Migration is an architectural fairy tale through which it was intended to prove the potentialities of a Fantasized Architecture. It develops itself through a narrated and illustrated project that results from a free and ambitious flight. To understand its purpose, one just has to imagine.
I could smell the clear water, the branches dancing in the trees, the flowers that sprouted in the soil — an inexplicable immensity of aromas gracefully floated in the air. Light. There was a lot of exterior light. The light that emerged was trimmed gently by the imposing massive arches lined with emerald porcelain scales. My feet stepped on soft grass which was dotted with red poppies. I heard a familiar and comforting sound. Then I noticed that I was very close to a lake, where a stunning fountain with its jet reaching the ceiling, stood out at the centre. A jet of water gushed from a statue coated with golden leaf and in it a corpulent man, with a long beard, holding a trident, was represented. He was on a shell-shaped carriage led by two elegant seahorses — it was Poseidon, the god of the seas. Yet, more closely, I realized that the liquid in the lake was not transparent water, but a bright fluid that, in line with the statue also had a golden hue and, besides that, left a trace of a pleasant sweetish smell that reminded sugar stage. Would it be a caramel fountain? Despite the hustle and bustle occurring at the site, I felt comforted by that warm and cosy atmosphere of people communicating with each other in a lively and enthusiast way. The animals roamed around unconcerned and were, themselves, also integral members of this frenetic environment. Here there was no trace of metallic round objects or paper notes. It was something nonexistent and unnecessary. Here, in this market, sharing was done through exchanges agreed between individuals. I. Prelude
❀ To see the technical drawings of this project and more illustrations please click on that pink rose ❀
Products were exposed on semicircular stalls of two levels, which accompanied harmoniously the curve of the building itself. These were the elements that defined the space and organized the movement, forming two rings converging to the inside. There were people who preferred to display their articles in blankets with gaudy patterns laid at random on the grass. Suddenly I saw it… I strode up to this central zone. Something was calling for me — it was a large translucent glass cylinder that contained inside a small sample of nature. Meticulously woven, the branches formed an imposing trunk, on which flowers, leaves, tendrils, butterflies, bees and hummingbirds were all cohabitating in balance inside this casing. Strength and robustness emanated from it, as if it supported everything around it. It was a tunnel full of life that sprouted from the earth and led us to the endless blue sky. It was the source of energy. Together with this cylinder there was a much smaller one, carrying to higher levels those that so wished. When receiving visitors, its platform flew out quietly and graciously. It was through an extensive and lush corridor of red flowers that people were driven to the elevator, an enchanted portal that began in the arcades, and then extended itself along the entire radius of the circle where the vibrant market was settled. A fairylike element that seemed to want to represent a rite of passage, a journey of purification... I peeked. I realized then that I was inside a tower!
An uncontrollable curiosity took hold of me and I felt my heart pounding and throbbing with excitement. — You can go up if you so wish — said with a wise voice, a man with snow-colored hair — this tower is organized in a special way and, therefore, to each floor a verb has been associated! We are now on the ground floor, the floor of Changing... in ascending order, there are Caring, Dialoguing, Learning, Reading, Creating, and finally, Meditating. You may find here everything you need! And so, for a moment, my feet left the velvety grass and I flew, trying to idealize how would each of these spaces, environment and purpose, be. Seven floors, seven replies, seven different atmospheres. What does unify them? What does distinguish them? Could a building be able to respond to all of this? II. First Flight
When I returned from the clouds, my body led me automatically and inexplicably to the outside of the tower. I ran as fast as I could, passing by the god of the seas’ lake and by the large arches with emerald scales, venturing myself into the surrounding nature. I wanted to see it in the distance, in its entirety. I wanted to realize its outer organization, be aware of its appearance and assess its magnitude in the landscape. Moved by this intense desire I was able to quickly break the way through the mountainous terrain and wild trees, finally finding the perfect place to contemplate — an organic frame formed by trunks and branches that framed the tower perfectly, the most seductive and beautiful building that I had ever seen. As the man with snow-colored hair had said, the fortress had seven floors. These, in turn, were organized in terraces and each had its own identity — different shapes, different coatings, different heights, a different relationship with the outside — each floor was unique. Yet, together and stacked on a common and unifying axis, they formed a harmonious and sublime set that aroused in me a mixture of indescribable feelings. Green was the dominant hue and it took on different intensities alongside the building. It emerged combined with burgundy, purple and aubergine and, already at the top, the tower was even crowned with golden details. A pleasant combination to watch that was able to fit in the landscape and simultaneously stand out of it. I do not really know why, but I felt I could understand what each floor wanted to tell me, its purpose, its function in the tower, its essence... I contemplated this picture one last time. I ran back to the porch of red flowers and walked through it quietly. It was here, without shadow of a doubt, that it all started. I reached out for the smaller cylinder, which opened at the exact moment of my arrival. And I flew. There were no buttons, the elevator was moving according to my will and, therefore, it went up slowly, giving me the opportunity to admire the sample of nature around me. Meanwhile, I unroll back the time movie and try to remember those wise words ... Caring, yes, that was the verb associated to the first floor elevated from the ground. The platform stopped. I had barely left when my eyes squinted instantly, the clarity that characterized this floor was something heavenly. Here nothing separated us from the outside world, everything continued outside, there was only a thin crystalline film — the walls were all glass. But not ordinary and boring glass like that of my house. It was coloured glass, stained with several figures, and for a moment, my gaze got stuck on a peacock which was staring at me from one of these translucent barriers. The floor and the ceiling were both coated with mother-of-pearl little squares that assumed different shades. I immediately felt an intense and peculiar aroma and its origin became clear when I looked around and noticed that I was surrounded by a green wall, a vertical garden full of medicinal and aromatic plants, luxuriant, which absorbed the light that abounded on the site. However, my attention was not lost here for a long time, since, once again, I heard the familiar sound of the water. Now the sound was more intense, more powerful, and echoed, conveying a sense of freedom. Then I realized that this melody came from a waterfall that was born in the ceiling and succumbed in a pool that rose from the ground right in front of me. One could comfortably climb the steps which, just as the interior of the pool, were lined with green tiles with the shape of scales, just like the image of the arcades of the exchange market, but with a lighter shade. III. IV. Contemplation Transparency palette
Here, people swam towards the infinity of the external nature and only the twin peacocks, from the top of their vanity, showed them that they could not go any further. Here the ceiling was far away. There was a sea smell. Back to the level of arrival, I quickly concluded that, around the green wall, a circular corridor was organized, through which access to the remaining areas of this floor was distributed. Its plan took the form of a hexagon, and without hesitating, I began to follow it. On my left, I felt an intense glow of small crystals that refracted the light — these, stacked into several rows, formed curtains that guarded a rest area, as I noted when I pulled them gently aside with both my hands. Then, I came across with a quiet and serene place, populated by suspended nets where, those who so wished, could rest. As soon as I reached out, my feet sank, cuddled and caressed in coloured felt balls that covered the entire floor. The crystal curtains were extended to the inside, through a meandering path which provided more placeholders. I left on tiptoe so as not to bother. Continuing through the circular corridor, then I found a space with several mattresses that rested on the already familiar felt ground. Each was surrounded by a velvet curtain that opened and closed, depending if they were busy or not with the people who were on treatments. Continuing the way, I was confronted with a circular volume which I assumed to be a kind of bathhouse and therefore I skirted it to the other end. Here, I found a longitudinal reservoir that stretched all along the edge of the hexagon and, just as the pool, it was also lined with watery green scales. However, in this case it was not possible to see the bottom, since the fluid that filled it was not transparent but whitish and cloudy. The tank contained donkey milk and people bathed in it as once Cleopatra did. In the area where this tank was located, the ceiling was further away and those who plunged here could contemplate the landscape filled with fluttering butterflies. After a diagonal line of pillars, among which crystals curtains were dancing, I found a place which its atmosphere, a more dynamic one, was somewhat different from the previous ones. It all happened around a spiral-shaped element, lined with mother-of-pearl. It began as a swing, extending itself in a circular shape and, halfway, it turned into a counter, continuing the undulating path that finally culminated in a round table. In the interior corridors of the spiral, people would grind fruits and vegetables to which they added varied spices. They also boiled water and afterwards they added to it the herbs they wanted in order to make tea — they purified themselves. Behind this element, there were still comfortable daisy-shaped sofas laid on a soft wooden floor that, in line with the site, also had a greenish hue. Another feature that distinguished this place from the others was its sloping roof that, from the entry to the end of the hexagon edge, was going up gradually, as if it were opening itself to nature. I settled on one of the flower-shaped sofas and, for a moment, I enjoyed the beauty of the surrounding landscape through the vines illustrating the glass wall. Only then did I realize, at last, the essence of this floor — it was the permanent contact with the outside, in a direct relationship with the natural world, with the cosmic world, filtered by the various shades of the transparencies pallet, which had a healing gift. This was its true wealth. Almost completing the ride around the circular corridor, before the stairs that led to the pool was a concave glass wall, yet it did not allow visualizing what existed in its interior, as it was steamy with water droplets. I pushed the door, which was also glass, and soon was surprised by a damp fog that filled the place. It was a room saturated with steam carrying an intense aroma of eucalyptus. Later, I noticed that the fusiform eucalyptus leaves were seething inside two circular furnaces. The interior of the compartment was, again, all coated with greenish wood and, from the floor, benches of the same material rose. I inhaled and exhaled several times, quietly, feeling the freshness of the eucalyptus inside me. After that, I moved forward and passed through a door, parallel to the one I had entered before, and the fog was left behind. Now, I found myself in a narrow corridor, but soaring, flanked by glass walls through which I could glimpse on my left, daisy-shaped sofas and on my right, the inside of the pool. I was so absorbed and so committed to this reconnaissance mission that suddenly, without warning, upon me, it fell rain with roses scent, wiping away the perspiration from my body. Despite the shock, I felt light and comforted. There was also another door that led me to another room. Here, the atmosphere was a little warmer, but dry. The wooden benches were seething and were oriented to the outside, which was limited by a thin glass barrier that, unlike the former, was translucent and therefore allow contemplating the landscape. Trimmed on this translucent wall was a passage to the outside of the tower — leading to a balcony that wrapped around all the perimeter of this floor. I turned back and, now unsurprisingly, I let myself freshen up again by the rosewater drops falling from the narrow corridor above. I quickly passed by the wet foggy room and returned to the starting point. Again, embraced by the green wall of medicinal and aromatic plants, I headed for the smaller glass cylinder that opened itself to receive me. I came out of it rejuvenated.
This time, the elevator went up faster, possibly moved by my anxiety to get to know the rest of the tower. But to my surprise, no sooner had it flown out than it stopped its upward movement, stopping at an outer space, with low headroom. At first, I did not quite understand. Where was I, anyway? It was an intermediate zone lying between the two floors, the one which I had just visited, and the one which I did not know yet — probably housing the needs caring and dialoguing. Then, I realized that in this place it was possible to see the reverse of what was going on downstairs, and therefore, the slope of the ceilings here corresponded to ramps that rose from the ground. The upper floor slab, painted in aged golden, was right next to me, making this a very cosy space. The floor was fully gardened and, on the other hand, the ramps and walls were coated with purple pigmented cement that matched perfectly with what took greater prominence in this place, what characterized it — flowers. Before me it sprawled a beautiful and resplendent rose garden that sprouted from the soft grass ground. That fresh spring scent... Was it from here that the rain of roses fell? I saw some children lying on the grass, some talking and others only contemplating this wonderful and fragrant setting. This intermediate space was almost fully covered and only a small balcony stretched to the outside, following some Ionic pillars crafted in gold leaf that supported the building. I stepped forward and, leaning on a gilded wood banister, spiked with precious stones, where floral elements were carved, I looked up and saw that I was still far away from the end of my journey. V. Floral interstice
Already on the next floor, barely had I left the glass tube when I stepped on the soft feathers of the violet carpet that covered the central zone. I heard laughter, discussions, serious voices, funny voices, cheerful voices, saddened voices... I looked around and realized that, around the site where I was standing, a smooth staircase raised from the floor, a kind of crater that worked as an amphitheatre, where the cylinder of central light filled with nature took the stage, emanating its light and energy and infecting with it everything around it. The glittered steps were coated with tiny amethyst crystals that took on various shades, from the more crystal clear lilac to the deepest purple. Here, in this meeting place, there was an appeal to conviviality. Once more, I went through all the surroundings, now with special attention to details. Then I noticed that on the top of the staircase, in the imposing watery green marble walls, there were three arches, three passageways, three options. Yet, what each portal hided inside was inaccessible to the eye... Each one was covered by a colourful barrier – woollen ball skeins protecting the secrets of each place. Without wasting much time (curiosity spoke louder), I immediately went to the entry that was in front of me and gently moved away the curtains. I was greeted with a warm aroma of cinnamon that eluded from a series of incense burners hanging from the ceiling, appearing alongside with the huge silver lamps that lit the place. Here there was no outside light, it was a dark compartment, but endowed with a mysterious and seductive atmosphere that would involve anyone who got here. The points of light appeared like bright stars in a purple velvet sky that covered every wall. There was the comforting crackle of the firewood, smoldering in the three circular fireplaces embedded in the silver tile floor that reflected the firelight. VI. Four dialogue atmospheres
However, the elements that took on greater prominence in this place were undoubtedly the sofas — charismatic squares of gaudy and varied colours and patterns that, thanks to its modular format, could be positioned in various ways, according to the need of those who were there. Following this more conventional but at the same time fascinating setting, I was startled when I found myself inside a cave, after having moved the balls of wool aside from the second portal. It was a space occupied by a lake, not very deep, where lush swan-shaped boats were floating. The ceiling was covered with stalactites which, together with the rocky walls, provided a cavernous and, at first sight, I must admit, a little scary environment. Yet, the red poppies crowns that adorned the stones, the floral wallpaper that lined the opposite wall, the elegant birds floating in the water, all those elements provided the necessary charm, turning this cave into a magical place. After viewing this such peculiar cave, I thought that nothing more would surprise me, but then, an even more surprising space appeared in the last portal — a small colourful desert packed in a wooden room. Fine sand hills of different heights and sizes, each with a specific colour, rose from the ground, forming a very funny landscape. The nearest was lavender, other was ruby-red and, behind these, others shone, namely apple green, cotton candy pink, moss green, turquoise. People settled in happily in the sand and tried to mix it, but that did not happen, because each colour belonged to its hill and the balance was not disturbed in this colourful desert. It was a place for fun and all the people talked lively, no one was unhappy, colours did not allow that to happen. Unlike the other two, this compartment was richly illuminated by a zenithal wide opening and so the sun could caress and heat the sand, making it even more comfortable. I felt like staying there, in one of the places, in any of them, to talk and exchange ideas, but... but I still had a lot to explore.
One again, the lift flew and stopped. The curiosity and enthusiasm that moved me did not waned, on the contrary, they were increasingly more intense as I got to know each feature of this splendid tower. Here I was greeted by a sweet piano melody that came to me through a thin barrier of fabric ribbons and beads demarcating the place, forming a perfect semicircle, divided exactly in the centre by a straight wall. I peeked and immediately saw my reflection in a huge gilt-framed mirror that occupied the entire front area of the room. This was a large place, without any obstacle, dominated by a peach hue that covered the walls and ceiling, also having a generous window in the lower corner of the compartment. In that precise moment a ballet class was taking place and the students danced, lulled by the music from the piano keys, sliding freely in the grey wooden floor. A girl ran by me in a rush towards a closet lined with tiles of all colours, removing from there what she needed so as to join her colleagues. In the other half of the semicircle, there was a siamese room — they shared the central wall, had the same dimensions, were coated with the same materials and received outside light from a similar window, but their internal organization was completely different. A balcony with an organic form, sometimes concave, sometimes convex, snaked along this second division and it organized the space, making it dynamic. At one of its ends, there was a kind of circular pulpit, slightly raised off the floor, where a teacher with a white cap was now giving a cooking class. The counter was supported by sliding doors of black slate and its top was, too, lined with the same tiles of all the colours that I identified in the closet of the other room. Here, the two side walls were filled with shelves that contained the most varied kinds of utensils for various activities. Only after making the full recognition of these twin rooms did I turn to the opposite side and, at this moment, I was confronted with the true protagonist of this floor — a sloped plane that gradually and unevenly distanced itself from the ground and that, at its top, it was at a short distance from the ceiling. This mountainous volume dominated the site and was coated with a flashy electric orange fabric. However, another element came into sight to mark symbolically the access to this auditorium — a rainbow was projected from the ground, forming a harmonious frame that fitted it in with its seven colours. Would it have at its end a pot of gold? So, I passed beneath the fairylike hologram and settled myself in this artificial elevation. Its main constituent covered by the gaudy orange fabric, molded immediately to my body, leaving me comfortable. But after all, what would give shape to this slope? Its consistency seemed like the consistency of foam... I was lost in this reasoning when suddenly I noticed that from time to time, especially when there was more movement on this mountain, pink glitter came through the pores of the fabric, floating slowly through the air and disappearing after a few seconds. Floor, walls and ceiling. In this room was all lined in slate. The characteristic black of this material was, however, covered with drawings, diagrams, beautiful sentences, wise thoughts, logic exercises, and even games, a series of scribbles that camouflaged the slate with several layers of chalk. Here, the place itself served as a learning support and in it everything could be recorded and immortalized. A man dressed in a funny way was facing the sloped plan telling a story which, for a brief moment, was already taking care of my imagination. I never resist a good story. I remembered, however, that my journey had not finished yet and, besides, I would finally reach the floor intending for reading. There, for sure, I would have many stories waiting for me! VII. In search of the treasure
I felt small and vulnerable faced with the grandiosity of that place... the distance between the floor and the ceiling was, in my small units of measure, difficult to calculate. However, the warmth of the wood and the colourful and irregular spines that characterized the place made it comfortable and welcoming. The reading table hugged those arriving, organizing itself around the well of central light, and consisted of a noble massive block of moss-green marble which sat perfectly under the mahogany floor. On this floor, the natural light was generous and appeared in all of its levels, through vertical and continuous stripes, interspersed with the multiple bookshelves that lined every wall. The stairs, in turn, also in wood, evolved in accordance with the curvature of the circular plant that characterized this area, promoting a sequential ascent that was interspersed with brief walks around the central axis. All levels of this majestic library were sheltered by an elegant iron handrail painted in bright gold standing out in the dark wood. Here, the absolute silence, interrupted only sporadically by the chirping of birds, contrasted with the vibrant atmosphere of the exchange market or with the atmosphere that was felt in the amethyst crystal staircase. One breathed knowledge and wisdom... Placed on the moss-green marble table was an old book eroded by the passage of time and its leaves were yellowed and many of them were misaligned. A book that I do not know why, caught my attention and, once again, without hesitation, I let myself fly... VIII. Piled wisdom
"Once upon a time there was an island. It was a prosperous island, fertile, blessed, an island full of life, full of aromas... An island that was once withdrawn from Mankind in a single day and night of misfortune, named after Atlantis. It all began almost near the very end, when, unexpectedly, the course of history changed. The Moirai, the Greek sisters of fate, lost their power of decision, until then so invulnerable, and over again were forced to weave the thread of life of all Mankind. It was an era of change... The human being looked back, reflected, learned, evolved and, when just a small glimmer of hope was left, managed to dribble the agonizing fate determined long ago. Gaia, Mother Earth, awakened and rewarded. Mankind was again worthy of owning Atlantis. Prudently ... it still felt the weight of past mistakes! A part of it for the time being... Thanks to the incredible generative capacity of the goddess in just one day and night of glory, the core of this magnificent continent re-emerged in the ocean. After finishing her task, Gaia rested.
And that was how the sun resumed comforting this piece of reborn land, long forgotten in the deep darkness of the water. Mankind celebrated! It was decided that in that island everything would be different. Everything that it welcomed would live in a constant symbiotic relationship with the Earth that had received it. As a way of thanking Gaia, it was also decided, that something symbolizing the new alliance between Mankind and nature, something that got closer to what was once the most advanced civilization — that conveyed the lessons learnt from the people of Atlantis and their way of life — would be constructed there. In the place where once there was the great and sacred Temple of Poseidon, in the centre of the plateau, a tower would be built now, a tower that not aspired to reach the heavens or challenge the gods, but rather serve Mankind’s uses. Tower of the Needs was its name."
Already accustomed to the wonders and charming characteristics inherent to this building, it was with no surprise that, on the next floor, I found a new environment, also completely different from all those I had visited. This floor, intended for the act of creation, was an ephemeral place, which would change depending on the artists who occupied the site. Here there were no rules, the place was appropriate and flexible and, therefore, the creative process of each one flowed freely. The walls and the ceiling were lined with cork which was already overlapped with various layers of art, that were exposed intuitively everywhere. From the floor small particles in silver colour glittered — a sea of condensed glitters which were fixed to each other and camouflaged this horizontal plane. But the most peculiar element that, for that reason, aroused most attention at this location was a turquoise curved slide. It was through it that the connection between the two levels of this floor was set and its path culminated in a pool trimmed in the lower slab — it was heart-shaped and was full of plastic pellets that supported the rushed sliding. Each descent provided a moment of inspiration and fun, feelings that, as a rule, are connected. There were no barriers — there was creation in the inside, there was creation in the outside, the place adapted itself to the needs and desires of each creator, the only obstacle would be the limit of self-imagination. IX. Creative release
The outside balcony was large and was an idyllic spot, undeniably conducive to the act of creation. From this point it was possible not only to contemplate all the distant landscape but also to be closer to the cotton clouds that were so close, so within reach of a touch. In this outside area the ground was covered with moss-green marble, like the one that I saw previously in the library. It lived together in a harmonious way with the blended marble that looked like a painting and that covered the exterior walls. The creativity that was felt on this floor was inspiring and contagious, yet, looking up, I glimpsed a volume lined in gold scales that crowned the top of the building and, once again, curiosity spoke even stronger. The long-awaited moment of accessing the last level of the Tower of the Needs had come.
And finally, I reached the top. I was immediately struck by a sweeping wave of inner peace and my body went into harmony with the surroundings, also letting itself getting involved in that warm and relaxing atmosphere. The walls, painted with a purple hue, conveyed an indescribable serenity and an intense aroma of lavender escaped from them. The fluffy floor was covered with colourful cushions of various fabrics, of various shapes, of various sizes. The translucent glass cylinder, which was filled with life in its inside, accompanied the entire building height, its structural pillar, its source of energy, assuming on this floor, the biggest highlight. Everything spun around it and the ceiling tapered towards it, meeting it. There it was the heart of the tower. I took off my shoes and snuggled into the lavender scented pillows. The blue sky was closer now. I close my eyes and I can feel the soothing warmth of the sun and the blowing of the wind that makes the leaves in the trees dancing, I can hear the waves in the sea, I can smell the wet sand, I can see a flock of birds and I fly with them... X. Plenitude
XI. Last flight
 I'm cold and I feel unprotected, observed and uncomfortable in this immensity of emptiness that absorbs me. Everything around me is quiet and stripped, it's all so straight and austere. This so strict discipline of the space where I am in makes me want to go back to the place where I came from. The limiting transparency of the glass surrounding me does not let me see the blue sky. Nature is just next door, so close, but I am not allowed to reach it... black and white prevail and their dominance is embarrassing. They, however, have never abandoned me. Good bye. I am going with the birds.