Has a canvas' blankness excited you more than the art occupying it? Does a half-preserved manuscript conjure a complete page in the mind? Do ruins or remains transport you to civilisation? These pauses, gaps, even interruptions are not antithetical to completeness. They stimulate them.

The lacunae in aquatic plants adaptively lend them buoyancy. The dramatic swell in a concerto would mean little without an induced silence. In creation, as in nature and music, the gap is a needed interjection; a void breaking the solidity of the composition, for us to consider context, confront history.

The empty space, deliberate or not, fires the imagination, tickling us to 'fill the gaps', just as in this dispatch. The lacunae in Oxford's urban morphology yield a non-hierarchical campus in the Schwarzman Centre for the Humanities. The gap between unceasing progress and nostalgia forms the dilemma of 'Last Man in Tower'. At MMCA, Korea, art rife with uninhabited spaces frames the abstract and conceptual. The full picture doesn't divulge itself by dwelling in the gaps; it swallows them whole.