The historicization of modern architecture is quick to lionize Mies, Gropius, Wright and others, but too often treats them as though they existed in a vacuum, a far-sighted brotherhood whose sole purpose was to change the way we make buildings. National Book Award winner and Yale University professor Peter Gay aimed to set that right in his 2007 work Modernism: The Lure of Heresy.
President Obama's inaugural address yesterday sent me running for William Safire's splendid compendium of great speeches (he used to write speeches for President Nixon), Lend Me Your Ears. I set out to consult Jefferson's first inaugural address--notable for those wonderful lines: "But every difference of opinion is not a different of principle. We have called by different names brethren of the same principle. We are all Republicans, we are all Federalists."--but found myself wandering around inside the book until I hit upon this doozie from Frank Lloyd Wright.
Well, the London Eye has done it: Singapore has its own giant Ferris wheel, as does Nanchang and as of December 20th of last year Melbourne Australia has one too. Beijing and Berlin have observation wheels under construction and Baghdad, Dubai and, er, Orlando, Florida, all have them on the boards. Is this the death knell for starchitect-designed signature buildings rebranding cities? Are the days of swooping museums and glittering symphony halls behind us? Does the future belong to, gulp, engineers, or worse, carnival barkers?
Linden Hills, a leafy neighborhood in southwest Minneapolis abutting recreational Lake Calhoun, is a spot where few fences divide the ranch houses from the Cape Cods and the bungalows, most of them modest exercises in Midwestern economy.
No piece of furniture has more aptly paved the way to connubial bliss than the love seat. And though they’re positively built for wooing, take heed, inconstant lovers: Romantic misdeeds are bound to land you sleeping on one.