As a former corporate sales professional for fifteen years, I’ve spent years following playbooks that other people wrote. After discovering aquascaping as a hobby, I quickly became skilled at replicating designs that other aquarists create. While my tanks looked nice, they looked like everybody else’s tanks.
It wasn’t until I scrolled through Instagram one evening, probably when I should have been asleep, that I noticed how many of the tanks I saw were virtually identical. They all featured the same rock formations, plant combinations, and “golden ratio” layouts that everybody keeps talking about. I realised I’d become very proficient at mimicking what others have done, but hadn’t yet expressed anything that was unique to myself. In short, I was tired of being another copycat.
I decided to begin experimenting. Experimenting means making a ton of costly mistakes that teach you the hard way how things work. However, some of the experiments I conducted were successes, and I would like to discuss the strange materials and set-ups I’ve attempted, along with what didn’t work and what turned into some of the best tanks I’ve ever created.
My first unconventional item was glass. Not decorative glass ornaments from the pet store, but actual glass items that I purchased at a salvage yard in Columbus. I was searching for alternative sources of driftwood (apparently I’m the type of person who thinks salvage yards may carry aquarium supplies). I stumbled upon these curved glass panels that were going to be removed from some modern building renovation. The glass was approximately 8 inches in height, crystal clear, with smooth flowing curves that reflect light in interesting ways.
Making the glass safe for an aquarium was a project. I spent months researching whether architectural glass was acceptable for fish tanks, soaking the glass in de-chlorinated water, and conducting tests to ensure the glass wouldn’t leach chemicals into the water. Since the glass was tempered, it wouldn’t create hazardous shards if it somehow broke; however, after a month of testing, my water parameters remained consistent. Therefore, the glass entered the tank.
The results were astounding. The light reflected off of the glass panels created movement as the fish swam past, almost similar to underwater aurora. The glass panels separated the tank space in such a manner that it appeared larger than the physical dimensions of the tank, providing concealed areas behind the glass for shy fish to retreat. The weird part is that I think the light reflection was providing additional photosynthetic opportunities for the plants located near the glass, because the Crypts growing near the glass began producing new leaves at an alarming rate.
The success of the glass element inspired me to seek out other materials. I began visiting construction sites (with permission- I am not completely reckless) to look for interesting metals, stones, and ceramics that might be suitable for use in an aquarium. I found these titanium strips that had been a part of a high end kitchen renovation. Titanium is supposed to be completely inert in water, and has a beautiful brushed finish that provides a great contrast to the organic plant life.
The addition of metal elements provided a level of industrial aesthetics that I was not anticipating enjoying as much as I did. There is something visually pleasing about soft aquatic plants covering hard metal surfaces – it’s almost like watching nature reclaim abandoned buildings, but on a smaller scale and much quicker. I now have a tank where hornwort has covered a titanium framework I built, creating geometric shapes that are part natural, and part architectural.
However, I have not been successful with every attempt at using non-traditional materials. Once, I attempted to incorporate copper pipe into a design due to the aesthetic appeal of the colour, and it nearly killed all of the fish in the tank. Copper is toxic to the majority of aquatic life – something I should have investigated further prior to attempting to integrate it into my aquarium.
I lost three Cardinal Tetras and a bunch of Cherry Shrimp due to my poor decision-making. I learned the hard way that simply because something appears aesthetically pleasing does not mean it should be placed into an aquarium.
I have also been experimenting with plants. I have incorporated terrestrial plants into paludarium designs, but I became interested in pushing the limits of what is considered acceptable in regards to transitioning between fully aquatic and fully terrestrial environments.
I designed a tank with different moisture levels throughout utilizing various substrates and water circulation patterns. Some areas of the tank were entirely submersed, while other areas were consistently moist, and a couple of areas remained relatively dry. This allowed me to plant a variety of species – ranging from the traditional aquatic Anubias to air plants to small Succulents – in the same tank. Maintaining the tank is a logistical nightmare – each species of plant requires a different fertilizing schedule, pruning needs, and growth rate.
When it works, it’s like I’m maintaining an entire ecosystem within a 40-gallon tank. The air plants provide alien-like focal points, while the Succulents add unanticipated colours and textures. The Aquatic plants serve as the base for the rest of the ecosystem to thrive.
I have numerous photographs of this tank that people refuse to believe are actual pictures of an aquarium because it is so drastically different from what most people consider a traditional aquascaping.
Incorporating technology into my aquariums is the newest area of exploration for me. I initially utilized programmable LED lights that simulated weather patterns – gradually increasing the brightness during dawn hours, simulating occasional cloud cover, etc. However, I soon became ambitious and constructed a system capable of physically changing hardscapes within the tank.
For the record, this sounds far more advanced than it truly is. I essentially utilized aquarium-safe servos (which are the same motors used in remote-control cars) to slowly rotate or reposition pieces of driftwood or rocks over the course of hours or days. My goal was to simulate natural environmental changes that aquatic creatures may experience in their native habitats – e.g., how riverbeds change over time, or how trees fall and roll in currents.
The mechanical aspects of the system were a challenge. Waterproofing electronic devices to use in aquariums is extremely difficult, and I destroyed multiple servo motors prior to developing a method of encasing them properly. Additionally, any moving parts in an aquarium collect algae and plant debris at an alarming rate, requiring significantly more frequent maintenance than my static tanks required.
However, observing a piece of driftwood slowly rotate over the course of days or weeks, revealing new planting areas and providing new territories for fish to inhabit, was quite remarkable. I observed the fish in the tank exploring the newly revealed hiding places and increased activity as the light patterns changed over the day.
Additionally, I have tested materials that change based on water conditions. I acquired thermochromic tiles (change colour based on temperature) intended for bathroom usage. After applying an aquarium-safe coating to the tiles, I used them as accent substrates in the tank. As the aquarium heater activates, the portions of the tank floor adjacent to the thermochromic tiles transition from deep blue to bright green. It’s a subtle effect, but adds a sense of life to the aquarium where the tank itself appears to react to its surroundings.
One of the largest challenges associated with this type of experimentation is ensuring that your unconventional elements remain viable for the long-term, and that the maintenance required for the elements is reasonable. Traditional aquascaping materials, such as stone and driftwood, will endure for centuries with minimal care. Glass elements require regular cleaning to prevent the loss of clarity. Metal components will require periodic monitoring to detect any signs of corrosion. Moving parts require regular examination and lubrication with aquarium-safe products. Lastly, the greater complexity of plant combinations will necessitate managing different fertilization schedules, pruning requirements, and growth rates.
To date, I have developed a habit of documenting all of my experimental tanks – including water parameter data, maintenance schedules, and what is working and what is failing. Because when you are utilizing untested materials and custom configurations, you cannot simply search for the answer to “what’s causing this bizarre behavior in my aquarium.”
Additionally, safety is a major concern. Each new material must undergo extensive testing before I will allow any fish or invertebrates to come into contact with it. I have a designated test tank in which I will soak materials for weeks while I monitor the water chemistry. I have learned to err on the side of caution regarding bioload in experimental tanks since I do not always understand how the new elements will impact the biological filtration of the tank.
Through this process, I have discovered that the most effective unconventional elements are those that enhance or utilize natural processes rather than hinder them. The glass panels function because they interact with the ambient light. The metal frameworks function when plants can grow on them naturally. The dynamic elements are most effective when they replicate environmental changes that aquatic animals would experience in their natural habitats.
Most of the failures occur when I attempt to force an unnatural element into the biological system without considering how the element will fit into the larger picture of the aquarium. Aquariums are not merely display pieces – they are living ecosystems, and every component impacts everything else. Whether you are using conventional materials or experimenting with unusual items you have found at a construction site, this is true.
Over the course of two years of experimenting with unconventional aquascaping, I have developed a greater appreciation for both the artistic and biological aspects of the aquarium hobby. Conventional techniques provided me with the basis for understanding how the techniques function, while experimenting with unconventional materials has given me a deeper appreciation for why those techniques function as well as they do.
Honestly, some of my favorite tanks today are hybrid tanks – primarily traditional configurations with one or two unconventional elements that provide a unique identity to the tank. If you’re considering experimenting with unusual materials or configurations, my recommendation is to begin small and research extensively. Test all materials thoroughly before placing them into an established aquarium. Understand that you will likely have failures, and plan accordingly – financially, as well as emotionally. However, when an experiment is successful, and you develop something that is unlike anything anyone else has created before, it makes the expense and frustration of the failed experiments worthwhile.
