Treklövern
Out of respect for the nature that once occupied the site, the Water Tower is conceived as a monument to what has vanished. It marks the memory of a forest clearing—an absence translated into presence, a void made solid and extended vertically toward the sky. What was once hidden within the landscape now rises above it, visible from afar, a quiet reminder of time’s passage and the transformations of nature itself.
The tower’s surface bears the negative imprints of surrounding tree trunks, forming a façade of rhythmic, organic repetition. Cast in concrete, it reveals a dual texture: smooth concave impressions where the trees once stood, and rougher interstices that speak of the material’s own resistance. The plan takes the form of a trefoil—three intersecting circles echoing the geometry of the original clearing. As one moves around the structure, its profile shifts continuously, evoking both familiarity and surprise, order and variation.
Around its base, stones excavated during construction are scattered across the ground, creating a rough landscape that anchors the tower to its origin. The intervention, though infrastructural in purpose, becomes an act of remembrance—an architecture that listens to what came before and renders absence tangible once more.
