Architecture and its atmospheric qualities have long been a subject of discussion, yet reaching a consensus on the matter remains elusive. This is largely because spatial experience is deeply personal—rooted in emotions, sensory perceptions, and individual preferences that are difficult to articulate in words alone. The way one perceives, feels, and interacts with a space adds another layer of complexity, making it challenging to define and agree upon its atmospheric impact. Nevertheless, architects and designers continuously strive to shape environments that are not only functional and comfortable but also capable of evoking emotions and leaving a lasting impression on their occupants.
In Kissing Architecture, Sylvia Lavin examines the intimate relationship between humans and architecture, emphasizing the significance of surface as a point of interaction. She writes:
Architecture's most kissable aspect is its surface. Space is hard to get a hold on. Structure has historically been inadequately pliant. Geometry—well, who really wants to kiss a square? Architecture also has more surface and more kinds of surface than anything else: outside, inside, soft and hard, there's a surface for everyone. Finally, surfaces are where architecture gets close to turning into something else and therefore exactly where it becomes vulnerable and full of potential. - Sylvia Lavin, in Kissing Architecture
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Cities Without Ground: A Guide to Hong Kong's Elevated WalkwaysCould we extend our focus to the most fundamental and omnipresent architectural surface—the ground plane? How does the treatment of the ground influence the atmosphere in private, public, and reflective spaces? What happens when structures float above, providing shelter while maintaining a continuous spatial connection with the exterior? Exploring these questions allows us to reconsider how the environmental atmosphere is crafted and experienced, revealing the power of space when architecture interacts seamlessly with its ground plane.
Empowerment Through Freeing the Ground Plane: Rethinking Ground and Space
The concept of elevating architecture as a design strategy was perhaps first powerfully articulated in Le Corbusier's Villa Savoye. Supported by slender pilotis, the house is lifted above the ground, allowing for a continuous plane underneath. The ribbon windows, emphasizing lightness and proportion, further enhance the perception of a floating structure. More than an aesthetic gesture, this elevated ground plane fundamentally shaped the experience of the house—granting the automobile direct access, allowing residents to drive through the structure before ascending into the living spaces above. In this way, Villa Savoye showcased how lifting a building could create a new relationship between architecture, movement, and the landscape. While its openness was primarily for private use, it represented luxury, beauty, and a novel integration of modern living with nature.
In contemporary society, priorities have shifted. Rather than celebrating automobiles, machinery, and material wealth, architecture increasingly emphasizes sustainability, nature, and community integration. Unemori Architects' Blank Garden takes the concept of an open ground plane further—not merely extending the site ground into the house, but rediscovering it. Unlike its paved urban surroundings, the interior ground of the house is left as porous soil, punctuated with cement tiles and lush vegetation, as if reversing back to nature before human interventions were made. Though a private residence, its openness allows greenery to be appreciated beyond the home's boundaries, creating a shared visual and atmospheric experience. Here, the continuous ground plane not only blurs the line between interior and exterior but also symbolically restores what once existed—earth, plants, and an organic connection to nature with the neighborhood and community.
In the realm of public architecture, Kenzo Tange's Hiroshima Peace Center and Memorial Park stands as one of the most profound examples of an open ground plane used to evoke memory and resilience. Built in a city devastated in an instant, the design dedicates a vast, uninterrupted ground level—one that extends through the memorial building itself. This openness embodies a sense of collectivity, freedom, and remembrance. At the same time, it subtly reminds visitors that the land they walk on is entirely reconstructed—once reduced to nothing, now laid bare as a foundation for renewal. From this strong horizontal plane, the building rises, appearing to float above the landscape. In doing so, it harmonizes with Hiroshima's skyline while providing shelter and a space for public gathering beneath it. As visitors move through, beneath, and into the structure, they experience an architecture that is both solemn and empowering—one that allows memory, space, and public life to coexist.
Architecture Classics: Villa Savoye / Le Corbusier
Blank Garden / Unemori Architects
AD Classics: Hiroshima Peace Center and Memorial Park / Kenzo Tange
Blurring Boundaries: Ground, Structure, and Reflection
Semi-open ground planes, beyond serving private and public needs, can create immersive and contemplative spatial experiences. In TERRITORIAL's Camposanto Mapfre Chiclayo, Monsefú, the integration of an open-ground plan with a chapel fosters a setting for deep reflection. The project's material palette—dominated by gray tones of stone and concrete—establishes a solemn and grounded atmosphere. A faded crimson-red structure introduces contrast within this composition, defining the otherwise open ground plane and subtly guiding visitors' focus. Against the blue sky and expansive lush green landscape, the red structure, illuminated by natural light, becomes a poetic spatial element, framing the surrounding environment through its openings. This intervention not only distinguishes itself from the vast openness of the site but also creates a more intimate relationship with visitors, directing their gaze upward toward the materiality and verticality of the space, offering a striking counterpoint to the openness of the ground below.
In another example, the semi-open ground plane is a strategy to mediate between built surfaces and natural landscapes. SANAA's Grace Farms is designed to integrate seamlessly with its rolling topography. Beyond its organic, flowing form, the project maintains a largely open ground plane, blurring the line between interior and exterior. Rather than allowing nature to completely take over, the architects employ a neutral, built surface resembling pebble paving—durable enough to accommodate large groups while still harmonizing with the natural landscape. Unlike Camposanto Mapfre Chiclayo, Monsefú, which evokes awe through contrast, Grace Farms fosters harmony. Its design invites visitors to move slowly, to meander in a contemplative manner, and to appreciate the surrounding environment. The meticulous attention to detail—including the use of wood for the underside of the roof—reinforces a sense of balance between architecture and nature. Grace Farms cultivates an effortless yet deeply intentional connection to its site through its geometry, materiality, and sensitivity to the open ground.
When designing an open ground plane for reflection, what better way to emphasize its presence than by making visitors physically experience and visualize the power of the ground itself? In Ryue Nishizawa's Teshima Art Museum, the project reinterprets the notion of a freed ground plane in an unconventional way. Instead of lifting a structure to create openness beneath, the architecture casts the ground into a sheltering form—transforming the earth into a roof. Here, the continuity of the ground is inverted, its presence both preserved and reimagined as the very structure visitors inhabit. The entry thresholds, carved into the cast surfaces, act as portals—moments where the ground plane transitions into the roof plane. Within, visitors gaze up at thoughtfully placed openings, framing the sky and landscape beyond, encouraging an appreciation of the natural world from a new perspective. In freeing the ground plane, this project not only reveals the inherent beauty of the earth's form but also prompts a deeper reflection on the relationship between ground and sky, the artificial and the natural. Is a casted ground geometry—one that expresses and preserves the land's contours—more artificial than a meticulously controlled, manicured garden? Teshima Art Museum challenges our understanding of how architecture can shape, reinterpret, and celebrate the environment we inhabit through its spatial poetics with the open ground.
Camposanto Mapfre Chiclayo, Monsefú / TERRITORIAL
Grace Farms / SANAA
Teshima Art Museum / Ryue Nishizawa
This article is part of the ArchDaily Topics: Atmosphere in Architecture and Perception of Space, proudly presented by Vitrocsa, the original minimalist windows since 1992.
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