Nothing spent three phone generations convincing us that a few light strips on the back of a device counted as a personality. The Glyph Interface was the whole brand in one gesture, a Morse code of notifications you could read with the phone face-down on a bar table. Then Phone (3) arrived in July 2025 with the Glyph Matrix instead, a small dot matrix circle tucked in the corner, and the comment sections held a funeral. “NO GLYPH” became the shortest and angriest review of the year. Which makes it pretty funny that the most convincing argument for reviving that light language has come from a fan concept for a synthesizer.

Abdelrahman Shaapan’s Mini OP-3 wraps a semi-transparent rear panel around a compact synth, with LED effects and dynamic graphics that pulse along to whatever you’re playing. Flip it over and the front is pure Teenage Engineering, a clamshell with a touchscreen lid and a control deck of encoders, transport keys, numbered pattern buttons, and one red COPY key doing a lot of emotional labor. Shaapan calls the project an exercise in translating the design DNA of both brands into a single object. He also added a charm attachment point on the screen corner, because it is 2026 and everything needs a little guy hanging off it. The pitch is a smaller OP that keeps you off your laptop during production and live sets.

Designer: Abdelrahman Shaapan

Ten function keys run across the top of the deck, covering waveform and tape banks, sync, split, copy, paste, metronome, scissors, monitoring, and loop. Below them sit eight encoders arranged in a greyscale gradient from black to white, which is the single most OP-1 gesture available to any designer working in this language. A transport row follows with record, play, and numbered pattern keys, then a modifier row carrying shift, divide, ramp, and a random button. The hinge hides a perforated speaker band, and the front edge packs two USB-C ports beside four 3.5mm jacks. Every control is round, tactile, and spaced like it expects to be hit fast in a dark room.

Nothing built its identity on light as an interface, then retired it on the Phone (3) in favour of a dot matrix that most owners still describe as a downgrade. Shaapan’s rear panel puts that language back to work, running LED effects and dynamic graphics that respond to your audio in real time. On a phone, reactive lighting was always slightly decorative, a party trick for incoming calls and little else. On an instrument, it has an actual job, giving you a visual read on your track from across a stage or a crowded studio. Relocating the Glyph to the one product category where it earns its keep is a sharper piece of brand analysis than most fan concepts manage.

Shaapan rendered the whole thing in KeyShot. The soft-touch black body, the subtle sheen on the encoder caps, and that partially translucent rear panel with internals showing through all read as convincingly manufacturable rather than aspirational. The charm attachment point is the detail I keep coming back to, since TE has always sold straps and cases as identity objects and phone charms are having a genuine cultural moment. We covered a Teenage Engineering DJ console concept a couple of years back, and this one clears that bar comfortably. The presentation is good enough to be mistaken for a leak.

One thing undercuts the pitch. Shaapan says the goal was minimizing laptop dependence, but three renders show Ableton Live running on the touchscreen, which means the device became a laptop instead of replacing one. Ableton’s own Push 3 already solves the standalone problem and charges around two thousand dollars for it. That gap between the stated intent and the renders is the part a real product team would have to close first. Everything else here, though, is a better Nothing product than Nothing’s last one.

The post Nothing killed the Glyph Interface. This Teenage Engineering synth concept argues that was a mistake first appeared on Yanko Design.

If you ever took a drawing class, you have met this face. Art schools spent about two centuries buying plaster casts of David’s head and parking them on shelves so students could sit there for six hours learning to render a nostril. The Victoria and Albert Museum owns a full size cast of the whole statue, and famously kept a plaster fig leaf on standby in case Queen Victoria dropped by and needed the shock absorbed. So David has been getting copied, shrunk, cast, and occasionally censored for a very long time. Turning him into a toy is not the sacrilege it sounds like. It’s basically the family business.

Which brings us to Ysien, a LEGO Ideas builder who decided the next material in that lineage should be ABS plastic. The build renders David’s head, neck, shoulders and upper chest as a classical bust, entirely in white, sitting on a proper stepped pedestal. No color, no minifigure, no cheeky accessories. Just light and shadow doing all the work, exactly like the plaster casts it descends from.

Designer: Ysien

The hair is the whole reason this MOC (My Own Creation) works. Hair is where sculptors get found out, because faces have anatomy underneath that you can reason your way through, while hair is a mass of overlapping nothing that somehow has to read as soft. Michelangelo’s answer was a tangle of deep drilled curls. Ysien’s answer is a genuinely absurd stack of curved slopes and half arch elements layered at varying depths, so each curl throws its own little shadow instead of flattening into texture. “The hair was one of the greatest challenges, with each curl contributing to the overall silhouette, depth, rhythm, and movement,” he says, which is a very polite way of describing what must have been several evenings of quiet suffering.

My favorite decision, though, is that the seams stay visible. Ysien could have chased a smooth marble finish and lost, because bricks do not do smooth. Instead he let the geometry become part of the sculpture, so the thing reads as a portrait from across the room and as unmistakable LEGO up close. The eyes get a similar treatment, built from inverted round elements that give David that vacant classical stare, which is a nice accident given the real statue has heart shaped pupils drilled into it. Monochrome white does the rest, forcing every bit of the anatomy to be described by shadow alone. There’s no piece count listed yet, although I wouldn’t be surprised if it was in the high hundreds.

Ysien’s David is currently sitting at just over 400 supporters with 424 days on the clock, which means there is a long road to the 10,000 votes that trigger an official LEGO review. LEGO Ideas is where fan builds get their shot at becoming retail sets, and this one deserves a look. The only thing I’d add is a black variant, because a basalt David would be an absolute menace on a shelf. You can head to the LEGO Ideas page and cast your vote!

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