dividing line, but a condition for space to exist—a line drawn that allows emptiness to be perceived. As an architect, I am less concerned with producing usable architecture than with returning to a fundamental question: when function and narrative are removed, can form alone still establish space?
The material nature of ceramics—both fragile and self-supporting—keeps these structures suspended between stability and collapse. They resemble unnamed architectural prototypes or residual spatial traces, lingering between form and emptiness.
The work reflects on material rebirth, where what was once discarded finds new vitality through process and persistence. In these vessels of residue and renewal, matter remembers its former states, and within the ashes, a quiet breath of life begins again.
These two smaller ceramic pieces take on mushroom-like forms, continuing the metaphor of rebirth. Emerging from a dark, rough base, they appear as quiet pulses of life rising within stillness. The clay’s surface undulates like spreading spores, suggesting nature’s slow return through the remnants of the artificial. Fungal Growth embodies sensitivity and endurance—it speaks of organisms that locate vitality in silence and thrive through interdependence. As urban debris shifts into living ground, these fragile yet persistent forms signal the early pulse of another ecological order.
This ceramic installation is composed of densely clustered white tubular forms, resembling a miniature city emerging from ruins. The tubes rise and fall like a field of breathing structures—part architecture, part organism. It symbolizes reconstruction after collapse, the birth of a new order between the artificial and the organic.
From an architectural perspective, this is a decentralized structure. The wall becomes a mediator rather than a boundary. The gaps, undulations, and overlaps between slabs generate a spatial rhythm that hovers between order and openness.
Rather than presenting a finished ideal, The Porcelain Wall proposes an ongoing condition—a quiet utopia formed through coexistence, where individuality is preserved and shared space emerges through accumulation.
Resembling both geological fault lines and eroded architectural facades, these pieces inhabit a tension between control and release, holding a restrained yet persistent presence.
Resembling both geological fault lines and eroded architectural facades, these pieces inhabit a tension between control and release, holding a restrained yet persistent presence.