The design of Ambassadors' residences has less to do with
accomodating the inhabitant's fetishes than with the needs of
satisfying state-sponsored propaganda (pardon me, I meant to
say culture) programs. In its kitschier moments, this
architectural genre includes those funky world-fair national
pavilions.
I guess you could call it the " l'etat c'est moi" look - a few
of Larry Durrell Stone's screened residential doozies come to
mind. And what architect would turn down such a majestic
opportunity.
I don't have to point out that the ambassador's shack is lavish
(if discreetly so) and of course, far exceeds the amenities of
the public housing flat back home, whose humble occupant will
go without hot water to help foot the chief-of-mission's
construction bill for the sake of national prestige. Vive
l'etat.
Anyway, a couple of years ago I saw a set of plans smuggled out
of a then-chic NYC firm for one such US residence in an
embattled eastern-mediterranean country. The blueprints were
stamped: Top Secret -- Not for distribution. Honest.
The furniture placement was not evident, but the following
features were pointed out to me by the designer: rooms not
identified on plans for the protection of occupants, escape
tunnels burrowing out from under building, room-sized fireproof
safes for valuable documents, anti-bomb-attack double-wall
exterior construction (innovative engineering), etc.
Hey, I SAID architecture was a service profession.
What the heck did you think I was talking about, geopolitics?
DN
accomodating the inhabitant's fetishes than with the needs of
satisfying state-sponsored propaganda (pardon me, I meant to
say culture) programs. In its kitschier moments, this
architectural genre includes those funky world-fair national
pavilions.
I guess you could call it the " l'etat c'est moi" look - a few
of Larry Durrell Stone's screened residential doozies come to
mind. And what architect would turn down such a majestic
opportunity.
I don't have to point out that the ambassador's shack is lavish
(if discreetly so) and of course, far exceeds the amenities of
the public housing flat back home, whose humble occupant will
go without hot water to help foot the chief-of-mission's
construction bill for the sake of national prestige. Vive
l'etat.
Anyway, a couple of years ago I saw a set of plans smuggled out
of a then-chic NYC firm for one such US residence in an
embattled eastern-mediterranean country. The blueprints were
stamped: Top Secret -- Not for distribution. Honest.
The furniture placement was not evident, but the following
features were pointed out to me by the designer: rooms not
identified on plans for the protection of occupants, escape
tunnels burrowing out from under building, room-sized fireproof
safes for valuable documents, anti-bomb-attack double-wall
exterior construction (innovative engineering), etc.
Hey, I SAID architecture was a service profession.
What the heck did you think I was talking about, geopolitics?
DN