I went to see Selgascano's Serpentine Pavilion today, with a friend. I liked it and, now, a few hours later, I like it even more — because I keep thinking about it and enjoying it and wanting to go back, again, to see it at different times of day.
It's a really fun building. I felt like I was inside a present, wrapped in cellophane and ribbons. It has so many textures and colours, passages and spaces slipping into and around one another, framing the trees and the gallery itself. It's just really, really pleasurable, and playful and unusual, and it couldn't have been expensive. I thought it was great.
It's hard to get a sense of this structure in a single photograph: it's too layered, too much like a burrow. It should be experienced from within, and I suppose I found this an interesting reminder of how often we see buildings from outside, framed through a camera, and how aware architects are, now, of the audience that won't step inside their structures alongside those that will. I didn't bring my camera; these pictures are from my phone. This building photographs beautifully, but it also invites viewers to leave their computer screens and come to visit; all the images beckon them inside, showing passages which turn and lead to other passages, outside the pictures.