A corrugated steel grain bin—an everyday organ of the rural landscape—is cut, opened, and fanned across the dark façade of the UNMC Residence Hall. The rusted galvanized wedges are installed alongside new flat panels in pink-red tones, like fresh grafts held in place by bolts that read as sutures.

In medicine, a biopsy is a precise cut that allows doctors to read the condition of the whole body. This work performs an architectural biopsy: a sample taken from the agricultural periphery is brought to the heart of the medical campus. Old and new panels meet like tissues in repair, staging the building as a site where landscapes, bodies, and forms of care are continuously opened, studied, and healed.

The fan’s radial geometry recalls anatomical diagrams and imaging slices, while its material comes directly from the rural communities UNMC serves. The piece suggests that every cut—whether in a field, a building, or a clinic—can be an act of diagnosis, teaching, and transformation rather than destruction.