When drawing the initial thoughts of a design we make, as a rule, black marks on white paper. Black represents solids, white the space between the solids, between the enclosure. Yet those white areas are not empty, nor are the solids uniformly the same. Light affects both to varying degrees, and both are there to be manipulated by the architect. We can subsequently check what the effects may be by building either physical or electronic models, or both. At the beginning, however, we have to rely on memory and experience.

That light plays a crucial role in our sensation of space and has been recognized for centuries. Gothic cathedrals are shrines of light and produced some of the most dramatic as well as subtle sculpting of surfaces to direct light.

This is not simply a matter of letting in sunlight; it is a question as to which surfaces are lit and reflect back light. Louis Kahn phrased it poetically as ‘the sun never knew how great it was until it struck the side of a building’ (Johnson, 1975, p.12).

Although light can be described as invisible, its effects are palpable and an inseparable component of architecture. As Richard Meier clearly acknowledged in an interview, ‘. . . For me light is the best and most versatile building material’.