Fragments That Breathe
My postgraduate elective, Designing Regenerative Systems, introduced systems thinking into my design practice, adding to architecture’s role in cultural stewardship in material memory and collective care. Fragments That Breathe is a living, wall-mounted installation that reclaims the architectural debris of Glasgow city like sandstone, Victorian tiles and iron. The work is in response to The Lighthouse’s transition as a climate tech startup hub, which was viewed by people in the industry as a loss to Scotland’s architectural identity. Set within a corridor of damp shadow and slow decay, the installation becomes a quiet form of activism. I have reimagined and proposed this piece where growth, decay, and environmental rhythms are made sensorially and materially present, creating a regenerative system through ecological design and collective participation.
Grounded in regenerative principles and bioreceptive design, material circularity, and climate data visualisation, the installation draws on the sinuous forms and symbolic motifs of the Glasgow Style, also reflecting that of the metal gate at the Lighthouse, a tribute to Margeret Macdonald. Each spolia fragment is engraved with organic patterns that function as moss catchment grooves and microbial habitats. These surfaces host mosses, fungi, and lichen, organisms that slowly colonise the materials in response to climate conditions such as CO₂ levels, humidity, and urban pollution. Data collected through embedded environmental sensors is visualised through soft LED cues and dashboard, and can also be accessed via QR-coded narrative links. Grooved sandstone channels guide water and life and PLA mesh scaffolds mimic branching growth patterns, allowing the microbial to take over. Real-time air data transforms into visible biofeedback, allowing visitors to witness their breath etched into the living wall of the city. It asks visitors to feel curious, grounded, and implicated, to see architecture not as a monument to the past, but as a breathing medium or a living archive of weathered matter and human presence, to translate stories of relationship and return.
