Anastasiia Sydorenko

  • Graduation work
Sydorenko_banner.png

Design - Spatial Design

Inhabiting the Sublime

Inhabiting the Sublime is a small structure on the tidal foreshore of the North Sea, north of Groningen. Elevated on timber beams above the ground, it holds one or two people for roughly twenty-four hours, a full day and night, uninterrupted, the whole tide cycle. The only way in or out is at low tide, when the stairs reach the ground. When the water rises, it climbs to the floor level, and from inside, you float. 
The project grew from a personal urgency: the exhaustion of digital and urban chaos, and the strange relief found in natural disorder - in water ripples, shifting light, a wind that demands full attention. It draws on the concept of the sublime - not beauty, which reassures through smallness and delicacy, but something harder to hold: vastness, obscurity, overwhelming power. The sublime is the feeling of standing at the edge of something infinite and feeling both terrified and fascinated. It provokes awe precisely because it exceeds you, because the scale of what you are facing cannot be fully grasped, only felt. Not comfort, but presence. 
Not beauty, but intensity held in careful balance. 
There is no electricity. Warmth comes from a fire. Along the south façade, a series of stained glass panels rotate freely, adjustable by hand, to paint the interior in colour. As the sun moves across the sky, the panels move with it: cool blues and greens at dawn, deepening through the day into amber and rose by dusk. Light becomes something you handle, not just receive. The bed faces east, you wake with the sun, the first thing you see is it rising from the sea horizon, slow and enormous. The day traces a full arc, ending at the opposite side of the structure, where the same sun descends below the same line it rose from. The north wall opens without interruption to the full, unobstructed vastness of the coast. And through all of it - day and night, calm and storm - you hear the wind. Sometimes you feel it too, a faint shift in the structure around you, a reminder of what is outside and how little separates you from it.
The shape of the structure itself is a natural answer to the forces surrounding it, which is curved, as if the wind had paused for a moment between the beams and left its form behind. The path across open terrain offers no shelter, no pause. The body is prepared before it arrives. Inside, the wind remains not as a force, but as a presence. The building does not hide from the weather. It places you inside it. The materials, timber, metal, concrete with shoreline shells embedded in its surface, stained glass, are chosen to change over time. They absorb salt and moisture, weather and record, so that the building gradually registers its own exposure. 
The project does not instruct or guide. It creates conditions and then steps back. After twenty-four hours, you leave when the tide allows. Whatever you take from it is yours alone - unrepeatable, like the weather itself.

Sydorenko_banner.png