Georgia O'Keeffe, the artist who made flowers look like they were auditioning for a dream sequence, also had a thing for buildings. Who knew? The Detroit Institute of Arts certainly did, and they've assembled Georgia O'Keeffe: Architecture, a show of nearly 40 works that swaps the usual melting organic curves for firm, straight lines - farmhouses, barns, and even those electrified skyscrapers that make Manhattan look like a robot's birthday cake.

Curator Ben Coleman, who oversaw the exhibition, wanted to tell a different story about an artist we all think we know. 'We can take a fresh look at works that O'Keeffe always considered essential and celebrate them in the way she wanted to,' he said, presumably while adjusting his spectacles and gesturing at a barn.

The whole idea sprouted from O'Keeffe's 1932 painting Stables, a tranquil side view of a building in upstate New York or Quebec - she got around. It's a riot of bright green, rich burgundy, and eggshell white, and it made Coleman realize that O'Keeffe wasn't just about petals and pelvises. 'Stables is very precise in its use of geometry,' he noted, 'and for many people who know O'Keeffe also a bit unexpected.'

Coleman's fresh eyes then wandered to O'Keeffe's New York City pieces, created from her apartment in the Shelton Hotel, where she and husband Alfred Stieglitz lived on the 11th, then 28th, then 30th floors - out of 31. 'It was likely the tallest residential building in the world at the time,' Coleman said, which explains why O'Keeffe's cityscapes feel like they're looking down on everyone, literally.

These works show gritty industrial life along the East River, with smokestacks belching pollution and endless rows of anonymous buildings. It's a far cry from her desert bones, but Coleman sees a through-line: 'She tried very hard to represent the spirit and character of these places... So in my mind it connects an adobe church in New Mexico with a skyscraper in midtown Manhattan.'

One standout is O'Keeffe's 1949 Brooklyn Bridge painting, a swan song as she fled to New Mexico. It's almost religious, with flattened arches like stained glass windows and swooping cables that make the bridge look both holy and slightly wobbly. Coleman calls it 'deeply personal,' documenting her moment of departure with a 'beautiful, poetic quality... almost like looking through a stained glass window.'

The show also gathers multiple paintings of a humble patio door at her Abiquiu, New Mexico home, which she bought in 1945 and spent four years restoring. She lived there from 1949 to 1984, and the door inspired a series of nearly abstract works - rectangles of color with minimal perspective, putting her in the company of Agnes Martin and Mark Rothko. Martin was moved to write: 'It was a joyous experience and afterwards I knew more about the possibility of human response.'

For those who can't just imagine the vibes, the exhibition includes immersive digital experiences that simulate standing in O'Keeffe's shoes - on the Shelton's upper floors or in her Abiquiu patio, letting you slow down and appreciate the subtle details of place, as if you're about to paint a door.

Coleman is thrilled to shed light on this architectural side of O'Keeffe, which was inspired by her network of architects and designers. 'It's a really exciting story,' he said, 'to see these rich connections that inspired her to engage with the built environment for many years. I think visitors will be surprised that these works exist at all.' Surprised, indeed - like finding out your favorite poet also wrote haikus about parking garages.

Georgia O'Keeffe: Architecture runs from 11 September to 3 January at the Detroit Institute of Arts. Bring your hard hat and your sense of wonder.