The Cascade: a staircase made of light

The Cascade is one of those places that changes completely depending on the hour. In daylight it reads as architecture: clean terraces of tufa stone climbing the hillside, fountains stepping down between them, sculpture scattered along the landings. At night it becomes something else entirely — a lit staircase suspended above the city, each level glowing a slightly different temperature.

That second version is the one we wanted to capture. The engraving traces the stepped silhouette rather than the ornament, because at a small scale the ornament turns to noise. What survives is the rhythm: five broad terraces, the vertical seam of the escalator hall inside, the horizon of Yerevan behind it.

Held against a wall in a dark room, the light falls in bands. It's not a photograph of the Cascade. It's closer to the memory you keep after walking down it at midnight.