Next Article in Journal
Can There Be Such a Thing as a Sociology of Works of Art and Literary Texts? A Very French Epistemological Debate
Next Article in Special Issue
Region-Based Approaches in Robotic Painting
Previous Article in Journal
Determinants of the Price Paid at Auctions of Contemporary Art for Artworks by Twelve Artists
Previous Article in Special Issue
The Minóy Machine
Font Type:
Arial Georgia Verdana
Font Size:
Aa Aa Aa
Line Spacing:
Column Width:

Landscape Projection and Its Technological Use in Conceptualising Places and Architecture

Department of Architectural and Urban Design, Faculty of Architecture, Warsaw University of Technology, 00-659 Warsaw, Poland
Department of Structural Design, Construction and Technical Infrastructure, Faculty of Architecture, Warsaw University of Technology, 00-659 Warsaw, Poland
Authors to whom correspondence should be addressed.
Arts 2022, 11(4), 67;
Submission received: 10 May 2022 / Revised: 14 June 2022 / Accepted: 23 June 2022 / Published: 27 June 2022
(This article belongs to the Collection Review of Machine Art)


The manipulation of landscape and the technological use of its views can be a strategy for place-making and a way of creating architecture and making it original. The methods used for this can be different, for example, by mechanically revealing and obscuring views, optical or film projection, directing the viewer to specific frames, using mirrors, etc. This approach is alternative and somewhat in opposition to the natural incorporation of the object into the landscape. In modernism, different architectural views of the surroundings were tested and used differently. These experiences are now transposed to contemporary architectural objects thanks to technological developments and the scenographic shaping of space. The article refers to the sources of transferring landscape views in popular dioramas and the effects of the development of photography, cinematography, and IT media. It describes the possible consequences of perceiving such a created landscape and more general—the world. An example of such a means of expression being fully and consciously taken is the now-defunct Charles de Beistegui Paris apartment. It was designed by Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret in 1929–1931. The apartment was selected for analysing as a case study and confronted with contemporary realisations that use various creative techniques involving the landscape.

1. Introducing the Research Problem

A landscape is a representation of a culture. The one made by man is a record of significant social, historical, and cultural changes (Jones 2003; Vâlceanu et al. 2014). Since the earliest times, architectural objects have been set in a landscape context in various ways, thus giving a picture of the reality of a particular time. Therefore, a fundamental question arises whether interference in this sphere by deliberate change or manipulation can change the position of the landscape as an indicator of the state of culture? How does the surrounding affect the architectural object?
Landscape projection and various other methods of its technological applications are a kind of design strategy that penetrates the sphere of built environmental phenomenology. The consequence of this is an impact on the recipient, a change in the impact of an architectural object. This strategy can be defined as processing the real landscape by means of various architectural, scenographic, and media means, displaying a substitute image, controlling the real landscape by selectively exposing or hiding part of the environment, separating the real landscape from the place with technical devices, or narrative guidance of the viewer, to increase its expressiveness and potential by achieving variability, flexibility, and the scenography of solutions. It is the use of the phenomenological character of the landscape to achieve various goals. It is used where the landscape representation is essential (e.g., at heritage sites) or, for example, for some reason, the real image related to the place cannot be considered. Another case is when the transformation of the landscape is mainly intended to influence the specific perception of the place.
The landscape was relatively unchanged for a long time—it was not susceptible to transformations in the same way as individual places or architectural objects. Currently, it is often the subject of creation in its entirety. The visual aspect of the landscape is a key means of communication, thanks to which it is possible to create representations of various social, cultural, and political theories (Raaphorst et al. 2017). The landscape’s cognitive aspects, local, social, scientific, pragmatic, and institutional, are legitimised and conveyed through visual communication (Cross 2006; Lawson and Dorst 2013; Lenzholzer et al. 2013; Raaphorst et al. 2017). For this reason, it is the subject of ongoing interest on the part of creators. Research methods are usually adjusted to the real, existing landscape. They include studies of features such as complexity, unity of landscape scenery, disturbances in the perception of the view, visuality, image of the scene (scenography), scale, naturalness, historicity, ephemerality, etc. (Jóźwik 2020).
Detaching the image of the surroundings from its place carries cognitive consequences, resulting from the experience of the authenticity of the place. Piaget says: “The true nature of space does not lie in the more or less developed character of the sensations as such, but in the intelligence which binds these sensations together” (Piaget 1955, p. 92). The question thus arises whether it is possible to create an image of space that will convey authentic values, despite its detachment from the habitat, the place of creation. Such values can be transferred through the narrative capacity of architectural objects (Hays 2007).
Landscape can be viewed as an object of nature and culture. This distinction is similar to the division between existential and architectural space. During the Renaissance, Palladio’s theatrical scenography attempts to arrange the theatre scene using a substitute landscape in the form of a painted canvas woven into architectural elements. The communicative aspect is based on the ability to build meanings (semiosis) through visual signs, which is what visual art uses (Eco 1976). Seeing the progress of the tendency to perceive the world through its visual side, Debord diagnoses this phenomenon as a theatricalisation of reality and, in particular places, communities in this world: “Everything that was directly lived has moved away into a representation” (Debord 1970, chapter 1, paragraph 1). When it is completely processed, the image as a visual message becomes a simulacrum precisely through the mediation of reality through culture and media (Baudrillard 1981, 1988).
The contemporary scenographic perception of cultural space and its evaluation through the prism of building a narrative justifies the tendency to use various strategies in shaping places. The location of the pictorial elements in the architectural objects affects the perception of the place in the same way as other structures that build the space. So, it can be considered its attribute.
From this general perspective, we can conclude that the landscape is as authentic as a naturally formed environment. The landscape used technologically, or used and adapted to build a narrative, becomes an element of architecture. Research in this area presents design approaches to create a place’s scenographic character and achieve appropriate visual effects.

2. Methodology

The article presents a thesis that landscape projection and other methods using it may be a strategy for building a narrative used in architecture. It is based on the properties of representing narrative, semiotic, and scenographic activities, the basis of which was the relationship and the need to situate a person as an individual in a wider environment. The model for creating and modifying the perception of the outside has been, among others, theatre, then cinematography, and then mass media. This changed the perception of the entity–context relationship through increasingly fluid relationality, the blurring of boundaries, and the disappearance of points of reference.
Section 1 presented the importance of landscape in its different forms of occurrence: natural, processed, and artificial. This is further developed in the following sections. Key terms are defined. Reference is made to the history, location of the cultural landscape, and the influence of the development of modern media on transformations in the area of shaping the surroundings of architectural objects.
The literature review (Section 3) and research were carried out in terms of the following issues: the experience of the real, processed, and artificial (created) landscape; landscape projection; the influence of modernism on contemporary ones; and activities in this area. This part elaborates on the issues of different landscape forms, their influence on architectural objects, and the way we perceive reality and space.
The research questions that were attempted to be answered were:
What values does the landscape provide, and can they be transposed after processing or in an artificial landscape?
Can the truth of the behavioural experience of being in a given place be replaced by projection?
Is it possible to manage a landscape from the perspective of architectural space?
If possible, how can the landscape be managed (steered) to provide a typology for these approaches?
Can manipulating the landscape create new value?
The layout and order of the following sections follow the main theme and the thesis.
The research problem was examined mainly by analysing the solutions considered that were used in the implementation of Charles de Beistegui’s apartment designed by Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret in 1929–1931 (Section 4). Despite its short period of existence, it was considered that this implementation had great potential for inheriting various solutions. The context of the issue also includes various previous applications of landscape images. They present contemporary examples of landscape projection and landscape use to build a spatial narrative in architecture.
The example of an apartment as the main analysed object was chosen for several reasons: it is good for interpretation and theoretical reference, which Le Corbusier himself did. This relatively small object contained at least four ways of manipulating the landscape: mechanical apertures, guiding the viewer, isolation from the surroundings and the use of mirror image, and finally, projection using an obscure camera (the fifth way was to prepare walls and screens for film projections). The apartment designed in this way was a unique (innovative) object concerning the time of its creation.
The study of the object, which is no longer physically present in the form designed at that time, was carried out based on an analysis of conceptual (competition and preliminary) and implementation projects. The study of the photos from 1931 by Marius Gravot, taken just before Beistegui moved in, and those taken by Lucien Hervé and others were also helpful. Correspondence between the investor and the architect, Le Corbusier’s statements in publications, and an interview with Charles de Beistegui from 1936 help to understand backstage of the implementation. Much of the object’s analysis was based on scientific research conducted on this topic—mainly as case studies.
Section 5 presents the earlier solutions in the form of dioramas, which are also relevant to developing the theme of “landscape projection”. This has also impacted contemporary projects where the reference to “landscape projection” is made through the media surfaces. Such an approach allows to place the Paris project in the context of the implications—architecture, landscape architecture, and visual arts—and give it appropriate meaning.
Section 6 shows the influence of the technological use of landscape on contemporary architectural objects. For this purpose, several objects that reference landscape–object or user–landscape relationships are analysed. In this view, it is easy to see that the means used to portray the landscape in a particular way are constantly evolving. The scenographic character of the architecture provides additional narrative effects. Charles de Beistegui’s flat was pioneering in some ways, and a range of means has developed, leading to the effect that can be described as “playing” with the landscape.
Section 7 summarises and synthesises the conclusions of the research thesis.
The methods used to analyse the sites are a form of the case study (with an emphasis on the impact of technological issues) and narrative approaches in the analysis of specific sites or architectural objects.
To a large extent, the present research is qualitative. They are a type of phenomenological inquiry. Seamon divided it into hermeneutic, first-person, and existential (Seamon 2000). The first refers to existing literary texts, the others to one’s own feelings about the interpretation of objects. They are an attempt to identify specific features.
The logical argumentation was directed towards answering the fundamental question. How can the use of landscape in an architectural object affect the perception of reality, and does such shaping constitute a distinct conceptualisation? An attempt was made to link the creation of a formal framework—concrete physical objects—with argumentation, sometimes persuasive, with a cultural dimension (Wang 2013).
In the section relating to the de Beistegui apartment, an analysis of the views was carried out on an axonometric drawing, additionally showing the most crucial view shots.
The juxtaposition allows the comparison of objects in terms of expressive means and effects when the constant guideline is the use of a technological landscape (relationship studies) (Groat 2013). It allows an overview of the means used to “play” with the landscape.

3. Literature Review

3.1. Experience with the Real, Processed, and Produced Landscape

The human experience of the landscape can affect its well-being thanks to properties such as aesthetic and recreational enjoyment, a sense of place and local identity, and the possibility of implementing various practices in the landscape (cultural ecosystem services) (Oteros-Rozas et al. 2018). Actions on the landscape in terms of physiognomy, i.e., manipulation within the real landscape or through the landscape understood as an instrument, for example, by distorting, relocating, or simulating the landscape, change its value and attributes.
The distinction between a real landscape—understood as an environment or territory—and the image of its scene lies in the location of the context (local and time) and aspects of sensory perception (Cassatella 2011).
The perception of senses includes visual, audial, olfactory, tactile, and taste perception. The most active sense in landscape perception is sight. It is estimated that as much as 60–70% of impressions are received in this way (Zube et al. 1982). The sight aspect is also the easiest to manipulate, as the experience of changing scenes is the greatest so far.
Another type of perception is social (community, collective), created by historical and cultural values, identity values, aesthetic values, and amenities (Cassatella 2011). This perception, captured in a specific temporality, strengthens the place through the landscape (Massey 2006). In the concept of perception, the landscape is something other than the environment or territory (Cassatella 2011).
The landscape is a medium and can tell a story, so it can participate in creating a narrative of place (Potteiger and Purinton 1998; Eggan 2018). Beatriz Colomina notices that by using the technology of creating a view, the very concept of a place is changed, which in this case is defined by sight. Separating the place from its view means that being there is something else and looking there is something else, i.e., the two experiences differ (Colomina 1980).
Initially, introducing a substitute landscape into architectural objects was intended to create the illusion of the real world. Examples include the Persian hanging gardens of Babylon, landscape frescoes in ancient Greek buildings, landscape sets used in theatres, outdoor events, 19th-century dioramas, etc. Over time, these practices gained a new dimension by adding new meanings—not just mapping.

3.2. Landscape Projection

Man naturally identifies the environment with his senses and tries to organise individual elements to understand and justify their relations. Then, based on this, he synthesises and creates more- or less-simplified models of the structure and functioning of the perceived space (Chmielewski et al. 2019).
According to the dictionary definition, the term “projection” means: “the act of putting an image of something onto a surface; an image that is shown in this way” (Oxford Languages 2022b), and the second term “display”, which also well defines how an artificial landscape image works, means “to put something where people can see it easily; show something to people” or “to put something in a place where people can see it easily; to show something to people; display something to show a quality, feeling, skill or type of behaviour; to show signs of something” (Oxford Languages 2022a).
While transposing the landscape into a new form of reception does not seem surprisingly new, it is relatively little to address the scientific effects of such activities. The scientific literature does not deal with this topic sufficiently. Tadeusz Chmielewski suggests that projection may even become a contribution to building a new theory (Chmielewski et al. 2019) or at least one of the forms of landscape conceptualisation.
According to Chmielewski’s definition (Chmielewski et al. 2019), landscape projection is a creative activity to transform existing landscape systems. Their goal is to respond to the growing social demands. It also serves the artistic creation as part of the essential development of cultural heritage (Chmielewski et al. 2019).

3.3. Modernism, Machines, Landscape

It is not easy to grasp the unequivocal principles of the concept of the modernist landscape. Its evolution and the way of thinking about it resulted from the atmosphere of that time. It was steeped in the triumph and the ethos of modernity, which redefined the current historical order. Depriving the frame of reference to the past and history and freeing the plan from load-bearing walls—literally and figuratively—are the main assumptions of pre-war modernism. The spirit of modernity encouraged to provoke, experiment, search, deform, and oppose the well-established patterns. Modernism could leave its mark where landscapes deliberately proposed and tested new formal and spatial ideas.
First of all, the Modern Movement placed the landscape to complement the building with its overriding feature—functionalism—so it was part of the architectural concept. On the other hand, buildings were, by definition, part of the landscape (Byrom 2011). It was difficult to create a separate concept for landscape architecture objects. David Jacques explains it as landscape architecture and landscape are based on timeless foundations: matter (vegetation, territory, land), a satisfaction of human needs, etc. Therefore, it is also difficult to distinguish typical forms of landscape that equate to time. However, its specific forms arose in the relationship between an architectural object and a landscape. They unequivocally resulted from the similarities in design philosophy, such as functionalism, and art, taking into account human needs (human ecology) (Jacques 2000). Charitonidou points to the relationship between the work of Le Corbusier (also in terms of landscape design) and Henri Bergson to evoke strong aesthetic experiences. On the other hand, the geometric treatment of landscape is in line with Le Corbusier’s belief that mathematics and geometry provide a sense of harmony (Charitonidou 2022). In the early heyday of the Modern Movement, solutions in the field of landscape art also look for the possibility of drawing on technological achievements. Modernist projects assume an idealistic concept of human life in comfort, thanks to the mechanisation and relief from duties—using new materials and new technology. Nikolaus Pevsner’s phrase that a man must have romantic faith in speed and the roar of machines” corresponded with this (Pevsner 1968, p. 210).
Technological achievements dominated the nature of the everyday landscape. They were constituted by technical infrastructure related to widespread electrification, the dissemination of machines in everyday life, and mobility. Road networks were created, and the accompanying services often appeared spontaneously and had little to do with any aesthetic concept (Relph 2016). The landscape of that period was not always an expression of aesthetic awareness but rather an orientation towards the functional use of space. Reyner Banham called the period of 1900–1940 “the first era of machines” (Banham 1980).
The emergence of the concept of landscape in the period of the dominance of modernism assumed the possibility of experimenting, combining styles, and comparing them with others completely different to each other (Jacques 2000). The forms created were a physical manifestation of ideas, but they carried beauty and had meaning.
One of such manifestations was the ability to look from above. An example illustrating this idea is the idea of the French engineer Eugène Freyssinet of the lighthouse of the world (Original: Le Phare du Monde – advertised as a “Pleasure Tower Half Mile High”), which was designed for the World Exhibition in Paris in 1937. At the top of the tower (700 m high), a restaurant planned for 2000 guests, as well as a hotel and a solarium. A garage for 500 cars was planned in the tower complex.
Machine references were strong and tempting in the pre-war period, and they determined the development of the style and individual solutions (Byrom 2011). They also influenced the perception of the environment, which can be compared to the then-popular billboard or cinema, and finally, the beginning of the landscape commercialisation process—the takeover by machines and the possibility of controlling it.
Not infrequently, graphic idioms borrowed from the fine arts were used (Treib 2013). Edward Relph points to the departure from the art of representation and the invention of abstraction (Relph 2016). The 1920s promoted the International Style, which took an individual form, drawing inspiration from geometry, the play of edges and planes, using mass-produced components, and showing expression through the material (Relph 2016). Regarding nature, Le Corbusier recognised its influence as the source of the creation of geometry and order (Benton 2007).
In parallel to the developing art of cubism, architects translated popular artistic ideas into an architectural form, representation based on multiple perspectives, depriving objects of a hierarchy of importance, privileged directions, facades, etc. Robert Hughes proved that the changes in perspectives in architectural space resulted precisely from the art of cubism. He defined it as “the sequence and overlapping of views, the unfolding and flickering of the surface” (Hughes 1981, p. 12).

4. Charles de Beistegui’s Apartment on the Champs-Elysées

French art collector Charles de Beistegui, on 16 July 1929, commissioned Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret to design the addition of a superstructure over the existing tenement house, which was named after the investor, the Beistegui apartment (Figure 1). The tenement house at 136 Avenue des Champs-Elysée was designed and built by the architect Gondoin in 1880 as a private residence. In 1890, at the request of the Beistegui family, it was extended by the architect Louis Henri Georges Scellier de Gisors from the side of rue Balzac to include a winter garden. In 1922, the building became the seat of a fashion house. The interiors were rebuilt by the architects—L. Fagne and René Betourne. The top floor remained the residential part (Commission du Vieux Parisséance Pléniere 2010).
The facility’s location and form of the superstructure over the tenement house and the specific client (an eccentric and multimillionaire fascinated by the 18th century) gave this project a unique character (Figure 2). Compared to other Le Corbusier works, it takes a different form as a result. The project became an opportunity for an experimental approach to a place, resulting in a kind of architectural play with the environment using various means of expression, including mechanical ones. The roof part turned out to be a representative element of the whole project, fully reflecting its character. As de Beistegui himself, the apartment declared, “is not intended for a living but is to be used as a venue for large parties”—an entertainment machine (quoted after Van den Bergh 2010)—and the project was subordinated to this.
At that time, due to their diminishing importance, the aristocracy tried to revive and legitimise it through their membership of the elite, e.g., by constituting new groups of bohemians that met at lavish parties—thus shaping the period of the so-called années folles, the crazy twenties. On the other hand, with their strengthening role, the bourgeoisie was attempting to enter into a form of marriage with attributes representative of it, e.g., through modern architecture. (Mozzato 2018). In 1899, Thorstein Veblen coined the term “consumption”. He wrote, “in order to gain and enjoy the respect of people (…) it is not enough just to have wealth or power. Wealth or power must be made visible because respect is only awarded on the basis of evidence” (Veblen [1899] 1934, p. 38). Homes became the subject of displays of new wealth (Relph 2016).
Tim Benton assessed this realisation as one of the more exotic in Le Corbusier’s works (Benton 2007), most likely as a result of a compilation of two radical personalities, but equally important at that time were Le Corbusier’s travels, including to South America, and their influence on his later works.
Le Corbusier denied the surrealistic approach and declared: „I am a cubist and I am not surrealist, wanting to oppose the feeling of construction, looking forward, to a consideration of the dead, of the dying, of remembering” (Le Corbusier 1946, p. 14). However, in studies on this subject, surrealism appears as the language of form, but it is probably more accurate to perceive the whole as a juxtaposition of elements in various, surprising situational contexts—Dalibor Vesely writes about it (Vesely 1996, p. 115). He compared it to the beginnings of the art of collage, where a few elements are always juxtaposed with other fragments of reality. Claude Lévi-Strauss referred to “units of myth” that can be freely compiled from language (Lévi-Strauss 2015, p. 33). This form becomes a kind of “intellectual bricolage” (Lévi-Strauss 2015, p. 35).
In this case, biased eclecticism, as a form of juxtaposition, also resulted from the owner’s preferences, who notoriously pupated Le Corbusier’s ideas according to his aesthetics (Rolland 2018). In addition, the sequencing of space and the division of the whole into related fragments was important. In turn, this largely resulted from the parties’ experience, the theatrical setting, the imposed program of such circumstances, the need to build tension, discover new surprises, etc. Such a narrative and, above all, expression was not completely in line with the aesthetics of modernism.
The apartment was built when the bohemian attention was captivated by the cinema. In 1930, the screening of Luis Buñuel’s film L’Age d’Or took place, which also influenced a kind spirit of the time and architectural solutions.
Charles de Beistegui, at the beginning of 1929, commissioned architects recognised in modernist designs to develop a concept for the superstructure over the apartment and a terraced roof with a sundial. They were participants of the Congrès Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne in La Sarraz from 1928: Gabriel Guevrekian, André Lurçat, Le Corbusier, and Pierre Jeanneret (Van den Bergh 2010). Finally, the project was commissioned to Le Corbusier the day after the apartment rental contract was signed in July 1929. Beistegui informed architects that several solutions from competitors’ projects must appear in the final elaboration (Rolland 2018). Six design studies were created from the first Le Corbusier concept to implementation. They resulted from the investor’s requirements and proof that it was a great creative effort (Rolland 2018). The leitmotif in the final design turned out to be a visual orientation towards individual points (Figure 3)—the narrative guidance of future users, i.e., guests, through successive parts of the apartment, which were to be places of surprise, causing awe (Figure 4). Therefore, the essence of the project was the sequencing of space. Le Corbusier wrote of the project as an “architectural promenade” that “constitutes an architectural landscape, both inside and out. The deliberately created varying plans were set across consecutive levels” (Le Corbusier 1932, p. 100).
Based on the preliminary designs other architects made for de Beistegui, individual solutions or similarities can be identified and adapted to the final implementation. Guevrekian’s project included a ping-pong area that was later transformed into a cricket pitch but eventually became a personal lounge, a private solarium, and a guest lounge known as the white room for parties. The concept also included a two-level apartment solution and mechanical, sliding walls separating the rooms, e.g., the living room and dining room. Lurçat, on the other hand, proposed a spiral staircase leading to the roof, to a space on the roof which is a kind of belvedere. At the top of the staircase, Le Corbusier finally placed the “Parisscope”, a form of camera obscura that projected a panoramic image of Paris on a round white table in a darkened room. From the lowest terrace, it was possible to enter the second level by additional straight stairs along the ivy fences on the northern side of the building.
Going out into the open space was a kind of surprise—a hidden theatre. The surroundings were determined by the material used—white marble. Le Corbusier described the place as follows: “It is a green space with stone slabs, surrounded by walls of boxwood and yew (…) You press the electric button and the green, deep to the east, slowly disappears, revealing Paris” (Le Corbusier 1932, p. 101). Then, the guests had two options to go to the next places—going down to the lower terrace or entering the upper one. The descent to the lower terrace was a kind of tribune overlooking the Arc de Triomphe. On the lower terrace, hedges surrounded the space, and the floor covered the grass with daises. Close to one of the walls, a form of glass skylights was placed to light the lower floors (hall and cloakroom) (Figure 5b).
High walls surrounded the upper terrace. The space was strictly limited, and its division into the floor (lawn with daisies), walls, and ceiling (sky) is clearly defined as “a real outdoor room” (Le Corbusier 1932) (Figure 5a). Le Corbusier wrote: “You run into a door made of stone slabs: this door opens slowly and reveals a completely white enclosure completely covered with lawn. The door closes again, and there is silence. We only see the sky and the play of clouds and the brightness of the azure; it is a feeling of a large scale, of the open ocean” (Le Corbusier 1932, p. 101). The key element of this place was a fireplace in the style of Louis XV, which was the owner’s initiative, and a mirror incorporated above it. Le Corbusier described it harshly in relation to de Beistegui, a result of “charming fashion” (Le Corbusier 1932, p. 101). Half the reflection in the mirror was the sky, and the other was the white wall. These elements, like the stone furniture, were designed by Emilio Terry. The yew located outside the interior cut off a corner of the sky. The scenery of this place was designed by Salvador Dali (Van den Bergh 2010). The external space takes on the function and nomenclature typical of a confined space. The interpenetration of these spheres also brings a new perception of the roof space as an extension of the private, personal space (Colomina 1980), which is consistent with the views of the architect who previously wrote: “the external appearance is always the interior” (Le Corbusier 1923, p. 154).
This building represents an unusual combination, so clear in the message, and the surreal motif appeared in the setting of modern architecture. Landscaping is an illusory projection. The reference to cinematography is fully justified in this case. Additionally, the interior wall of the living room turned into a surface on which film projections were shown. Also, in this realisation, the relation between the place and the landscape is the essence. However, the solution is not only about framing the views. They reveal themselves through controlled projection and close at will. This is what mechanically and electrically sliding hedges are used for—exposing these shots based on living images of the city—frames. It was not a panoramic view showing the whole, the continuity of the horizon.
Only a few landscape elements, which Le Corbusier described as “holy places”, were distinguished in this roof setting: the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, the Sacré-Coeur basilica, and the Notre Dame cathedral. The rest was cut off with high partitions—walls or hedges. It is a conscious decontextualisation of a place. Le Corbusier himself described the limitation of the perception of the entire city panorama as follows: “The architectural solution to this problem is, in a way, an act of piety towards Paris” (Le Corbusier 1932, p. 100). Manfredo Tafuri notes that, paradoxically, this clear contestation of history is deeply rooted in it (Tafuri 1986a, 1986b). Nevertheless, the applied measures cause the decontextualisation of objects. The panorama perceived from the terraces is disintegrating and returns in the form of the camera image.
In this way, the views could be perceived and interpreted anew through the modern context. Le Corbusier called the owner “the master of the place” (Le Corbusier 1932, p. 101) through his introspective approach to a place and accumulating all means of expression in a kind of box. The means of expression used are in line with the rhetoric of the oxymoron—the use of walls in a place predisposed to show views is an obvious proof of this.
Le Corbusier writes that the common view of Paris is the same everywhere and is limited to rooftops with chimneys and that the separation or “suppression of the panoramic view” gives a completely different view. “Let’s explain: rom this belvedere, you can see Paris in all its horizons, i.e., both the admirable places and a gloomy desert of roofs and chimneys. It was decided to remove this panoramic view of Paris and create an architectural centre of stones, gardens and sky, completely isolated from the turbulence of the panoramic place, and to offer, in certain places, moving perspectives with views that create the prestige of Paris: the Arc de Triomphe at close range, The Eiffel Tower, the Sacré-Coeur, and finally the mass of green that breaks away from the Champs Elysees and crumbles in smoke, with the Notre Dame Cathedral torn off a silhouette on the milky horizon” (Le Corbusier 1932, p. 100).
The use of a periscope also emphasises the purposefulness of this complete isolation of roof users from the historical landscape. A small exit pavilion with this device was created as a place for an artificial, deliberate creation. It was a kind of visual trick, showing a substitute for something that was theoretically in sight. The view of Paris was projected onto a round table in complete darkness. It was an image somehow processed by the device, conditioned by its technical parameters. Manfredo Tafuri wrote: “The distance between the top-floor apartment and the Paris skyline is secured by the technological periscope device. The “innocent” connection between the fragment and the whole is no longer possible, the intervention of a trick is a necessity” (Tafuri 1987, p. 208).
In 1928, Paul Valéry wrote: “Works of art take on a kind of ubiquity … They will not exist only in themselves but will exist wherever someone has a specific apparatus at the moment … just like water, gas are introduced into our homes from a distance to satisfy our needs in response to minimal effort, so we will get visual and audio, images that will come and go with a wave of the hand, little more than a symbol … I don’t know if, as a philosopher, I have ever dreamed of a company dealing in-home delivery of sensory reality” (Valéry [1928] 1964, pp. 225–26).
Rinella (2016) also noticed the role of light in building the mood of the place, or rather the lack of electric light. The use of a “living”, flickering world of candles, which was the only form of lighting rooms at dusk, can also be considered a cinematographic reference to the place (Colomina 1997). It created an unusual, oneiric atmosphere, also referring to the atmosphere of baroque mansions (Rinella 2016). De Beistegui, in an interview with Roger Baschet in 1936, said: “The candle has regained all its rights because it is the only one that gives living light” (Baschet 1936, p. 28).
It is also possible to project films thanks to the installation of a sound cinema hidden in the courtyard in the form of a boom, and in the southern part, the large wall has also been adapted to display sound films (Le Corbusier 1932, s. 102).
The greenery has been disciplined and ordered to match the idea. The yew is dominant. It is visible in the central area of the roof close to the stairs leading to the upper part. In addition to hedges, there are also shaped box trees in pots. There is much less greenery than in Le Corbusier’s original design. Then, it also had a freer form.
The equipment completely differs from the purist approach to the architectural form. Emilio Terry designed the furniture with a historicising form. This collision of furnishings with the smooth walls of modern architecture presents them in a new perspective, exposing and depriving the historical context of the place, which is also in some way an element of surrealism. The photos in Le Corbusier’s publication Complete Works intentionally did not show the equipment.
The technological aspects turned out to be (apart from formal solutions) an architectural challenge. Undoubtedly, the possibility of using innovative solutions was facilitated due to the financial possibilities. The use of electricity in architecture was something new and promoted (L’électricité à la Maison 1934; Kertész 1936), but electric lighting was abandoned paradoxically The element of modernity lies in energy use in various types of mechanisms. The window, which plays the traditional role of ventilation, lighting, and viewing, has become a kind of electrically controlled screen. Similarly, other elements gained the ability to move effortlessly. This resulted in the use of 2 km of steel pipes and 8 km of electric cables (Le Corbusier 1932). The biggest challenge was to ensure the acoustic conditions imposed by the municipal services. The aim was to provide complete soundproofing between the building rooms and separation from traffic noise. It is also the reason for cutting off from the outside world, a sensory experience derived from the environment. Arrangements with the local prefecture were difficult and also contributed to longer lead times (Rolland 2018). The construction of the apartment was difficult due to conditions—especially gusty winds. The use of walls in the form of hedges improved the comfort of staying in this respect.
Finally, a few years after its implementation, Charles de Beistegui decided that modernism was not in harmony with his sense of aesthetics—it turned out to be too bourgeois, ordinary, “aseptic”, purely functional (Van den Bergh 2010). Therefore, de Beistegui found a larger apartment near the Hôtel de Invalides, and then moved to a new property—the Château de Groussay in Montfort-l’Amaury. At the beginning of the 1960s, the tenement house was modernised by the architect Pierre Dufnau, taking on a more traditional form, but the scope of work can be described as minimal (Commission du Vieux Parisséance Pléniere 2010). Currently, this object has been described by the owners of Le Corbusier’s heritage—the Le Corbusier Foundation—as an “Appartement détruit”, an object destroyed, as the solutions did not survive materially, the idea remained only in memory.
The implementation period of this project coincides with a radical change in relation to the landscape—at the same time, during Le Corbusier’s visit to Sao Paulo and his work, the connection between architecture and the landscape is visible in the plan (Pianca 2015). Manfredo Tafuri notes that in this realisation, like in a lens, there was an attempt to reconcile technological and natural aspects, and the periscope device became a tool of articulation between the architect and the landscape (Tafuri 1986a). For this reason, it can be considered a significant impact of this experience on the further creation of cities.

5. Changes in the Way of Seeing

5.1. Transfer of the Landscape to the Diorama

One of the ideas of landscape projection presented above (the presentation of a landscape detached from a place) has its reference in the history of the 18th century, and it is the development of panoramas presenting views in full 360°. The 19th-century dioramas had different functions. Some were used to approximate the natural world of other continents (e.g., Powell-Cotton dioramas); others were a source of entertainment. They were both aesthetic and cognitive ideas, using the possibility of introducing a foreign environment and the ability to transform and re-interpret (Howie 2011). The created perspectives of landscape scenes ensured the ability to remember the senses of a place, a sense of place (Howie 2015). Sometimes, elements that could introduce an element of artificiality were deliberately abandoned so as not to distort the intention of a given presentation.
More than a hundred years before the de Beistegui apartment was realised, Louis Daguerre, considered the inventor of photography, used the camera obscura to capture the image and then create large dioramas presented in the theatre. The paintings reflected the natural and urban landscapes—views of the mountains, cathedrals, and city street life—produced on either side of a large transparent linen cloth. He refined the images by using treatments that enlivened the image—the play of light and shadow, colour filters, transparency and apertures, etc. Dioramas were huge windows with the landscape spanning the population, a source of entertainment and pleasure. Louis Daguerre wrote: “The diorama’s visual pleasure was closely linked to the illusion of the passing of time and motion on-screen” (Daguerre 1839). The view changed … “from a calm, soft, delicious serene day in summer, the horizon gradually changes, becoming more and more overcast, until darkness, not the effect of night, but evidently of an approaching storm—a murky, tempestuous blackness—discolours every object.… This change of light upon the lake (which occupies a considerate proportion of the picture) is very beautifully contrived. The warm reflection of the sunny sky recedes by degrees, and the advancing dark shadow runs across the water—chasing, as it were, the former bright effects before it” (quoted from Gernsheim and Gernsheim 1968, p. 17).
The English painter John Constable, in a letter to a friend, described his impressions of viewing the dioramas as follows: “I was at the private view of the “Diorama”; it is in part transparency; the spectator is in a dark chamber, and it is very pleasing and has great illusion. It is without the pale of art because its object is deception. The art pleases by reminding, not deceiving. The place was filled with foreigners, and I seemed to be in a cage of magpies” (Chilvers 2004). According to John Crary: “The diorama was a machine of wheels in motion, one in which the observer was a component” (Crary 1993, p. 113).

5.2. Landscape Creation in Dioramas by Corbusier

A similar procedure, which Le Corbusier used in the de Beistegui apartment, was used in the 1920s when dioramas were a popular form of exhibition presentation. Pereira and Ramón give the following examples: the colonial exhibition in Marseille in 1922 (dioramas by Valère Bernard), the French Exhibition in New York, and the British Empire Exhibition in London in 1924 (several dioramas were shown, including one by Edward Ashenden) (Pereira and Ramón 2013). In 1929, the Universal Exhibition also showed the El Escorial and El Kichot diorama by Carlos Vázquez Úbeda and Vicente Navarro, while the Ibero-American Exhibition in Seville showed six dioramas by Salvador Alarma, José Mestres, etc.
The way of projecting a landscape, which consists of transferring an image to another place, i.e., a relocation, is related to the search for imaging cities. Dioramas were a new way to produce an optical image that guaranteed continuity.
The forms of city representation used by Le Corbusier can be related to the division proposed by Pereira and Ramón. They distinguish the following ways of depiction: representative (through perspectives, sketches, projects, photographs, and models) and scenographic, for which vast panoramas of the city are characteristic, those that not only allow you to see from a distance but also transport the viewer into the city space (Pereira and Ramón 2013).
The means of imaging—diorama—strongly associated with modernism, showing the breadth of the proposals and grasping the scale of the whole, has become one of the ways of presenting ideas, projects—communication for Le Corbusier. Designs and ideas, such as the Ville Contemporaine —1922, Plan Voisin —1925, Mundaneum —1930, and Plan Maciá —1934, have been transformed in this way to obtain specific values. The diorama provided the effect of a theatrical experience. At the presentation of the Villa Contemporaira project from 1922 at the Spring Salon at the Grand Palais, Le Corbusier said: “I have sketched a diorama whose purpose is to objectify ‘before your eyes’ this novelty what our spirit is not prepared for”. The aim was to convince the audience of the ideas presented through its size—16 m in length; 80 m2 of space. Such a scale surprised the viewer; it also allowed to show the three scales of the project—the apartment, building, and city (Velasquez 2016). The exhibition dioramas were not that big (Pereira and Ramón 2013). Every time, Le Corbusier chose the take, the way of presentation, and the additional special effects used, approaching the stage design. The aim was to evoke urban realism through the use of optical illusions. Dioramas also have a social dimension as a form of entertainment. In 1925, he presented the Voisin plan in the L’Esprit Nouveau Pavilion (also designed by Pierre Jeanneret), part of the International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts in Paris. Le Corbusier wrote about this project: “For the Pavilion of the Esprit Nouveau (…), I painted a panorama whose aim was to make evident to the eye this new conception, so unfamiliar to us as yet. The panorama was most carefully executed and showed Paris as it is today, from Notre-Dame to the Étoile, including those monuments which are our imperishable heritage.” (Le Corbusier 1925, p. 267; quoted after Velasquez).
Showing the key objects makes it possible to refer to the project location. The above relations of the project with an attempt to place it in scale and place confirm the essence of the context. The horizontal view is supplemented by the plan and aerial shots. Voisin Plan adapts selected objects—historical and most valuable. This is a similar elimination/choice to the roof on the Champs Elysees. He makes these objects into monuments; they are no longer integral to the city’s development.
This is again an approach of isolating what is most valuable and disconnecting from the atmosphere of a historic city. In Urbanisme, Le Corbusier states:“In this scheme, the historical past, our common inheritance is respected. More than that, it is rescued. The persistence of the present state of crisis must otherwise lead rapidly to the destruction of that past. […] The “Voisin” scheme would isolate the whole of the ancient city and bring back peace and calm from SaintGervais to the Étoile. The districts of the Marais, the Archives, the Temple, etc., would be demolished. But the ancient churches would be preserved.” (Le Corbusier 1925, p. 272; quoted after Velasquez).
John Crary indicates the period 1810–1840, i.e., the time of the popularisation of dioramas, as the emergence of subjective looking: “focusing attention, cutting off a wider field—visual or audial—in order to distinguish a limited number of stimuli or focus on them” (Crary 1991, p. 13). This image isolation was applied both by covering the panorama on the roof and displaying it through the camera obscura.
Le Corbusier’s attempt to reflect the new landscape of cities on dioramas and to reflect the real de Beistegui apartment in the realisation shows his interest in transferring a real perceptual experience to a new medium. This can be considered a substitute measure, but he places the landscape in the centre of attention, creating, through the selection of shots, the author’s narrative of the city—similarly to the de Beistegui apartment—but using various means. Claude Lévi-Strauss points out that framing, selecting, transposing objects and stories into a different context, and placing them in a new ideological context determine the use of landscape as a new concept (Lévi-Strauss 2015).
The association of architectural scenery with film editing, thanks to the mobility of looking, is the subject of one of Sergei Einstein’s essays (Eisenstein 1938). At the same time, this mobility may occur due to a moving image and a stationary viewer or the viewer’s movement and a steady image (Friedberg 2006).

6. Contemporary Landscape Projections in Architectural Objects

Creating substitute landscapes—specific metonymies of images imitating the real ones—has become a frequent procedure with various impacts in contemporary realisations. However, they often appear where direct experience is impossible—like a billboard or a moving image. Sometimes, they are a form of a new landscape created. Following Reyner Banham, this type of landscape construction can be related to the “second era of machines” dominated by electronics and synthetic chemistry (Banham 1980), or a postmodern landscape in which realism and mediaism mix. The examples presented below show that technology has penetrated the sphere of interpreting the environment in various ways—purely technological, using advanced materials, or through appropriate architectural shaping. Sometimes, an image of the landscape is presented or displayed on an architectural object—similar to the dioramas.
In 1989, architects from Diller+Scofidio Studio built a weekend house on Long Island in New York (Slow House Project). It is very similar in concept to Charles de Beistegui’s flat, similarly using several solutions. The house, however, was intended for leisure and not for parties, as in the case of the Parisian realisation. At the investor’s request, the main asset was to be the view. This prompted the authors to rethink the theme of “architecture as a technology that creates a view”. In the project, the window frame cuts out the view of the water. In addition, the camera records the surroundings, which are displayed on the screen. The view of the ocean is recorded with the possibility of enlarging the image using the remote control. The display can be time-shifted—the daytime image can be shown at night. In this way, three forms of landscapes are presented on one viewing axis: real, window view, and virtual projection (Figure 6). The purpose of such an operation was to be able to control and manipulate the views (Domino 2002, p. 234). The authors describe the plan idea as a transition from the front entrance to the optical exit—the breakdown of the opposition between the real and mediated image (Diller Scofidio + Renfro 2022).
The author’s description pays particular attention to how the landscape is perceived inside the building. The passive reaction of the observer is interrupted and unbalanced by the various representations of the horizon (Diller and Scofidio 1996). Therefore, an amusing, illusory effect is applied—the horizon line is interrupted.
The Fen Court building at 120 Fenchurch Street (architecture: Eric Perry Architects) is now a frequently visited building with London’s largest public green roof area. Here, technology and its relationship to the landscape have been developed most strongly. On the ground floor, in the entrance area with lifts, the lobby ceiling (180 m2) is covered with a screen displaying various images, including the London landscape, sky, and vegetation (the live stream on the ceiling) (Figure 7). It is an artificial projection that the visitor comes into contact with just before the elevator accesses the roof. It captures the mood of an open, peaceful space—it is a kind of room. A room without ceiling screens would be dark and overwhelming. The author of the design is Sysco. The ground floor has a narrow passage, reminiscent of the medieval layout—from Fenchurch Street to the central space, initially supposed to be a space with a narrow opening showing the roof garden (Campos 2018). However, it was decided to replace this effect with a media projection due to many technical difficulties arising from the original idea. The very use of screens also required coping with technological difficulties. The suspension of the screens consisting of 540 panels (with a total weight of 4 tons) at the height of 9.5 m required strengthening the structure at the design stage of the facility. The service area for this installation is relatively small, for example, it is used to provide ventilation for the heat-generating LEDs.
The landscape projection through the Absen N5 LED system offers a relatively good-quality image consisting of 5 mm pixels and is characterised by high display dynamics. The projection can be a live video feed from the green roof—so it is a transfer of the image from the 15th floor of the building to the ground floor—or displays specially recorded films dedicated to this space. Both the architect’s and the investor’s vision was to transfer the real image to a different architectural space. Thus, it is a kind of augmented reality.
Renowned artists, Vong Phaophanit and Claire Oboussier, prepared the art projections in this field. For this purpose, they used images from London—a panorama and areas of nature and parks. Most often, however, the images are recorded from the bottom so that the viewer has a sense of reality when looking up. Obussier says about this project: “We were invited to engage with the natural and urban landscape and create a filmic experience for the viewer (…) We collected a vast bank of video footage and audio and chose to prioritise the natural environment of London because we think it really adds something to the space” (Campos 2018).
The video of ‘The Call of Things’ consists of four views referring to the seasons, specifically the inter-seasons, which captures the change that occurs over time.
Outdoor cameras have a high quality and a wide spectrum of image recording (4k) and transmission to a screen of 13.8 × 12.9 m, powered from a special room. One camera is aimed at the garden plan and the other at the wisteria canopy on the roof. The building manager can decide which projection is displayed. Installations of this type in Europe are an innovation in the transmission of images but are more and more often used for this type of architectural surface.
The roof itself, a publicly accessible place, reveals the real view of the city; the neighbouring skyscrapers obscure the skyline.
Another concept of the object’s relationship with the landscape is presented by the Cartier Foundation in Paris, at Boulevard Raspail 261, established in 1994. Designed by Jean Nouvel and Emmanuel Cattani, the building is an attempt to dematerialise, blurring the boundaries between architecture and landscape (Jóźwik 2012). Thanks to the retraction of the building and the positioning of the glass screens (Fierro 2003, p. 107) to maintain the line of the frontage, it was possible to preserve the trees growing along the pavement, the most important of which is the old Lebanese cedar planted by the poet François-René Chateaubriand in 1823. Glass panes multiply the landscape through reflections and transparency (Figure 8a,b).
Jean Nouvel said the following about glass: “… very interesting features of glass as a material on which you can project images, operate with various degrees of reflection, opacity and transparency. (…) What interests me about glass is rather the amount of nuances it provides, not the state of complete transparency. I am interested in the complexity of the glass response to changing lighting, its openwork, which can be obtained through the applied serigraphs” (Zaera 1998, p. 31).
Glass, through its transparency and reflectivity properties, increases depth while maintaining simple shapes. The walls of the Cartier Foundation building slide apart on the ground floor, thanks to which the exhibition space opens onto the garden. The east and west facades have special installations with fabric blinds that control sunlight so that the interior does not get too hot.
The interplay between an object and its surroundings makes for a special treatment of a view issue by using architectural technology. To achieve the ephemeral character of architecture, the perceptual game with optical phenomena evidently draws from the art of cinematography (Cairns 2012).
Landscape projection is quite often the result of using mirrored or reflective glass. Thanks to the coatings applied to the glass panes and the light action, the facade of the building projects images that are a play of environment reflections. Especially, visual sensations occur when a mirror glass is used. With highly advanced technologies, it is possible to obtain selective panes which, on the one hand, allow light to flow inside and, on the other hand, by covering their surfaces with chrome layers, you can obtain a mirror effect. In this way, screen facades are created on which the local landscape or city life is displayed (Krajewska 2019).
The reflections used to take over the view of the surroundings are also displayed in Peter Pichler’s Mirror Houses in Bolzano, Italy (Figure 9). The tectonics of their facades have been integrated into the existing landscape (Karpenko 2015). On the western facade of the interconnected buildings, you can see the extent of the Dolomite landscape and the stretches of apple orchards adjacent to the plot. On the other hand, panoramic glazing and cantilevered terraces allow you to see from the inside. The object and its surroundings have firmly connected both ways through the view.
A similar procedure was used at the Dyson campus in Malmesbury, UK, designed by WilkinsonEyre. In this case, various views were adjusted to compensate for the scale and building structure with an industrial and technological function. The project essence is the relationship of the surroundings to the place, which is characterised by an already established identity. The Dyson 9 building, with a research and design function, has been designed in relation to the landscape by using mirrored glass (Figure 10) so that there is no view inside, only looking out is possible. The facades take over the local landscape of the surrounding area. The mirrored facades additionally visually reduce the scale of the industrial facility. The border between the real greenery and the illusory creations created on the mirror-like building disappears thanks to the image’s reflections.
The author, Chris Wilkinson, commented on his project as follows: “From afar, it wasn’t to be seen as an industrial factory but a structure simply floating above the tree line” (St Hill 2017).
The effect of reflection and advanced glass technologies was used to create the city landscape in the Dutch town of Schijndel. The Glass Farm building designed by the MVRDV architectural office was built there. It is surely surprisingly located in the very centre of the town, between the church and the town hall. This place was damaged as a result of explosions during World War II.
The shape of Glass Farm refers to the farm buildings characteristic of this area, which is visible, among others, in the shape of the roof and its slope. However, it should be emphasised that the building has been rescaled and enlarged by 60%. In this way, a much larger usable area was obtained, which made it possible to combine many functions in one facility, such as shops, offices, or a wellness centre. However, the most innovative solution is the selection of material solutions used in the facade and the roof. The building has been fully glazed. However, the typical transparent glass is not used here but rather panes with an imprint imitating the lines and the colour characteristic of the surrounding buildings. For this purpose, artist-photographer Frank van der Salm photographed 87 farm buildings, and based on the collected materials, a collage with the most typical details in these objects was created. The image obtained in this way was applied to individual glass panes in the roof and facade. Due to the highly detailed image, the screen-printing method was not chosen, but instead the more technologically advanced Artlite Digital printing method. The image with a resolution of 360 dpi was machine transferred onto the glass layer from the inside. The applied ink was fired at a temperature of 680 °C, which made it fuse with the glass. The outer layer of glass has a smooth surface which serves as a projection screen in the context of adjacent buildings.
The technologies used contributed to the achievement of two effects. On the one hand, in the landscape of a small town, a building was created in a shape transferred from the surrounding towns, with characteristic windows, doors, divisions, and texture. On the other hand, depending on the light intensity on its glass surfaces, an image of neighbouring buildings is displayed through reflections (Figure 11). This aesthetic approach has become a “game of contexts” (Juchniewicz 2018).

7. Conclusions

To sum up, the implementation of the apartment according to Le Corbusier’s design and the presentation of other contemporary projects indicates a change in the perception of the landscape. They consist of various manipulations: separating the components of full views—isolating the selected ones and eliminating the rest—displaying substitute images, guiding the recipient according to a predetermined narrative or the use of a film or mirror illusion.
The visual experience becomes the most important. Therefore, alternative forms of representations are also used without indicating the value of experiencing a real place, “the here and now”—in the sense of the atmosphere, the reality of the place with all its advantages and disadvantages. On the other hand, this action makes the stage art a paradigm for the aesthetics of atmosphere (Böhme 2017).
This form of projection is characteristic of the modernist era (for example, through the standard use of framing views). It differs from contemporary ecological attitudes that redirect attention to other aspects of aesthetics (Böhme 1989). Although Le Corbusier raised the issues of comfort and hygiene by proposing the forms of green terraces and roofs, it was more focused on the physiological needs of man and, at the same time, influenced the psychophysical–perceptual, cognitive, or behavioural aspects. In the case of roof space, it is the experience of looking at the open space from above. They can be related to many feelings, such as reflective long-sightedness, the triumph of the winner, etc.
The way of looking, which is strictly related to the creation of views, can be divided into (1) classic, (2) painterly—captivating—a permanent panorama, and (3) the flaneur perception, involving movement, penetration, finding new threads, looking for events and excesses, and combining all of them, thanks to the inventions of digital technology (Michałowska 2010).
The contemporary perception of the world is changing. It does not constitute a whole anymore, and the landscape in the classical sense, constituting the matrix of places, is fragmented or transferred. This places him quite differently from what Norberg-Schulz wrote: “The landscape level is usually the <<ground>> at which the configurations of the existential space have developed. (…) The function of a landscape is always to provide a continuous background in our image of the environment (and also in our field of view). If this condition is not met, one cannot speak of a landscape” (Norberg-Schulz 1971, pp. 28, 30).
Nobel laureate in the field of literature, Olga Tokarczuk said during the Nobel Prize lecture: “Humanity has come a long way in its ways of communicating and sharing personal experience, from orality, relying on the living word and human memory, through the Gutenberg Revolution, when stories began to be widely mediated by writing and in this way fixed and codified as well as possible to reproduce without alteration” (Tokarczuk 2019, p. 12). Humanity has followed a similar path in the way of experiencing places and being sensitive to the essence of the landscape. Real, it was unchanging; it gave information about the world—it had a cognitive value, and when transformed, it is a creation of the world; it sometimes becomes unreal, like theatrical scenery, susceptible to a gesture of change. If we consider ecological values, it is a drawback; if as an object of artistic processing, it becomes the desired object of new creations.
The possibility of changes in the landscape area has the dimension of a phenomenon that has a chance to develop in urban areas—thanks to the development of visual communication and the technological measures used for this—linking architecture and media (Manovich 2002). The use of visual possibilities in art, theatre, and stage design, introducing performative art and illusion elements to architectural objects, constitutes a new dimension of architecture. It is the basis for the conceptualisation of the landscape.

Author Contributions

Conceptualization, R.J.; methodology, A.J. and R.J.; validation, R.J. and A.J.; formal analysis, R.J. and A.J.; investigation, R.J.; resources, R.J. and A.J.; data curation, R.J. and A.J.; writing—original draft preparation, R.J.; writing—review and editing, R.J. and A.J.; visualization, R.J. and A.J.; supervision, A.J. All authors have read and agreed to the published version of the manuscript.


This research received no external funding.

Institutional Review Board Statement

Not applicable.

Informed Consent Statement

Not applicable.

Data Availability Statement

Data is contained within the article.


We would like to thank architects and designers: Diller Scofidio + Renfro, Peter Pichler Architecture, WilkinsonEyre and MVRDV for providing photos and visuals for the article.

Conflicts of Interest

The authors declare no conflict of interest.


  1. Banham, Reyner. 1980. Theory and Design in the First Machine Age. London: Architectural Press, p. 338. [Google Scholar]
  2. Baschet, René. 1936. À la recherche d’un décor nouveau. Plaisir de France 5: 28. [Google Scholar]
  3. Baudrillard, Jean. 1981. Simulacra and Simulation. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, p. 170. [Google Scholar]
  4. Baudrillard, Jean. 1988. Selected Writings. Cambridge: Polity Press. [Google Scholar]
  5. Benton, Tim. 2007. The Villas of Le Corbusier 1920–1930. Basel: Birkhäuser, p. 272. [Google Scholar]
  6. Böhme, Gernot. 1989. Für eine Ökologische Naturästhetik. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, p. 96. [Google Scholar]
  7. Böhme, Gernot. 2017. The Aesthetics of Atmospheres. Edited by Jean-Paul Thibaud. London: Routledge, p. 230. [Google Scholar]
  8. Byrom, John. 2011. The Modern Movement in Landscape Design: Precepts, legacies and challenges. Paper presented at DOCOMOMO ISC Urbanism+ Landscape Conference, Edinburgh, UK, April 21; p. 20. [Google Scholar]
  9. Cairns, Graham James. 2012. Cinematic Phenomenology in Architecture: The Cartier Foundation, Paris, Jean Nouvel. Akademeia 2: 1–8. [Google Scholar]
  10. Campos, Guy. 2018. Raising the roof for LED innovation. AV Magazine. Available online: (accessed on 16 January 2022).
  11. Cassatella, Claudia. 2011. Assessing Visual and Social Perceptions of Landscape. In Landscape Indicators. Edited by Claudia Cassatella and Attilia Peano. Dordrecht: Springer, pp. 105–40. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  12. Charitonidou, Marianna. 2022. Le Corbusier’s Ineffable Space and Synchronism: From Architecture as Clear Syntax to Architecture as Succession of Events. Arts 11: 48. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  13. Chilvers, Ian. 2004. The Oxford Dictonary of Art, 3rd ed. Edited by Ian Chilvers. New York: Oxford University Press. [Google Scholar]
  14. Chmielewski, Tadeusz Jan, Szymon Chmielewski, and Agnieszka Kułak. 2019. Percepcja i projekcja krajobrazu: Teorie, zastosowania, oczekiwania. Przegląd Geograficzny 91: 365–84. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  15. Colomina, Beatriz. 1980. Privacy and Publicity: Modern Architecture as Mass Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, p. 402. [Google Scholar]
  16. Colomina, Beatriz. 1997. Sexuality & Space. Princeston: Princeston University Press, p. 389. [Google Scholar]
  17. Commission du Vieux Parisséance Pléniere. 2010. p. 136, Avenue des Champs-Elysées, 1, rue Balzac (8earr.) Vestiges de la Terrasse de Charles de Beistegui, Paris, October 21. Available online: (accessed on 16 January 2022).
  18. Crary, John. 1991. Suspenstions of Perception. Attention, Spectacle, and Modern Culture. Cambridge: MIT Press, p. 410. [Google Scholar]
  19. Crary, John. 1993. Techniques of the Observer. Cambridge: MIT Press, p. 171. [Google Scholar]
  20. Cross, Nigel. 2006. Designerly Ways of Knowing. London: Springer, p. 119. [Google Scholar]
  21. Daguerre, Louis. 1839. Historique et Description des Procédés du Daguerréotype et du Diorama. Paris: Alphonse Giroux, p. 76. [Google Scholar]
  22. Debord, Guy. 1970. The Society of the Spectacle. Detroit: Black and Red, p. 175. [Google Scholar]
  23. Diller, Elizabeth, and Ricardo Scofidio. 1996. Flesh: Architectural Probes. Huston: Princeton Architectural Press, p. 257. [Google Scholar]
  24. Diller Scofidio + Renfro. 2022. Slow House, Long Island, NY. Available online: (accessed on 16 January 2022).
  25. Domino, Melanie. 2002. Envisioning Architecture: Drawings from the Museum of Modern Art. Edited by Matilda McQuaid. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, p. 234. [Google Scholar]
  26. Eco, Umberto. 1976. A Theory of Semiotics. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, p. 354. [Google Scholar]
  27. Eggan, Taylor A. 2018. Landscape Metaphysics: Narrative Architecture and the Focalisation of the Environment. English Studies 99: 398–411. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  28. Eisenstein, Sergei. 1938. Montage and Architecture. Assemblage 10: 111–31. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  29. Fierro, Annette. 2003. The Glass State: The Technology of the Spectacle, Paris 1981–1988. Cambridge and London: The MIT Press, pp. 107–25. [Google Scholar]
  30. Friedberg, Anne. 2006. The Virtual Window: From Alberti to Microsoft. Cambridge: The MIT Press, p. 372. [Google Scholar]
  31. Gernsheim, Helmut, and Alison Gernsheim. 1968. L. J. M. Daguerre: The History of the Diorama and the Daguerreotype. New York: Dover Publications, p. 226. [Google Scholar]
  32. Groat, Linda N. 2013. Correlation studies. In Architectural Research Methods. Edited by Linda N. Groat and David Wang. Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, pp. 263–313. [Google Scholar]
  33. Hays, K. Michael. 2007. Notes on narrative method in historical interpretation. Footprint 1: 23–30. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  34. Howie, Geraldine Marian. 2011. The Powell-Cotton Dioramas and the Re-Interpretation of an Idyll. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Gloucestershire, Gloucestershire, UK. [Google Scholar]
  35. Howie, Geraldine Marian. 2015. Dioramas as Constructs of Reality: Art, Photography, and the Discursive Space. In Natural History Dioramas. Edited by Sue Dale Tunnicliffe and Anette Scheersoi. Dordrecht: Springer, pp. 39–65. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  36. Hughes, Robert. 1981. The Shock of the New: Art and the Century of Change. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, p. 444. [Google Scholar]
  37. Jacques, David. 2000. Modern needs, art and instincts: Modernist landscape theory. Garden History 28: 88–101. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  38. Jones, Michael. 2003. The Concept of Cultural Landscape: Discourse and Narratives. In Landscape Interfaces. Landscape Series; Edited by H. Palang and G. Fry. Dordrecht: Springer, vol. 1, pp. 21–51. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  39. Jóźwik, Anna. 2012. Glass and Its Technologies and the Contemporary City Culture. In Cultury of the City. Edited by Elżbieta Przesmycka and Trocka-Leszczyńska Elżbieta. Wrocław: Oficyna Wydawnicza Politechniki Wrocławskiej, pp. 51–58. [Google Scholar]
  40. Jóźwik, Renata. 2020. Landscape Visual Creation and Experience of Landscape in Green Rooftop Designs as a New Form of Urban Space. In Defining the Architectural Space—The Truth and Lie of Architecture. Wrocław: Oficyna Wydawnicza ATUT, Wrocławskie Wydawnictwo Oświatowe, vol. 6, pp. 73–84. [Google Scholar]
  41. Juchniewicz, Beata. 2018. Sense and sensibility. Two natures of architecture based on the MVRDV studio realisations of the Glass Farm project in Schijndel. In Defining the Architectural Space: Rationalistic or Intuitive Way to Architecture, Monograph. Edited by Tomasz Kozłowski. Kraków: Wydawnictwo Politechniki Krakowskiej, vol. 6, pp. 39–49. [Google Scholar]
  42. Karpenko, Valentina. 2015. The effects of mirror reflection from flat and curved translucent structures. MOTOROL. Commission of Motorisation and Energetics in Agriculture 17: 67–73. [Google Scholar]
  43. Kertész, André. 1936. L’électricité à la Maison. Paris: Compagnie Parisienne de Distribution D’électricité, Georges Lang imp. [Google Scholar]
  44. Krajewska, Joanna. 2019. Glass Façade as a Shopwindow and a Wall. The Relationship Between the Interior and the Exterior. In Interior. Exterior. Common Space. Wrocław: Oficyna Wydawnicza ATUT, Wrocławskie Wydawnictwo Oświatowe, vol. 1, pp. 117–24. [Google Scholar]
  45. Lawson, Bryan, and Kees Dorst. 2013. Design Expertise. Oxford: Taylor & Francis, p. 332. [Google Scholar]
  46. L’électricité à la Maison. 1934. Compagnie parisienne de distribution d’électricité, Georges Lang imp. [Google Scholar]
  47. Le Corbusier. 1923. Vers une Architecture. Paris: Éditions Crès, Collection de “L’Esprit Nouveau”, p. 284. [Google Scholar]
  48. Le Corbusier. 1925. Urbanisme. Paris: Crés, p. 284. [Google Scholar]
  49. Le Corbusier. 1932. Appartement avec terrasse, avenue des Champs-Elysées, à Paris. Architecte 10: 100–4. [Google Scholar]
  50. Le Corbusier. 1946. L’espace indicible. L’Architecture D’aujourd’hui Numéro Hors-Série, Avril 1946, 9–17. [Google Scholar]
  51. Lenzholzer, Sandra, Ingrid Duchhart, and Jusuck Koh. 2013. ‘Research through designing’ in landscape architecture. Landscape and Urban Planning 113: 120–27. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  52. Lévi-Strauss, Claude. 2015. Il Pensiero Selvaggio. Milano: Il Saggiatore, p. 330. [Google Scholar]
  53. Manovich, Lev. 2002. The Language of New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, p. 400. [Google Scholar]
  54. Massey, Doreen. 2006. Landscape as a provocation: Reflections on moving mountains. Journal of Material Culture 11: 33–48. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  55. Michałowska, Marianna. 2010. Fotografia i miasto—Dyskurs spojrzenia [English: Photography and the city—the discourse of gaze]. In Miasto w Sztuce—Sztuka Miasta. Edited by Ewa Rewers. Cracow: Universitas, pp. 413–29. [Google Scholar]
  56. Mozzato, Alioscia. 2018. L’immagine della cittŕ e la retorica dell’ossimoro. Le Corbusier e l’attico di Charles de Beistegui, FAMagazine. Ricerche e Progetti Sull’architettura e la Citta 45/46: 140–53. [Google Scholar]
  57. Norberg-Schulz, Christian. 1971. Existence, Space and Architecture. London: Studio Vista, p. 120. [Google Scholar]
  58. Oteros-Rozas, Elisa, Berta Martín-López, Nora Fagerholm, Claudia Bieling, and Tobias Plieninger. 2018. Using social media photos to explore the relation between cultural ecosystem services and landscape features across five European sites. Ecological Indicators 94: 74–86. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  59. Oxford Languages. 2022a. Display. Oxford: Oxford University Press. [Google Scholar]
  60. Oxford Languages. 2022b. Projection. Oxford: Oxford University Press. [Google Scholar]
  61. Pereira, Alonso, and José Ramón. 2013. Los dioramas de Le Corbusier. Cuadernos de Proyectos Arquitectónicos 4: 80–87. [Google Scholar]
  62. Pevsner, Nikolaus. 1968. Pioneers of Modern Design from William Morris to Walter Gropius. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, p. 378. [Google Scholar]
  63. Piaget, Jean. 1955. The Child’s Construction of Reality. London: Routledge & Paul, p. 386. [Google Scholar]
  64. Pianca, Guilherme. 2015. Le Corbusier and São Paulo—1929: Architecture and Landscape. Paper presented at the Le Corbusier, 50 years later. International Congress, Valencia, Spain; pp. 18–20. [Google Scholar]
  65. Potteiger, Matthew, and Jamie Purinton. 1998. Landscape Narratives: Design Practices for Telling Stories. Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons. [Google Scholar]
  66. Raaphorst, Kevin, Ingrid Duchhart, Wim van der Knaap, Gerda Roeleveld, and Adri van den Brink. 2017. The semiotics of landscape design communication: Towards a critical visual research approach in landscape architecture. Landscape Research 42: 120–33. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef] [Green Version]
  67. Relph, Edward. 2016. The Modern Urban Landscape. London: Routledge, p. 292. [Google Scholar]
  68. Rinella, Tiziano Aglieri. 2016. Decoding the “machine an emouvoir”: A psychoanalytic reading of Le Corbusier’s interiors. Paper presented at Encontro da Associação Nacional de Pesquisa e Pós-Graduação em Arquitetura e Urbanismo, Porto Alegre, Brazil, July 25–29; p. 25. Available online:,%20T.pdf (accessed on 17 November 2019).
  69. Rolland, Édouard. 2018. L’appartement Beistegui (1929–1938) par Le Corbusier et Pierre Jeanneret, ou la rencontre entre architecture puriste et décoration surréaliste. In Aménagement Intérieur et Cohabitation des Styles aux Epoques Moderne et Contemporaine. Edited by Claire Hendren, Barbara Jouves and Viraben Hadrien. Paris: Institut National d’Historie de l’Art, pp. 127–45. [Google Scholar]
  70. Seamon, David. 2000. A Way of Seeing People and Place: Phenomenology in Environment-Behavior Research. In Theoretical Perspectives in Environment-Behavior Research. Edited by Seymour Wapner, Jack Demick, Takiji Yamamoto and Hirofumi Minami. New York: Plenum, pp. 157–78. [Google Scholar]
  71. St Hill, Cate. 2017. Dyson Campus by Wilkinsoneyre. Design Curial. Available online: (accessed on 16 January 2022).
  72. Tafuri, Manfredo. 1986a. Machine et mémoire: La ville dans l’oeuvre de Le Corbusier. In Le Corbusier une Encyclopédie. Edited by Jacques Lucan. Paris: Centre Georges Pompidou. [Google Scholar]
  73. Tafuri, Manfredo. 1986b. Teoria e Storia Dell’architettura. Bari: Laterza, p. 358. [Google Scholar]
  74. Tafuri, Manfredo. 1987. Machine et memoire: The City in the Work of Le Corbusier. In Le Corbusier. Edited by Harold Allen Brooks. Princeton: Princeton University Press. [Google Scholar]
  75. Tokarczuk, Olga. 2019. Nobel Lecture by Olga Tokarczuk, Svenska Akademien. Available online: (accessed on 8 December 2019).
  76. Treib, Marc. 2013. Landscapes transitional, modern, modernistic, modernist. Journal of Landscape Architecture 8: 6–15. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  77. Vâlceanu, Daniel-Gabriel, Robert-Alexandru Kosa, and Diana-Georgiana Tamîrjan. 2014. Urban landscape as palimpsest. Urbanism. Arhitectură. Construcţii 5: 17–26. [Google Scholar]
  78. Valéry, Paul. 1964. The Conquest of Ubiquity. In Aesthetics. Translated by Ralph Mannheim. New York: Pantheon Books, p. 225. First published 1928. [Google Scholar]
  79. Van den Bergh, Wim. 2010. Charles de Beistegui Autobiography and Patronage. Oase: Tijdschrift voor Architectuur 83: 17–40. [Google Scholar]
  80. Veblen, Thorstein. 1934. The Theory of the Leisure Class. New York: Modern Library, p. 184. First published 1899. [Google Scholar]
  81. Velasquez, Victor. 2016. Architectural patrimony in the graphical representation of the Voisin Plan. Journal of Architecture and Urbanism 40: 229–39. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
  82. Vesely, Dalibor. 1996. Architecture and the Ambiguity of Fragment. In The Idea of the City. Edited by Robin Middleton. Cambridge: MIT Press, p. 115. [Google Scholar]
  83. Wang, David. 2013. Logical argumentation. In Architectural Research Methods. Edited by Linda N. Groat and David Wang. Hoboken, NJ, USA: John Wiley & Sons, pp. 379–415. [Google Scholar]
  84. Zaera, Alejandro. 1998. Incorporating: Interview with Jean Nouvel. In El Croquis Jean Nouvel 1987–1998. Paris: El Croquis, vols. 65/66, p. 31. [Google Scholar]
  85. Zube, Ervin H., James L. Sell, and Johnathan G. Taylor. 1982. Landscape perception: Research, application and theory. Landscape Planning, 1–33. [Google Scholar] [CrossRef]
Figure 1. The superstructure over the tenement house according to the design of Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret. Own graphic design 2022.
Figure 1. The superstructure over the tenement house according to the design of Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret. Own graphic design 2022.
Arts 11 00067 g001
Figure 2. The location of important places on the map of Paris impacted the Beistegui apartment—the Triumphal Arch, the Eiffel Tower, the Sacré-Coeur, the Notre Dame Catedral. Own study 2022.
Figure 2. The location of important places on the map of Paris impacted the Beistegui apartment—the Triumphal Arch, the Eiffel Tower, the Sacré-Coeur, the Notre Dame Catedral. Own study 2022.
Arts 11 00067 g002
Figure 3. Axonometry—the external view relations on the roof of the Beistegui apartment. Own study 2022.
Figure 3. Axonometry—the external view relations on the roof of the Beistegui apartment. Own study 2022.
Arts 11 00067 g003
Figure 4. Apartment roof projection showing internal view relations—narrative guidance of the viewer. Own study 2022.
Figure 4. Apartment roof projection showing internal view relations—narrative guidance of the viewer. Own study 2022.
Arts 11 00067 g004
Figure 5. (a) Upper terrace—living room; (b) lower terrace. Own graphic design 2022.
Figure 5. (a) Upper terrace—living room; (b) lower terrace. Own graphic design 2022.
Arts 11 00067 g005
Figure 6. A model of a weekend house on Long Island, NY, USA (Slow House Project). Photo: © Diller and Scofidio 1991.
Figure 6. A model of a weekend house on Long Island, NY, USA (Slow House Project). Photo: © Diller and Scofidio 1991.
Arts 11 00067 g006
Figure 7. Entrance area on the ground floor of the Fen Court building at 120 Fenchurch Street, London, with a screen suspended from the lobby ceiling. Photo: Anna Jóźwik, London in 2019.
Figure 7. Entrance area on the ground floor of the Fen Court building at 120 Fenchurch Street, London, with a screen suspended from the lobby ceiling. Photo: Anna Jóźwik, London in 2019.
Arts 11 00067 g007
Figure 8. (a) Façade of the Cartier Foundation building in Paris; (b) close-up showing the superimposition of plans through the transparency and reflexivity of glass. Photo: Anna Jóźwik, Paris in 2011.
Figure 8. (a) Façade of the Cartier Foundation building in Paris; (b) close-up showing the superimposition of plans through the transparency and reflexivity of glass. Photo: Anna Jóźwik, Paris in 2011.
Arts 11 00067 g008
Figure 9. A mirror image of the Dolomite landscape on the facade of the Mirror Houses in Bolzano. Photo: © Oskar Da Riz.
Figure 9. A mirror image of the Dolomite landscape on the facade of the Mirror Houses in Bolzano. Photo: © Oskar Da Riz.
Arts 11 00067 g009
Figure 10. Mirror images of the surrounding landscape on the facade of the Dyson 9 building in Malmesbury. Photo: © Peter Landers and WilkinsonEyre.
Figure 10. Mirror images of the surrounding landscape on the facade of the Dyson 9 building in Malmesbury. Photo: © Peter Landers and WilkinsonEyre.
Arts 11 00067 g010
Figure 11. Reflections of the city landscape at Glass Farm in Schijndel. Photo: © Daria Scagliola and Stijn Brakkee.
Figure 11. Reflections of the city landscape at Glass Farm in Schijndel. Photo: © Daria Scagliola and Stijn Brakkee.
Arts 11 00067 g011
Publisher’s Note: MDPI stays neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

Share and Cite

MDPI and ACS Style

Jóźwik, R.; Jóźwik, A. Landscape Projection and Its Technological Use in Conceptualising Places and Architecture. Arts 2022, 11, 67.

AMA Style

Jóźwik R, Jóźwik A. Landscape Projection and Its Technological Use in Conceptualising Places and Architecture. Arts. 2022; 11(4):67.

Chicago/Turabian Style

Jóźwik, Renata, and Anna Jóźwik. 2022. "Landscape Projection and Its Technological Use in Conceptualising Places and Architecture" Arts 11, no. 4: 67.

Note that from the first issue of 2016, this journal uses article numbers instead of page numbers. See further details here.

Article Metrics

Back to TopTop