Do you think the things we build today

will be considered wonders in the future?

Think of Stonehenge,

the Pyramids,

Machu Picchu, and Easter Island.

Now, they're all pretty different
from what we're doing today,

with those massive stones,

assembled in complex
but seemingly illogical ways,

and all traces of their construction

erased,

shrouding them in mystery.

It seems like people could not
have possibly built these things,

because people didn't.

They were carefully crafted
by a primordial race of giants

known as Cyclops.

(Laughter)

And I've been collaborating
with these monsters

to learn their secrets
for moving those massive stones.

And as it turns out,
Cyclops aren't even that strong.

They're just really smart
about getting material to work for them.

Now, the videos you see behind me
of large, stone-like, wobbly creatures

are the results of this collaboration.

OK, so Cyclops might be
a mythical creature,

but those wonders are still real.

People made them.

But they also made the myths
that surround them,

and when it comes to wonders,
there's this thick connective tissue

between mythology and reality.

Take Easter Island, for example.

When the Dutch explorers
first encountered the island,

they asked the people of Rapa Nui

how their ancestors could have possibly
moved those massive statues.

And the Rapa Nui said,

"Our ancestors didn't move the statues,

because the statues walked themselves."

For centuries, this was dismissed,
but actually it's true.

The statues, known as moai,
were transported standing,

pivoting from side to side.

OK?

As spectacular as the moai are
for visitors today,

you have to imagine being there then,

with colossal moai
marching around the island,

because the real memorial
was not the objects themselves,

it was the cultural ritual
of bringing a stone to life.

So as an architect,
I've been chasing that dream.

How can we shift our idea of construction
to accommodate that mythical side?

So what I've been doing
is challenging myself

with putting on a series of performances

of the ancient but
pretty straightforward task

of just moving and standing
big heavy objects,

like this 16-foot-tall megalith
designed to walk across land

and stand vertically;

or this 4,000-pound behemoth
that springs itself to life

to dance onstage.

And what I've found is
that by thinking of architecture

not as an end product but as a performance

from conception to completion,

we end up rediscovering some really smart
ways to build things today.

You know, so much of the discussion
surrounding our future

focuses on technology,
efficiency and speed,

but if I've learned anything from Cyclops,

it's that wonders
can be smart, spectacular

and sustainable

because of their mass and their mystery.

And while people still want to know
how those ancient wonders were built,

I've been asking Cyclops
how to create the mystery

that compels people
to ask that very question.

Because in an era
where we design buildings

to last 30, maybe 60 years,

I would love to learn
how to create something

that could entertain for an eternity.

Thank you.

(Applause)