The work presented in the exhibition seems to reinforce this understanding of SANAA's work. The models are presented on low pedestals, so that they are viewed from above. Walls are shown as thin planes of glass or steel, and in several of the models the roofs are transparent. This mode of representation emphasizes the plan, creating a strong sense of unity between the space of the building and its organization in the horizontal plane. These are three-dimensional models attempting to become as two-dimensional as possible. In other words, they are models that want to be drawings.

Despite Ito's comments and the impression created by the models, it is not necessarily helpful to understand SANAA's design process as a conversion from one mode to another-from diagram to building, from line to wall. In the past, Sejima has described her process as more of a negotiation between the organizational diagram, the activities the building will house, and the architectural form. The objective is to find a solution in which the three sets of parameters are matched as precisely as possible. Seen in this way, SANAA's buildings and the activities they contain do not emerge from their diagrams, but emerge with them, almost as parallel worlds. Ancient Celtic spirituality spoke of "thin places"-places in the landscape in which the division between the earthly and spiritual realms was felt to be at its narrowest. SANAA's buildings are constructed thin places, in which the formal and the conceptual are separated from each other only by the merest of veils.

For visitors to the exhibition, and for those studying SANAA's work, an important question is how Sejima and Nishizawa discover these thin places. Celtic druids claimed to find thin places by following "ley lines" and other clues in the landscape, but one suspects that they often just stumbled across them while wandering around. Scanning the thick, image-laden, SANAA-designed book which accompanies the exhibition, it seems that in many cases a similar process of stumbling across ideas takes place. There are several photos in the book of large numbers of study models, laid out in rows or piled up in stacks, evidence of the production of vast numbers of alternatives, options, and variations. The same design problem has been addressed over and over again. For SANAA, creativity is generated through repetition.

This way of opening up new possibilities also occurs in nature, where there is a statistical likelihood that every so often processes of reproduction will generate results outside the normal range of variation. These exceptional cases are usually produced by genetic defects. They are what we normally call mutations, and it is such mutations that SANAA's design process is intended to produce. Obviously, what Sejima and Nishizawa what is not the giant, fire-breathing mutants we see in Godzilla movies, but beautiful, refined mutants. They are looking for albinos.

Albinism occurs in almost every animal species on the planet, and the presence of specific genetic codes means albino people or animals do not have the ability to produce melanin, the pigment which provides our unique coloring. Albinos have white skin, and white hair, fur, or feathers, and their eyes often have red irises. It is not just the overwhelming whiteness of the projects in the exhibition that makes me think of them as albinos, it is the economy of manipulation. Albinism involves a single genetic switch being turned off, resulting in the lack of a single biochemical substance. This seemingly small change fundamentally alters the creature's appearance and behavior patterns (albino animals often have difficulty surviving in the wild because they have poor vision and lack the coloration which allows them to blend into their habitats). Similarly, SANAA's buildings all seem to gain their power from the absence of something relatively simple, but which profoundly affects the experience of its spaces. These include the absence of a hierarchy between circulation and functional spaces (Stadstheatre), the absence of orientation, that is, no front, back, or clear circulation spine (Kanazawa and Almere Cafe), a lack of solid enclosure (IVAM and Toledo), a lack of articulation of the building volume (dlslz), no corners (Toledo), the absence of a defined circulation route (Kanazawa), and the lack of any distinction between structural and space defining elements (Stadstheatre).

People with albinism often have to wear special glasses and must protect themselves from the sun. Albinism is usually thought of as a limitation or disability, but SANAA are trying to find mutations which have a positive effect, which generate small absences that lead to new freedoms. With their buildings that want to be diagrams, models that want to be drawings, and architecture that wants to be art, SANAA are attempting to shed some of what are normally regarded as the essential qualities of architecture. Despite how radical their buildings often seem, their work does not involve a wholesale rejection of architectural norms, but precise manipulations. Their buildings, like this exhibition, use minimal means to maximum effect.