The essential element of architecture is light; without it, there would be no "volumes under the sun" nor interior spaces. This project is constructed with simple, repetitive, and prefabricated materials: foundations, pillars, beams, slabs, and façades. However, they are conceived and designed immersed in a luminous environment. The interior of the passenger terminal becomes a luminous experience, a way to confine light, a box capable of shaping, directing, and modulating sunlight.
From an initial rectangle, we can obtain portions by fragmenting it through divisions within its limits. These divisions can be random or follow a formal strategy, which will only condition the shape of these portions but not the essence of the division. The rectangle retains its external form but loses its internal measurements, fragmented in such a way that its initial length and width can only be reconstituted by summing the internal distances. It is the initial rectangle that maintains the identity of the fragments, which would scarcely have autonomy outside of it.
As the title suggests, it is the light (of Lanzarote) that, combined with the material, brings reality to our environment. Architecture confines light, forcing it to cross boundaries and reflect within an interior. Light becomes present when it is trapped, confined within this architecture, and it is this luminous material that gives life to the architecture, transforming it from an inert object into something alive and ever-changing.