The Hero UFO began with little more than a dimensional brief.

The challenge was not simply to draw a twenty-metre object. It was to develop a complete construction and installation system that allowed something visually outrageous to be fabricated efficiently, moved safely, lifted into position and resolved on location.

I developed the scaffold geometry, ballast strategy, structural interfaces, ribs, formers and CNC-cut outer skins as parts of the same system. The UFO could be assembled at ground level, where the work was safer and more efficient, before being lifted into position and cantilevered approximately nine metres over the location.

That meant thinking beyond the finished object. The design needed to account for how pieces were fabricated, how trades would reach them, how the structure connected to scaffold and ballast, how the crane would carry it, how it would land on its supports and how the site crew would complete the installation.

The best result was not that the construction looked complicated.

It was that, by the time it reached site, it felt straightforward.

The Fall Guy is a clear example of what I mean by creative technical design.

The object on screen is spectacular, but the work that interests me most sits underneath it: turning an unreasonable visual idea into a construction system that fabricators, riggers, crane crews and site teams can actually deliver.

The technical design succeeded because the complexity was resolved before it became somebody else’s problem.

The spectacle belongs on screen.

The complexity belongs in the thinking that came before it.