AllesWirdGut Architektur have converted an abandoned steel mill into a sleek public park, leaving many of the old structural remnants in place. The bi-level tunnel bench is especially brilliant. See much more here. (via subtilitas)
Dutch artist Marjan Teeuwen eviscerates the walls of abandoned buildings, conjoining rooms with massive holes, and uses leftover fragments to create densely textured walls and surfaces. In the last photo, a project entited Destroyed House, Teeuwen removed the walls from a post-war apartment block in Amsterdam and sawed the building’s doors into hundreds of fragments, using them in turn to construct layered partitions. Walls made from doors. In other works she uses countless objects crammed into small rooms, creating claustrophobic spaces that appear on the verge of collapse, putting any contemporary hoarder to shame. If you want to learn more you can catch this 44 minute documentary of the artist at work. Photos courtesy Happy Famous Artists.
Tucked away in a quiet forest near the Lule River in Harads, Sweden is Treehotel, a themed hotel park consisting of treehouses designed by some of Scandanavia’s leading architects that was just awarded the 2011 Swedish Grand Tourism Prize. There are currently 24 rooms planned, with six now available for booking. Some of them, including the Mirrorcube and the Birdsnest have made the rounds on blogs extensively the past few months, but I’m really enjoying the fine details of the UFO room. The sleek outer surface and lighting makes me giddily nostalgic for the days of E.T. and Flight of Navigator, and what’s not to like about planetary pillows and constellation comforters? A stay will run you about $600/night for two adults. (via ck/ck)
The Treeless Treehouse is a cantilevered, inverted octagonal cone treehouse designed by Roderick Romero and constructed in less than two weeks with the help of Ian Weedman, and Jeff Casper. Via email Jeff writes:
The “treeless treehouse” was built high on a hillside site in Bel Air, California. The location lacked trees mature enough to support a structure of this magnitude, so this cantilevered, inverted octagonal cone of wood was anchored into a deep, cubical-shaped concrete foundation. A twisting tornado of Forest Stewardship Council (F.S.C.) certified mixed-species reclaimed Brazilian hardwoods were milled, pre-drilled & mounted around a burly framework of reclaimed vintage Douglas Fir beams. The entrance to this elevated observatory is accessed through a hidden opening in the west facing side of this chaotic, angularly wrapped nest.
I grew up in the Texas hill country amongst similar treehouse-challenged terrain and would have killed to have such an incredible structure. Here’s a video of some additional construction shots. If you liked this also check out the Knit Fort. Thanks to John Casper for the photos! (via core77)
For the past few months Atelier Olschinsky (previously) has been cranking out these stunning illustrations which he titles, simply, Cities and Plants. The complex hybrid of digital illustration and architecture is stunning, and several are available as fine art prints. Head over to Behance to take a deep dive, there are literally dozens of them.
Vasco Mourao is an architect and illustrator originally from Portugal who now lives and works in Barcelona. His densely illustrated cities and structures are drawn entirely by hand and while all are of course fictional places, they often incorporate real buildings. For instance, in the most dense piece above entitled New Yorker one can find the Chrysler building, the Met, the Whitney, and the Guggenheim among others—it’s like architectural Where’s Waldo! Another piece, Is it me or is Barcelona falling apart?, includes a wide variety of less iconic structures Mourao found around the city, and the last two illustrations are available as limited edition prints from his shop. Thanks for sharing your work with Colossal, Vasco!
Lego artist Mike Doyle creates these incredible Victorian mansions using no foreign materials, just pure tiny plastic bricks. The latest work on top, Victorian on Mud Heap, uses nearly 130,000 pieces and took 600 hours to complete. He says of the piece:
For me, this piece speaks to the inherent unpredictability of those things which we call our foundation. Like a little dollhouse, a seemingly secure home is plucked up and set on a new path. This charming home, lovingly embellished with ornamental fancy was no match for nature. The fancy embellishments serve as a reminder of our earlier focus on the material world, while the aftermath removes us from that focus. The piece offers no answers or necessarily any hope, but rather points to life’s fragility.