Marcus Ormerod wrote:
> I would agree with Jean that there are lots of great architects form
>all sorts of places, but perhaps we should be seeking the most
>humblest architect such as those involved in community projects
>rather than those who actively seek the limelight and flashy
>projects.
Picking up this point: are there not good reasons to avoid publicity
and the detrimental effect it has on over-spotlit design?
The decline in design quality of those who receive increasing
media coverage appears evident, unless I'm inspired to overly
find fault in those self-replicative works and defenerative visages
and inane comments too often bruited and rammed into my numb
tranquility. Eisenman, for example, and Rem, deserve a long rest
in Bhutanese monastery, or years of solving bizarre cad protocols.
What alternative to getting the job, job, job is there to being
drawn into the destructive web of consumerist kitschy promo
comparisons of the "greatest," the "best," the most
sordid and craven and ridiculous examples of burnt-out,
lightless hunks of dead matter forever being repackaged
in the infinitely over-starred, over-hyped galaxy, I ask.
Is there an alternative to being turned into rancid snacks for
today's bloated, jaded gobbler and vomiter of plastic popcorn
reputations? Who are the ace designers who will forever flee
the interview (Fargo), or am I asking the impossible, that
without fame and glory beckoning no fireflies will suicide for
yawning semi-entertainment?
Poor Mockabee, already being recycled (and hatcheted) endlessly.
The work is in decline: compare the versions before pub-mach
kick-in and after.
Dead architects of the past, pre-dead architects of today murdered
by over-attention, hah. Leave them be, cut your own throat or shut
the fu and get on with carpel tunneling pixels.
Jean, you must escape that competition publicity crap-trap.
Hack your leg off. Hobble into obscurity forever. Leave
no blood drops for the baying hounds to find you or you're doomed
to being Philip Johnsonized as another court jester to the
Canadian whatsher name ghoul, or worst of all, for mounting
on an archi-hist trophy hunter's pin-donkey dartboard,
Hooray for the Basque destructors, may they succeed in
perforating Gehry's self-repetitive plane-crash, bam, boom
and tilting Serra's ever-declining elf-repetitive arc, arf, arf.
> I would agree with Jean that there are lots of great architects form
>all sorts of places, but perhaps we should be seeking the most
>humblest architect such as those involved in community projects
>rather than those who actively seek the limelight and flashy
>projects.
Picking up this point: are there not good reasons to avoid publicity
and the detrimental effect it has on over-spotlit design?
The decline in design quality of those who receive increasing
media coverage appears evident, unless I'm inspired to overly
find fault in those self-replicative works and defenerative visages
and inane comments too often bruited and rammed into my numb
tranquility. Eisenman, for example, and Rem, deserve a long rest
in Bhutanese monastery, or years of solving bizarre cad protocols.
What alternative to getting the job, job, job is there to being
drawn into the destructive web of consumerist kitschy promo
comparisons of the "greatest," the "best," the most
sordid and craven and ridiculous examples of burnt-out,
lightless hunks of dead matter forever being repackaged
in the infinitely over-starred, over-hyped galaxy, I ask.
Is there an alternative to being turned into rancid snacks for
today's bloated, jaded gobbler and vomiter of plastic popcorn
reputations? Who are the ace designers who will forever flee
the interview (Fargo), or am I asking the impossible, that
without fame and glory beckoning no fireflies will suicide for
yawning semi-entertainment?
Poor Mockabee, already being recycled (and hatcheted) endlessly.
The work is in decline: compare the versions before pub-mach
kick-in and after.
Dead architects of the past, pre-dead architects of today murdered
by over-attention, hah. Leave them be, cut your own throat or shut
the fu and get on with carpel tunneling pixels.
Jean, you must escape that competition publicity crap-trap.
Hack your leg off. Hobble into obscurity forever. Leave
no blood drops for the baying hounds to find you or you're doomed
to being Philip Johnsonized as another court jester to the
Canadian whatsher name ghoul, or worst of all, for mounting
on an archi-hist trophy hunter's pin-donkey dartboard,
Hooray for the Basque destructors, may they succeed in
perforating Gehry's self-repetitive plane-crash, bam, boom
and tilting Serra's ever-declining elf-repetitive arc, arf, arf.