Hand on heart: when was the last time you lingered in front of a brutalist lab building for the sheer pleasure of it? Wedged between the Geneva Children’s Hospital and a micro forest, the Centre for Medical Research is shaped like a tulip. But it could just as easily be read as a crystalline organism ejected from an icy galaxy or a Soviet souvenir from the Cold War. 12 slender branches and a filigree golden lattice grow from the massive, fractal concrete trunk, framing a shimmering, candyfloss-tinted glass cube. Watching the pastel shades of pink, blue and yellow softly dissolve in the haze of the summer afternoon sun is a sight to behold.

Even the futuristic, golden lift entrance at the foot of the concrete trunk shines as brightly as the promise of scientific progress – but could also pass for a Bond set designed by Ken Adam. The crystal that fell to earth is also light years away from the ascetic rigour and straight masculinity that dominates the cosmos of Swiss concrete architecture. This 1970s flower bomb proudly and unapologetically embraces both its hard and its soft and fragile sides. If buildings had a gender, La Tulipe would say that those who dance away the norms have more fun. However you read it, this rough diamond remains radically different. In Switzerland and elsewhere.