RADIANT — TOKYO

Radiant starts from a basic contradiction: light defines everything we see, yet it stays invisible until it meets a surface. In Tokyo, the Memorial Picture Gallery becomes that surface—an interface where light is understood as pressure, impact, and reaction. The façade is not treated as a screen, but as a material that “answers” back, turning illumination into an active event rather than an image laid on top.

The visual language stays restrained: monochrome geometry, strict edges, and controlled negative space. Then, without warning, the structure breaks into chromatic shifts—spectral bleed, color splitting, and brief aberrations that feel like refraction made visible. The work moves between intensity and stillness, as if testing how little it needs to transform the perception of a familiar building.

The Nizhny Novgorod presentation focuses more on scale and atmosphere. The same generative logic becomes slower in places, allowing depth to build across larger spans, while faster passages sharpen the architecture into a kind of instrument— measuring, slicing, and reorganizing the surface. Instead of “decorating” the building, the mapping treats it as a structure that can be re-read through energy and rhythm.

Sound is the stabilizing layer across both versions: a contemporary electronic score that follows geometry and reinforces the sense of alignment between system and site. Radiant becomes a digital collage—CGI, generative artifacts, and controlled errors—built to remind us that what we call reality is an interpretation of invisible forces colliding with matter.