Costillar was designed for the Scheper Rooms in Oranienbaum Palace, Saxony-Anhalt—a museum space characterized by intimate proportions rather than expansive gallery halls. The brief called for a seating solution that could adapt to shifting room configurations and exhibition layouts while responding to the palace's historical atmosphere and the relatively compact scale of the interiors. The challenge was to create a bench that offers rest without encouraging prolonged occupation, maintaining visitor flow while mitigating fatigue during the museum experience. The name Costillar, Spanish for „ribcage,“ signals the formal and conceptual foundation of the project: a spine-like structure composed of repeating rib elements that forms a continuous yet segmented object. It embodies a balance between architectural presence and bodily comfort, between sculpture and utility.
Inspiration and Concept
The project draws equally from four sources of inspiration, all of which explore segmentation, modularity, and the organic logic of living structures:
The centipede's segmented body, where each module carries its own set of legs, creating a flexible, adaptive organism capable of navigating complex terrain. This modularity became a structural metaphor for how the bench could adjust in length and placement while maintaining visual and functional coherence.
The human spine and ribcage, a protective yet flexible system that supports weight while allowing movement. The bench translates this anatomical logic into furniture: a central „spine“ (metal tube) threaded through individual „ribs“ (plywood slats) that collectively form a supportive, curved surface.
Antonio Gaudí's organic architecture, where structure and ornament merge, and forms emerge from natural geometries rather than rigid grids. Gaudí's approach to undulating surfaces and flowing lines shaped the bench's sinuous elevation and its refusal of orthogonal rigidity.
Frida Kahlo's orthopedic corset, a personal object that supports, constrains, and frames the body. This reference introduced a psychological dimension: the bench as something that holds and contours the visitor's posture, suggesting both comfort and mild tension—a support system visible as structure.
Together, these references informed a bench that reads almost anatomically in plan and elevation: vertebral in structure, ribbed in form, and subtly animate in presence.
Spatial Behavior and Interaction
Costillar is designed to provoke curiosity and playfulness rather than immediate legibility. Its segmented surface—composed of closely spaced vertical slats rather than a flat plane—looks uncomfortable at first glance, challenging expectations of what a bench should be. This visual ambiguity invites touch and testing: visitors approach cautiously, run their hands along the ribs, and are surprised to discover that the surface feels continuous and genuinely comfortable when sat upon.
The bench encourages interaction rather than prolonged stillness. Its wave-like form subtly choreographs how people occupy it: some perch at the crest, others settle into the curve, and the segmented rhythm discourages sprawling or territorial occupation. The form frames sequences of bodies pausing, turning, and continuing their path, maintaining the flow of the exhibition while offering necessary moments of rest.
When tested with users, the most consistent reaction was surprise: the bench feels far more supportive than it appears. This gap between visual expectation and physical experience became an intentional feature, reinforcing the idea that the bench is not merely furniture but an experiential object—one that reveals itself through use rather than observation alone.
There is no „correct“ way to sit on Costillar. The backrest is low (11 cm elevation) and serves more as a visual marker than functional lumbar support, shaped into a camelback profile with two subtle humps that echo the bench's overall rhythm. The seating curve itself is purely aesthetic, contributing to the sense of play and mobility without prescribing posture. Ambiguity and open use are intentional: the bench adapts to how visitors choose to engage with it.
Form and Geometry
Costillar achieves its organic curves through the repetition of straight lines—a formal paradox that defines the project. Each individual slat is a flat, two-dimensional profile cut from plywood, but when threaded onto a tube and spaced closely together, the array reads as a continuous, flowing surface. The curve exists not in any single element but in the accumulation and rhythm of identical parts slightly offset from one another.
The overall wave is purely aesthetic, not derived from ergonomic studies or anatomical proportions. However, the form was tested iteratively to ensure comfort: standard bench height was maintained, and slat spacing was explored at different ratios. The spacing can be stretched up to 2:1 (double the slat thickness), but the optimal balance—visually and haptically—was found at 1:1, where the gaps between ribs are equal to the width of the slats themselves. This creates a rhythm that feels neither too tight nor too loose, allowing light to filter through while maintaining structural density.
The backrest's camelback profile offers visual rhythm in elevation, breaking the horizontal flow into a gentle rise and fall. Functionally, the 11 cm elevation does little to support the back, but formally it reinforces the vertebral metaphor and adds sculptural interest when the bench is viewed from the side or in silhouette.
Construction and Modularity
The structural system is minimal and legible: plywood ribs threaded onto a metal tube, with no visible fasteners or mechanical joints cluttering the form. This decision was both aesthetic and conceptual—the bench should appear as simply „pieces of wood and tube,“ with nothing else introducing visual noise. The cleanness of this assembly reinforces the anatomical metaphor: like a spine, the system is both flexible and strong, built from repetition rather than complexity.
The connection system uses a thin inner tube (45 mm diameter) that passes through all the ribs, with metal spacing rings placed between the slats to maintain consistent gaps and prevent lateral shifting. A tension screw or rod was proposed (but not yet fully realized in the prototype) to tighten the assembly and lock the curvature in place, ensuring stability while allowing for disassembly and transport.
Modularity serves three purposes:
Adaptability — the bench can be shortened or extended to fit different rooms and configurations within the palace.
Logistics — the system can be transported flat and assembled on-site, making it feasible for temporary exhibitions or rotating installations.
Conceptual clarity — the vertebrae-and-rib metaphor is expressed structurally, not just visually. Each rib is independent yet part of a greater organism, echoing the centipede's segmented body and the spine's modular construction.
For the prototype, only one quarter of the full bench was fabricated using CNC-milled plywood and a 45 mm tube. The remaining length was proposed as mirrored repetitions of this segment, demonstrating how the system could scale without requiring custom fabrication for each piece. This partial prototype validated ergonomics, structural behavior, and assembly logic within studio time and material constraints.
Materials and Finishing
The prototype uses plywood for its availability, ease of milling, and structural consistency. However, in a full-scale final version, solid wood planks would be preferred to elevate the aesthetic and give the bench a more refined, tactile presence befitting a museum context. The tube would be upgraded to polished chrome, enhancing the contrast between the warm, natural grain of the wood and the cold, reflective industrial material of the spine.
The chamfered edges on each slat soften the interaction points where hands and bodies touch the bench, preventing sharp corners while maintaining the crispness of the profiles. These details are small but essential: they communicate care in fabrication and acknowledge that the bench is meant to be handled, not just observed.
Reflection
The project's greatest success lies in the juxtaposition of straight lines generating curves—a formal strategy that resolves complexity through repetition rather than sculptural modeling. This approach not only simplifies fabrication but also reinforces the conceptual link to segmented organic systems like the centipede and the spine.
Equally satisfying was the gap between visual expectation and physical experience: the bench looks rigid and uncomfortable but reveals itself as genuinely supportive when used. This surprise became a form of interaction in itself, provoking curiosity and rewarding engagement.
The bench also facilitates interaction between visitors, not just between user and object. Its length and undulating form naturally create multiple zones of occupation, encouraging strangers to share space without confrontation. The segmented rhythm visually frames these coexistences, making the act of resting into a kind of choreography.
If given more time, the refinement would focus on the spacing rings and tension rod system—developing a clean, elegant solution for locking the assembly in place while maintaining the visual simplicity that defines the project. This would complete the transition from prototype to production-ready object, ensuring that the bench can be fabricated, transported, and installed reliably across different museum contexts.
