Lor Calma, architect, sculptor, furniture designer, educator, who helped steer Philippine architecture and design, passed away Jan. 27, 2026, his son, leading architect Ed Calma, announced on social media. He was 97.
A very affable and nurturing man, we were privileged to have known him, written about him, and met up with him regularly through the years, with a select few of his artist-friends, at lunches and meriendas, just listening to them talk about their works and dreams for Philippine architecture and design.
He loved to talk and mentor us about the clarity and rigor of design, how he loved the simplicity and starkness of lines and shapes, how he was into minimalism long before younger generations of architects and designers embraced that ethos. To him, art was not only aesthetic but more so, structure. And he proved this even in his furniture design. The Lor Calma furniture became the forerunner of home design that mined Philippine raw materials and crafts.
This renaissance man was also a bon vivant—the original foodie, long before the term was coined—who’d take us and his artist friends to places to discover good food, good, rich food. A true Pampangueño.
His passing is a great loss to the country which should one day name him National Artist. The future generations are deprived of hearing his voice of experience and wisdom.
We are reposting here a feature interview we wrote in 1998 for Philippine Daily Inquirer, where he talked—excitedly—about the innovative four-story glass sculpture he was then building for the city fast taking shape south of Makati—what is now the BGC.
This article is in our book, ‘i’m afraid of heights (or why i can’t social-climb),’ published in 2012.)
1998
Lor Calma, one of the country’s foremost architects—the maverick one—is building a four-story sculpture monument made of glass. This should be the first of its kind in the world.
To be built in the mega-city that is fast taking shape at Fort Bonifacio, Calma’s design was one of the three winners in the public art contest among international artists held by the Fort Bonifacio Development Corp. last year.
The contest signified Fort Bonifacio’s commitment to devote about one percent of every building/project cost to public art. This move in itself was a milestone in the high-density real estate development in the country, where every inch of space is used for occupancy.
Lor Calma’s work is a feat in Philippine architecture, which comes after a long drought in this field. Calma’s work is unique because it’s a gargantuan sculpture that will use glass, a very challenging and deceivingly fragile medium for such a grand scale. Existing glass sculptures are either mere objects or not that huge or solid (the Louvre’s glass pyramid, for instance, is a roof).
To construct this four-story monument landmark, Calma proves his mettle and experience both as architect and sculptor, combining skills in construction with the sensibility of design.
“It is because of his architecture background that Lor is not intimidated by a sculpture of such monumental scale,” said an art critic.
Calma has titled his work Transformation, consisting of three towers or the equivalent of four-story and three-story buildings. It will use about 80 tons of glass. Each structure will be layers of slabs of glass.
Calma calls it a “seismic sculpture” because it has a floating foundation and will be constructed to withstand the elements and an intensity 8 earthquake. This feat alone is an unexplored area in glass monument.
Its ground will be granite, with fiber optics so that it is illuminated to send off thin columns of light in ruby, garnet, jade—the colors of stones. Water will flow down the structure, and music will come from a sound equipment—perfect for promenaders.
The light should create the illusion of a floating sculpture.
Indeed, Calma’s Transformation blends the elements of light, sound and water; the senses of hearing, touch and sight; art with the environment. It combines the discipline of design with engineering; sculpture with architecture.
In sum, it embodies what this architect of more than 40 years has said time and again: “Design is discipline.”

Photo from Arts at BGC and BGC Arts Center
Known for his clean yet visually potent structures, Calma stands out in an era of Philippine architecture that, sadly, has been known for borloloy or embellishments. It is proof of his discipline and aesthetics sense that he’s safeguarded the integrity of form and structure, while others breeze by on the merit of ornate yet superficial facades. As he himself has often said, there’s a thin line between kitsch and real sculpture or architecture.
His peers who have seen his winning design were quick to note how he’s reconciled the contradictions in it—it is monumental, yet, with the use of glass, it impresses you with its seeming fragility. It is overwhelmingly solid, yet the flowing water will give it the veneer of softness and fluidity.
He could have used stainless steel, as many monument builders today do, but didn’t because he found steel “too cold.”
‘Glass is malambing, so Filipino’
“Glass is malambing, so Filipino,” he said, and with it he could weave as many visual effects as he pleases. For instance, pierced by slivers of light, the glass will sparkle like diamond. His three rectangular towers are the simplest forms—again, proof of his discipline.
“I chose the simplest form,” he said, “because glass as material is already overwhelming.”
Calma chose to call it Transformation because he conceived the towers to refer to the past, present and future; to earth, water and heaven; to God, gold and glory. “You have to be godly to get gold and glory,” he said, his age-old wisdom showing.
To Calma, sculpture, as art critic Dr. Rod. Paras-Perez noted, is kinetic, never still. Its form denotes movement and fluidity.
This sculpture could just be the crowning glory of Calma, the architect and sculptor.
Calma is a Filipino renaissance man. He is a bon vivant and like every Pampangueño, loves and knows good food. I feel privileged to be able to do lunch quite regularly with him and Dr. Rod., when they talk about food, art, history—in equal measure. It always is a filling and learning lunch (and there’s gossip too).
I remember the day when, right after lunch, he brought me to his office to let me meet someone who’s working in his staff. There, seated at the desk, quietly at work was Ed Calma. He introduced me to his introverted son who was just back from New York where he graduated and trained as an architect.
From that day on, Lor, like a proud father, has always shepherded Ed to me so that we could know more about this young man’s orientation in architecture—his severe minimalism and somewhat industrialist touch the country hadn’t quite seen until then. Ed’s design is cerebral, his approach to space very logical and fluid. Little did I know then that the young Ed Calma would raise the bar of Philippine architecture.
The father Lor, meanwhile, continues to be in love with life. Aside from being a gourmet, he is an ikebana and landscape artist. He really doesn’t have to work another day in his life, having spent the past 45 years building some of the country’s fine buildings and homes. Yet he confesses to feeling a certain hunger each night as he goes to bed.
“I dream at night about that structure.”




