As I stood at the edge of Punta del Este, Uruguay, I marveled at the wild beauty of the place. We were at Punta de las Salinas, the very tip of the peninsula, the edge of where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Río de la Plata. This easternmost point of Uruguay, where time feels suspended as restless waves crash against rocky shores. A sea breeze carries a distinct salty tang.
This is at Great Britain Square, Punta de las Salinas of Punta del Este. We are at the tip of the peninsula, the easternmost point of Uruguay. Punta del Este, Departamento de Maldonado, Uruguay
Pam, my wife, stood beside me, a bright smile on her face as the ocean wind tugged at her sunhat. Behind her, rising among the rocks, was an art installation that seemed to embody the spirit of the place “El Canto de las Sirenas” (The Song of the Mermaids). These sculptures by the artist Lily Perkins, their forms shaped and worn by the elements, appeared almost as though they were natural extensions of the rocky coastline. They gazed out to sea, their haunting beauty a poignant reminder of myth and humanity’s eternal connection with the ocean.
The sirens, crafted with an earthy texture and adorned with bits of marine debris, seemed to tell a story of resilience and adaptation. They stood stoically against the backdrop of the churning waves, their barnacle-like surfaces merging seamlessly with their rugged surroundings. I felt a strange connection to them, as if they were silent witnesses to the ever-changing dance of the sea and sky.
Pam during our 2016 South American tour. This is at Great Britain Square, Punta de las Salinas of Punta del Este. We are at the tip of the peninsula, the easternmost point of Uruguay. Over her shoulder is the art installation “El Canto de las Sirenas” (The Song of the Mermaids) (2012) by the artist Lily Perkins. Punta del Este, Departamento de Maldonado, Uruguay
The morning was perfect for photography. I adjusted my Canon camera, capturing the interplay of light and shadow across the jagged rocks, the turquoise waves, and the statues. The textures of the sirens came alive through the lens, each detail hinting at the passage of time and the endless conversations between water and stone. Pam posed in front of one of the sculptures, her presence adding a touch of humanity to the scene, as though she were part of this mythological tableau.
I took a moment to step back and absorb the scene. The coastline stretched out before me, rugged and raw, with the waves crashing in an eternal rhythm. The sirens belonged here, their forms shaped artist hands, then also by the elements. They merged into this unique place, much like the wind, the rocks, and the ocean.
As we walked along the rocky outcrop, the sound of the waves filled the air, drowning out any other noise. It was easy to lose oneself in the hypnotic patterns of the water, the spray catching the sunlight like tiny jewels. I found myself reflecting on the history of this place—Punta del Este, a meeting point of cultures and stories, a place where the natural world and human creativity converge.
Great Britain Square, where we started this journey, seemed an apt setting for such an installation. The name itself evokes a sense of exploration and connection across vast distances, much like the sirens that seem to call out across the waves. The symbolism was not lost on me as I thought about how we, too, were travelers, drawn to the edges of the earth by a desire to explore and understand.
Plaza Gran Bretana (Great Britain Square) is named for the World War II naval battle near here between the German battleship Graf Spee and the English ships Ajax, Achilles and Exeter. The plaza also has an anchor marking the boundary between Rio de la Plata and the Atlantic Ocean.
Pam and I lingered for a while longer, taking in the scenery and enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. The sculptures seemed almost alive, their forms shifting subtly as the light changed. They reminded me of the stories of sirens from ancient mythology—creatures that lured sailors to their doom with their enchanting voices. But here, they seemed more like guardians, watching over the waters and the land, their presence a testament to the enduring power of art and nature.
As the morning wore on, we made our way back, leaving the sirens behind to their eternal vigil. The experience stayed with me, though, a vivid memory of a place where myth and reality intertwine. Punta de las Salinas, with its rugged beauty and its mysterious sirens, had left an indelible mark on my heart.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
The Finger Lakes region, renowned for its natural beauty and changing seasons, put on a stunning performance on October 24, 2024. From the vibrant reds of a Japanese maple (Acer palmatum) to the golden hues of oak leaves (Quercus spp.), this photographic journey through our home captures the essence of autumn in upstate New York.
A Panoramic Tapestry
In the first photograph, the landscape unfolds like a watercolor painting. Hills dressed in fiery oranges and golds stretch across the horizon, with hints of evergreen pines (Pinus spp.) providing contrast. The sky, dotted with wispy clouds, serves as a serene backdrop, while the foreground frames the scene with bare tree limbs—a reminder that autumn is both a celebration of life and a prelude to winter’s dormancy. This image evokes a sense of timelessness, connecting us to the rolling hills that have witnessed countless seasons of change.
View from our porch across Ithaca to East Hill, Cornell University, Ithaca Falls on an October 2024 afternoon. Tompkins County, Finger Lakes Region, New York State
Japanese Maple: A Crimson Jewel
The next series of images focuses on the Japanese maple (Acer palmatum), a tree whose vibrant red foliage becomes a magnet for admiration in autumn. One close-up reveals delicate leaves, their intricate lobes illuminated by the afternoon sun. The interplay of light and shadow transforms each leaf into a tiny stained-glass window. Another photograph showcases the tree in its entirety, a commanding presence against the verdant lawn. It is a poignant reminder of nature’s artistry, where every branch and leaf contributes to the symphony of color.
Firebush and Japanese Maple in autumn colorsJapanese maple leaves and samara in autumn colors. From our yard October 2024Japanese maple leaves and samara in autumn colors. From our yard October 2024
Home Amid the Foliage
Nestled within this autumnal palette is our home, a mid-century structure that seems almost inseparable from its surroundings. The expansive lawn, a lush carpet of green, contrasts with the fiery colors of nearby oak (Quercus spp.) and maple trees (Acer spp.). In one angle, the house appears almost tucked away, sheltered by Eastern Hemlock (Tsuga canadensis) and junipers (Juniperus spp.) that add a sense of permanence to the scene. This juxtaposition of human habitation and natural splendor underscores how our lives are intertwined with the land we call home.
Our oak trees in autumn colors
Oak Leaves: A Study in Texture
A close-up of oak leaves (Quercus spp.) showcases their rugged beauty, with jagged edges and deep veins that seem etched by time itself. Their colors—ranging from deep amber to burnished copper—are a testament to the richness of autumn’s palette. These leaves, clinging tenaciously to their branches, remind us of resilience and the fleeting beauty of the season.
Our oak tree in autumn colors. Helmock backdrop
Hydrangeas in Transition
The hydrangea bushes (Hydrangea paniculata) by the house present a softer side of autumn. Their once-vivid blooms have faded to pastel pinks and creams, lending an air of nostalgia. These flowers, in their gentle decline, mirror the transition of the season, where vibrancy gives way to a quieter beauty. The hydrangea blooms seem to whisper the story of the summer past, offering a delicate contrast to the bolder hues of the surrounding trees.
Our oak tree in autumn colors. Pam’s hydrangia.
The Resilient Shrubs
Creeping Juniper (Juniperus horizontalis), here in the foreground, provides a grounding element in the composition, with a steadfast green the reminder of life persisting even as deciduous leaves fall. The dense shrubbery near the house creates a protective cocoon, framing the building with a sense of natural security. The dynamic interplay between these evergreens and the changing foliage of maples and oaks reflects the layered complexity of this landscape.
Reflections on an Afternoon
As I wandered through these scenes with camera in hand, I was struck by the interplay of light, color, and texture. Each photograph captures a fleeting moment, a slice of a season that, despite its predictability, never fails to surprise and inspire. Autumn in the Finger Lakes is a time of reflection, a reminder to pause and appreciate the world around us.
These images, taken on a single afternoon, tell a story of a landscape alive with color and character. From the steadfast junipers to the delicate hydrangea blooms, from the fiery maples to the enduring oaks, they invite us to celebrate not just the beauty of nature but also our place within it—a home nestled among trees that have stood for decades, witnessing the rhythms of the earth.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
I had a haunting experience at Cocoa Beach, witnessing a rare fogbow—a ghostly arc formed by fine mist—evoking emotions and reflections on nature’s beauty.
The fog haunted Cocoa Beach for days, softening the edges of the afternoon. I had been walking along Cocoa Beach, feeling the cool ocean breeze on my face, when I noticed a change in the light. It was a little after four, the sun drifting lower in the western sky, its warmth fading into a hazy glow. The air smelled of salt and mist, and waves lapped gently at the shore, their rhythm unbroken by the deepening fog.
And then I saw it.
A pale arc stretched across the horizon, a ghost of a rainbow bending above the waves. At first, I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks on me—where were the usual bright bands of red, orange, and violet? But no, the arc was real, a fogbow, forming where sunlight met the fine sea mist. Unlike the rainbows that appear after summer storms, this one was almost entirely white, as if the ocean had conjured it from air and silence.
Sailors once whispered of such things—a white rainbow at sea, a sign of hidden land or wandering souls. Some believed it to be a bridge between realms, a fleeting passage where the living and the lost might momentarily brush against one another. Others saw it as an omen, a spectral warning of treacherous fog ahead. I wondered what the mariners of old might have thought, standing at the bow of a ship, watching a pale arc rise from the mist, its edges dissolving like breath against glass.
I stood still, watching, as the science of the moment unfolded before me. Unlike traditional rainbows, which form when light bends through large raindrops, fogbows are born from infinitesimally smaller droplets, often less than 0.1 millimeters in diameter. Their size diffuses the light, scattering it so finely that the colors blend together into a spectral whisper rather than a vibrant shout. The physics of it fascinated me—this was diffraction in action, nature bending light in a way that rendered it nearly colorless.
The effect was surreal. The fogbow arched over the breaking waves like something out of a dream, a halo of sea and sky, momentary yet timeless. It seemed to pulse in the shifting mist, visible one moment, fading the next, as if deciding whether to reveal itself fully or slip back into the fog’s embrace.
For several minutes, I just stood there, taking it in. The world felt different inside that mist, quieter, more reflective. The fog dampened the usual sounds of the beach—the calls of shorebirds, the laughter of distant walkers—leaving only the hush of the waves and the distant hum of the ocean’s breath.
I knew that fogbows were rare, requiring just the right balance of thin fog, moisture, and a low-angled sun. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time, a witness to something subtle yet profound.
And just as silently as it had appeared, the fogbow began to dissolve. The mist thickened, swallowing its arc, the sky shifting back to its usual muted gray. But the memory of it lingered—a white rainbow over the sea, ephemeral and elusive, like a secret the ocean had briefly chosen to share.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Arcosanti, envisioned by Paolo Soleri, exemplifies sustainable urban living but faces challenges in realization, scalability, and contemporary relevance.
Arcosanti, the brainchild of architect Paolo Soleri, was conceived as an experimental laboratory for urban design and ecological principles—a built embodiment of his vision of Arcology (a fusion of “architecture” and “ecology”). Over fifty years since its groundbreaking in 1970, Arcosanti remains a significant cultural and architectural artifact. However, the meaning and relevance of both Arcosanti and Arcology in today’s context invite critical examination.
The accompanying photographs are a presentation of the history of Arcology from Arcosanti signage
Arcosanti 5000 — Soleri’s Ultimate Vision
Historical Context and the Vision of Arcology
Soleri’s concept of Arcology emerged during the mid-20th century, an era of increasing environmental awareness, urban sprawl, and population growth. His vision was radical: compact, self-sustaining urban environments that minimized ecological impact while fostering human interaction and creativity. Arcology sought to challenge the sprawling, resource-intensive models of urban development that dominate the modern world.
Today’s population of the Earth is about 5 billion people. By the year 2050 the population of the Earth will be 10 billion people.* With the same human condition of today and the same stresses imposed on the biosphere, there would be the need for 2 Earths.
Since the American Dream society has an average per capita “consumption” about 20 times the average per capita consumption of the whole human society, for the 10 billion people of the year 2050 to be “elevated” to the American Dream’s affluence level, there would be the need of 2 x 20 = 40 Planet Earths.
Assuming that by then we all will be twice as efficient in our production-consumption-gratification pursuits, we would need only 19 more planets. Where are we going to get 19 additional Planet Earths?
The American Dream physically embodied in the single-family house has to be scrapped and reinvented in terms which are coherent with the human and biospheric reality.
Toward a Possible Resolution
Only a true, lean urbanization strung along a highly efficient, i.e., frugal logistical grid combining superconductivity-maglev transportation of people and freight, viaducts, aqueducts, power grids, sewage and solid waste grids, etc., compensating for the loss of consumption-gratification unlimited by the way of an intense social, convivial, natural, esthetic, productive, sane life; only such novel structure will be able to translate the American Dream into a democratic, planetary reality.
The alternative, to persist in the dying American Dream, is a planetary-human catastrophe.
The subject matter of this exhibit is about one aspect of the possible resolution. It would couple indissolubly the well-being of Homo sapiens, 10 billion of us, with the well-being of the only planet we can inhabit for the time being.
All statistics based on 1993 United Nations data cited by the Worldwatch Institute.
(signed) Paolo Soleri
Arcosanti was intended to be a prototype—a proof of concept for dense urban living within a minimal environmental footprint. Its design embraced verticality, integration with natural surroundings, and multi-use spaces to reduce resource consumption. Soleri’s philosophy rejected wasteful consumerism and emphasized communal living, self-sufficiency, and harmony with nature.
Arcosanti as a Realization of Arcology
While Soleri’s ideas were visionary, Arcosanti itself never fully realized its original ambitions. Planned to house 5,000 people, it currently accommodates fewer than 100 residents. This gap between aspiration and reality reflects several challenges:
Paolo Soleri had established his residence and studios in Paradise Valley, Arizona, before he embarked on developing alternative urban theories. Although the Cosanti structures are small, Soleri experimented with various innovative construction techniques, including silt casting, to demonstrate effective use of building materials. His imaginative forms were adapted to the desert environment, and Cosanti became the exploratory launching pad for the Arcosanti project.
Scale and Funding: Building a sustainable community of this scale required vast financial and organizational resources. Arcosanti, largely constructed through volunteer labor and workshops, lacked the momentum to expand at the pace Soleri envisioned.
Upon completion of his theoretical work MESA CITY, whose purpose was the quest for an environment in harmony with man, Soleri established the Cosanti Foundation, a non-profit educational foundation. He was determined to continue his investigations into more efficient urban systems. To demonstrate his theories, Soleri proposed an urban-scale community MACRO COSANTI, envisioned for Arizona high desert.
Cultural Shifts: The communal living and austerity championed by Soleri contrast sharply with the consumer-driven values of contemporary society. The rise of globalized capitalism, suburban expansion, and digital individualism has made the communal ethos less appealing to many.
The term ARCOLOGY was coined to describe a series of urban designs for ecologically sound human habitats, as elaborated in “The City in the Image of Man,” published by MIT Press. This thesis outlines the concept of ARCOLOGY and its design variations for different settings. ARCOSANTI was introduced as the last (30th) example of this exercise, and originally planned to house a relatively small population of 500. The physical construction of ARCOSANTI began in 1970.
Technological Advances: Soleri’s designs were innovative for their time, but modern advancements in sustainable technology—such as solar power, green building materials, and decentralized energy systems—have surpassed some of his ideas. Today, sustainable urbanism focuses on retrofitting existing cities rather than building entirely new ones.
The Relevance of Arcology Today
Despite its limitations, Arcology remains profoundly relevant in the face of 21st-century challenges such as climate change, resource scarcity, and urban overpopulation. Soleri’s principles offer a framework to address these crises, particularly through:
The Xerox Corporation sponsored a major Soleri exhibition featuring a series of new arcology designs that suggested a sustainable urban habitat employing alternative energy sources. The project was called “TWO SUNS ARCOLOGY: The Cities Energized by the Sun.” The Arcosanti master plan went through a major overhaul reflecting this methodology. In the following year, PLANT SHOW venues gave Soleri additional funding to update the Arcosanti design. The projected population was increased to 5,000.
Compact Urbanism: Cities worldwide are grappling with the environmental toll of urban sprawl. Arcology’s emphasis on vertical, compact cities with reduced land usage aligns with the modern push for urban densification.
Ten years into the construction of the first prototype arcology, a developmental adjustment was made in order to gain momentum for the project. The CRITICAL MASS concept was introduced as an incremental phase to house 10 percent of the projected population of 5,000. A series of small-scale structures providing various amenities was designed to support a viable community, a critical population of 500 people. This would hopefully function as a springboard to the next major step, the completion of Arcosanti.
Mixed-Use and Communal Spaces: The COVID-19 pandemic underscored the importance of walkable, mixed-use neighborhoods and shared green spaces. Arcology’s model of integrated living and working spaces anticipates these needs.
Sustainability and Circular Systems: Soleri’s focus on minimizing waste and resource use aligns with today’s circular economy principles. Arcology’s ideas resonate with efforts to design cities as closed-loop systems that reuse resources.
The apse initiative was a result of an expanded version of the Third Generation Arcology using Soleri’s signature forms: Apse and Exedra. This initiative suggests possible solutions to the existing urban renewal opportunities (Presidio, Stapleton, Phoenix, and Hanover Expo 2000) as well as hypothetical rural development opportunities. ARCOSANTI 2000 consists of 3 major units. The design was modified later with an addition of SUPER CRITICAL MASS (THE WAVES), three superstructure apses combined and placed behind Critical …
A Philosophical Challenge: Beyond practical urban design, Arcology challenges us to rethink our relationship with the planet and with each other. It invites a fundamental shift from individualistic consumption to collective stewardship.
Critique of Arcosanti Today
Arcosanti, while iconic, serves more as a symbol than a fully functioning example of Arcology. Its limited population and incomplete development highlight key shortcomings:
Lack of Scalability: Arcosanti has not demonstrated how Arcology principles can scale to meet the needs of modern cities with millions of inhabitants.
ARCOSANTI 5000
2001 – present
Developed from the SUPER CRITICAL MASS in ARCOSANTI 2000 with the design elements of NUDGING SPACE ARCOLOGY added, ARCOSANTI 5000 features seven phases of truncated superapse structures. It re-establishes the macro nature of this prototype arcology for 5,000 people. This design is still in development, waiting on the architectural and structural resolutions.
Dependence on External Systems: Despite its aspirations for self-sufficiency, Arcosanti relies on external power grids, supply chains, and tourism, which limits its autonomy.
Cultural Niche: Arcosanti appeals primarily to a niche audience of artists, architects, and environmentalists, making it less accessible or appealing to broader populations.
However, these critiques do not negate its value as a learning tool. Arcosanti’s enduring presence serves as a physical and philosophical case study for those seeking alternatives to conventional urbanism.
A Way Forward?
The future of Arcology lies not in building new Arcosanti-like prototypes but in applying its principles to existing cities and communities. Initiatives such as urban vertical farming, passive solar building design, and car-free city centers echo Soleri’s vision in modern contexts.
Additionally, Arcosanti itself could pivot toward becoming a research hub for sustainable practices, a cultural landmark, or a retreat for those seeking inspiration in Soleri’s ideas. By focusing on education and experimentation, it could remain relevant in contemporary discussions about urbanism and ecology.
Conclusion
Arcosanti and Arcology are more than relics of a bygone architectural movement—they are reminders of humanity’s potential to live in balance with nature. While the practical implementation of Arcology faces significant hurdles, its core philosophy continues to inspire efforts to create more sustainable and harmonious urban environments. In a world increasingly shaped by environmental urgency, Soleri’s vision holds lessons we cannot afford to ignore.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
The desert air was sharp, dry, and oddly invigorating as I stepped into the gallery at Arcosanti, Arizona. The year was 2005, and I had long dreamed of visiting this experimental micro-city—a fusion of architecture and ecology conceived by Paolo Soleri. Amidst the array of sketches, photographs, and miniature prototypes stood the centerpiece of my curiosity: the sprawling, intricate scale model of “Arcosanti 5000.” It was as though the future had been condensed into a tangible artifact, whispering promises of an alternative way of living.
The model was perched on a wooden table, surrounded by blueprints and diagrams. Its sweeping curves and layered structures evoked the natural patterns of a canyon or the unfurling petals of a desert flower. I leaned in, drawn to its labyrinthine details: the arches that seemed to embrace the air itself, the layered grids suggesting terraces and communal spaces, and the towering central spire—a striking focal point that anchored the design. The model was an architectural plan, a vision made tactile, a conversation between the human spirit and the earth it inhabits.
As I circled the table, I tried to imagine life within these walls. Here was the apse architecture that Soleri had championed—a structural form both futuristic and deeply rooted in the land. Its curves seemed to reject the cold rigidity of modern urbanity, embracing instead a harmonious fluidity. What would it feel like to wake up in one of these units, to look out through those sweeping arches and see the desert alive with light and shadow?
The plaque nearby described this design as part of a “Super Critical Mass” initiative, envisioned for a population of 5,000. The model represented an evolution from earlier prototypes, incorporating what Soleri called “nudging spaces”—areas designed to encourage spontaneous human interaction. I thought of my own neighborhood back home, how it felt fractured and isolated by its grids of asphalt and fenced-off yards. Could this model offer a blueprint for healing that divide?
I moved closer, tracing the pathways with my eyes. The tiny staircases, the shaded atriums, the terraced gardens—they spoke of a life integrated with nature, of a city that tread lightly upon its environment. The thought was thrilling, but also sobering. The challenges of realizing such a vision in the sprawling chaos of modern development loomed large in my mind. Could humanity ever truly embrace such radical simplicity?
In that moment, the gallery was silent except for the soft click of my camera. I wanted to capture not just the model, but the feeling it evoked—the delicate balance of hope and humility. The metadata on the image files would later remind me of the precise day and hour I stood there, absorbing this vision of what might be. But no timestamp could fully capture the spark it ignited—a sense that, even in a world burdened by consumption and waste, there remained a path forward, winding like a desert trail through arches of light and shadow.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
The Pulse Bridge model embodies Paolo Soleri’s vision, merging architecture and philosophy to inspire adaptability, connection, and beauty in urban landscapes.
For me room was hushed, as if holding its breath in reverence for the dreams of a man who dared to reimagine not just buildings, but entire landscapes. I stood before the model of the Pulse Bridge, a work envisioned by the inimitable architect and philosopher Paolo Soleri. This was a living, breathing entity in miniature—a whisper of the city’s heartbeat rendered in metal and form.
PULSE BRIDGE is conceived for the New York cityscape and designed so as to alter its own stress configuration according to the traffic loads it carries and the temperature and wind variations. It does not so much react to such stresses as it dynamically adapts to them. This is achieved by suspending the whole structure on two sets of hinges and altering the weight distribution by way of four ballast spheres, constantly changing in weight because of the water volume they contain and is pouring in or spilling out of each. Temperature differential and wind loads will suggest asymmetrical ballast content.
The bridge stretched across the table, a golden ribbon suspended in perpetual motion. Its delicate cables, taut and slender, mirrored the veins of a great urban organism. I leaned closer, catching the glint of light on the brass framework, which seemed to hum with possibility. The slanted pylons, bold and angled at 45 degrees, rose like colossal compass points charting a path into a future yet unbuilt. Their elegant incline gave the structure a sense of poise and power, as though it were both rooted in the earth and ready to leap skyward.
At either end of the model, spherical ballast weights gleamed like captive suns, their surfaces smooth and luminous. These orbs symbolized adaptability, a dynamic response to the unpredictable forces of wind, weight, and weather. Soleri’s genius was palpable in these spheres—each a small, controlled impulse that could tip, pour, or hold water to balance the bridge’s pulse, much like the human heart adjusts its rhythm to life’s demands.
As I circled the model, I noticed how the bridge’s levels—three distinct layers—seemed to invite a diversity of life. The uppermost level promised a vista for pedestrians and the rhythmic flow of cars. Beneath, a middle layer hinted at a mix of vehicles and trucks, and the lowest level seemed destined for the silent hum of trains, utilities, and unseen infrastructure. It was a symphony of movement, each level contributing its own notes to the city’s harmony.
And yet, the most captivating feature was not the mechanics or the engineering marvels, but the philosophy embedded within. Soleri’s vision was not just to build a bridge, but to craft an experience—a structure that could breathe, flex, and adapt to the ever-changing pulse of New York. He imagined the pylons as cultural hubs, housing optical museums, exhibitions on bridge history, and even gift shops. The bridge was as much about connecting people as it was about connecting places.
Standing there, I felt the weight of Soleri’s ambition. The Pulse Bridge was a manifesto, a declaration that utilitarian structures could inspire wonder and nurture life. I imagined walking across its span, the city stretching out on either side, the bridge subtly shifting beneath my feet as it responded to the flow of traffic and the gusts of wind. It would be a conversation between structure and environment, a dialogue that reminded me of the living world we so often take for granted.
The longer I stood before the model, the more I realized it was not just a reflection of Soleri’s imagination but a challenge to our own. Could we build a future where beauty and function danced together, where even a bridge could sing of resilience and grace? The Pulse Bridge dared us to try.
In that quiet room, with sunlight streaming through the windows and casting delicate shadows across the model, I felt the profound allure of what could be. Soleri’s bridge was an idea—a luminous thread connecting visionaries across time, urging us all to dream bigger, build better, and embrace the pulse of life in all its complexity.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Under a strong early spring desert sun I turned from Arcosanti Road, a ribbon of asphalt threading through the arid Arizona landscape. Ahead, the architectural vision of Paolo Soleri emerged like an oasis of ideas etched into the barren desert. My mind drifted back to the 1970s, to the University of Arizona lecture hall where Soleri, full of vigor, had introduced us to his concept of “Arcology.” That hour left an indelible mark—a vision of dense human habitation harmonizing with the environment, reducing our ecological footprint toward a sustainable whole.
Arcosanti detail
That memory had stayed with me, a beacon of idealism. Over the years, Soleri’s Arcosanti had grown, not with the speed of cities, but with the deliberate rhythm of an organic organism. Today, after decades of curiosity and connection, I found myself at its gates.
Click any photograph to visit my “Arizona” online gallery.
Pam checking her equipment before a Summer 2008 visit
The first steps into Arcosanti struck me with a sense of balance. A sign, simple yet bold, announced the name: ARCOSANTI. It was embedded into a wooden facade, juxtaposed with the rugged modernity of concrete forms. Below, soft plumes of desert grass swayed, echoing the harmony Soleri envisioned—a human footprint gently integrated into the natural world. The sunlit entrance spoke of the potential for design to soothe rather than overpower.
Entrance and a Tower of the Crafts III building
Inside, the bold lines and unique details captivated me. In one space, I craned my neck to admire a ceiling adorned with terracotta-colored circular forms, each embedded in angular panels radiating like the sun’s rays. These circular elements acted as focal points, their symmetry grounding the expansive, textured design. The play of light and shadow across the surface was mesmerizing, a reminder of Soleri’s mastery in turning the utilitarian into the poetic.
Ceramics Apse Sand Cast Panels I
Each space in Arcosanti seemed crafted to evoke reflection. A splash of ochre-red pigment adorned another portion of the ceiling, forming a half-circle bordered by precise ridges. It was more than architectural detail—it was an abstract sun, warm and full of energy, radiating from its place above. The deliberate asymmetry, the interplay of form and texture, seemed to breathe with the desert itself.
Ceramics Apse Sand Cast Panels II
Ceramics Apse Sand Cast Panels III
Walking further, I encountered an outdoor arch framing a bell, its heavy bronze form suspended against a panel of sky-blue. The simplicity was striking: a geometric dialogue between the natural and the constructed, a kind of meditative pause within the bustle of ideas. I lingered, allowing my thoughts to settle as the bell swayed gently in the wind.
Bell and Panel from the Colly Soleri Amphitheater
Bell Casting was and continues to be a major source of income.
Each turn at Arcosanti revealed yet another viewpoint, another carefully composed alignment of architecture and nature. The sweeping views of the Arizona desert, framed by bold circular cutouts, were a reminder of our smallness in the grand scheme of things. The cypress trees standing tall against the rugged cliffs offered a contrast of textures—natural and man-made—that felt uniquely Solerian. His vision was alive in every corner: the terraces, the staircases, the unassuming balance between the earth’s rawness and humanity’s imagination.
View from the East Housing complex to the East Across Arcosanti
As I stood gazing through one of the monumental circular frames at the horizon, I reflected on how Soleri’s ideas, abstract in the present, are also tangible, concrete, and inspiring—literally and figuratively. Despite his passing, the project he began decades ago continues to evolve, a living experiment in how we might reimagine our relationship with the planet.
View to the South with Cypress Trees from a Portal of the Crafts III Building
The journey to Arcosanti is a physical one and a rediscovery of ideals. Soleri’s Arcology—a fusion of architecture and ecology—reminded me of our potential to create something not only functional but also deeply meaningful. Here, amidst the Arizona desert, was proof of a life’s work that still speaks to humanity’s potential for coexistence and creativity.
As I prepared to leave, the weight of Soleri’s vision stayed with me, much like that lecture hall memory from all those years ago. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the concrete forms. Arcosanti stood resolute, a tribute to one man’s dream and a reminder to all of us: change is not instantaneous, but with patience, vision, and humanity, it is possible.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Approaching Arcosanti from afar, a cluster of forms rising from the Arizona desert like a mirage of human imagination. Against the cobalt sky, the buildings seemed to breathe with the land itself, their curves and edges echoing the undulations of the hillside. From this distance, the structures were both distant dream and solid reality, their symmetry a whispered promise of order amidst the chaos of the wild.
As I moved closer, the buildings revealed their intricate secrets. Circular windows stared like unblinking eyes, portals to a world shaped by creativity and purpose. Towers and cubes jutted confidently into space, their bold geometry softened by the earthen hues of concrete and weathered wood. These materials, neither foreign nor intrusive, seemed born of the very soil beneath my feet. There was an undeniable rhythm to the place—a harmony where art, function, and the timeless desert converged.
I walked among the structures, their forms towering above me like sentinels of some ancient philosophy reborn for a modern age. The elevated walkways beckoned with a quiet invitation, connecting one sanctuary of thought to another. Circular motifs repeated like a mantra, reminding me of the cycles of life, of the sun and the moon, of the unbroken circles that hold us together. Here, design was not merely a tool but a hymn, sung in concrete and glass.
Then, I turned my gaze outward, to the land that cradled this creation. The desert was alive, though its voice was quiet and deliberate. Rocks, worn smooth by the patient hand of time, rested among tufts of sage and grasses that swayed in the breeze. The light played its own game, casting shadows that danced across the ground, a choreography as old as the sun. Paths meandered through this terrain, their curves a gentle suggestion rather than a command, inviting me to wander but not to conquer.
Arcosanti
The trees stood tall and still, their presence both steadfast and serene. The cypress trees, their slender forms reaching toward heaven, seemed like exclamation points on the landscape, their verdant green cutting through the sky’s azure expanse. Beside them, olive trees spread their silvered arms, their gnarled trunks telling stories of endurance and quiet strength. One cypress, in particular, caught my attention—so perfectly straight, so impossibly regal, as if it had been planted by the hand of a god.
Beneath the olive trees, I paused, tracing my fingers along the bark’s intricate patterns. The sunlight filtered through the leaves in golden shards, dappling the earth beneath with shifting shapes. The air carried the scent of something ancient and vital—a blend of dry earth, sun-warmed bark, and the faintest hint of blooming life. It was a reminder that even in this place of human creation, nature reigned supreme.
I wandered to the edge of a canyon, its rugged walls carved by time’s relentless flow. The raw power of the landscape stretched out before me, a tapestry of stone and shadow that humbled and awed. Here, the boundaries between human vision and natural grandeur blurred. The olive and cypress trees, so carefully placed, seemed less an intrusion and more a part of the desert’s rhythm. They were a bridge, a whispered conversation between what is made and what simply is.
Finally, the paths called me back, their winding lines leading me deeper into reflection. Each step felt deliberate, as though I were tracing the lines of a poem etched into the earth. The trails curved gently, like the desert’s own breath, and I followed, not as an intruder but as a guest. The buildings now stood behind me, a testament to the balance we strive for—between the ephemeral dreams we build and the eternal landscape that cradles them.
This place is a meeting of stone and sky, a meditation: reminding us that, if we listen, the land will teach us how to live in harmony. Here, in the desert’s embrace, I found space to ask better questions, my heart as open and unbroken as the endless horizon before me.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
As I stood within the hallowed confines of Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral in Cork City, Ireland, I found myself drawn to the intricate artistry that tells the story of faith, resilience, and devotion. The figures and symbols within this magnificent edifice bring to life the history of Saint Fin Barre as well as the broader narrative of Christian tradition and its enduring influence on the region.
Near the entrance, the cylindrical pulpit’s relief figures of five evangelists captured my imagination. Here was the relief of Saint Paul seated with his characteristic sword, a symbol of both his martyrdom and the “sword of the Spirit” from chapter 6, verse 17 of the New Testiment Epistle to the Ephesians. His hand gestures toward the heavens, as if calling upon divine guidance to symbolize his role as an intermediary or messenger of God’s revelation. The rich green of his robes, juxtaposed against the golden background, speaks of hope, growth, and the everlasting promise of salvation. Here I found Saint Paul embodying the courage and conviction needed to preach and defend the faith—a sentiment that resonates deeply in the cathedral’s design and purpose.
Saint Paul
Rounding the circle, another relief brought Saint Mark to life. With the lion at his side, Saint Mark writes intently, reminding us of his contributions to the Gospels. The warm, earthy tones of his attire and the contemplative tilt of his head evoke the diligence and introspection of a writer who draws inspiration from divine revelation. The lion, its expression both fierce and loyal, represents courage and the Gospel’s enduring power.
Saint Mark
The cathedral’s external sculptures echo these individual representations of the apostles, where stone figures silently stand guard at the west entrance. The central figure of my photograph, holding a scroll in his left hand and a long cudgel (club) in his right, is Saint James the Less (also known as James the Minor). The scroll symbolizes his role spreading the word of God. The cudgel alludes to his martyrdom, as tradition holds that his executioners brutally beat him to death with such a club. His serene expression contrasts with Saint Paul, on the left, who holds the traditional “sword of the spirit” of his Epistle to the Ephesians. These carvings are spiritual sentinels, inviting visitors to contemplate the legacy of those who laid the foundations of the Church.
As the patron saint of the city, Saint Fin Barre’s enduring legacy profoundly impacts Cork’s spiritual and cultural history. His legacy dates back to the 7th century when he established a monastic settlement on the site where the cathedral now stands. This sacred location has witnessed centuries of devotion, destruction, and renewal. The visionary architect William Burges designed the cathedral in the 19th century as both a tribute to Saint Fin Barre’s enduring influence and a testament to William Burges’s own artistic genius.
Walking through the cathedral, I felt the interplay of past and present, earth and heaven. These saints and apostles are figures from history, embodiments of virtues and struggles that are timeless. Their stories invite us to reflect on our own faith, perseverance, and the ways we leave our mark on the world.
Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral is a place of worship and a narrative in stone, wood, and glass. The intricate carvings and the evocative sculptures, among much else, create a space that transcends the ordinary. Here, the saints and apostles stand as eternal witnesses to the human journey toward the divine. As I left the cathedral, the image of Saint Paul, resolute and unyielding, stayed with me—a reminder that we must build faith, much like the cathedral itself, stone by stone, moment by moment, to endure the test of time.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral features stunning Victorian Gothic artistry, with symbolic ceilings and intricate designs reflecting divine themes and craftsmanship.
As I stood on the floor of Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral in Cork, Ireland, I gazed upward toward the Apse and sanctuary ceiling at the eastern end. Turning my eyes directly to the west, I found myself captivated by the crossing ceiling—the very heart where the nave intersects with the transepts, forming the iconic cross shape typical of Gothic cathedral architecture.
In my imagination the central tower and spire soared majestically above the crossing ceiling. The ceiling there featured intricate architectural elements like ribbed vaults and a lantern tower, allowing light to flood into the space below. This crossing served as a beautiful transitional space between the sanctuary and the main body of the cathedral, the nave.
Focusing my camera on the Sanctuary Ceiling of Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral, I was struck by the stunning example of Victorian Gothic Revival artistry before me. Designed by the architect William Burges, who envisioned every detail of the cathedral, the ceiling reflected his meticulous attention to detail and his love for vibrant colors and symbolic ornamentation.
The rich iconography drew me in. Angels adorned the ceiling, likely representing the celestial hierarchy or the glorification of Christ. Each angel held symbolic items—trumpets, stars, or scrolls—emphasizing their roles as messengers and worshippers of God.
The radiant color scheme was breathtaking. Deep blues, shimmering golds, lush greens, and vivid reds combined to create a striking visual effect, symbolizing heaven and divine majesty. Gold accents caught and reflected the light, reinforcing the idea of heavenly glory.
Geometric and star patterns embellished the vaults. The blue panels dotted with gold stars symbolized the heavens—a common motif in Gothic church ceilings. These stars seemed to represent divine guidance or eternity, adding another layer of meaning to the already rich tapestry above me.
The structural elements themselves were works of art. Painted ribs intersected across the ceiling, highlighting the Gothic architecture’s ribbed vaulting. Their intricate designs in green and red emphasized both structural beauty and functional elegance.
The symbolism was profound. The angels with their instruments and the starry heavens collectively evoked themes of divine worship and the glory of God’s kingdom. This alignment with the Victorian Gothic ideal of infusing spiritual symbolism into architectural elements was evident in every brushstroke.
Knowing that William Burges envisioned Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral as a “Bible in stone,” I felt a deep connection to his purpose. Standing beneath the Sanctuary Ceiling—the focal point above the altar—I sensed how it served to elevate worshippers’ gaze and spirits toward the divine.
Capturing these scenes through my lens, I was documenting a testament to the artistic and architectural achievements of the 19th century. Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral is a place of worship and also a living gallery of history, faith, and unparalleled craftsmanship.
Enter your email to receive notification of future postings. I will not sell or share your email address.
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 