Measuring the Mountains

During a hike towards the Monastery of Cuney in the Italian Alps, I experienced a sudden sense of disorientation. Standing above the valley, where the shadows of the mountains had swallowed the light of the landscape, I could no longer distinguish where one ended and the other began. For a brief moment, I felt detached, as though the landscape itself had shifted into a path I didn’t know how to follow.

This experience led me to explore ways to regain orientation, focusing on specific features of the landscape that helped me reconnect: the wind, the snow, the trees. I discovered that, in one way or another, these elements are linked to something that brings me a sense of comfort and connection. A warm cup of tea. The hike becomes a translation of the tea-making process — harvesting, drying, drinking — through three site-specific pavilions designed to enhance the sensory experiences of each location.

The first pavilion, located in the forest, marks a plucking station. Two horizontal platforms contrast with the verticality of the surrounding trees. The sensory experience here centres on scent. Visitors can gather herbs and hang them to dry, taking a dried bundle as they continue their walk. Emerging into an open field, the second pavilion welcomes the wind. Its walls are formed by layers of stacked wood, framing the surrounding views while allowing the wind to flow through. Hikers are invited to take a piece with them, something they will later use to heat the water, leaving the pavilion in a state of continual change.

The third pavilion, situated among the mountain peaks, is where taste takes centre stage. Hikers climb inside to heat water over an irori — a small traditional Japanese fireplace — blending the herbs they gathered along the path. As the scent of tea fills the space and the wind carries away the last tendrils of smoke, a new sense of connection with the mountains emerges.