I've always considered architecture as a receptacle for sensations. As the answer to an unspoken question, architecture's main role is to create and transmit these sensations. I immediately felt the Serpentine Gallery's commission for a summer pavilion as a request to unearth little sparks of emotion. A summer pavilion in a sprawling park… Oriental memories float to the surface. Hyde Park, Kensington: the simplicity and openness of these gently tamed expanses. Green grass as a backdrop. Stretches of leafy trees creating depth of field. An aura of calm freedom floats in the air. For me, each project is preceded by an exciting question: what can I do here that I can't do somewhere else? What small pleasures can I propose for such a simple request? This is a tantalizing trail, discarding the thousand and one trivial temptations along the way: Too banal! Too vulgar! Too pretentious! Too predictable! Too conventional! Not mysterious enough! Then emotion steps in with a word-desire that opens the floodgates: DAZZLING… contrasting… complementary… RED… red is complementary (to green)… FLEETING SUMMER… use summer… the sun… STARE AT THE SUN… filter the sun… a red filter… red as a conductor… RED SUN… a red glow… a red screen… a windbreaker… in the red… A HAZE OF RED… like closing your eyes against the sun… BLURRED… without end… see green through red… filter… sift… RED EXPLODING AGAINST GREEN… green against red… INCORPORATE THE MYTH OF RED… mythical red objects get lost in the grass… familiar objects too… red berries, vegetables, flowers… red and more red… landscaped infiltrations of red… night time… THE RED NIGHT… dense and mysterious… like in a photo lab… hibernating to come alive in summer…The seed is planted. The birth of the project is assured. Now it's just a matter of architecture.