ADAM.

ADAM.

ADAM. is a collection of digitally grown objects not designed in the traditional sense, but generated.

Each piece begins in Grasshopper, where form is not drawn but calculated.
A single algorithm unfolds into continuous ribs, spiraling surfaces, and subtle deformations—a geometry shaped by parameters rather than intuition alone.

What emerges is a body that feels almost organic:
as if it were eroded by wind, stretched by gravity, or grown layer by layer over time.

Produced through 3D printing, the objects retain the memory of their making.
The visible striations are not imperfections to be hidden, but records of accumulation—evidence of time, motion, and repetition. Light grazes these ridges differently at every angle, transforming the object from solid mass into a vibrating surface.

The collection resists a fixed identity.
A vase becomes a vessel for air as much as for flowers.
A bottle reads as a container, then a sculpture.
A lamp shade does not merely diffuse light—it reveals structure through illumination.
Function exists, but it never dominates;
use is secondary to presence.

Across variations in proportion, color, and silhouette,
each piece belongs to the same family—
distinct yet genetically related, like siblings shaped by the same code.
Muted blacks absorb light, while warm yellows and ambers soften the geometry,
allowing the forms to oscillate between industrial precision and quiet sensuality.

ADAM. sits between architecture and object, between computation and touch.

It asks a simple but persistent question:
What happens when design stops representing nature—and starts behaving like it?