The Urban Forest began from the twin concepts of Realm — a space that stores information — and Transmitter — an element that moves information or people through space. I was interested in the question: What happens in the gaps between fragments? How can spatial disconnection be an opportunity rather than a problem? These questions became the core of my thesis, driving an architectural experiment in fragmentation, circulation, and automated generativity.

The first stage of the research was a provocation titled Non-Deterministic Over-Circulated Space, in which I fragmented a monolithic structure into repeated corridors, stairways, and access routes. As circulation multiplied, it began to drive the architecture itself. The building became a maze — not of confusion, but of choice. I wasn’t designing rooms; I was designing movement. From this emerged the idea of the Maze-Museum, where space was defined by transmission rather than containment.

This led to the concept of the Urban Forest — an architectural field made of platforms, decks, stairs, and open connective tissue. Each element acted both as a realm and a transmitter, blurring the line between destination and journey. The Urban Forest isn’t a collection of fixed spaces; it’s an ecology of possibilities. It’s where fragments are not just tolerated but celebrated — allowing culture to grow in unpredictable directions.

To systematise this complexity, I developed The Cube — a topological framework where each cultural realm is mapped onto a face. As the cube is turned, new spatial combinations emerge. This became a kind of operating system for space — an architecture that doesn’t have a single fixed plan, but rather evolves through permutations.

From this logic came the creation of Morphs — transitional links between two distinct realms. Each Morph is generated by algorithmically blending architectural typologies, such as Notre-Dame Cathedral and Kengo Kuma’s Odunpazarı Museum. The result is a continuously shifting sequence of forms that exist in the “in-between” — spaces that could never be designed through traditional methods. These Morphs are not singular buildings; they are a grammar for machine-generated architecture, and each pairing produces an infinite set of new fragments.

The visual language and conceptual framework also take influence from the speculative work of Brodskiy and Utkin and their Paper Architecture movement — particularly projects like The Columbarium and A Hill with a Hole, which used architectural drawing to explore memory, fragmentation, and cultural layering. Urban Forest carries that spirit into the digital — where fragments can be stored, cloned, and recombined endlessly.

In the final stage of the project, I created The Archive — a mythical digital layer where every corridor, Morph, and cube transformation is preserved for future reuse. Rather than a masterplan, Urban Forest is an open system: an evolving, machine-readable commons for cultural exchange and spatial imagination.

This project isn’t about completing a building — it’s about planting the seeds for new architectural ecosystems. Urban Forest is a prototype for design that grows with its users, learns from its context, and builds through the very act of transmission.