At Terreform ONE, we imagine a future where architecture is not just drawn or digitized, but grown. Our radical proposal, presented at the 2025 Venice Biennale of Architecture, encodes the timeless design axiom form follows function into the DNA of seaweed. This isn’t science fiction—it’s a living, breathing archive.

Traditional data storage—books, hard drives, cloud servers—is fragile, energy-hungry, and temporary. What if, instead of relying on power-dependent servers, we wove architectural blueprints into the genetic code of living organisms? That’s exactly what we’ve done.

Our project, Coding Plants: An Artificial Reef and Living Kelp Archive, bioengineers seaweed to carry architectural principles at the molecular level. Seaweed—more accurately, macroalgae—was chosen for both its ecological resilience and its vast potential for DNA-based data storage. A single gram of DNA can theoretically store 215 million gigabytes. That’s more than enough to preserve humanity’s built heritage—embedded in a living, regenerating organism.

Shaped as a neo-natural kelp reef, the installation features suspended, dried seaweed specimens encased in air-tight vitrines, showcasing a transgenic process. Encoded within the kelp’s DNA are texts, images, and architectural drawings. At the center, a 3D model physically renders the phrase Form Follows Function, translated into the AGTC sequence of DNA.

We use “plants” in the broadest sense—referring not only to botanical life, but also to systems of production. Like a factory, kelp becomes a vessel for memory and meaning—a manufacturing plant for architectural thought.

Molecular Memory: Energy-Efficient and Practically Eternal

At the heart of this exhibition is molecular storage: the practice of encoding binary data into stable sequences of oligopeptides. These chains of amino acids act like Lego blocks: small, durable, and infinitely combinable. Unlike digital servers that degrade or crash, these molecules can store information for centuries with minimal energy use.

Using mass spectrometry, data is read with pinpoint accuracy—no clunky hardware or risk of corruption. And while this method isn’t designed for rapid recall, it offers unmatched durability, which is ideal for archiving blueprints, imagery, and ideas that deserve to outlive us.

Form Follows Function—Reclaimed, Revived, Reencoded

In the 19th century, architect Louis Sullivan coined form follows function as a call to design in harmony with nature’s logic. The Bauhaus modernists echoed this ethos, interpreting it as a biologically driven, ecologically sensitive design principle. But over time, its meaning was distorted and reduced to an industrial slogan that served efficiency over evolution.

By encoding form follows function into seaweed DNA, we restore the principle to its rightful domain: biology. It is no longer just a slogan—it becomes substance, structure, and system. It drifts with ocean currents, regenerates in tidal rhythms, and merges with the ecosystem as a living repository of design.

This isn’t just a backup plan for when hard drives fail. It’s a reimagining of how we transmit knowledge: sustainably, beautifully, biologically. Kelp, encoded with architectural wisdom, becomes a living time capsule: an archive that grows, adapts, and survives where our cities and servers cannot.

Welcome to the future of memory.

Encoding Form Follows Function Into the DNA of Kelp: The Process

“To think it, wish it, even want it — but do it!” — Henrik Ibsen’s famous line from Peer Gynt echoed in our minds as we embarked on a journey that seemed plucked from the pages of speculative fiction: embedding a human architectural principle—form follows function—into the living DNA of kelp.

What began as an idea, half-art and half-science, soon became a bold experiment in molecular storytelling. Could we encode this iconic phrase into seaweed’s genetic code, preserving it not in stone, but in living, regenerating organisms?

To do this, we had to rethink how meaning is communicated at a molecular level. How do you make a phrase biologically readable, so that it can be expressed by cells as if it were their own idea?

The first step was to translate “form follows function” into a sequence of amino acids, the language proteins use to carry out life’s tasks. Led by Sebastian S. Cocioba of New York Botanics, we developed a biologically viable amino acid sequence, stripping out non-natural elements to preserve the integrity of life’s coding system. The result was: FRMFLLWSFNCTIN.

This sequence is more than symbolic: it can theoretically fold into a functional protein. We rendered this sequence as a 3D model, creating a sculptural embodiment of the phrase. Although the exact shape remains speculative, the model stands as both a scientific artifact and an artwork in its own right.

With the amino acid sequence in hand, we synthesized the corresponding DNA, or the biological code kelp could understand and express. This new DNA strand was engineered into a circular plasmid, a genetic “vehicle” designed to carry the message into living cells.

The plasmid included not just our message, but also a marker gene encoding a beet juice enzyme. This enzyme would turn cells red if the gene transfer succeeded, providing a vivid visual cue.

To get our DNA into kelp, we used Agrobacterium tumefaciens, a bacterium well-known for its natural ability to transfer genes into plants. Before we introduced it to kelp, we tested the construct on white petunia petals—chosen for their responsiveness to genetic changes. The appearance of red in the petals signaled success.

Simultaneously, we began establishing tissue cultures of kelp collected from the shore. Regenerating kelp requires precise manipulation of growth hormones and environmental conditions. Yet marine algae are remarkably resilient and adaptive, making them ideal vessels for this type of experiment.

Once the engineered bacteria had delivered the genetic code, we cleansed the plant tissue of any lingering microbes using antibiotic media. Only the transformed cells (those that had successfully absorbed our DNA) survived. These cells then entered a regenerative phase, forming new kelp tissue with our message embedded in their DNA.

This stage was delicate and time-intensive. The cells had to survive, divide, and re-form into viable organisms, all while carrying a molecular echo of a human idea.

This wasn’t just an experiment in genetic engineering—it was an exploration of molecular data storage. The encoded phrase could, in theory, be extracted and decoded using spectroscopic methods (like ¹H NMR) or gas chromatography. In the future, software tools could automate this decoding, offering secure, chemically embedded data for use in architecture, design, or even anti-counterfeiting technologies.

Molecular encoding offers a unique combination of longevity, security, and poetic resonance. Instead of preserving ideas in static materials, we propose a future where messages can live, grow, evolve—and survive as long as life itself.

A New Relationship with Seaweed

Coding Plants: An Artificial Reef and Living Kelp Archive is a call to rethink our role in nature –– not as consumers of resources, but as collaborators with the systems that sustain us.

Kelp is not passive. It shapes ecosystems, supports biodiversity, and regulates oceans. It sways, breathes, feeds, and heals. As both ecological powerhouse and cultural touchstone, kelp has long nourished human societies and now, it holds the potential to carry our ideas into the future, cell by cell.

At the Venice Biennale, this vision challenges anthropocentric design. We propose an ecocentric architecture, one that recognizes the value of all living beings, not just for what they give us, but for what they are. Encoding meaning into kelp does not just preserve a message, but it redefines value itself.

In a world without humans, kelp would still be kelp. But if our words are part of its DNA, then kelp holds more than carbon or nutrients. It holds memory. Intention. Legacy.

That’s a new relationship. One worth cultivating.