Frank Gehry’s LUMA Tower rises from the creative campus of LUMA Arles, clad in 11,000 stainless steel panels that ripple, reflect, and refract the sky. Its form draws from Vincent van Gogh’s Starry Night: Gehry has said he “kept thinking about what the light was like for Van Gogh,” and the tower’s shimmering skin channels that brushstroke luminosity.

Scale here is fluid. From afar, the tower commands the skyline as a monumental beacon; up close, the fractured façade reads as delicate panels, each fold catching light differently. This oscillation destabilizes perception, collapsing monumental and intimate. The cylindrical base—nicknamed “the Drum”—recalls Roman amphitheaters, rooting the futuristic in the ancient local context.

Representation in LUMA Tower is never passive: the façade performs as canvas, mirror, and sculpture. Architecture here is not only enclosure but also image, gesture, and memory.

As Gesamtkunstwerk, the tower demonstrates how architecture can act as both object and environment, merging cultural reference, urban presence, and perceptual play. Every shimmer becomes part of a larger vocabulary: a climate of coherence through reflection and resonance.