Straight lines that form a curve?

The hyperbolic paraboloid—famously echoed in the shape of a Pringle—is a doubly curved surface, simultaneously concave and convex. Imagine a saddle or the twist of a torso. This deceptively complex form is actually made entirely from straight lines. That’s what makes it so captivating: curves born of geometry, not bend.

To explore hypars, I build models from bamboo sushi sticks. I found myself drawn to this strange form: how do straight lines create something that looks—and acts—like a wing?

A 3-sided hyperbolic paraboloid – like the segment of a bat wing – has one edge that curves

Every point on the surface is supported by two crossing lines, which makes the structure remarkably stiff and capable of handling serious loads. Shape becomes strength.

From above, a hypar appears square. From the side, it’s anything but. There’s always movement in the form, always an angle that surprises:

Bamboo is an ideal material for this kind of experiment. It’s light, strong, and readily available, so I’ve been able to prototype large-scale structures by hand—without heavy machinery or steel. It allows me to explore what a hypar can do, and more importantly, what it can suggest.

A hypar I made using 4m bamboo poles – easily liftable by hand

These shapes are everywhere once you start looking: a valley’s sweep, a twisted leaf, the rooflines of vernacular pavilions. The hypar holds tension like a bowstring, yet seems to float. For me, it’s a way to explore structure as emotion—architecture that vibrates with suggestion.

The striking rich colour of black bamboo at The Oriental Bamboo in Thailand

Let’s get something straight: black bamboo is drop-dead gorgeous. Possibly the most beautiful of the entire bamboo clan—and still, bizarrely, no one knows it exists. It’s like the George Clooney of grasses: tall, dark, handsome… and weirdly underrated.

We’re not talking about some delicate houseplant here. This is serious stuff—Dendrocalamus Asper Negra—the deep chocolate sibling of the better-known blonde Dendrocalamus Asper. Structurally, they’re basically twins. Same strength, same size (up to 15cm diameter), same sustainable superpowers. But Negra comes dressed for the red carpet.

And then there’s Java Black Bamboo. Sleeker, thinner, denser—basically the designer version of a samurai sword. Perfect for luxury bamboo furniture, wall detailing, and anything that wants to say “I’m minimalist, but I mean business.”

Together, Asper Negra and Java Black tick all the boxes for both bamboo architecture and interiors. Roof? Sorted. Beams? Yep. Lounge chairs that make architects cry with joy? Absolutely.

Asper Black panelling on show at the new Bamboo U Kitchen

So why hasn’t the world caught on?

Honestly, good question. Here in Thailand, black bamboo is still the best-kept secret in sustainable construction materials. There’s one farm near Pattaya growing Tali Black (slender and stylish) and Asper Negra (big and bold). But it’s not widely used, partly because importing from places like Bali is expensive—and because no one’s shouting about it. Yet.

In Bali, one of the top suppliers (the same folks behind the Green School and Green Village) works with black bamboo. Meanwhile, everyone else is still fumbling around with plain old yellow poles.

Enter Linda Garland: Bamboo Diva

This story wouldn’t be complete without a shout-out to the late, great Linda Garland—the woman who saw a photo of black bamboo and, with trademark style, said:
“Take me to this in the forest.”

John Hardy recalls: “It took a long time to find it. But she did.”
And thank goodness. She helped put black bamboo on the map—well, a very niche designer’s map, but still. Without her, we might all still be building with beige.

One of the iconic hexagonal Yurts at Bamboo U in Bali, built with Java Black

The Future Is Black (Bamboo)

In a talk at Bamboo U, Orin Hardy dropped this prophetic line:

“Black bamboo is going to be a big hit in design in ten years.”

Why? Because it’s rare. Because it’s stunning. And because—fun fact—they don’t even have black bamboo in Brazil. The design world is hungry for new textures, tones, and materials that tick the eco-friendly box while still looking like a million bucks. Black bamboo does all that—and more.

Even Ibuku’s Lucas couldn’t resist:

“That’s the most beautiful black bamboo I’ve ever seen.” (referring to a Costa Rican batch, probably from Bamboo Tica.)

TL;DR?

If you’re into architectural bamboo, sustainable building materials, or just want your bamboo furniture to look like it belongs in a Bond villain’s jungle lair—black bamboo is your new best friend.

And yes, you heard it here first.

Black bamboo’s combination of strength and aesthetic makes it ideal for high-quality bamboo construction. Black bamboo also featured in early Green School architecture, thanks to Linda Garland and John Hardy.

I was properly stuck. I wanted to buid a bamboo carport for my brother’s house here in Thailand. And for weeks, I had struggled with various curved roof designs. I had an image in my head — a kind of skirt, draped from a central column and flowing around the edges.

But I couldn’t get it right. I built four or five models. Each one felt forced.

What was I doing? More and more, I realised I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was trying to copy a Pablo Luna bamboo design, whose work I admire deeply. I wanted those deeply curved bamboo forms. But at the same time I wanted to avoid the rup-rup technique — where notches are cut into bamboo to allow it to bend — which I had tried to do but couldn’t master.

Discovering the Hypar Roof Form

Then I received the book Booming Bamboo by Jörg Stamm. Inside was a guide on how to build a hypar — a hyperbolic paraboloid. So I built one, just for the hell of it, following the book’s instructions (you can see more about my playings around with hyperbolic paraboloids here).

A Vision Among the Rubber Trees

But I hadn’t yet connected my paraboloid tinkerings to the carport.

But what I did know was this: I had no idea where I was going with my original carport concepts – and my models were in the trash.

Anyway, I was on the scooter one day, not-knowing what the hell I was doing, here on my winter base of Koh Lanta.

Then – I remember it exactly – I was riding through a grid of rubber trees. And there, in the distance, framed by their long vertical trunks, I saw the build side — the and imagined the carport roof made of a hyperbolic paraboloid.

That soft curve suspended in the geometric rigor of the plantation. It felt like a floating presence, light and mathematical, a poetic contrast to the mechanical world of the car beneath it.

Suddenly, everything aligned. That was it! I would use a hyperbolic paraboloid for the damn roof!

The Challenge of Structural Support

Of course, the next question was how to hold the thing up.

My first attempts — attaching vertical bamboo posts directly to the hypar — cracked. There was too much pressure on the joints and their bolts. I tried multiple solutions, even ran simulations with AI tools (which you can forget about), but nothing worked. Structurally, the system was too loose; too much stress on individual points.

So I stopped again and went back to making furniture — a bamboo chair, a sofa. I needed space.

Bamboo U and the Power of Triangles

Then I signed up to a bamboo construction course in Bali at Bamboo U.

I didn’t go there to solve the carport problem. But walking through the structures at Bamboo U — the kitchen roof, the bamboo dome — I kept noticing the same thing: elegant cross-bracing pyramids supporting vast spans.

And I realised – my designs lacked triangulation, the core principle of structural stability in bamboo construction. One of the master carpenters at Bamboo U said it simply: “Triangles stabilise everything.”

Strength in Simplicity: beautiful examples of triangulation at the office of bamboo design firm Ibuku, and at the Bamboo U kitchen, both in Bali

And suddenly, it all made sense.

By embracing traditional cross-bracing techniques, I could resolve the structural problems I’d been facing.

Intuition, Craft, and the Hands-On Approach

So now I had it – the carport roof shape, and how to hold it up.

Sometimes these things start in funny places – on the back of a scooter, or under a canopy of trees. They start with failure, a willingness to try different things and the patience – and outside input – that let the right idea emerge.

Sourcing bamboo sounds romantic, doesn’t it? A noble artist wandering through misty groves, selecting the perfect stalk like a samurai choosing his blade. In reality? Try sweat, machete blisters, and an ongoing fear that of the Green Tree Snake, a small beast who’s favoured method of attack is to hide in trees and nip unwary passers by.

Let me rewind.

I needed bamboo—strong, straight, seasoned bamboo—for a construction project that I was overly optimistic about. I told myself: “How hard can it be? It’s grass!”

Turns out, sourcing good bamboo is an emotional journey somewhere between treasure hunt and tragicomedy.

First, I tried sourcing from the wild. I hacked my way into a bamboo clump on my brother’s land, armed with a rusty machete and a can-do attitude. After much choppery one actually fell into a ditch, and I returned to my workstation victorious … and the poles promptly cracked because I forgot about curing.

Next, I tried the local builder’s merchant. Bamboo is used as scaffolding here, and they sell 4 metre poles by the ten-pack. I bundled one onto the back of the pickup and set off. Actually these poles served me well – I’d go on to buy many of them.  

But these poles have very thin walls – a consequence of their youth – and so they crack when under load. Having said that, they are super flexible and great for things like splits and weaving, where heavier bamboos just simply don’t move.

But after a few failed construction concept models it was obvious – I just didn’t know enough about my bamboos.

So it was over to an extensive period with Mr Google and Mr ChatGPT. I was introduced me to the concept of 5-year-old culms (at this age lignite thickness so poles become more woody – i.e. less prone to crack), proper harvesting cycles (don’t get too high from your own supply), and—get this—borax. Not for cleaning toilets. For treating bamboo. Who knew?

Look for a greyish patina (signifying age), the dry hollow knock (signifying woodiness), and the telltale curve of a culm that’s lived a life and won’t twist at the first sign of rain.

Suddenly, I wasn’t just building with bamboo. I was wallowing in bamboo.

And then there was that guy. Let’s call him Mr. Friendly. I went up to visit him in nearby Phuket; charming smile, firm handshake, promised me “only the best bamboo.” I liked him instantly. So I handed over $500 for about 100 poles, thinking I’d struck a bargain.

A few days later, he rolled up in a truck that sounded like it was held together by prayer and duct tape. He unloaded the poles at speed, declined my offer of tea (a red flag, in hindsight), and vanished like a bamboo-based magician.

At first glance, the poles looked fine. But over the following weeks as I started to use the poles, the truth crept in like rising damp. Cracks. Everywhere. Hairline at first, then yawning like mouths mid-yawn. They’d clearly been sitting in the sun, soaked in the rain, and possibly used to prop up a collapsing barn before making their way to me. My WhatsApp messages to Mr. Friendly went unanswered—ghosted by a man with a pickup and poor-quality grass.

That’s when I learned: serious suppliers use contracts. Actual, written contracts. They specify number of cracks, age, moisture content. Apparently, this is a thing. Who knew? I do now.

What I Learned

1. Age matters – 3–5 years is the sweet spot.
2. Cut in the dry season – unless you like fungus.
3. Cure it properly – air-drying is an art.
4. Treatment isn’t optional – unless you want termites to make friends.
5. And yes, you will overpay for bad poles before finding the good stuff.

But once you do… oh, the joy. You find a culm that’s straight, smooth, golden as old teak, and you whisper to it, “You and me, we’re making something beautiful.”

And somehow, you both believe it.

When clients commission a bamboo structure or art piece, they aren’t just investing in a building—they’re investing in something alive with craftsmanship, design, and integrity. Bamboo is a remarkable material: strong, renewable, and full of character. But its true potential is only realized through deep knowledge and careful preparation.

In my work, I approach every pole with the same philosophy I bring to sculpture: respect the material, understand its nature, and guide it into something that will last and inspire.

Understanding the Bamboo Wall: Strength Starts Inside

Each bamboo culm is a masterpiece of natural engineering. When I build with bamboo, I’m working with two key structural elements:

1. Vascular Bundles

These are the dense, fibrous strands you see in a bamboo cross-section. They look like pores but are really bundles of natural straws that transport nutrients. As bamboo matures, these bundles fill with lignin—a plant polymer that gives bamboo its incredible compressive strength, rigidity, and water resistance.

2. Parenchyma Tissue

This is the softer, sponge-like layer surrounding the bundles. It’s rich in starches that attract insects if left untreated. It’s also where moisture can settle, making it the most vulnerable part of the pole.

Preserving the beauty and strength of bamboo means treating this softer tissue carefully, while protecting the structural core.

How Long Will a Bamboo Structure Last?

The lifespan of bamboo depends entirely on treatment, design, and care. Here’s what you can expect:

• 1–2 years if exposed to seawater
• 2–3 years in direct contact with the ground
• 4–7 years if protected from sun and rain, even if untreated
• 30+ years with professional treatment and thoughtful design

My process ensures that every piece is built to endure—and age with grace.

My Preservation Process: Borax-Boric Acid Treatment

To ensure lasting performance, I use a tried-and-true method based on natural borates. The cold soak formula includes:

• 90% water
• 6% borax (disodium octaborate)
• 4% boric acid

This solution doesn’t just protect—it preserves. It penetrates the bamboo’s interior, killing microbes and making the parenchyma insect- and fungus-resistant without damaging the vascular structure.

Treatment Method

I soak poles for 7–10 days, using inflatable baths for smaller strips or a vertical soak method for full-length poles. Afterward, the bamboo is slowly dried in shade to prevent cracking and ensure even curing.

Bonus: The leftover solution can be reused in the garden as a natural pesticide.

Quality Control: How I Test Every Pole

Even treated bamboo can vary. That’s why I check every pole using time-tested methods:

1. Sound Test

A properly treated pole sounds denser when tapped. If it rings hollow or shows surface cracking, I know it hasn’t absorbed the solution fully.

2. Turmeric Test

For more detailed inspection, I apply turmeric and alcohol to the cross-section. Once dry, I coat it with hydrochloric and salicylic acid. The results are clear:

• Red = Treated (borates absorbed)
• Yellow = Untreated (still vulnerable)

This is how I ensure every bamboo piece I use is ready for decades of service.

Optional Finish: Lime Wash for Ornamental Bamboo

For decorative applications, I sometimes use a lime wash. This natural paint-on treatment:

• Creates a moisture-resistant surface
• Prevents fungal growth
• Adds a soft, matte finish—ideal for interior or artistic work

Craftsmanship That Lasts

Whether I’m designing a bamboo wall, a piece of furniture, or a sculptural pavilion, I work with one goal in mind: to honor the material and build something that lasts.

Through thoughtful design, technical treatment, and a hands-on approach to every project, I create bamboo work that is not only functional and beautiful—but that also reflects a commitment to longevity, sustainability, and craftsmanship.

Looking for a handcrafted bamboo structure or artistic commission? Let’s talk about what we can build together.

A First Look at Bambu Indah: An Eco-Resort Like No Other

A bamboo lift. Spring-fed natural pools. Dozens of fantastical bamboo structures rising from the rice paddies and forest canopy. Bridges, treehouses, saunas fired by driftwood, and copper bathtubs under the stars.

Welcome to Bambu Indah, one of the most extraordinary eco-resorts in Bali, and perhaps the world. Tucked into the jungle near Ubud, Bambu Indah is the creation of Canadian designer and entrepreneur John Hardy – a man who seems to live, quite literally, under what he calls “the hole in the sky where the ideas fall down.”

The Land Comes First

At first, I was fixated on the bamboo architecture – the iconic buildings, the soaring structures, the extreme bathrooms. But slowly, I began to see the deeper truth: the land is the real heart of Bambu Indah.

Each building is nestled into the rice fields and forests. A copper bath sits beside a stream. An old Javanese bridal house floats above the jungle floor. Hardy’s genius isn’t just in what he builds – it’s where he builds.

As you walk the grounds, you see it all unfold: bamboo groves, spring-fed cold pools, permaculture gardens, tunnels, saunas, and even cows in a grass-roofed barn. It’s a world of natural luxury unlike any resort I’ve ever seen.

A Family of Bamboo Dreamers

Bambu Indah is more than a hotel – it’s part of a bamboo ecosystem. While John Hardy is the visionary, Elora leads Ibuku, and his son Orin runs Bamboo U, a bamboo design course that I attended while staying here.

Together, they’ve built something that is equal parts family legacy, architectural innovation, and ecological statement. The book lying on the table in one of the villas says it all: Living in Paradise.

Interested in more high-end bamboo buildings? See my review of the Bali’s awesome bamboo Green School here.

Bamboo construction has been used for centuries across Asia and beyond, prized for its strength, flexibility, and sustainability. But what happens when modern power tools aren’t available? I recently had a fascinating experience with local bamboo carpenters in Koh Lanta, Thailand, that perfectly illustrates the skill and patience required for traditional bamboo joinery.

Bamboo Carpentry Without Power Tools

I visited a group of local craftsmen specializing in bamboo construction and asked if they could drill some holes for me. They looked at me in confusion—because they didn’t have a drill. Instead, they pulled out a sharp chisel and got to work.

Using nothing but hand tools and years of experience, they carefully carved precise holes into thick bamboo, demonstrating a level of craftsmanship that modern builders often overlook. Each tap of the chisel removed just the right amount of material, ensuring a snug and secure fit for bamboo joinery.

The Art of Bamboo Joinery

Bamboo joinery techniques have been perfected over generations, allowing builders to create durable structures without nails, screws, or synthetic adhesives. Instead, traditional methods rely on tight-fitting joints, natural fiber lashings, and interlocking systems that make the most of bamboo’s natural properties.

In my experience watching these carpenters, I noticed a few key takeaways:

• Precision is everything – Every cut and chisel stroke must be carefully executed to ensure a strong connection.
• Understanding bamboo grain – Unlike wood, bamboo has a hollow, segmented structure, requiring special techniques to avoid cracking or splitting.
• Patience and experience matter – There’s no rushing this process; skilled hands make all the difference.

Why Traditional Bamboo Carpentry Still Matters

In an age of power tools and industrialized materials, why stick to traditional bamboo construction techniques? The answer lies in sustainability and craftsmanship. Bamboo is one of the most eco-friendly building materials, growing rapidly and absorbing large amounts of carbon dioxide. By using hand tools instead of energy-consuming machinery, local craftsmen minimize their environmental impact while preserving ancient skills.

Moreover, bamboo carpentry is not just about building structures—it’s about creating a deeper connection with natural materials. Whether for bamboo furniture, eco-resorts, or sustainable housing, traditional methods bring out the full potential of this incredible material.

Would You Try Traditional Bamboo Joinery?

Watching these craftsmen work was a humbling reminder of how much skill goes into traditional construction. While modern tools can speed up the process, they also remove an element of artistry from the craft. There’s something deeply satisfying about shaping bamboo with your own hands, using age-old techniques passed down through generations.

🔹 Follow my journey in sustainable building and bamboo architecture for more insights into traditional craftsmanship, here or on Instagram

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