Thursday, June 23, 2011

If 'LA' can discover denim, it's time for us to find the architrave

We ponder the architrave in passing, all the time: sometimes a portal of an augury of shade, sometimes of warmth, or frieze displayed, seldom out of welcome to the curious parade. The other day, Little Augury was out discovering denim, and we thought it the least we could do, to make a trek for architecture's sake. We've never seen a shadow, an architrave might cast, deter intrepid cast of honest wonder, whence we almost thought that if a luminance were fact, shade might be abstraction where we blunder. Pity architecture, to've been assimilated by aesthetics; pity aesthetics, to suffer aesthetes.

A shadow in the gorge it shapes is treachery to jackanapes, a lechery projected in their cares; coincidence of light and its deflection, notwithstanding - a clarion call to prudery to rail against some puderie of theirs. The city shoulders on, a swarm of architraves.

Last night, after a sloppy (but tasty) sandwich and pint of Bitburger down the street [in Stockholm], I took a relaxed walk along the water (the Norr Mälarstrand’s esplanade). The 6-10 story buildings along the walk struck me as (compared to Copenhagen) more articulated / adorned, and vastly more colorful - from creams to the burnt oranges and reds I now associate with Santa Cruz. I mention this, because they were activated (and fully under-stood) in the evening light; sharp and uneven, unlike the soft diffu-sion of light I'd experienced in DK. 

Every building wears the shadow of its neighbor.


Correspondence of an architect
  abroad, cited by permission

ii Marc Chagall, self-portrait


  1. Love this:

    Every building wears the shadow of its neighbor.

  2. Like you, he contributes. This writer's wicked clever; he's traveling on a fellowship from Cal, and when his blog goes up, I'll link it under "Context."

  3. My discoveries are born from a simple reading of an exhibition- how much better to discover from sandwich, a pint and a walk. pgt

  4. The fellow has departed Stockholm, but not without running a sentimental errand for me, to the Drottningholm Court State Theatre, whose productions of Mozart I truly love, and a member of whose company had been a great friend one summer. Here is what he found:

    I've had hours to kill today, between an early checkout and 6 pm train, so I "lockered" my things and headed to Drottningholm. I'm glad you recommended it. The theatre tour was short, but really enjoyable. It has a great story (force-feeding culture to Sweden) and its smells betray the materials - almost entirely wood, treated to convey everything it wasn't (marble, etc.). Indeed, the quality of light - dim, orange candlelight - preserves the illusion. It was a very charming space, and I would've loved to see a show, but there's nothing until late next month, with the premiere of Don Giovanni.

    My dear PGT, if you have to open a season, can you do any better?