Residents of Waterloo Estate towers in Sydney, Australia, were given a uniquely visible voice this year amidst city plans to change the neighborhood. The #WeLiveHere2017 project gave 500 residents in two 60-story towers ‘mood lights’ so they could express their views on the proposed future of their home.

“#WeLiveHere2017 celebrates the community of Waterloo before a large scale redevelopment changes the area forever,” explain the project’s creators, “bringing with it swathes of high-density private dwellings and an uncertain future for the thousands of existing residents.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by #Welivehere2017 (@welivehere2017)

An estimated 3,600 elderly and low-income residents will be moved out of the way when a new metro station is added and associated reconstruction complete. Indirectly, the lighting lends a voice to people living in vulnerable low-rise structures below, which are the most likely to be demolished and replaced.

“We chose the Matavai and Turanga towers to represent the whole estate as they are the tallest and most visible,” explained one local resident of the project. “They were purpose-built for elderly residents, and I don’t think I’ve met anyone living there who is under the age of 65.”

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by #Welivehere2017 (@welivehere2017)

“By telling the stories of this inner city community, the project empowers residents to participate in a collective statement of presence: a beacon to the place and the people.” It is also “a dynamic platform to generate valuable discussion around the importance of public and affordable housing, and the right of every person to a home.”

There is also a personal element to this approach — each light represents an individual, and creates a spot of bright color to help people remember that, even if it looks a bit dreary on the outside, there is someone living in a tower.

The project wrapped up last month, and it remains to be seen how much it will impact development in the area, but it is certainly an intriguing template for would-be protesters in urban settings well worth looking at (images via WeLiveHere2017, Tom Wholohan and Shuang West).

A series of architectural installations in Scotland contrast sharply with the centuries-old stone architecture and natural landscapes, featuring spiky white inflatables filling in aged cracks and gaps.

Titled XXX, these designs by Steven Messam add movement to Mellerstain’s House and the surrounding gardens — they are the first part of a series of contemporary exhibitions planned for the Borders Sculpture Park on this historic estate. The white inflatables refer abstractly to old marble sculptures that were originally to adorn the grounds.

“Pointed” emerges from an old gatehouse; “Scattered” is spread across the lake, comprised of floating bubbles; and “Towered” pokes out of an aged laundry column. Each one invites interaction and exploration of the site.

“In the use of historical buildings and the designed landscape, XXX draws on the architectural significance” of the estate, says Messam. “As interventions, the sculptures speak the language of scale – all three are bigger than a house. As studies in scale and form, these artworks have to be directly experienced in the environment to be fully appreciated, so i hope they will encourage even more people to visit this wonderful architectural gem in the Scottish borders.”

Imagine the state of it: the United States executive mansion after 150 years of continuous occupation. By this time, the already-aging White House had been retrofit with a maze of modern amenities like plumbing, electricity and heating – none of which this expansive estate was constructed to house.

Per reporter Brian Resnick, sagging ceilings, scaffolding and supports had rendered the structure an unsanitary fire hazard by the late 1940s – some suggested scrapping it entirely and starting from scratch, but President Truman lobbied to keep and rehabilitate it.

As these amazing photographs from the National Archives & Truman Library illustrate, the entire interior had to be ripped out. Historically valuable materials and decor were meticulously cataloged and stored, and temporary steel columns and beams erected to keep the exterior from collapsing.

To get equipment like bulldozers inside and clear debris required disassembling machines to avoid bursting holes in the sides of the structure – rebuilding would have been cheaper and faster, but this careful treatment preserved irreplaceable pieces of US history.

In all rooms and on all levels, lathe, plaster, brick and mortar were laid bare, giving a unique one-time view – fortunately captured in photographs – into the hidden structure and secret architecture of the most important residence in America.

Architectural renderings that are too realistic leave little to the imagination. At the opposite end of the spectrum, these folded-paper interiors are more like words than images on the page, encouraging the viewer to fill in the blanks and add depth using their mind.

Simon Schubert‘s haunting paper buildings are produced only by folding the paper – millimeter-scale differences catch and reflect light, creating the illusion of subtle line drawings via implied outlines.

The structures themselves are in some cases based on real buildings or destroyed structures – palaces, estates, institutions and more both past and present. Others, like the mansion in this video are fictional creations strung together, unfolding in a silent narrative.

Their author indeed cites literary over artistic or architectural influences, including Samuel Beckett and Edgar Allan Poe: “loneliness, isolation, loss and disappearance are the reoccurring issues in his paper works and sculptures. The mysterious and unsettling atmosphere his works radiate confronts the viewer with his own subconscious fears and anxieties.”