Finally, I present what may be my favorite of the structures that I have listed thus far: Miho Museum in the city of Shigaraki in Shiga Prefecture, Japan. This museum was completed and opened in 1997 and is home to the private collection of antiques and art from the world over, all of which are owned by Mihoko Koyama (小山美秀子).

This design illustrates the balance possible between man and nature, which happens to also be one of the main ideas behind Shumei, the religious organization founded by Mihoko Koyama, that calls this serene palace its home. In that same spirit, according to the museum’s website, 80% of the structure is underground so as to preserve the presence of nature on the museum grounds.

– an aside –

If any of you are curious, I suggest looking into Shinji Shumeikai, the religion I mentioned earlier. It’s an interesting one. One of their main beliefs is that by constructing elegant works of architecture in remote areas, they restore the balance of Earth. This is based on my minimal research, but still a cool concept.

Designed in 1961 by I.M. Pei as his first non-urban architectural project, the Mesa Laboratory is the primary laboratory of the National Center for Atmospheric Research. Located near the Flatirons hills on the Table Mesa, this complex features efforts of naturalistic integration while maintaining the modernist style for which Pei is well-acquainted.

The color and geometry used in these buildings are meant to complement those of the surrounding landscape. I.M. Pei took inspiration for the large, covered openings at the top of most of the towers in Mesa Laboratory from the cliff dwellings of the Anasazi people of Mesa Verde. Pei also attempted to increase interaction amongst scientists and researchers by intentionally creating a maze-like complex of buildings and corridors. Additional buildings, also designed by Pei, were later added to account for increased volume, such as the Fleischmann Building that is now used for administrative purposes.

Designed by Pei Partnership Architects in association with I.M. Pei, this planetarium / museum’s construction was finished in 2009 and opened soon after. It is located along the coast of the Outer Harbor of the Zhujiang River Estuary in Se, Macau and is visible while ferrying between Hong Kong and Macau.

This building is probably one of the most aptly designed among the creations I will feature in these final posts. That is to say that the design of it so accentuates and articulates its purpose as a Science Center. With its tiered curvature and large walkway that resembles the boarding platform of a space shuttle, this building embraces those elements of futurism that are synonymous with the optimistic view of 1950’s American science fiction.

“The Gateway” is a pair of skyscrapers just outside of the Central Business District of Singapore. Designed by I.M. Pei in the early 1980’s and completed by 1990, these buildings are nestled symmetrically on either side of a large roundabout drive that connects to Beach Road and are named for their locations cardinally: The Gateway East and The Gateway West.

Depending on the angle viewed from, these buildings are something of an optical illusion. Because of their trapezoidal nature, either building may appear to be nothing but a colossal wall of glass and, as such, some photos can be quite deceiving and, frankly, confusing at first glance. While I am uncertain whether this was the intention of Pei, it appears that the courtyard between the buildings was designed in such a way as to promote openness and invitation.

This was by far my favorite portion of my trip to Europe and, subsequently, also my favorite building during my Bavarian encounters. This is a church called St. Blaise’s Church and is located at the bottom of a cliff in the quaint little town of Salzburg in Austria, famous for being the location of the events portrayed in The Sound of Music. This happened to be the last leg of our journey abroad and this location proved to be an excellent way to wind-down in preparation to our final trip home.

I have always been fascinated with nature and man’s effect on it. However, so often it is seen that highly metropolitan areas developed in the United States during the 20th century show little to no incorporation of nature into the elements of man. This building does just this, though whether it was intentional or not I am unaware. The climbing ivy coupled with the overall relative simplicity of the exterior walls create a sense of balance between man and nature, a concept that I find poetic and that, I think, should be the purpose of all architecture. Not only did I get to witness such a building, but I was fortunate enough to have been able to see it at such a time as autumn where the reddening ivy is made more beautiful by nature’s ever-changing seasons.

The architect of this building is unknown.

Mátyás-Templom, or Matthias Church, in Budapest, Hungary was a very different experience that what we had encountered in Munich. I could not find very definitive information on who designed the church originally, but this structure has been around since the 13th century, though it has been reconstructed many times since. The version that we see today is thanks to the reconstruction efforts by Samu Pecz and Frigyes Schulek.

This building is definitely something to see. What stuck out most about it was the highly intricate tile-work that adorned the roof of this massive church. This place was one that seemed to project colour into all aspects of what it came into contact with, even on such a gloomy day as when I visited.

Not only was this building impressive, but the entrance to this area from Halászbástya, Fisherman’s Bastion, accentuated it quite well with its dull color-scheme  leading into the vibrant building above. Such contrast truly does this magnificent building justice.

Marienplatz in Munich, Germany is a lively part of the city. This district is one connected to a great many shops for locals and tourists alike and features many impressives structures, including the “New Town Hall”.

Designed by Georg von Hauberrisser in 1867, this building is very ornate, complete with every type of artistic feature one could ask for, and is riddled with beautiful Gothic influences. Along the lower level of the building, I remember seeing what I thought were shops tucked nicely beneath this behemoth, though my lack of ability with the German language could have prompted a mistake in this thinking.

When I happened upon this area, it was towards the end of my short time in Munich when I went out to gather souvenirs. Marienplatz was bustling when I arrived, not quite crowded, but one definitely had to move with the crowd to get where one intended. I remember thinking how this building suited the area so well. Its highly decorated exterior created a sense of noise that accompanied the liveliness below quite well. This being said, the building itself does not seem overwhelming. The noise created by its external decorations seem ordered, much in the German way, and command a gentle sense of belonging alongside the crowd below.

I first encountered this memorial in the fall of 2017 while in Munich and surrounding areas during a short, two-week vacation. Our happening upon this area was partially by accident, as we had wandered into the park without any awareness that the memorial center existed, however the impact this place had on us was immense.

This memorial was designed and constructed by a German architectural firm called Brückner & Brückner to commemorate the “Munich Massacre” that occurred in 1972 at the Munich Olympic Games. During this incident, a group of Pakistani terrorists known as “Black September” had infiltrated the game grounds and killed 11 Israeli competitors and 1 German police officer.

According to an article in the New York Times, one of the designers with the firm, Stephan Graebner,  mentioned this: “Our design idea was to cut into the hill, to take something away from the landscape… When you think about the massacre, it took something away, cutting into the lives of the victims, the families, the Olympic Games. We wanted to fill this void with memory.”

I had no knowledge of this occurrence prior to this visit. I remember sitting in such all-encompassing silence with a fair number of others for nearly an hour as we learned and, for some, as they remembered. This was a place that demanded silence. Merely walking into this space seemed to such the sound from the air around you and not one of us dared to speak. It was awesome in the purest sense of the word.