The approach begins before the entrance. Stone walls, a brass plaque, a rain chain hanging beside it. The name appears quietly, at eye level, against layered stone. Light does not come from above here. It rises from below.

Inside, the lobby opens across levels. A reception desk glows from within, pale green, lit through glass and water. Above it, a large sculptural form hangs suspended against warm timber panelling: dark wire, the suggestion of a bird. The space asks you to look up before you have found your bearings.

The light changes quickly. Between late afternoon and dark there is a period of perhaps twenty minutes when the courtyard architecture becomes something different from what it is by day.

Warm uplighting catches the underside of colonnades. A curved stone path moves through low planting. Tall palms stand against a sky that has not quite decided on its colour. At the centre of one courtyard, a dark sculpture sits on a low plinth, symmetrical, the palms behind it reading like a composed frame. Elsewhere, a tiered pavilion stands among trees. In black and white, the architecture loses its specificity and becomes something older. Pyramid rooftop, ascending steps, palm fronds at the edge. The kind of structure that belongs to no single place or century.