At a glance, photos of Cafe Yeonnam-dong in South Korea appear to show a flat two-dimensional drawing of a dining space, but these objects are far more 3D than they appear. From the floorboards to the plants to the door handles, every detail of the cafe has been sketched in black on white and brightly lit to show as little dimension as possible. As you might imagine, it’s all highly Instagrammable, making it so popular with locals and tourists that the cafe often has to shut down early because they’ve sold out of food.

The cafe, which opened in July 2017, takes inspiration from a hit Korean television show called W – Two Worlds, in which the protagonist enters a cartoon created by her father. The owners realized they could recreate that feeling in a highly unusual cafe, noting that there’s probably nothing quite like it in the world. The only things that break the illusion are the lamps and the food itself, which stands out in bright contrast, making it look even more appetizing than usual.

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A post shared by Since 2017 / Greem cafe / 2D (@greem_cafe)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Since 2017 / Greem cafe / 2D (@greem_cafe)

All the more reason to wear a vivid ensemble if you can make it to the Yeonman-dong district yourself (or blend in, as some people have chosen to do). If you can’t, Instagram has plenty of opportunities to experience the cafe from afar.

Images via the cafe’s Facebook + Instagram

Looking at one of his sculptures from a single perspective, it would be easy to mistake them for 2D drawings on a flat surface. After all, architects have a tendency to layer lines as they solve design problems in realtime, resulting in a sketchy quality in their “working” drawings. They often also sketch buildings with overlapping lines, leaving structural intersections seeming fluid and unfinished.

Spanish artist David Moreno sculpts along similar lines, using thin strands to model out architectural creations that appear almost like two-dimensional art on a page.

Strung together with slim piano wire, he builds up his pieces from steel rods that form outlines of buildings as well as architectural details.

There is rarely a clear starting point, and one could imagine any of these constructions being half-finished or, conversely, well past their natural end point.

In the end, there is a kind of gestural quality and uncertainty to each piece, something that architect’s often intentionally cultivate — by creating overlaps and ambiguities, they can allow observers (and clients) to read their own vision into it.

Moreno has created and iterated on these kinds of three-dimensional sketch sculptures for a long time, but has also worked on large-scale installations and furniture-based works. You can see more, too, on his Behance page.

Architectural trends come and go, but some visions are more persistent than others, and Brutalism could have been among them. This artist asks and answers the question: what if concrete monstrosities of the 1960s and 70s had somehow won the war against the steel-and-glass towers that dominate contemporary skylines?

German digital artist Clemens Gritl has built a virtual world around this retro-futuristic vision, dubbed “A Future City from the Past”, populated with extreme forms of concrete idealism. His “super-brutalist” metropolis extrapolates the revolutionary aesthetic of this harsh material, seen for a time as representing social progress and democratic ideals in architectural form.

Through 3D modeling (exhibited as black-and-white 2D images), this series presents something that could have been seen as utopian but inevitably, with Brutalism in hindsight, feels oppressive and dystopian. His renditions are meant to look like products of a past time, capturing Modernist-worthy views of these giant-sized Brutalist creations.

“All buildings and structures are homogenic,” says the artist. “The differentiations of architectural styles and eras are eliminated and replaced by geometric structures, repetition and absolute materiality.”

“Ballard’s novel paints a dark dystopian picture — the architecture of a single residential tower becomes the driving force for mysterious changes of the tenants behaviour. Can the presence of a high-rise structure truly create such a threatening atmosphere and social tension, culminating in murder, decay, destruction and even anarchy?”

Individually, various structures recall Modernist greats as well, like a towering residential complex arrayed on piloti (columns) as envisioned and realized by Le Corbusier. But, like Corbu’s masonry towers for his idyllic cities, the results do not look particularly livable. Perhaps the portrayal is also a little unfair — after all, Corbu at least envisioned these things surrounded by green landscapes.

This ongoing series of sculptural floating cities and suspended towns could be mistaken for pencil drawings when glanced on a wall or seen in a two-dimensional medium like photography.

Spanish artist David Moreno sees it that was as well: at attempt to draw sculptures, but using steel rods lashed together with piano wire rather than a pen on a pad. Background depth, shadows and other slight dimensional clues cue viewers into what they are really seeing.

These stick-figure structures correspondingly look deceptively simple: what would normally be a single stroke is instead a meticulous assembly process, the rods tied together by hand and piano wire wrapped and clipped to support them.

The Barcelona-based artist has also toyed with 3D-printing extrusion devices to shape similar works in more colorful formats, combining, for instance, a series of stylized chairs into a mass of interconnected hanging sculptures.

In other cases, strings and wires are looped and stretched to form complex shapes or interact with other objects – stories and figures emerging from a combination of materials and forms.

While the specifics of his work shifts from one installation to the next, a common theme is clear: taking traditions of line art into the third dimension and seeing what can come of the process (via Colossal).

We are accustomed to being able to click a few buttons and get 2D prints of cities, blocks or buildings, and now a new web app allows you to create your own 3D model just as easily, picking and printing your favorite parts of Manhattan.

Inspired by Terrafab, a similar app that lets you print out custom selected, scoped and scaled sections of Norway’s gorgeous natural topographies, ibldi uses a similar approach but turns it toward America’s largest cityscape.

For now, Terrafab offers more functionality and versatility, spanning an entire country, letting users customize their viewport and allowing selections ranging from tiny to gigantic. It is not hard to imagine, though, similar open map APIs in the near future allowing any section of the planet to be likewise selected and printed.

From Terrafab: “Arguably, Norway has one of the top five most incredible terrains in the known universe. Now you can create your own 3D-printed genuine gypsum heirloom mantelpiece display replica of your favorite part of this formidable landscape in two easy steps.”