The Concert Hall exists not only in the dimension of space, but also in the dimension of time and communication. Its skin — a folded lattice of glass and pale stone — dissolves the line between the auditorium and the city, drawing the street inward and the music outward.

Inside, an acoustically-tuned timber shell wraps 2,200 seats in warmth. Daylight is choreographed through the day by a system of operable louvres, so that no two performances are ever lit the same way.

The brief asked for a landmark. We answered with a civic instrument — a place that belongs as much to the passer-by as to the audience.