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The work of CALIPER takes place on Indigenous lands.

Although this website is free, we urge you to donate the price of a magazine to support Indigenous-led organisations.

Below is a link to various websites and Indigenous organisations compiled by Louis Anderson Mokak, follow him @blak.cuda on Instagram.

Link Here


I once read a remark that in all the references to the Moon throughout history, from Indigenous Dreamtime stories to Tang dynasty poems, from Celtic folklore to Neolithic hunters gazing up at it before written history– they were all talking about the same Moon.

It made me think how small each of us are in the vast continuum of Time, how our lives, whispers, dreams, and hopes, are all indistinguishable specks in an ongoing timeline.

Caliper Journal Issue 08 asks: What is TIME?

Time flows through Architecture, through concrete walls and white picket fences, through the multitudes of families who move through the same building.

Time is the ruin, architecture’s obsession with the corpses of what we have created.

Time is the meeting at two o’clock, the errand at three, and the forbidding law that dictates our lives.

Time is the now, frozen through a continual, scrolling exposure to the lives of others in a present that never ends.

Time is memory, the areas of our past that continually shape the present. It is a collective consciousness, a false nostalgia, consuming a culture that we never experienced.

Time is that which is yet to come, stretching out before us. It is some brighter tomorrow, some unrealised betterment, and unlimited possible worlds under construction.

Time is the present.
By the time it is spoken, it is over.

This issue of TIME asks you to remember memories you have forgotten, and dream up futures you never imagined.


Our public spaces lie abandoned.

Our rituals severed, forced to be rebuilt.

Our homes become the boundaries of our new world – for some, comforting, for others isolating and cruel.

The digital realm takes on new significance, encapsulating our office, social space and leisure area in one.
We ask you to share your thoughts, feelings, anxieties. Show your creative endeavours while stuck at home, your philosophical musings as you are forced to spend time with yourself.

What do our public spaces become when unused? How does our definition of home and life begin to shift in this new condition?
What does it mean to practise and study architecture while stuck in the confines of only one building? This issue asks – what will change when this is all over?
What will stay the same? And what does SHIFT mean when we live in a constant state of limbo, a space of the in-between, uncertain and ever-changing?

What will be there in the end?

Issue 07/08: SHIFT/TIME 

Issue 07: SHIFT Online

Tope Adesina ~ Death and Metaphor

Liam Oxlade ~ Greyness

Enzo Lara-Hamilton ~ Emptiness and Lost Forms

Brooke Barker ~ Carnegie Local

Tidus Shing ~ A Thousand Fields of Chance

Leon Koutoulas ~ The Rub

Loughlin O’Kane ~ Snapback

Office ~ The Politics of Public Space

Various ~ A Room of One’s Own

Isobel Moy ~ Safe-way

Adrian Fernandez ~ Ubiquitous Object Invisible Object

Mai Lee ~ Objects with Agency

Thomas Lemon ~ Interview with Dr. Jon Goodbun

Audrey Adams, Katya Rumiantceva ~ See You in the Cyber Class

Mietta Mullaly ~ Architecture and The Event

Nhut Nguyen ~ Is a Physical Room Enough to Contain a Person?

Jennifer Chen ~ A Stagnant Moment in Time

Aimee Howard ~ The Benevolent Asylum

Cody McConnell ~ Perpetual Shift and the Trans Experience

Georgia McCole ~ Domesticity

Sam Torre ~ Home

Caliper ~ Editorial