Having relocated to Brisbane - I'm so pleased to have this new vet clinic in my neighbourhood servicing the area. There's always this moment where you squint at your fur baby and think... is this little twitch you've got going actually something worth worrying about... and will my vet judge me for freaking out about this. Y'see, the thing about finding a vet is that you always need to get the magic just right with your doctor.... also, it's a plus when you can literally roll out of the home and walk to a vet near New Farm.
I'm told the food dispensers / interactive food bowls will slow down the feeding process for my puppy, which will reduce bloat (although they noted that the condition really affects older dogs) - still the benefits of ensuring that my puppy doesn't inhale his food may be quite the good thing....
They've got a pretty smashing art of a dalmatian swimming into a jellyfish. Pretty sure those are human legs sticking out from under it as well... anyway, check out Fortitude Valley Vet - it's pretty much a perfect vet clinic that somehow grew a seductive pet shop out the front. Very eye-catching!
This incredible gif by Helen Green of David Bowie's transformation has been making the rounds on the Twitterverse (and what must be every other social media platform out there). And in the avalanche of tributes (including this lightning bolt constellation by Belgian Astronomers*), I'm left somewhat contemplative about this idea of Transformation.
Sure, at this point, I'm transforming into a blind version of myself as I type out this post — this gif is sending screaming afterimage after afterimage down the quivering canal of my optic nerve. If only there was a function to arrest the circularity of Bowie's swing from left to right... much like the politics of idealistic greenhorns climbing into the corporate world, and then finding themselves dislocated into new ideologies... or old ideologies of power, wealth, and legacy.
This transformation is... Desire. I see it - Green's gif above is like Neil Gaiman's character Desire (from the Sandman series) - so sumptuous that the transformation is like a gargle in mid-mouth, aching to be released... and while something leave you feeling rather used at the end of the day, I reckon this one will leave you freshened.
Goodnight, Star Dust.
* the constellation is perched in the space corridor near Mars — a tiny part of the 'Stardust for Bowie' tribute project on Google Sky.
I agree, communication for us is a rather silent affair. I throw myself to your streets, you consume my thoughts, and at the end of the brief times I share with you... I'm always left with so many unvoiced questions, it gets harder and harder to talk about you.
We've had some good times:
May 10, 2009
November 9, 2008
May 15, 2006
But then I find out that you shared this incredible moment with someone else:
It's not that I mind... I just want to know when it happened?
- - - - - - - - - -
Paul Madonna has been drawing these deceptively inert illustrations for the San Francisco Chronicle since 2004 (his works were introduced by the paper in this article here). I absolutely love seeing his work on paper. His urban-scapes cling to the city - like a lover half-asleep in the morning. And the way in which he extracts brick, mortar, pavement, and window sill from their natural 'habitats', juxtaposing this wild scribble against the street - it's breathtakingly unsettled and... even liquid in manner. His piece above from 15 May 06: the ink-work is almost this stain that bends the curb to the road, nestling the grill against the urgency of the shadows. Textures are hinted at; cracks are pulled apart all the more widely; and the picture cuts off fiercely at the top as if to tell you, 'you're not looking at the right place'. And just off-center, the words: Your existence gives me hope... made all the more poignant because the graffiti actually exists in the Mission, SF. Or at least, it used to.
Paul's work has heavily featured the architecture of San Francisco, but in recent times, the he's ended up flirting with other cities (a trait we seem to share....)
I stumbled across this article on one of your Architect-sons the other day, and I just had to find out more about you. Sure, this is somewhat akin to stalking, but I am man caught by this intense desire to know more about Victor's Djorbenadze's Soviet Wedding Palace. Forgive me if I'm being too forward.
The aggravating thing about it all was that I began with the article - it didn't have pictures - and started slowly crawling around the net for images to bring to life Rolf Gross' intense imagery and descriptions of the place.
I found the plan of the Wedding Palace based on the anatomical drawing Victor Djobenadze got out of his mother's book (she's a gynaecologist).
Then I find an image of the "false dome" Gross compares with the stacked roof sructures in 4th Century Buddhist temples in Central Asia. His vision is incredible - the symmetry and the meditation of structure... it's interesting. Architecture is often described in very masculine terms, but this building is extraordinarily feminine.
Then I find this tantalising image of the palace interior with the bridge housing the choir for ceremonies. And a few more from Flickr:
some construction pictures:
Check out Igor Palmin's Flickr set (source for the B&W photos) here.
Finally, I end up at the same website I started from, but on a separate page where Gross has provided images to go with his descriptions... still, despite the aggravation, m'lady, you are most definitely worth the chase:
This post is part of my 'Speed-Dating Cities' series...
Marsala House, Dianella, 1977
Source: here and here.
Iwan Iwanoff's (1919 - 1986) meticulous assemblage of concrete blocks appear, at first glance, mathematical, but the whimsy that encompasses (and, perhaps, distinguishes) his body of work has me chasing down a different description...
... I could say they remind me of the music video for Royksopp's "Happy Up Here":
But I think I'll go with this:
Iwanoff's houses are a parliament of blockwork - complex and formed of aligned candidates fielded by their respective little, blocky, caucuses. Each, certain of its place ,and comfortable in the public glare; each, vocal in contributing to the party's voice. Mies van der Rohe once said that "architecture is the will of an epoch translated into space". Unapologetic, these acervation of blocks sing with a material-led optimism that persists from the 60's and 70's, a quality that is unfortunately lacking in buildings of the current age.
Kessel House, Dianella, 1977.
Source: here and here.
Look here, Potenza: even though Sergio Musmeci's viaduct at Potenza with it's fancy-schmancy mathematics makes me shudder at memory of having to learn hyperbolic functions in Complex Maths class (go away, cosh and sinh!)... let's just bury the hatchet and move on.
When can I see you again?
Sure, I am suspicious of neoprene models artfully arranged by professors to demonstrate how their structure uses minimal material for maximum performance...
But I'll be honest here, the way your viaduct was constructed and the end results:
Makes me want to go for dinner with you and your mamma so I can see how you'll age over the years.
I bet you'll look amazing.
One small thing though: I don't get how you can get away with not having protection over your electrified railway lines.
If this were Australia, there'd be all sorts of barriers and wire mesh - partly to keep our wonderful citizens from accidentally touching the wires, but mostly to "spray" the pee - our young men have been thought to suffer from this strange condition where they climb up bridges and pee over them onto electrified lines.... causing massive electrocution. in all the wrong places.
I take it the men you have with you... don't have the same problems?
I don't have that much connection with my distant Aunt Adelaide, but my parents have been nagging me for ages to go out with her for "just a meal", they say.
"She's changed!" My mum vehemently declares.
"In what way?" I venture...
"She's had some work done on her recently... you won't be embarrassed to be seen with her in public." My sister adds helpfully.
"Take one for the team," my dad says, finally. I roll my eyes, so the real story here is that no one wants to go out with Aunt Adelaide, and I'm the sucker with my hand still up.
What my sister 'neglected' to tell me was that the work Adelaide had done was on her zoo. I'm sorry, if your zoo is sweeping up all the architectural awards in your city, there is a huge problem with the architectural work you're encouraging. Sure, they might have an architectural visionary as patron of zoo-keeping, but that's no excuse. Trying to make yourself beautiful via your zoo is just like.... rhino-plasty... you're not doing it for Adelaide, you're doing it to panda to others (sorry - yes, those puns were bad).
Still, the architectural intervention is probably my favourite in Adelaide - particularly the Entry Precinct and the Panda enclosure. Hassell did an absolutely breathtaking job in contributing to this emergent trend of Australian Architects producing gripping urban spaces for zoos (Think Werribee Free Range Zoo, Healesville Sanctuary etc). It's almost as if architects here are only able to successfully think about the interaction of landscape - as habitat for the host city and guesting animals; as places of respite, recreation and reproduction - and how a building touches this manufactured environmental 'truce' when they're having a knee-jerk reaction to having to justify or prove that they're competent in giving animals a home away from home. And they do a damn good job at convincing themselves and others. Sad, but true. And if only they would apply it to the actual city itself.
Oh Aunt Adelaide, you're almost hot enough for me to introduce to my single mates. Almost.
A really good example of the success our architects are having in this area is Iredale Pedersen Hook's Orangutan Enclosure in Perth. I could go into details about how the poles are recycled concrete posts provided by Western Power, and how the shape of the roof forms came out of Finn Pedersen's little half-sober play with a paper coaster... but anyone visiting would see the successful interaction of animal in play with its adoptive home.
