Imagine floating across the gentle, glassy waters of the Mediterranean, the horizon unbroken except for a curious sight—an island not of stone or sand, but of cork, gypsum, and glue.
It sways quietly with the waves, small and fragile, and yet it holds within it a grand dream: to give life back to the sea. This is Isolotto, a biodegradable floating island designed by architects Angelo Renna and Apurva Baldawa, created not as a monument to human ingenuity but as a soft, nurturing gesture for marine life.
A Vision Rooted in Nature
The concept, first shared widely through Designboom in July 2023, is both simple and radical. At its heart lies cork, sliced into one-centimeter layers, providing buoyancy and structure. Around it, a shell of gypsum adds strength while acting as a slow-dissolving outer layer.
Binding it all together is natural glue—no plastics, no steel, nothing that will linger as pollution. This is architecture that accepts its own mortality, designed to dissolve gently into the waters that cradle it.
The choice of materials is a statement in itself: cork harvested sustainably, gypsum readily available, all bound without toxic chemicals. This means that every fragment that breaks away nourishes the ecosystem rather than harming it.
More Than a Structure: A Living Habitat
On its surface, Isolotto is covered with a thin layer of soil. Here, plants can take root—wildflowers, herbs, or grasses carried by the wind or seeded by human hands. The island does not float barren; it blossoms, creating a tiny oasis of green above the blue.
But the real magic unfolds beneath the surface. The designers have carved a varied underwater topography—ridges, hollows, and peaks—that mimic the complexity of natural reefs.
This intentional design creates spaces where invertebrates can cling, algae can spread, and mosses can grow. Tiny fish may dart into crevices, while seagrass and marine plants anchor in sheltered pockets.
It is this fourth point—the underwater landscape—that transforms Isolotto from an object into an ecosystem. It is not merely biodegradable; it is alive, growing, and changing as marine life adopts it.
A Response to a Sea in Crisis
The Mediterranean has long been a cradle of human civilization, but centuries of fishing, shipping, and urbanization have strained its ecosystems. Pollution, habitat loss, and warming waters threaten its biodiversity. Coral reefs and seagrass meadows—essential nurseries for countless marine species—have dwindled.
Projects like Isolotto emerge from this backdrop as small but potent remedies. They do not seek to dominate nature but to invite it back, offering scaffolding for life to flourish.
Similar efforts have been explored elsewhere: concrete “bio-active” reefs, terracotta reef tiles, and even electrically charged Biorock structures that accelerate coral growth. Each is part of a growing movement of eco-design, where human creativity bends toward healing rather than extraction.
Stories of Innovation Across the Seas
- Bio-active concrete reefs: Companies like Holcim have experimented with concrete infused with textures and minerals that encourage marine colonization, providing safe havens for fish and coral.
- 3D-printed terracotta tiles: In Hong Kong, researchers created reef structures from clay, carefully shaped to resemble coral skeletons. These tiles offered young corals a place to attach, with survival rates far higher than traditional methods.
- Electrified reefs: Using low-voltage electrical currents, scientists have stimulated mineral accretion on steel frames, creating structures that grow stronger over time and support rapid coral growth.
- Drone guardians: In Cyprus, underwater drones monitor artificial reefs, protecting them from illegal fishing and gathering crucial ecological data in real time.
Together, these efforts echo Isolotto’s philosophy: restoration through innovation that respects the rhythms of nature.
Voices of the Designers
When asked about their inspiration, Renna and Baldawa describe their project as a conversation with the sea. “We wanted to create something that is temporary, something that dissolves naturally, but leaves behind a legacy of life,” they shared in interviews. This ethos—of impermanence as strength—reflects a deep humility often absent in design.
The duo emphasized the importance of crafting not just for humans but for other species. “Architecture has always been about shaping space for people. But here, we asked: what if we designed for fish, algae, and moss? What if our buildings were not for us, but for them?”
The Power of Small Gestures
At first glance, Isolotto seems modest. It is not vast enough to host people, nor imposing enough to be seen from miles away. Yet its very scale is its strength. It teaches us that solutions to environmental crises need not always be colossal. Sometimes, a series of small, thoughtful interventions—many little floating islands—can create a mosaic of restoration.
This idea resonates with the hopeful tone echoed in Positive News and other outlets: that even in a world overwhelmed by ecological grief, simple acts of kindness toward the planet can ripple outward.
Imagining the Future
Picture a chain of Isolotti drifting across coastal waters. Each island, small and selfless, slowly erodes as marine organisms weave themselves into its body. Over time, the cork softens, the gypsum dissolves, and what remains is not debris but habitat.
Children on a shoreline might one day see flowers blooming on these islands, while divers below discover miniature reefs teeming with life. For once, human design would not mean dominance but coexistence.
A Symbol of Harmony
In many ways, Isolotto is less an object and more a philosophy: that our inventions should acknowledge their place within larger systems. It reminds us that permanence is not always the goal; sometimes, impermanence is the gift. By embracing decay, Isolotto ensures that every stage of its life cycle gives back to the sea.
It embodies what many conservationists call “ecological humility”—a willingness to step aside and let nature lead. And in doing so, it becomes not just a design but a story of reconciliation.
Final Reflection
The Mediterranean is vast, its challenges daunting. But within its waters now drifts a seed of possibility, small yet brimming with promise. Isolotto is not a cure-all; it cannot erase centuries of damage. Yet it offers something equally precious: hope.
Hope that our designs can nurture rather than exploit. Hope that we can learn to live lightly, leaving behind nourishment rather than scars. And hope that, one floating island at a time, we can begin to heal the seas that have long sustained us.
Sources:
Earth Journalism
Design Boom
