The modern architectural world has become so absurd, so self-referential, that we are now finding whimsy in a grotesque pastiche of a mansion hoisted onto a soulless skyscraper—rather than restoring the very real, crumbling mansions that lie abandoned in the European countryside. This is art eating itself, an ouroboros of design where irony and spectacle matter more than substance or authenticity.

Philippe Starck’s latest creation, a fictionalized 19th-century mansion perched atop a nine-story tower, exemplifies this decay of meaning. The hotel in Metz, France clad entirely in metal, is presented as a fantastical tale:

“Manfred Heler has inherited his parents’ beautiful house,” explained Starck. “As an orphan, he finds himself all alone, in this mansion surrounded by a large park. Everything’s going well for him, until he starts to get bored.”

And so, like modern architecture itself, Heler’s boredom spurs him into excess. He does not restore, he does not root himself in the land—he invents. The mansion, a relic of aristocratic Europe, is yanked from the earth and mounted atop a monolithic tower, as if a cruel god had taken a cookie-cutter to the landscape and willed it skyward.

“He climbs and climbs and climbs, until the shaking stops,” Starck describes. “Then there’s silence. Manfred is high above the city. His house has been extruded.”

This surrealist vision is the perfect metaphor for contemporary sustainable architecture, which prides itself on innovation but often leaves genuine preservation behind. Instead of rehabilitating historic estates, we spend millions constructing imitations in unnatural settings, stripping them of their purpose and transforming them into profitable, sterilized attractions. This is not conservation. This is spectacle.

And what lies below, beneath this folly-in-the-sky? A cold, utilitarian tower with 104 spartan suites. “Stripped of any superficiality,” says Starck, as if modern minimalism is the necessary antidote to the whimsy of the mansion above. Concrete, stark white walls, and industrial elements form a dull contrast to the theatrical excess above. If the mansion is a dream of the past, the tower is the nightmare of the present: soulless, efficient, lacking any sense of history or romance.

Meanwhile, real mansions in the European countryside crumble. Their grand halls sit empty, their gardens overgrown, their histories fading into oblivion. Instead of revitalizing these structures—preserving their materials, their craftsmanship, their connection to the land—we fabricate their ghosts and pin them onto the skyline like trophies. This is what modern architecture calls progress.

The perception of numerous abandoned châteaux in France is partly influenced by the visibility of certain iconic ruins. Notable examples include Château de la Mothe-Chandeniers: Located in Les Trois-Moutiers, this 13th-century castle fell into ruin after a fire in 1932. In 2017, a crowdfunding campaign successfully raised funds to purchase and begin preserving the structure.

Château Burrus: Situated in Sainte-Croix-aux-Mines, this neo-baroque château was built in 1900 as the family home of tobacco magnate Maurice Burrus. After changing ownership and periods of abandonment, it was purchased in 2022 by a family committed to its renovation. ​

There are an estimated 3 million abandoned homes in France according to Insee, the French national statistics office.

Perhaps the most fitting element of this entire spectacle is Heler himself, this imagined Renaissance man who, in his boredom, creates without meaning. “An extraordinarily rigorous and inventive man, he doesn’t necessarily succeed in everything he undertakes, but it’s always done with intelligence and poetry, guided by a naive desire to create meticulously at all costs.”

In that, he is the perfect patron saint of modern architecture—meticulous, inventive, and tragically misguided. He builds because he can, not because he should. And in doing so, he becomes the very thing he sought to escape: a prisoner of his own creation, high above the real world, detached from the land and the history beneath him.

This is the art of our time: consuming itself, applauding its own cleverness, while the true beauty of the past lies forgotten.

The post Philippe Starck’s Floating Mansion: The Hollow Spectacle of Modern Architecture appeared first on Green Prophet.

The post SHA wellness clinics launch Al Jurf, its first “wellness island” in the UAE appeared first on Green Prophet.

To sleep at Dar Ben Gacem is to spend a night in a bygone era. Located deep in the warren of alleyways and vendors that make up Tunis’ labyrinthian medina, this newly renovated artsy boutique hotel offers a tasteful glimpse of Ottoman period architecture and art.

Originally built as a hotel by wealthy merchants in the 17th century and occupied for 300 years by a family who sold perfume, the building eventually fell into disrepair.

Leila Ben Gacem and her family eventually bought the building and spent three years working with local heritage specialists, the Association de Sauvegarde de la Médina de Tunis, and architect Zoubeir Mouhli to restore the building to its original incarnation.

It was important to them that they preserve the historic detailing that contributes so richly to the medina’s unique architectural legacy, while still providing a modern setting that would appeal to tourists.

“I love staying in a place where you really feel its spirit and heritage,” Gacem told Brownbook Magazine.

“I really want to bring out what Tunisian artists have made, and whoever stays there, I want them to really feel the medina. And that’s the fascinating thing. You’re living in this little micro-palace and there’s a whole medina around you. You’re right there near the kasbah and souk.”

Related: Star Wars Fans Restore Luke Skywalker’s Home in Tunisia

Seven rooms are organized over two levels and around a central courtyard that is so typical of homes in the region – a feature that contributes to what Mouhli describes as “domestic introversion.” Each is adorned with colored wall tiles, carved plaster panels, and painted wooden ceilings.

The owners have made an effort to source their furnishings locally.

“Even the choice of furnishings reflects the local setting,” Brownbook reports. “If the detail wasn’t already present in the building, it was procured from one of the overstuffed antiques dealers which line the souk district of the medina, or made especially by local artisans.”

Not only does this lend an air of authenticity to their small boutique hotel, but it also promotes cottage industries and local Tunisians.

“We are social entrepreneurs,” writes Dar Ben Gacem on their website, “as we want to encourage tourism with a socio-economic edge by creating opportunities for micro and small businesses based in the medina; artisans, traders, tour guides, and chefs (mothers) that mastered their ‘cuisine’ by cooking for their families.”

Images via Dar Ben Gacem

The post Artsy Dar Ben Gacem hotel awakens bygone Ottoman era in Tunis appeared first on Green Prophet.

We’ve heard of pixelated screens and buildings, but pixel hotels are a new phenomenon that started as an art project in Linz, Austria. Now these tiny hotels established in unusual, typically abandoned urban settings – whether in a garage or an art gallery – are coming to Israel.

The Atlas hotel chain and Tel Aviv municipality recently unveiled plans to upcycle spacious lifeguard shacks on Bograshov Beach overlooking the Mediterranean Sea into unique boutique hotels that thrust visitors directly into the city action, rather than sheltering them in a large chain hotel setting.

Local designers Lilach Chitayat, Anat Safran, and Alan Chitayat have purchased the rights to initiate the Pixel Hotel project in Israel. In addition to the lifeguard shacks, this creative team hopes to establish similar projects in Jaffa Port, Neve Tzedek, and at water towers throughout the country. Tel Aviv already boasts a hot design scene, but this latest project is one of the revolutionary we’ve seen in a while.

:: Haaretz

More on Design and Tourism in Israel:
Ramot Polin: Crazy Israeli Architecture Gone Terribly Wrong
“Green It” Shop Brings Green Urban Living to Tel Aviv
Google Maps to Bring Virtual Eco-Tourists to Israel

The post Tel Aviv Lifeguard Shacks To Become Tiny Pixel Hotels appeared first on Green Prophet.