The oceanic sweep of the Centre for the Unknown unites sea with sky on a peninsula in the Tagus. “I’m very proud this is not a museum of modern art,” architect Charles Correa says, “It is a place of cutting edge science and medicine, where people come with real problems.” Twin pillars frame a distant landmass, the sea is mercury, the sky is lead. This place is dedicated to human health, moulded around António Champalimaud’s notion of translational science. The building unites theory with practice, researcher with clinician, horizon with horizon. A path loops the peninsula where the river meets the sea. This was a starting point for voyages of discovery, a crack in the world that let the future in. An aperture frames a hill, sliced in two by an angle matching its gradient. An olive tree, stirred by the centuries, is held in a curve. Reflective surfaces look at the sea and the sea looks back. At the shoreline, an island is submerged. “Architecture as beauty, beauty as therapy,” Correa says. Every vanishing point drives inwards to where the institutions intertwine. Wherever they meet, there is a place for people.