Coming soon- a new road or bus stop probably near you!
Today, January 28th, the House OK'ed $819B stimulus bill. President Obama, in a written statement, said that it will "save or create three million new jobs over the next few years." Included in this stimulus is money for highway construction and (yay!) a "last minute $3 billion for mass transit."
source:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090129/ap_on_go_co/obama_economy
It's always gratifying when your elected leaders actually follow through on what they say they will do. For this I am willing to have a hike in my taxes! Just not a painful one, please.
For further thought, once he digs us out of this economic snafu perhaps the president will be able to give more attention to urban cities, and not just the schools, but the entire cities as Mick Cornett, mayor of Oklahoma City observed,
"What I hear mayors say typically is that urban issues aren't truly understood at the White House."
(as quoted in "Mayor League" by Jess Zimbabwe, Next American City, Issue 20, 25)
Dear President Obama, For Christmas I would like mass transit in every major city, a small park in every neighborhood, zero dependence on foreign oil,. . .
I know President Obama's a busy man, but I do have my personal causes. Still, I like to imagine him every day since he's been in office, kicking out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning, excited to see what the day will bring, in old-fashioned striped pajamas of course. Or "fierce pajamas," if you are of the New Yorker persuasion. (Fierce Pajamas is the name of an anthology of humor from the New Yorker magazine. Not funny? OK, pretend I didn't say anything.)
Our president has already demonstrated a commitment to clean, green energy and environmental causes, but more is always better! And innovation cannot come soon enough. Sleep tight Mr. President, you have a big day tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. . .
An informative article on the background of three of the women who will be actively involved in heading up the Obama administration's green tech, job stimulus, and environmental actions can be found at-
http://seekingalpha.com/article/110449-obama-creates-an-energy-policy-troika
But more mass transit? Hip hip hooray!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
the (Temporary) Death of the McMansion?
This is a small thought, but hopefully a valid one.
As I walking home from work I pass by a two story building that is being constructed to house a new Remax office. It is definitely a testament to optimisim in these times, but perhaps the deals were already signed, labor paid for, and the owner thought it better just to go through with it then not. Walking past the future real estate office I considered that another potential blessing in disguise to this whole economic meltdown, as I have come to call it, (with my penchant for hyperbole firmly in place), is that we will, hopefully, see a reduction in big, ugly houses.
You know the ones that I'm talking about- the McMansions and the ungainly houses that pretend to display their girth as a desirable quality, not who the heck would want to live in such an ugly place?
I lived in Connecticut in the Simsbury-Avon region during the dot.com boom and it was odd to see the more modest Colonial-style salt boxes juxtaposed next to the nouveau riche mini mansions that sprouted up, which looked like saltboxes on steroids. Or the McMansions tried to imitate some Palladian style mansion of yore- the Villa Emo, etc., Feeble attempts were made at incorporating symmetry and classicism. But it was weird seeing literally flat columns pasted on houses that look like they were just there as a stab at credibility.
Even here in the town that I live in, which has modest economic incomes across the board, there have been numerous subdivisions that have sprung up with houses so monstrous and crammed so close together that I wonder if the neighbors literally know when you're taking a shower because they can see right in your window that's only two feet away from theirs. OK, the distance is probably slightly greater, but driving by it certainly doesn't look like it.
I also privately wonder who could afford to buy those houses since we only have one hospital in town = there are only so many doctors, but I guess our current economic state can tell me who- everybody who was trying to keep up with the Joneses, who in turn were trying to keep up with the Dr. McDreamy's.
While I wish that front porches, turrets, and real gables would make a comeback, I'm not militant about the subject. At the very least I would like to see houses that don't look like an intro course to Auto CAD come to life. There is one house in town that is so square that it's hard to tell where the front door is. I think it's the side that faces the street, but other days I'm not so sure. I'm equally committed to this concept in terms of public space as well. Not every place has to look like a Norman Rockwell, but I'd like it to not to resemble scenes out of Bladerunner either. I advocate places with a mix of architectural styles, with lots of green space, and of course many access points to mass transit!
(more thoughts on whose fault it is that we have a low-density auto-dependent society it really is/ a review of the premise of Jonathan Levine's work, Zoned Out: Regulation, Markets, and Choices in Transportation and Metropolitan Land Use coming up)
My reasoning not only is aesthetic, it's also environmentally based. Bigger places consume more resources and use more energy. This is kind of a duh point- your office building's A/C bill is (hopefully) higher than your house's. But a 500,000 sq. ft. house consumes more resources and emits more waste than say a 5,000 sq. ft. house. I'm not saying we should all live in hobbit houses and cram ourselves into shoebox sized spaces. But how badly does one need that house on the hill? versus how badly do we need a healthy planet?
(I try to reduce my carbon footprint by not turning on my A/C for the past two consecutive summers. Highly unadvisable. I was just cranky and probably alienated people with both my attitude and general sweatiness. Solution: only turn on A/C when absolutely necessary, fans are quite lovely, and find other ways to reduce your footprint, by say, driving less and using CFLs. Not perfect, but significantly less sticky)
And for more thoughts on houses that feel instinctively "right" versus those that just feel "off" I highly recommend Jonathan Hale's work, The Old Way of Seeing: How Architecture Lost Its Magic (And How to Get It Back)
As I walking home from work I pass by a two story building that is being constructed to house a new Remax office. It is definitely a testament to optimisim in these times, but perhaps the deals were already signed, labor paid for, and the owner thought it better just to go through with it then not. Walking past the future real estate office I considered that another potential blessing in disguise to this whole economic meltdown, as I have come to call it, (with my penchant for hyperbole firmly in place), is that we will, hopefully, see a reduction in big, ugly houses.
You know the ones that I'm talking about- the McMansions and the ungainly houses that pretend to display their girth as a desirable quality, not who the heck would want to live in such an ugly place?
I lived in Connecticut in the Simsbury-Avon region during the dot.com boom and it was odd to see the more modest Colonial-style salt boxes juxtaposed next to the nouveau riche mini mansions that sprouted up, which looked like saltboxes on steroids. Or the McMansions tried to imitate some Palladian style mansion of yore- the Villa Emo, etc., Feeble attempts were made at incorporating symmetry and classicism. But it was weird seeing literally flat columns pasted on houses that look like they were just there as a stab at credibility.
Even here in the town that I live in, which has modest economic incomes across the board, there have been numerous subdivisions that have sprung up with houses so monstrous and crammed so close together that I wonder if the neighbors literally know when you're taking a shower because they can see right in your window that's only two feet away from theirs. OK, the distance is probably slightly greater, but driving by it certainly doesn't look like it.
I also privately wonder who could afford to buy those houses since we only have one hospital in town = there are only so many doctors, but I guess our current economic state can tell me who- everybody who was trying to keep up with the Joneses, who in turn were trying to keep up with the Dr. McDreamy's.
While I wish that front porches, turrets, and real gables would make a comeback, I'm not militant about the subject. At the very least I would like to see houses that don't look like an intro course to Auto CAD come to life. There is one house in town that is so square that it's hard to tell where the front door is. I think it's the side that faces the street, but other days I'm not so sure. I'm equally committed to this concept in terms of public space as well. Not every place has to look like a Norman Rockwell, but I'd like it to not to resemble scenes out of Bladerunner either. I advocate places with a mix of architectural styles, with lots of green space, and of course many access points to mass transit!
(more thoughts on whose fault it is that we have a low-density auto-dependent society it really is/ a review of the premise of Jonathan Levine's work, Zoned Out: Regulation, Markets, and Choices in Transportation and Metropolitan Land Use coming up)
My reasoning not only is aesthetic, it's also environmentally based. Bigger places consume more resources and use more energy. This is kind of a duh point- your office building's A/C bill is (hopefully) higher than your house's. But a 500,000 sq. ft. house consumes more resources and emits more waste than say a 5,000 sq. ft. house. I'm not saying we should all live in hobbit houses and cram ourselves into shoebox sized spaces. But how badly does one need that house on the hill? versus how badly do we need a healthy planet?
(I try to reduce my carbon footprint by not turning on my A/C for the past two consecutive summers. Highly unadvisable. I was just cranky and probably alienated people with both my attitude and general sweatiness. Solution: only turn on A/C when absolutely necessary, fans are quite lovely, and find other ways to reduce your footprint, by say, driving less and using CFLs. Not perfect, but significantly less sticky)
And for more thoughts on houses that feel instinctively "right" versus those that just feel "off" I highly recommend Jonathan Hale's work, The Old Way of Seeing: How Architecture Lost Its Magic (And How to Get It Back)
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Hardship = opportunity
Welcome to 2009. Time for a new president, the reality of predatory loaning and credit defaulting- ouch, a war that may, or may not get resolved by this time next year, mass layoffs, and general belt-tightening.
This is far from good news, but it has given me pause to consider all of the implications.
For a while I considered posting a rant about how it's stupid people who insist on living beyond their means and buying houses that they can't afford while literally walking away from their current homes that got us into this mess. I would also pontificate by saying that anyone with a brain in their head would also read Panic! the Story of Modern Financial Insanity by Michael Lewis if they knew what was good for them.
But then I took a step back and did some more research instead of just being all self-righteous.
"If you don't like it Stewie, you can do what everybody else does and go on the Internet and complain." -Brian, Family Guy
And I realized that there is a lot of blame, but it can be spread out a lot of places. I also saw the reviews of Mr. Lewis's book on amazon.com and they weren't all that great. So, save your money.
Instead, please seek out the absolutely fantastic article, "Um, What Just Happened?" by Richard Medley, Esquire December 2008. I seriously cannot tell you how incredibly illuminating Mr. Medley's article was on breaking down how we (America and the world) got into this giant financial pickle and the potential ways of digging ourselves out. It's entitled, "The End of America’s Capitalist Fantasy and the Shape of Banks to Come" on Esquire's Web site.
http://www.esquire.com/features/green/features-why-is-our-economy-in-a-recession-1208?click=main_sr
I pretend to have a good grasp on international financial matters. When it comes up in conversation, I can roughly translate the exchange rate between the British pound, the euro, and the American dollar. And I would nod my head at all the right places when my friend brought up the Nikkei index in relation to her stocks' performance.
But like the war in Iraq, our current economic state has a lot of controversy surrounding it, though on an admittedly smaller scale, but equally plagued with tons of opinions masquerading as fact and jargon that I just don't want to wrap my brain around. So, do yourself a favor and read Mr. Medley's article. (I am also going to see how many times I can insert the words "Mr. Medley" into this blog before someone notices.)
In the meantime, also consider the good, yes good! that can, has come, will come out of this sorry state we find ourselves in.
As I was pondering this topic I realized that this "situation" makes us take stock and really look around and consider what are we doing- with ourselves? our lives? our priorities!?
Yes, we may not get a glut of new shopping malls, bistros, and boutiques anytime in the near future. Heck, Starbucks might not even gain back their market shares for at least several years. But in the end, do we really need such things? Yes, they are great for urban revival yet they also foster our desire for stuff, of which we all have more than plenty. And this is coming from someone who has a business plan for an art gallery wedged in her file box and actively seeks out the "artsy" section of any town she's visiting so she can load up on sun-dried tomato pasta and handcrafted hot ciders.
But we are stepping back and evaluating actual relationships and what really matters in life. With mass layoffs happening at frightening speeds, it makes us stop to look around and say, "Hey, I see you as a person and you know what? I value you as a person too." even as the rafters fall around our ears. We have an opportunity to reach out and help some one. Maybe we really can continue that "Christmas feeling" throughout the whole year, though in ways we may not have considered a few holiday seasons ago.
Several of my favorite magazines, including GQ and Esquire, purveyors of the finer things in life are also stepping back and offering thoughtful articles instead of how to find the best tailor in London, the latest fine dining trend, the newest hot but "brain-y" female celebrity, etc., Recent articles have included the tongue-in-cheek "Things We're Excited About" by Tom Chiarella, Esquire, February 2009, What I've Learned the (stock market) Bull, Esquire January 2009, 50 Reasons to Have (Actual) (Legitimate) (Genuine) Hope, GQ February 2009, "Congratulations, You Have Not Been Fired!" by Joshua Ferris, GQ, February 2009, and the quietly devastating "What Happened to the Neighbors?" by Charles Bowden, GQ, January 2009.
In the end, we all look around with sheepish smiles as we put back that shiny bauble at Target and consider, is this what it's all about?
This is far from good news, but it has given me pause to consider all of the implications.
For a while I considered posting a rant about how it's stupid people who insist on living beyond their means and buying houses that they can't afford while literally walking away from their current homes that got us into this mess. I would also pontificate by saying that anyone with a brain in their head would also read Panic! the Story of Modern Financial Insanity by Michael Lewis if they knew what was good for them.
But then I took a step back and did some more research instead of just being all self-righteous.
"If you don't like it Stewie, you can do what everybody else does and go on the Internet and complain." -Brian, Family Guy
And I realized that there is a lot of blame, but it can be spread out a lot of places. I also saw the reviews of Mr. Lewis's book on amazon.com and they weren't all that great. So, save your money.
Instead, please seek out the absolutely fantastic article, "Um, What Just Happened?" by Richard Medley, Esquire December 2008. I seriously cannot tell you how incredibly illuminating Mr. Medley's article was on breaking down how we (America and the world) got into this giant financial pickle and the potential ways of digging ourselves out. It's entitled, "The End of America’s Capitalist Fantasy and the Shape of Banks to Come" on Esquire's Web site.
http://www.esquire.com/features/green/features-why-is-our-economy-in-a-recession-1208?click=main_sr
I pretend to have a good grasp on international financial matters. When it comes up in conversation, I can roughly translate the exchange rate between the British pound, the euro, and the American dollar. And I would nod my head at all the right places when my friend brought up the Nikkei index in relation to her stocks' performance.
But like the war in Iraq, our current economic state has a lot of controversy surrounding it, though on an admittedly smaller scale, but equally plagued with tons of opinions masquerading as fact and jargon that I just don't want to wrap my brain around. So, do yourself a favor and read Mr. Medley's article. (I am also going to see how many times I can insert the words "Mr. Medley" into this blog before someone notices.)
In the meantime, also consider the good, yes good! that can, has come, will come out of this sorry state we find ourselves in.
As I was pondering this topic I realized that this "situation" makes us take stock and really look around and consider what are we doing- with ourselves? our lives? our priorities!?
Yes, we may not get a glut of new shopping malls, bistros, and boutiques anytime in the near future. Heck, Starbucks might not even gain back their market shares for at least several years. But in the end, do we really need such things? Yes, they are great for urban revival yet they also foster our desire for stuff, of which we all have more than plenty. And this is coming from someone who has a business plan for an art gallery wedged in her file box and actively seeks out the "artsy" section of any town she's visiting so she can load up on sun-dried tomato pasta and handcrafted hot ciders.
But we are stepping back and evaluating actual relationships and what really matters in life. With mass layoffs happening at frightening speeds, it makes us stop to look around and say, "Hey, I see you as a person and you know what? I value you as a person too." even as the rafters fall around our ears. We have an opportunity to reach out and help some one. Maybe we really can continue that "Christmas feeling" throughout the whole year, though in ways we may not have considered a few holiday seasons ago.
Several of my favorite magazines, including GQ and Esquire, purveyors of the finer things in life are also stepping back and offering thoughtful articles instead of how to find the best tailor in London, the latest fine dining trend, the newest hot but "brain-y" female celebrity, etc., Recent articles have included the tongue-in-cheek "Things We're Excited About" by Tom Chiarella, Esquire, February 2009, What I've Learned the (stock market) Bull, Esquire January 2009, 50 Reasons to Have (Actual) (Legitimate) (Genuine) Hope, GQ February 2009, "Congratulations, You Have Not Been Fired!" by Joshua Ferris, GQ, February 2009, and the quietly devastating "What Happened to the Neighbors?" by Charles Bowden, GQ, January 2009.
In the end, we all look around with sheepish smiles as we put back that shiny bauble at Target and consider, is this what it's all about?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Overthinking
I haven't posted anything in a while, which, ironically, has given me great cause for anxiety. I hold my blog in somewhat high regard and don't feel that the world is exactly chomping at the bit to know what I had for lunch or what music I'm listening to at any given point. For those who are curious it was spaghetti and Franz Ferdinand's You Could Have It So Much Better :-) I prefer to blog solely about topics that are related to urban planning, but lately the muse has been fleeting.
For whatever reason there hasn't been much on my mind that I felt like blogging about. And the more I thought about what I wanted to blog about, the less and less came to mind.
For a while I even despaired, thinking, incorrectly, that I had covered every topic worth writing about within the realm of urban planning! Ah, hubris, you are a seductive, though misleading siren.
Have no fear faithful reader, whomever you may be, I do have some topics floating around in my (slightly dented) cranium- the role of architecture in our society, skate punks, etc., But like a good red wine, they require a little aging before being savored.
However, I have been thinking about what compels us to stay or go in a place. I had remarked a little bit on this in my January 4th, 2009 posting, Home is Where the Heart Is?
But the thoughts continued during a conversation with my friend, who I had mentioned in the aforementioned post, had moved up to Boston after abruptly leaving Savannah. Although she still is enraptured by the (forgotten) possibilities that come with a big city, she sometimes feels a pang for the little conveniences that Savannah afforded her. Minute, little, inconsequential details like the fact that her Best Buy was open until 11 PM. The one closest to her in Boston closes at 9 PM. Or that she used to be within walking distance of her local grocery store- the big kind, not the little get-n-go corner store. Now it is a train ride away, which makes loading up a challenge. She wondered when these thoughts would go away.
I, all too keenly, know what she meant. I graduated from college in Savannah, kicked around town for a few months while eagerly sending out resumes and waiting for responses. When I did not receive any replies at the companies I hoped to work at, my parents decided that it would cheaper for me to live at their house in Wisconsin then continue to pay my rent in Savannah, where there are not a lot of opportunities within the fine art insurance field, my chosen field. So, I moved back in with my parents, while pining for my college town.
Ironically, at the same time, when I left Savannah I had grown slightly tired of the city. Don't get me wrong, I love Savannah itself. It is beautiful, it has heartbreakingly gorgeous architecture, the city's Jewel Plan, with its unique squares, each with their own little park, a microcosm unto itself is fantastic. But everything kindof grinds to a halt at 6 PM. Not 9, not 11, 6. There are bars, good bars, heck, great bars to be enjoyed. However, that's about it.
If one is a student at SCAD, you often spends your evening's crouched on the floor of your apartment or dorm feverishly gluing together scraps of toothpicks and Bristol board for some lame project that you will probably trash as soon as the class is over. But in that moment it means the world to you and Heaven help anyone that stands in your way or tries to persuade you otherwise.
This actually applies to all majors at SCAD, even the fashion and historic preservation majors as we are all subjected to the horrors of 3-D design class, which, regardless of the professor, make us construct bizarre little sculpture-like projects in order to understand form, volume, etc., This lesson plan in itself is not bad. It's just the materials that they make you use has one question the validity of such an expenditure. That which separates us from the kindergartners who build birdcages from Popsicle sticks is a $2,000 price tag per class. To their credit, SCAD does make us use more classically traditional 3-D materials as well, but lugging around a 20 lb. block of aerated concrete in the Southern heat does not exactly inspire visions worthy of Michelangelo.
As I was an art history major I had relatively few classes that were studio-based, which afforded me exorbitant amounts of free time in the evenings, much to my roommate, the interior design major's chagrin. So, like many red-blooded college co-ed's I spent my meager paycheck at B&B, or watching movies in our apartment, while pretending that White Chicks was for my History of Film class or something equally erudite, as my roommate tried not to cut off her finger cutting endless sheets of foam-core with her xacto knife.
But I pined for those nights at B&B and days sitting in the squares, soaking up the Southern sun, as I sat in my room in New Berlin, WI, a modest suburb of Milwaukee, as I drafted yet another sincere cover letter to a farway company in New York City. I missed stupid stuff like the throngs of tourists that flocked to the Riverwalk. I missed homeless people that sat in Forsyth Park and the over-privileged, entitled freshman who strutted around like they were going to be the next Picasso or Miuccia Prada.
Time wore on, and eventually I moved to Chicago and forgot about the specifics of Savannah that made my heart yearn.
The character, Lillith on the season finale of Frasier astutely observed that "with one hand the past holds us back and with the other it pulls us forward." I have found that very true.
We are all the end product of the sum of our parts, be they good, be they bad, regrettable, or vindicating. And as we settle into new chapters in our lives, we often experience a longing for what we have just left, even if it did not always give us pleasure. Sometimes the fact that it just was, and could be counted on to be, creates an unexpected ache. I suspect that we are creatures of habit, and within familiarity lies comfort. Then again, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Therefore, there is no shame in looking back, as long as you do not lose sight of what lies ahead of you as well.
For whatever reason there hasn't been much on my mind that I felt like blogging about. And the more I thought about what I wanted to blog about, the less and less came to mind.
For a while I even despaired, thinking, incorrectly, that I had covered every topic worth writing about within the realm of urban planning! Ah, hubris, you are a seductive, though misleading siren.
Have no fear faithful reader, whomever you may be, I do have some topics floating around in my (slightly dented) cranium- the role of architecture in our society, skate punks, etc., But like a good red wine, they require a little aging before being savored.
However, I have been thinking about what compels us to stay or go in a place. I had remarked a little bit on this in my January 4th, 2009 posting, Home is Where the Heart Is?
But the thoughts continued during a conversation with my friend, who I had mentioned in the aforementioned post, had moved up to Boston after abruptly leaving Savannah. Although she still is enraptured by the (forgotten) possibilities that come with a big city, she sometimes feels a pang for the little conveniences that Savannah afforded her. Minute, little, inconsequential details like the fact that her Best Buy was open until 11 PM. The one closest to her in Boston closes at 9 PM. Or that she used to be within walking distance of her local grocery store- the big kind, not the little get-n-go corner store. Now it is a train ride away, which makes loading up a challenge. She wondered when these thoughts would go away.
I, all too keenly, know what she meant. I graduated from college in Savannah, kicked around town for a few months while eagerly sending out resumes and waiting for responses. When I did not receive any replies at the companies I hoped to work at, my parents decided that it would cheaper for me to live at their house in Wisconsin then continue to pay my rent in Savannah, where there are not a lot of opportunities within the fine art insurance field, my chosen field. So, I moved back in with my parents, while pining for my college town.
Ironically, at the same time, when I left Savannah I had grown slightly tired of the city. Don't get me wrong, I love Savannah itself. It is beautiful, it has heartbreakingly gorgeous architecture, the city's Jewel Plan, with its unique squares, each with their own little park, a microcosm unto itself is fantastic. But everything kindof grinds to a halt at 6 PM. Not 9, not 11, 6. There are bars, good bars, heck, great bars to be enjoyed. However, that's about it.
If one is a student at SCAD, you often spends your evening's crouched on the floor of your apartment or dorm feverishly gluing together scraps of toothpicks and Bristol board for some lame project that you will probably trash as soon as the class is over. But in that moment it means the world to you and Heaven help anyone that stands in your way or tries to persuade you otherwise.
This actually applies to all majors at SCAD, even the fashion and historic preservation majors as we are all subjected to the horrors of 3-D design class, which, regardless of the professor, make us construct bizarre little sculpture-like projects in order to understand form, volume, etc., This lesson plan in itself is not bad. It's just the materials that they make you use has one question the validity of such an expenditure. That which separates us from the kindergartners who build birdcages from Popsicle sticks is a $2,000 price tag per class. To their credit, SCAD does make us use more classically traditional 3-D materials as well, but lugging around a 20 lb. block of aerated concrete in the Southern heat does not exactly inspire visions worthy of Michelangelo.
As I was an art history major I had relatively few classes that were studio-based, which afforded me exorbitant amounts of free time in the evenings, much to my roommate, the interior design major's chagrin. So, like many red-blooded college co-ed's I spent my meager paycheck at B&B, or watching movies in our apartment, while pretending that White Chicks was for my History of Film class or something equally erudite, as my roommate tried not to cut off her finger cutting endless sheets of foam-core with her xacto knife.
But I pined for those nights at B&B and days sitting in the squares, soaking up the Southern sun, as I sat in my room in New Berlin, WI, a modest suburb of Milwaukee, as I drafted yet another sincere cover letter to a farway company in New York City. I missed stupid stuff like the throngs of tourists that flocked to the Riverwalk. I missed homeless people that sat in Forsyth Park and the over-privileged, entitled freshman who strutted around like they were going to be the next Picasso or Miuccia Prada.
Time wore on, and eventually I moved to Chicago and forgot about the specifics of Savannah that made my heart yearn.
The character, Lillith on the season finale of Frasier astutely observed that "with one hand the past holds us back and with the other it pulls us forward." I have found that very true.
We are all the end product of the sum of our parts, be they good, be they bad, regrettable, or vindicating. And as we settle into new chapters in our lives, we often experience a longing for what we have just left, even if it did not always give us pleasure. Sometimes the fact that it just was, and could be counted on to be, creates an unexpected ache. I suspect that we are creatures of habit, and within familiarity lies comfort. Then again, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Therefore, there is no shame in looking back, as long as you do not lose sight of what lies ahead of you as well.
How to Survive a Heart Attack
OK, if you want to survive a real heart attack, exercise, eat a diet low in saturated fats, floss often, and take a baby aspirin every day, if approved by your doctor.
For me, this is how I weather a myocardial infarction- which is what your doctor would call a heart attack- I was checking my e-mail one night and received a message from University X saying that my application was incomplete as they had not received my letters of recommendation nor my transcripts. I learned this on the day of the deadline for consideration for scholarships at Universtiy X. Not great. This was also a shock because I'd send out the aforementioned materials a week earlier, in my naivete, trusting that institution that is the United States Postal system.
I called the admissions department of University X the next day and spoke to an angel in human form, who was very reassuring saying that they are still going through their mail. While I'm not sure how this reflects on my chances of getting in, at least it means that the postal system may not have royally screwed up and my forlorn little package may be at the bottom of a monolithic pile.
But lesson learned, when in doubt, send it certified! That way there is some accountability in this universe! Or at least in the postal system. Let this be a lesson to anyone considering applying for grad school ever in the future. Do as I say not as I do.
For me, this is how I weather a myocardial infarction- which is what your doctor would call a heart attack- I was checking my e-mail one night and received a message from University X saying that my application was incomplete as they had not received my letters of recommendation nor my transcripts. I learned this on the day of the deadline for consideration for scholarships at Universtiy X. Not great. This was also a shock because I'd send out the aforementioned materials a week earlier, in my naivete, trusting that institution that is the United States Postal system.
I called the admissions department of University X the next day and spoke to an angel in human form, who was very reassuring saying that they are still going through their mail. While I'm not sure how this reflects on my chances of getting in, at least it means that the postal system may not have royally screwed up and my forlorn little package may be at the bottom of a monolithic pile.
But lesson learned, when in doubt, send it certified! That way there is some accountability in this universe! Or at least in the postal system. Let this be a lesson to anyone considering applying for grad school ever in the future. Do as I say not as I do.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
It Must Be Easier to Get Into the C.I.A. Than It Is to Get Into Grad School
Sorry, my last two blogs were so long that I thought I'd split it up a bit and provide you with some pretty pictures of my spiritual home, Rome (prior post) and a quick glimpse into how incredibly time-consuming it is to get into grad school.
It is kind of funny that I am applying to grad school since, when I graduated from college- ugh 4-!? years ago I never wanted to pursue higher education again. My thesis had officially fried my will to live or learn ever again.
But then plans to implement my undergrad degree didn't work out as hoped and I discovered urban planning and I had to get in on the action! Unfortunately, I didn't know as a high schooler that urban planning even existed, so here I am applying to grad school, which is infinitely more complicated than applying to undergrad was.
Of course, I opted for the undergrad school that didn't require a portfolio review and and as long as your SAT score was higher than that of a toaster oven, you were pretty much guaranteed admission.
It's terribly, terribly ironic that if I know I have something huge that will require a LOT of time and effort, I try to map it out to the last detail. Grad school is no cake walk and can't just be done on a whim. Unfortunately, there are a lot of unexpected twists and turns in this road as well.
You have to know where you want to apply to.
You have to take the GRE several months in advance cuz you need your scores for your application package.
You have to study for the GRE, including a LOT of remedial math, which I had conveniently forgotten.
You have to write to all those nice people who will be writing you letters of recommendation (LOR)and refresh their memories why you are awesome and should go to X school.
Allow plenty of time for this so that they have plenty of time to sit down and write you those glowing letters. Badgering them at the last minute is highly underadvised.
You need to procure lots of monies for application fees. Ick.
You need to request your transcripts, something that considering I gave my alma mater over $100K and probably 4 oz. of my soul I should get those transcripts for free. Haha. No.
You need to check the school's deadlines if you want to be considered for scholarships. Always a plus.
You then need to freak out when you realize that one school's deadline is a full month earlier than the other schools and you really need those LORs. Now!
Subsequently, you need to freak out, having not perused the school's application Web site with a fine-tooth comb, you did not realize that the LOR needs to be accompanied by the school's specific cover letter-like thing, which of course you didn't send to the writers. Immediately fill out, print, and mail while simultaneously banging out rapid-fire e-mails alerting your letter writers of this impending and extremely important piece of mail.
Later, you need to send your very nice LOR back to its writer because it wasn't in a sealed envelope and the school will not take it.
You need to stare at your computer screen until drops of blood spontaneously form on your forehead due to such intense stress that the capillaries burst as you try to write a heartfelt statement of purpose that does not make you come off sounding like a pompous ass or arrogant blowhard, but a sincere and genuine student of learning without sounding like a total suck-up either.
When this is all over you need to buy yourself the best single-malt scotch you can afford while you wait to hear back from the schools who have your destiny in their hands. Avoid consuming the contents of the entire bottle in one sitting, unless it came from a mini-bar.
To know what it's really like to try to get into the real C.I.A. read Blowing My Cover: my Life as a C.I.A. Spy by Lindsay Moran. Pretty good stuff. Not mind-blowing great. But good.
It is kind of funny that I am applying to grad school since, when I graduated from college- ugh 4-!? years ago I never wanted to pursue higher education again. My thesis had officially fried my will to live or learn ever again.
But then plans to implement my undergrad degree didn't work out as hoped and I discovered urban planning and I had to get in on the action! Unfortunately, I didn't know as a high schooler that urban planning even existed, so here I am applying to grad school, which is infinitely more complicated than applying to undergrad was.
Of course, I opted for the undergrad school that didn't require a portfolio review and and as long as your SAT score was higher than that of a toaster oven, you were pretty much guaranteed admission.
It's terribly, terribly ironic that if I know I have something huge that will require a LOT of time and effort, I try to map it out to the last detail. Grad school is no cake walk and can't just be done on a whim. Unfortunately, there are a lot of unexpected twists and turns in this road as well.
You have to know where you want to apply to.
You have to take the GRE several months in advance cuz you need your scores for your application package.
You have to study for the GRE, including a LOT of remedial math, which I had conveniently forgotten.
You have to write to all those nice people who will be writing you letters of recommendation (LOR)and refresh their memories why you are awesome and should go to X school.
Allow plenty of time for this so that they have plenty of time to sit down and write you those glowing letters. Badgering them at the last minute is highly underadvised.
You need to procure lots of monies for application fees. Ick.
You need to request your transcripts, something that considering I gave my alma mater over $100K and probably 4 oz. of my soul I should get those transcripts for free. Haha. No.
You need to check the school's deadlines if you want to be considered for scholarships. Always a plus.
You then need to freak out when you realize that one school's deadline is a full month earlier than the other schools and you really need those LORs. Now!
Subsequently, you need to freak out, having not perused the school's application Web site with a fine-tooth comb, you did not realize that the LOR needs to be accompanied by the school's specific cover letter-like thing, which of course you didn't send to the writers. Immediately fill out, print, and mail while simultaneously banging out rapid-fire e-mails alerting your letter writers of this impending and extremely important piece of mail.
Later, you need to send your very nice LOR back to its writer because it wasn't in a sealed envelope and the school will not take it.
You need to stare at your computer screen until drops of blood spontaneously form on your forehead due to such intense stress that the capillaries burst as you try to write a heartfelt statement of purpose that does not make you come off sounding like a pompous ass or arrogant blowhard, but a sincere and genuine student of learning without sounding like a total suck-up either.
When this is all over you need to buy yourself the best single-malt scotch you can afford while you wait to hear back from the schools who have your destiny in their hands. Avoid consuming the contents of the entire bottle in one sitting, unless it came from a mini-bar.
To know what it's really like to try to get into the real C.I.A. read Blowing My Cover: my Life as a C.I.A. Spy by Lindsay Moran. Pretty good stuff. Not mind-blowing great. But good.
Home Away From Home
Sorry, I forgot. I do know where my home is. It's just so expensive to get there :-) And yes, I did take all of these pictures. And no, none of them are Photoshop'ed. I am terrible at Photoshop.
Every time I go to Roma something is always under construction, this time, in the first picture, way in the back it is to Vittorio Emmanuel, aka, "the wedding cake" -the Romans' words, not mine. But you'd have to see it, to believe. And when you do, you'd concede that they have a point.
Home is Where the Heart Is?
I try to keep my postings academic in nature, but I've been thinking about what is "home" and where is home a lot lately, a subject that is more personal than professional. Permit me, if you will, a rumination.I recently returned from Minnesota, where my parents' current home is, land of ice, snow, and inhumane temperatures. It is not "my" home as my parents only moved there a year and I'm not sure they'd enthusiastically declare it as their home either.
As I mentioned in an earlier posting I've lived in 11 places in 25 years. The majority of the time was spent growing up in Wisconsin, a short stint was in the central valley of California- between Fresno and Bakersfield, you know the (soon-to-be-voluntarily-retired) actor Joaquin Phoenix? I'm in/was in the San Joaquin Valley. I graduated from high school in Connecticuit, went to art school in Savannah, Georgia and flew to Milwaukee when school wasn't in session. I've lived in Chicago proper and Naperville, IL, a white collar suburb of Chicago. I've got my sights set on L.A. for more schooling and hopefully an eventual career. Hello Santa Monica, do you foresee an entry-level planning position in two years?
There is a saying that says home is where the heart is. I'm not sure where my heart is.
I was thinking specifically of this metaphorical heart because one of my dearest friends, after an incredibly long and drama-filled 5 year relationship decided that her heart was no longer in Savannah, GA, where we had gone to school together. She is originally from San Francisco and had considered moving to Philadelphia, but had stayed because her boyfriend was in Savannah and he was unenthusiastic about leaving for greener pastures. But then things reached an impass in their relationship and she realized that nothing was anchoring her to Savannah. So, she packed up and legged it to Boston to stay with a friend while she sorts things out.
As I was talking to her it was 23 degrees in Boston, but she sounded exhilirated. She had forgotten that so many cities have more than two movie theaters that show more than just the latest offering from Disney, diversity and culture around every corner, and there are street vendors- sorry no roach coaches in Savannah, though they'd probably make a killing with all of the hungry and harried college students rushing about on Broughton and Bull Streets.
My friend is literally one of the smartest and cultured people that I will ever meet and I'm not implying that Savannah made her stupid. But living in one place for a long time can procur a certain kind of amnesia. One can forget what the rest of the world looks like, which is a shame because there is so much that this world has to offer.
I used to consider it some sort of cosmic injustice that I constantly had to move, but now I see it as a blessing. I've had the opportunity to live in some parts of the U.S. some other people may never even get to visit in their lifetimes
But during the holidays, driving through the cozy-and-a-little-dowdy Midwest brought about a pang for me as I looked upon the rather plain but familiar ranch, Cape Cod, and salt box houses in white or beige with brown, black or green trim that populated the streets and the memories of my childhood. There were a few forlorn Spanish revival houses on my parents' block, looking like displaced transplants from California, but mainly there were small houses of modest proportions with equally modest trim.
And for a moment I wondered what I was doing on the West Coast hundreds of miles from family, a question numerous strangers have asked me. Why shouldn't I move back to these familiar sights and just, I don't know?! teach elementary art as I had considered doing in high school.
Then, after a sub-zero wind chill hit me and almost sucked the air out of my lungs I realized why. Because I dreamed of moving (back) to California. I wanted to go to grad school in L.A. and see what urban planning is like down there and now I am on my way to accomplishing this.
It may not be home, but it's definitely a place I want to get to know better, on my terms. The last time we were here I was in the 4th grade and we had come because my dad's company was attempting to start up another branch in the town we lived in.
I will probably never move back to the East Coast, above the Mason-Dixon line. The outlook and lifestyle aren't in sync with mine. Yet many people can't imagine living anywhere else. But if my friend settles into a life in Boston I will gladly visit her and the new life she may carve out there. She has too many memories of San Francisco and feels that she's experienced all that she wants to experience in the City By the Bay.
A few years ago I had considered moving back to Savannah as it was safe and familiar and frankly life after college is usually anything but. However, my friend was the last person from school that lived there and with her gone there is nothing left except the bars we frequented.
I'd lived in Milwaukee twice, in two different suburbs, but the first time I was so little I don't remember many specifics and the second time as a displaced college student, having moved there two days after high school graduation (from CT- keep up people!), it never felt like home. And the frigid temperatures didn't encourage that I stay.
Given the right mix of opportunities I may move back to Chicago some day, but over my dead body will you find me in Naperville again. Though I highly recommend it for the people looking to raise their kids in a safe town with excellent schools, at the time I was there I was single and childless, not exactly a hotbed of action for a twentysomething.
I've come to learn, there is very few things that are truly certain in life. It is not certain that I will get married, it is not certain that I will have children. There are no guarantees that I will leave this planet without a cancer cell ever marring my body or even depart with all of the limbs that I came into this world with. But that's OK.
A wise person once observed that "life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived." So even if I had a pair of ruby-red slippers to click and whisper, "there's no place like home" it's unlikely I'd wind up in one specific place. And I think I'm learning to be OK with that.
John Steinbeck once said, "I have homes everywhere, many of which I have not seen yet. That is perhaps why I am restless. I haven't seen all my homes."
Perhaps that is why I too am restless.
ps- the girl in the picture is neither me nor my friend from Savannah. But she is my bestest friend.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Architecture or Revolution?
Warning: a crash course on the sorry current state of affairs in architecture. Read on if you know, or want to know who Frank Gehry is, and does he suck or not?
One of my favorite magazines, Esquire, published a thought provoking article in their December 2008 issue entitled, "Burying Frank Gehry" by Mr. Scott Raab, one of my favorite contributors at the publication. The article focused on Joshua Prince-Ramus, the president and principal at Rex, a New York City-based architecture and design firm http://www.rex-ny.com/ and his counter-intuitive approach to architecture, that frankly shouldn't be so revolutionary.
In architecture it is a commonly held, though rarely voiced, thought that in order to be a famous architect one has to be over 50 and male. So as you're on your way out your star is rising.* For example, Frank Gehry will be 80 on February 28th. Santiagio Calatrava is 57, (58 on July 28th), and my personal favorite, Daniel Libeskind is 62 (63 on May 12th) and not just because he won the commission for the memorial for the World Trade Center Towers. But more gushing praise on him in another blog.
An exception to the rule is the exceptional Zaha Hadid, who, though she is 58 (59 on October 31st) is one of the most prolific female architects of our time. This is not to say that female architects do not exist, but none of them have the household name status that Ms. Hadid has earned, if your family is on a working knowledge of contemporary architecture. If not, consider this your new topic to introduce at the dinner table tonight. But be prepared for some blank stares.
* I am also kidding about the on the way out part of course, but by 55 isn't everyone eyeing that door that leads to retirement with just a little bit of longing? I'd hate to wait that long to get my dues.
Another rarely voiced though commonly held belief in the realm of architecture is that architects exist to project their "vision"on the unsuspecting, and probably ignorant world. This is all fine and good. Being an artist as well as a (future) planner I understand the need to express one's self creatively. But being an architect is not like being an artist, at least not in the traditional sense of the word.
An architect is also not a painter. This seems rather obvious. Yes, both possess an inner vision of their final creation. But it's a lot easier to shelve a painting that no one wants to buy versus a building that remains vacant because it just doesn't fit any client's needs and will take up a lot of valuable space.
An architect is also not a graphic designer. A graphic designer is given an idea or concept by a client and then given creative freedom to bring it to life and profit. Obviously, if the client hates what the designer comes up with, it's back to the drawing board or no paycheck. In theory, an architect collaborates with a client to marry a project that suits the client's needs coupled with the architect's personal take on what the building, etc., will look like. However, if the client is unhappy with the architect's drawings, theoretically, an architect will scrap it and start over until they have reached a mutual agreement.
An architect is not a photographer, an architect is not an illustrator, an architect is not a cartoonist, etc., Continuing my list by ticking off all of the other majors at my alma mater would risk turning this blog turning into an unpublished Dr. Seuss rhyme.
However, as the budding architects are sitting at their drafting desks, slaving away, feverishly gluing together bits of Bristol board and toothpicks, they are also having lies cooed in their ears like a faithless lover. "Don't forget that you're number one. ""The client is just ignorant.""Above all else, make sure it's what you want, not what they need."
As much as I am a proponent for artistic integrity and all that stuff, I cannot in good conscience advocate architects, planners, or any designer obstinately sticking to their creative "visions" when someone else is paying you.
Obviously, given the opportunity almost architect would like to be endowed with celebrity-like status and be given free will to design whatever the heck they want client needs be damned. Unfortunately, this is reality and such notions cannot plausibly exist.
This brings me to the article on Mr. Joshua Prince-Ramus. Mr. Prince-Ramus understands that architecture really boils down to no client = no work.
Yes it'd be nice to have clients come cowering and groveling to have one of your inspired visions hosue one of their lowly places of business. But it'd also be nice to build houses made of gingerbread and gumdrops and provide air conditioning to people in Third World countries without any impact on the environment.
Mr. Prince-Ramus is not some dour, unsuccessful architect who wants to spit in everyone else's drink. In fact, he is highly educated and highly successful. His undergrad was from Yale in philosophy and his Master's in Architecture is from Harvard. His firm has worked on the Guggenheim Las Vegas, (Gehry designed the Guggie in Bilbao, Spain) the U of L Business School, and the Seattle Library, among other impressive projects.
But he's also a realist who understands that there is a rift between form and function. The famous architect, Louis Sullivan, who brought us the earliest form of the skyscraper and mentor to Frank Lloyd Wright, once, "Form follows function."
Prince-Ramus says that, "Starting in the 1920s, the modernist agenda made a schism between form and function. Terrible idea- terrible for architects. [emphasis author's own] They sided with functionalism; they failed. Architects in their infinite wisdom didn't stitch them back together; we went all the way the other way, to formalism. And now we're at the height of a formalist agenda- total failure, terrible idea.
You need to heal two things as an architect. You need to heal form and function. It's a useless, irrelevant distinction. Form performs, function performs- forget about it [emphasis author's own] And you need to heal the whole concept of the design architect" -the sketching artiste- "and the executive architect. It's a totally unproductive distinction. You can't design without knowing schedules and contracts. You can't do schedules and contracts without knowing how to design.
If you can't design a great contract, it doesn't matter how good an idea you have- you won't build it. It's as simple as that. With this other schism, architects started to act more and more like artists- and to treat the business as beneath them. And I find that absolutely absurd. No wonder we're so impotent." -all quotes Joshua Prince-Ramus, from "Burying Frank Gehry" by Scott Raab, Esquire, December 2008, 144.
There is no room for ego in Prince-Ramus's world.
"Author a process; [emphasis author's own] if you author a process, you actually are losing control; you don't know what's gonna evolve. . .We don't care who authors something- if it's the most senior person on our team, a student who just came that morning, or the janitor. We don't care where the idea comes from. The ideas get torn apart, and the more interesting an idea, the more aggressive the tearing apart gets. Authoring a process is much more successful than authoring an object- regardless of the project. If you look at our work, you'll see an underlying current of thought, not an underlying current of architectural solutions." -Prince-Ramus, Esquire, 145.
Therefore, when people look upon one of Gehry's swirling, writhing sculptures of titanium, yes, titanium they want to see fingerprints of his genius. They want to see the vision bursting forth. However, the final vision may not always be what suits the client's needs.
To be fair, one of Gehry's works, the Pritzker Pavilion in Chicago on Michigan Avenue is one of the U.S.'s coolest outdoor venues.
The title of this blog comes from Le Corbusier, or Corb if you really want to sound in the know. He was born Charles-Edouard Jeanneret-Gris, one of the most influential architects of the twentieth century.
Corb was and is a visionary. The problem was that a lot of his visions weren't exactly grounded in practicality. He had an unwavering faith in technology, which proved to be more of a deterrent than a benefit.
For example, he designed a city center crammed full of skyscrapers with expressways that zoomed and wrapped themselves around the buildings, providing the sole source of transportation of peoples and goods and eclipsing the need for sidewalks.
It sounds rather Jetsons-like and kinda cool at first glance. The only problem is that if you take away the sidewalks, you also take away the potential for additional revenue to be generated by foot traffic, window shopping, etc., not to mention basic human interaction. The result is a mashup of Blade Runner and the Jetsons.
However, Corb was designing in the time when architects were trying to break free of the stuffy conventions set forth by Victorian architecture. He was a pioneer in the (now love it or hate it) International Style, you know those very era-specific buildings that sprung up in the 1960's and know look kind of weird and "dated" ?
And he said that we needed "architecture or revolution." So, why he may have been slightly left of center for his own ideas his belief still holds true.
One of my favorite magazines, Esquire, published a thought provoking article in their December 2008 issue entitled, "Burying Frank Gehry" by Mr. Scott Raab, one of my favorite contributors at the publication. The article focused on Joshua Prince-Ramus, the president and principal at Rex, a New York City-based architecture and design firm http://www.rex-ny.com/ and his counter-intuitive approach to architecture, that frankly shouldn't be so revolutionary.
In architecture it is a commonly held, though rarely voiced, thought that in order to be a famous architect one has to be over 50 and male. So as you're on your way out your star is rising.* For example, Frank Gehry will be 80 on February 28th. Santiagio Calatrava is 57, (58 on July 28th), and my personal favorite, Daniel Libeskind is 62 (63 on May 12th) and not just because he won the commission for the memorial for the World Trade Center Towers. But more gushing praise on him in another blog.
An exception to the rule is the exceptional Zaha Hadid, who, though she is 58 (59 on October 31st) is one of the most prolific female architects of our time. This is not to say that female architects do not exist, but none of them have the household name status that Ms. Hadid has earned, if your family is on a working knowledge of contemporary architecture. If not, consider this your new topic to introduce at the dinner table tonight. But be prepared for some blank stares.
* I am also kidding about the on the way out part of course, but by 55 isn't everyone eyeing that door that leads to retirement with just a little bit of longing? I'd hate to wait that long to get my dues.
Another rarely voiced though commonly held belief in the realm of architecture is that architects exist to project their "vision"on the unsuspecting, and probably ignorant world. This is all fine and good. Being an artist as well as a (future) planner I understand the need to express one's self creatively. But being an architect is not like being an artist, at least not in the traditional sense of the word.
An architect is also not a painter. This seems rather obvious. Yes, both possess an inner vision of their final creation. But it's a lot easier to shelve a painting that no one wants to buy versus a building that remains vacant because it just doesn't fit any client's needs and will take up a lot of valuable space.
An architect is also not a graphic designer. A graphic designer is given an idea or concept by a client and then given creative freedom to bring it to life and profit. Obviously, if the client hates what the designer comes up with, it's back to the drawing board or no paycheck. In theory, an architect collaborates with a client to marry a project that suits the client's needs coupled with the architect's personal take on what the building, etc., will look like. However, if the client is unhappy with the architect's drawings, theoretically, an architect will scrap it and start over until they have reached a mutual agreement.
An architect is not a photographer, an architect is not an illustrator, an architect is not a cartoonist, etc., Continuing my list by ticking off all of the other majors at my alma mater would risk turning this blog turning into an unpublished Dr. Seuss rhyme.
However, as the budding architects are sitting at their drafting desks, slaving away, feverishly gluing together bits of Bristol board and toothpicks, they are also having lies cooed in their ears like a faithless lover. "Don't forget that you're number one. ""The client is just ignorant.""Above all else, make sure it's what you want, not what they need."
As much as I am a proponent for artistic integrity and all that stuff, I cannot in good conscience advocate architects, planners, or any designer obstinately sticking to their creative "visions" when someone else is paying you.
Obviously, given the opportunity almost architect would like to be endowed with celebrity-like status and be given free will to design whatever the heck they want client needs be damned. Unfortunately, this is reality and such notions cannot plausibly exist.
This brings me to the article on Mr. Joshua Prince-Ramus. Mr. Prince-Ramus understands that architecture really boils down to no client = no work.
Yes it'd be nice to have clients come cowering and groveling to have one of your inspired visions hosue one of their lowly places of business. But it'd also be nice to build houses made of gingerbread and gumdrops and provide air conditioning to people in Third World countries without any impact on the environment.
Mr. Prince-Ramus is not some dour, unsuccessful architect who wants to spit in everyone else's drink. In fact, he is highly educated and highly successful. His undergrad was from Yale in philosophy and his Master's in Architecture is from Harvard. His firm has worked on the Guggenheim Las Vegas, (Gehry designed the Guggie in Bilbao, Spain) the U of L Business School, and the Seattle Library, among other impressive projects.
But he's also a realist who understands that there is a rift between form and function. The famous architect, Louis Sullivan, who brought us the earliest form of the skyscraper and mentor to Frank Lloyd Wright, once, "Form follows function."
Prince-Ramus says that, "Starting in the 1920s, the modernist agenda made a schism between form and function. Terrible idea- terrible for architects. [emphasis author's own] They sided with functionalism; they failed. Architects in their infinite wisdom didn't stitch them back together; we went all the way the other way, to formalism. And now we're at the height of a formalist agenda- total failure, terrible idea.
You need to heal two things as an architect. You need to heal form and function. It's a useless, irrelevant distinction. Form performs, function performs- forget about it [emphasis author's own] And you need to heal the whole concept of the design architect" -the sketching artiste- "and the executive architect. It's a totally unproductive distinction. You can't design without knowing schedules and contracts. You can't do schedules and contracts without knowing how to design.
If you can't design a great contract, it doesn't matter how good an idea you have- you won't build it. It's as simple as that. With this other schism, architects started to act more and more like artists- and to treat the business as beneath them. And I find that absolutely absurd. No wonder we're so impotent." -all quotes Joshua Prince-Ramus, from "Burying Frank Gehry" by Scott Raab, Esquire, December 2008, 144.
There is no room for ego in Prince-Ramus's world.
"Author a process; [emphasis author's own] if you author a process, you actually are losing control; you don't know what's gonna evolve. . .We don't care who authors something- if it's the most senior person on our team, a student who just came that morning, or the janitor. We don't care where the idea comes from. The ideas get torn apart, and the more interesting an idea, the more aggressive the tearing apart gets. Authoring a process is much more successful than authoring an object- regardless of the project. If you look at our work, you'll see an underlying current of thought, not an underlying current of architectural solutions." -Prince-Ramus, Esquire, 145.
Therefore, when people look upon one of Gehry's swirling, writhing sculptures of titanium, yes, titanium they want to see fingerprints of his genius. They want to see the vision bursting forth. However, the final vision may not always be what suits the client's needs.
To be fair, one of Gehry's works, the Pritzker Pavilion in Chicago on Michigan Avenue is one of the U.S.'s coolest outdoor venues.
The title of this blog comes from Le Corbusier, or Corb if you really want to sound in the know. He was born Charles-Edouard Jeanneret-Gris, one of the most influential architects of the twentieth century.
Corb was and is a visionary. The problem was that a lot of his visions weren't exactly grounded in practicality. He had an unwavering faith in technology, which proved to be more of a deterrent than a benefit.
For example, he designed a city center crammed full of skyscrapers with expressways that zoomed and wrapped themselves around the buildings, providing the sole source of transportation of peoples and goods and eclipsing the need for sidewalks.
It sounds rather Jetsons-like and kinda cool at first glance. The only problem is that if you take away the sidewalks, you also take away the potential for additional revenue to be generated by foot traffic, window shopping, etc., not to mention basic human interaction. The result is a mashup of Blade Runner and the Jetsons.
However, Corb was designing in the time when architects were trying to break free of the stuffy conventions set forth by Victorian architecture. He was a pioneer in the (now love it or hate it) International Style, you know those very era-specific buildings that sprung up in the 1960's and know look kind of weird and "dated" ?
And he said that we needed "architecture or revolution." So, why he may have been slightly left of center for his own ideas his belief still holds true.
In my lame attempt to join the 21st century I've included some pictures I took of some of the structural details from the Pritzker Pavilion, or how does a Gehry stay up. Enjoy!
Confessions of a Peeping Tommie
I have a confession to make. I like looking into other people's windows. Not with my nose pressed up against the glass, watching people conduct their private affairs, ew no.
But I enjoy observing interiors from the polite distance of the sidewalk, or as I drive by. I never linger, only glancing in communal living areas like living rooms or kitchens to see if kids are playing, hunched over their homework, or some one is tidying up for the night. Or perhaps the inhabitants are having family over that they have not seen in a while and the room is filled with laughter over shared memories or people are sitting down to a meal. But I'm always curious to see who lives in the house that I'm passing by and what are they doing at that moment, what part in the human drama is unfolding within those walls.
With the moving away from communal living- dwellings built on top of one another, crammed next to one another we have lost that connection with our fellow peoples- a common lament. But now we are shrouded in our individual homes, closed off, curtains drawn.
I guess that's why I like an open window. It says that you inherently trust the world and that you're not ashamed of what goes on inside, for it truly is a glimpse into your literal world.
I also love the lighting in interiors. It's usually warm and soft, often with a yellow tinge- especially in the Midwest. It's like a picture taken by a Kodak Brownie camera came to life.
I have lived in 11 places in 25 years. But one thing that has always remained constant is our (my family's) interior lighting. We don't use fancy pink lightbulbs, which apparently can help set the mood, :-) or anything exotic or unusual. Just basic 60 watt bulbs, then switching to CFL's, both of which impart a cozy glow. It's reassuring that no matter where I go, at the end of the day, I can turn on a light and sit in the reassuring glow of a reading lamp. I even snagged our old living room lamps when my parents decided to redecorate so I could continue to enjoy the effect.
Not really having a true place that I call home I guess I am an amateur sidewalk sociologist- trying to collect data without impacting the subject.
The New York Times put out an interesting article about the increasing trend of the upwardly mobile, who either by choice or their employer's decision, in a trade-off for higher salaries or for corporate reasons better left unexamined often have to move across the country. Whether this will continue in our current economy remains to be seen. The article, "The Five Bedroom, Six-Figure Rootless Life" can be found at http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9C0DE6D61F39F932A35755C0A9639C8B63 " If you want a glimpse on what my life was like growing up, that was kind of it. Except without the overscheduling and the weird "need" to live in a McMansion.
But my current interests, and economic means, often has me wandering neighborhoods where the people have lived in their homes for at least several years, and don't show any signs of leaving due to promotions or company-initiated transfers. This tends to yield richer interior scenes, though the taste in decorating can be somewhat suspect.
Plus, when I did live in white collar paradise a lot of the people in the McMansions weren't home, or the houses were so big that the occupants were sequestered in some interior room, not ironically, the front rooms, which often boasted impressive plate glass or floor to ceiling windows, etc.,
I have enjoyed living in different parts of the country, but I also wonder what is it like to have a firmly rooted sense of home? Walking past strangers' homes sometimes I catch a glimpse, even a bit of understanding of what it might be like.
But I enjoy observing interiors from the polite distance of the sidewalk, or as I drive by. I never linger, only glancing in communal living areas like living rooms or kitchens to see if kids are playing, hunched over their homework, or some one is tidying up for the night. Or perhaps the inhabitants are having family over that they have not seen in a while and the room is filled with laughter over shared memories or people are sitting down to a meal. But I'm always curious to see who lives in the house that I'm passing by and what are they doing at that moment, what part in the human drama is unfolding within those walls.
With the moving away from communal living- dwellings built on top of one another, crammed next to one another we have lost that connection with our fellow peoples- a common lament. But now we are shrouded in our individual homes, closed off, curtains drawn.
I guess that's why I like an open window. It says that you inherently trust the world and that you're not ashamed of what goes on inside, for it truly is a glimpse into your literal world.
I also love the lighting in interiors. It's usually warm and soft, often with a yellow tinge- especially in the Midwest. It's like a picture taken by a Kodak Brownie camera came to life.
I have lived in 11 places in 25 years. But one thing that has always remained constant is our (my family's) interior lighting. We don't use fancy pink lightbulbs, which apparently can help set the mood, :-) or anything exotic or unusual. Just basic 60 watt bulbs, then switching to CFL's, both of which impart a cozy glow. It's reassuring that no matter where I go, at the end of the day, I can turn on a light and sit in the reassuring glow of a reading lamp. I even snagged our old living room lamps when my parents decided to redecorate so I could continue to enjoy the effect.
Not really having a true place that I call home I guess I am an amateur sidewalk sociologist- trying to collect data without impacting the subject.
The New York Times put out an interesting article about the increasing trend of the upwardly mobile, who either by choice or their employer's decision, in a trade-off for higher salaries or for corporate reasons better left unexamined often have to move across the country. Whether this will continue in our current economy remains to be seen. The article, "The Five Bedroom, Six-Figure Rootless Life" can be found at http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9C0DE6D61F39F932A35755C0A9639C8B63 " If you want a glimpse on what my life was like growing up, that was kind of it. Except without the overscheduling and the weird "need" to live in a McMansion.
But my current interests, and economic means, often has me wandering neighborhoods where the people have lived in their homes for at least several years, and don't show any signs of leaving due to promotions or company-initiated transfers. This tends to yield richer interior scenes, though the taste in decorating can be somewhat suspect.
Plus, when I did live in white collar paradise a lot of the people in the McMansions weren't home, or the houses were so big that the occupants were sequestered in some interior room, not ironically, the front rooms, which often boasted impressive plate glass or floor to ceiling windows, etc.,
I have enjoyed living in different parts of the country, but I also wonder what is it like to have a firmly rooted sense of home? Walking past strangers' homes sometimes I catch a glimpse, even a bit of understanding of what it might be like.
Yep, it looks like it'll be a good year for. . .wind farmin?!
In other updates, Good magazine also published an article entitled, "Air Supply: If You Believe the Future of Energy is Offshore Drilling, Think Again" by Brentin Mock.* [issue 14 January/February 2009, page 41]
*not to be confused with Air Supply, the band and their sappy hit, "The Power of Love (You Are My Lady)," which is so cheesy it makes me burst into convulsive giggles every time I am subjected to it. Their other single,"Making Love Out of Nothing At All" provokes the same kind of reaction.
All kidding aside, Mr (?) Mock produced an excellent piece on five states who are utilizing alternate energy sources, specifically wind turbines, to fill their needs. These states included:
Rhode Island, who is using Deepwater Wind,
Delaware, who is in cahoots with Bluewater Wind,
New Jersey, who hired Garden State Offshore Energy and PSEG Renewable Generation,
Oregon and Principle Power are seeking alternate solutions,
and Texas and a Mr. T. Boone Pickens, an environmentally-conscious billionaire.
There was no mention of Verdant Power, who are based out of Virginia and are seeking to tap into the tidal energy in the East River between Queens and Roosevelt Island.
For a refresher on what Verdant Power is up to, see my blog posting on September 5th, 2008 "Change is in the Air- Literally!"
*not to be confused with Air Supply, the band and their sappy hit, "The Power of Love (You Are My Lady)," which is so cheesy it makes me burst into convulsive giggles every time I am subjected to it. Their other single,"Making Love Out of Nothing At All" provokes the same kind of reaction.
All kidding aside, Mr (?) Mock produced an excellent piece on five states who are utilizing alternate energy sources, specifically wind turbines, to fill their needs. These states included:
Rhode Island, who is using Deepwater Wind,
Delaware, who is in cahoots with Bluewater Wind,
New Jersey, who hired Garden State Offshore Energy and PSEG Renewable Generation,
Oregon and Principle Power are seeking alternate solutions,
and Texas and a Mr. T. Boone Pickens, an environmentally-conscious billionaire.
There was no mention of Verdant Power, who are based out of Virginia and are seeking to tap into the tidal energy in the East River between Queens and Roosevelt Island.
For a refresher on what Verdant Power is up to, see my blog posting on September 5th, 2008 "Change is in the Air- Literally!"
And in the running it's algae in the lead with corn trailing far behind
My latest favorite publication is a magazine called Good [www.good.is] I was introduced to it by my dad over the holiday and I have nothing but, er, good things to say about it. It's not preachy, it's not self-indulgent, and it's not boring- unlike Adbusters, which is good, but a little self-righteous at times and often suffers from a coherent theme other than the fact that apparently Americans and capitalism suck. Good's format, however, is well-thought out and the articles enticing. Highly recommended.
While reading through Good's 14th issue (January/February 2009) I came across an interesting article by a Mr. Bryan Walsh entitled, "2009 List: Cleaning House," which noted as #7-
"End of Ethanol
Corn ethanol always had more to do with politics than the environment, and the sudden crash in corn prices and bad press for biofuels could finally wipe out ethanol. Thankfully, another fuel is ready to take its place: algae. The upshot? It doesn't compete with food for fuel, and can be raised just about anywhere." (Walsh, 59)
-including the pool I swam in as a child with my best friend as we were adamant to go swimming. And a few weird green floaty fuzzy things in her pool were not going to deter us. And yes, it probably was as gross as it sounds. Ah the folly of youth!
So hurray new advances on the energy frontier! It's sorry to see corn go, but you win some, you lose some.
Also, algae as an energy form may sound familiar to my loyal readers, or at least those with photographic memories. Remember my blog about algae? If so, don't feel bad. I had to search my own blog to find the posting in which I had originally mentioned it. For the inquisitive it was on November 8th, 2008 "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here"-
For more information on algae as a potential energy source and as cooking oil see Scientific American Earth 3.0's article, "Dark Horse: Oil from Algae" by David Biello http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?id=biofuel-of-the-future
I am also a proud subscriber of Scientific American, but I have yet to receive my first issue. Oh well, still waiting on GQ too. . .
While reading through Good's 14th issue (January/February 2009) I came across an interesting article by a Mr. Bryan Walsh entitled, "2009 List: Cleaning House," which noted as #7-
"End of Ethanol
Corn ethanol always had more to do with politics than the environment, and the sudden crash in corn prices and bad press for biofuels could finally wipe out ethanol. Thankfully, another fuel is ready to take its place: algae. The upshot? It doesn't compete with food for fuel, and can be raised just about anywhere." (Walsh, 59)
-including the pool I swam in as a child with my best friend as we were adamant to go swimming. And a few weird green floaty fuzzy things in her pool were not going to deter us. And yes, it probably was as gross as it sounds. Ah the folly of youth!
So hurray new advances on the energy frontier! It's sorry to see corn go, but you win some, you lose some.
Also, algae as an energy form may sound familiar to my loyal readers, or at least those with photographic memories. Remember my blog about algae? If so, don't feel bad. I had to search my own blog to find the posting in which I had originally mentioned it. For the inquisitive it was on November 8th, 2008 "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here"-
For more information on algae as a potential energy source and as cooking oil see Scientific American Earth 3.0's article, "Dark Horse: Oil from Algae" by David Biello http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?id=biofuel-of-the-future
I am also a proud subscriber of Scientific American, but I have yet to receive my first issue. Oh well, still waiting on GQ too. . .
A shout out to my peeps, or it's all in how you look at it
Having departed from the world of academia I know that if one is willing to dig deep enough one can find enough evidence to support any theory, no matter how crackpot it may be. I also know that if one does not do enough research on a subject one can walk away with too little information and come to an under-informed conclusion thinking it is grounded in fact.
The reason I bring this up is because one of my favorite planning magazines, Next American City [www.amerciancity.org] published an article in their 20th issue entitled, "Beijing's Olympic Problem: Too Much Seoul" written by a Mr. Josh Leon (pages 15-16), which included a misleading title. The article focused on the fact that in China's zeal to add all the bells and whistles to their hosting of the Olympic games they also undertook one of the biggest slum clearances since the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, South Korea.
Unfortunately, or is it fortunately?, Mr. Leon only wrote two sentences on Seoul's slum clearing,
"A notorious slum clearance took place in Seoul, Korea, in advance of the 1988 summer games. To accommodate the flood of international visitors, 720,000 people were relocated, one of the largest urban dislocations up to that time." (Leon, 16)
The rest of the article centered on China and other places that are or have displaced its low-income residents for various reasons.
I take issue with Mr. Leon's title because some people who may read this article may not undertake additional research to see what else Seoul has done since displacing over 700,000 of its residents in a misguided urban housekeeping effort.
[disclaimer: I am adopted from South Korea, as is my brother, so this isn't based entirely on objective journalism. But I don't automatically identify myself as Korean-American or even Asian. Some days I'm surprised to see almond-shaped eyes staring back at me.]
I admit that the title Mr. Leon concoted is amusing with its pun on the word "soul", but it is also distressing, because in the 14th issue January/February 2009 of Good magazine [http://www.good.is/] there were two separate articles which mentioned environmental advances in Seoul. In "Mayoral Fixation" by Benjamin Jervey it was cited that Seoul's mayor, Oh Se-Hoon "wants to turn his city into the world's first truly environmentally megacity. He also tirelessly vouches for- and drinks only- local tap water, urging residents to do the same." (Jervey, 21)
The article "Here to There" by Laura Kiniry cited the Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project, which "through an ambitious two-year plan completed in 2005, the Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project replaced the city's most heavily trafficked roadway- the remains of which were later recycled- with a five-mile-long, 1,000 acre park that attracts both wildlife and people." (Kiniry, 70)
So in the end things balance out. I'm not condoning slum clearances in any way, but I also don't think that a city should be permanently marked for its past mistakes. Here's to balanced journalism!
The reason I bring this up is because one of my favorite planning magazines, Next American City [www.amerciancity.org] published an article in their 20th issue entitled, "Beijing's Olympic Problem: Too Much Seoul" written by a Mr. Josh Leon (pages 15-16), which included a misleading title. The article focused on the fact that in China's zeal to add all the bells and whistles to their hosting of the Olympic games they also undertook one of the biggest slum clearances since the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, South Korea.
Unfortunately, or is it fortunately?, Mr. Leon only wrote two sentences on Seoul's slum clearing,
"A notorious slum clearance took place in Seoul, Korea, in advance of the 1988 summer games. To accommodate the flood of international visitors, 720,000 people were relocated, one of the largest urban dislocations up to that time." (Leon, 16)
The rest of the article centered on China and other places that are or have displaced its low-income residents for various reasons.
I take issue with Mr. Leon's title because some people who may read this article may not undertake additional research to see what else Seoul has done since displacing over 700,000 of its residents in a misguided urban housekeeping effort.
[disclaimer: I am adopted from South Korea, as is my brother, so this isn't based entirely on objective journalism. But I don't automatically identify myself as Korean-American or even Asian. Some days I'm surprised to see almond-shaped eyes staring back at me.]
I admit that the title Mr. Leon concoted is amusing with its pun on the word "soul", but it is also distressing, because in the 14th issue January/February 2009 of Good magazine [http://www.good.is/] there were two separate articles which mentioned environmental advances in Seoul. In "Mayoral Fixation" by Benjamin Jervey it was cited that Seoul's mayor, Oh Se-Hoon "wants to turn his city into the world's first truly environmentally megacity. He also tirelessly vouches for- and drinks only- local tap water, urging residents to do the same." (Jervey, 21)
The article "Here to There" by Laura Kiniry cited the Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project, which "through an ambitious two-year plan completed in 2005, the Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project replaced the city's most heavily trafficked roadway- the remains of which were later recycled- with a five-mile-long, 1,000 acre park that attracts both wildlife and people." (Kiniry, 70)
So in the end things balance out. I'm not condoning slum clearances in any way, but I also don't think that a city should be permanently marked for its past mistakes. Here's to balanced journalism!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
A Crash Course in Poli-Sci and Oil, or Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely
I confess to having a very limited interest in global politics and have usually relied on Saturday Night Live and the Daily Show with Jon Stewart for most of my news updates. Granted, neither one of them are terribly academic in nature. But when it comes to bad news I'll take mine with a little snark instead of the regular news, which makes me want to hide under my bed and never face the real world again.
Like many people if you want to get me interested in a subject that usually doesn't impact my daily living, get someone famous to shine a spotlight on it and then my interest may be sparked. Therefore, in my random thoughts I was thinking of Forest Whitaker, the critically acclaimed actor of many roles from the Crying Game to the Last King of Scotland. And while thinking of the Last King of Scotland I had been thinking of despots and dictators and how on earth do some of these guys get away with their iron fist-like rulings with nary a trace of a velvet glove? I suppose nukes and big scary guys with Uzis help one stay on top.
In my limited way I know that part of the problem we have with our oil crisis is because several of the countries that are plentiful in oil and also are our suppliers are not exactly run by Mr. Rogers.
These countries, also, ironically, also can have incredibly poor/unempowered populations despite rulers who sit on pillows made of virgin unicorns or whatever is outrageous these days at Dictator Decor. But why do the people let this happen?! I pondered this without a great desire to research it.
Luckily, Friedman, the astute foreign news correspondent supplied me with an answer as I was finishing the World is Flat. Now I don't have to get a degree in poli-sci just to get an answer to one question. I hope you find this interesting, if not vaguely troubling, too.
Again: all words are from Friedman, from his 2005 edition of the World is Flat.
"the Curse of Oil"
"Nothing has contributed more to retarding the emergence of a democratic context in places like Venezuela, Nigeria, Saudi Arabia, and Iran that the curse of oil.
As long as monarchs and dictators who run these oil states can get rich by drilling their natural resources- as opposed to drilling the natural talents and energy of their people- they can stay in office forever.
They can use oil money to monopolize all the instruments of power- army, policy, and intelligence- and never have to introduce real transparency or power sharing.
All they have to do is capture and hold the oil tap. They never have to tax their people, so the relationship between ruler and ruled is highly distorted.
Without taxation, there is no representation. The rulers don't really have to pay attention to the people or explain how they are spending their money- because they have not raised that money through taxes.
That is why countries focused on tapping their oil wells always have weak or nonexistent institutions. Countries focused on tapping their people have to focus on developing real institutions, property rights, rule of law, independent courts, modern education, foreign trade, foreign investment, freedom of thought, and scientific enquiry to get the most out of their men and women." (460-461)
Like many people if you want to get me interested in a subject that usually doesn't impact my daily living, get someone famous to shine a spotlight on it and then my interest may be sparked. Therefore, in my random thoughts I was thinking of Forest Whitaker, the critically acclaimed actor of many roles from the Crying Game to the Last King of Scotland. And while thinking of the Last King of Scotland I had been thinking of despots and dictators and how on earth do some of these guys get away with their iron fist-like rulings with nary a trace of a velvet glove? I suppose nukes and big scary guys with Uzis help one stay on top.
In my limited way I know that part of the problem we have with our oil crisis is because several of the countries that are plentiful in oil and also are our suppliers are not exactly run by Mr. Rogers.
These countries, also, ironically, also can have incredibly poor/unempowered populations despite rulers who sit on pillows made of virgin unicorns or whatever is outrageous these days at Dictator Decor. But why do the people let this happen?! I pondered this without a great desire to research it.
Luckily, Friedman, the astute foreign news correspondent supplied me with an answer as I was finishing the World is Flat. Now I don't have to get a degree in poli-sci just to get an answer to one question. I hope you find this interesting, if not vaguely troubling, too.
Again: all words are from Friedman, from his 2005 edition of the World is Flat.
"the Curse of Oil"
"Nothing has contributed more to retarding the emergence of a democratic context in places like Venezuela, Nigeria, Saudi Arabia, and Iran that the curse of oil.
As long as monarchs and dictators who run these oil states can get rich by drilling their natural resources- as opposed to drilling the natural talents and energy of their people- they can stay in office forever.
They can use oil money to monopolize all the instruments of power- army, policy, and intelligence- and never have to introduce real transparency or power sharing.
All they have to do is capture and hold the oil tap. They never have to tax their people, so the relationship between ruler and ruled is highly distorted.
Without taxation, there is no representation. The rulers don't really have to pay attention to the people or explain how they are spending their money- because they have not raised that money through taxes.
That is why countries focused on tapping their oil wells always have weak or nonexistent institutions. Countries focused on tapping their people have to focus on developing real institutions, property rights, rule of law, independent courts, modern education, foreign trade, foreign investment, freedom of thought, and scientific enquiry to get the most out of their men and women." (460-461)
No cuts, no takebacks!
It's no secret that the U.S. is losing footing as the world's super power and there are many other countries that have lived in our shadow that are eager to gain a bigger slice of the prosperity pie.
While this is hardly good news for us, it does have numerous implications. One of them is that this presumably everyone wants the same technology goodies and gadgets that we enjoy. Who wouldn't want an ipod? Or even a microwave! A car, indoor plumbing, etc., In turn, this means higher energy consumption, and potential energy shortages, crises and even war over energy.
This is another topic that I have previously commented on. But again I found an interesting tidbit on potential preventative conflict-resolution from the most unlikely of sources- Dell Computers.
The theory is proposed by Thomas Friedman, in his work the World is Flat, but it based on the Dell model of business. Friedman calls it "the Dell Theory."
"The Dell Theory stipulates: no two countries that are both part of a major global supply chain, like Dell's, will ever fight a war against each other as long as they are both part of the same global supply chain. Because people embedded in major global supply chains don't want to fight old-time wars anymore {Friedman would know- he is a foreign news correspondent} They want to make just-in-time deliveries of goods and services- and enjoy the rising standards of living that come with that. . . (421) It is one thing to lose your McDonald's [in a developing nation]. It is quite another to fight a war that costs you your place in a twenty-first century supply chain that may not come back around for a long time." (425) (all quotes taken from the 2005 edition of the World is Flat by Thomas Friedman)
Just like when we were children with a very defined inherent sense of fairness and justice, we wouldn't allow somebody to cut in front of us in the lunch line or take back the toy they had just offered to us it seems equally unlikely that the rest of the world will be sympathetic to an upstart nation who thinks that the only way to get ahead is to throw a tantrum or discharge a nuke at its nearest offending neighbor.
This may not prove to be infallibly true, but just like children, nobody wants to play with the selfish brat.
While this is hardly good news for us, it does have numerous implications. One of them is that this presumably everyone wants the same technology goodies and gadgets that we enjoy. Who wouldn't want an ipod? Or even a microwave! A car, indoor plumbing, etc., In turn, this means higher energy consumption, and potential energy shortages, crises and even war over energy.
This is another topic that I have previously commented on. But again I found an interesting tidbit on potential preventative conflict-resolution from the most unlikely of sources- Dell Computers.
The theory is proposed by Thomas Friedman, in his work the World is Flat, but it based on the Dell model of business. Friedman calls it "the Dell Theory."
"The Dell Theory stipulates: no two countries that are both part of a major global supply chain, like Dell's, will ever fight a war against each other as long as they are both part of the same global supply chain. Because people embedded in major global supply chains don't want to fight old-time wars anymore {Friedman would know- he is a foreign news correspondent} They want to make just-in-time deliveries of goods and services- and enjoy the rising standards of living that come with that. . . (421) It is one thing to lose your McDonald's [in a developing nation]. It is quite another to fight a war that costs you your place in a twenty-first century supply chain that may not come back around for a long time." (425) (all quotes taken from the 2005 edition of the World is Flat by Thomas Friedman)
Just like when we were children with a very defined inherent sense of fairness and justice, we wouldn't allow somebody to cut in front of us in the lunch line or take back the toy they had just offered to us it seems equally unlikely that the rest of the world will be sympathetic to an upstart nation who thinks that the only way to get ahead is to throw a tantrum or discharge a nuke at its nearest offending neighbor.
This may not prove to be infallibly true, but just like children, nobody wants to play with the selfish brat.
What a Skyline Can Tell Us About a City
I'm a sucker for after-season savings and I was leafing through the calendars for 2009, at, where else Barnes and Noble? and found a calendar that depicted famous city skylines- Los Angeles, Dubai, Stockholm etc.,
As I was admiring the glittering towers I thought of another passage from the World is Flat by Friedman that was truly, pardon the pun, illuminating.
Friedman was speaking with a hedge fund manager named Dinakar Singh. Mr. Singh used to live in India and had returned for a business trip.
"I was on the sixth floor of a hotel in New Delhi," Mr. Singh recalled, "and when I looked out the window I could see for miles. How come? Because you do not have assured power in Delhi for elevators, so there are not many tall buildings." No sensible investor would want to build a tall building in a city where the power could go out at any moment and you might have to walk up twenty flights of stairs. The result is more urban sprawl and an inefficient use of space." (the World is Flat, 2005 edition, 329)
Expounding upon this, Friedman mentioned a trip he took to Dalian, [northeastern] China, which had been so completely transformed by all of the new modern glass-and-steel skyscrapers that had sprung up since the last time he visited, which was only one year ago, that he barely recognized the place.
Friedman had also been to Cairo in the summer of 1974 when "the three most prominent buildings in the city were the Nile Hilton, the Cairo Tower, and the Egyptian TV building. Thirty years later, in 2004, they are still the most prominent buildings there; the Cairo skyline has barely changed. . . So in Delhi, you can see forever. In Cairo, the skyline seems forever the same. In China, if you miss visiting a city for a year, it's like you haven't been there in forever." (329-330)
Three disparate cities, all of which have a sizable stake in the world playing field, but each which takes an individual approach to urban planning based on their resources. Fascinating.
As I was admiring the glittering towers I thought of another passage from the World is Flat by Friedman that was truly, pardon the pun, illuminating.
Friedman was speaking with a hedge fund manager named Dinakar Singh. Mr. Singh used to live in India and had returned for a business trip.
"I was on the sixth floor of a hotel in New Delhi," Mr. Singh recalled, "and when I looked out the window I could see for miles. How come? Because you do not have assured power in Delhi for elevators, so there are not many tall buildings." No sensible investor would want to build a tall building in a city where the power could go out at any moment and you might have to walk up twenty flights of stairs. The result is more urban sprawl and an inefficient use of space." (the World is Flat, 2005 edition, 329)
Expounding upon this, Friedman mentioned a trip he took to Dalian, [northeastern] China, which had been so completely transformed by all of the new modern glass-and-steel skyscrapers that had sprung up since the last time he visited, which was only one year ago, that he barely recognized the place.
Friedman had also been to Cairo in the summer of 1974 when "the three most prominent buildings in the city were the Nile Hilton, the Cairo Tower, and the Egyptian TV building. Thirty years later, in 2004, they are still the most prominent buildings there; the Cairo skyline has barely changed. . . So in Delhi, you can see forever. In Cairo, the skyline seems forever the same. In China, if you miss visiting a city for a year, it's like you haven't been there in forever." (329-330)
Three disparate cities, all of which have a sizable stake in the world playing field, but each which takes an individual approach to urban planning based on their resources. Fascinating.
A sense of place, a sense of place, a loss of sensation in one's extremities: a review of Michael Perry's Truck: a Love Story
Usually I reserve my postings for subjects that are "strictly" urban planning in nature. But I have recently returned from the Midwest, where I spent the majority of my childhood and it has given me cause for reflection for what it means to live there.
The majority of the Midwest is not really known for monumental urban planning projects. With the exception of the major cities, Chicago, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Madison, and Milwaukee, not a lot of earth-shattering and uprooting change goes on in the sleepy towns of the heartland. My grandparents' town of Marshfield, WI put in a new bridge/overpass a few years ago and it still confuses people, especially those of us who don't visit as often as we'd like.
This does not mean that I consider big cities superior to their smaller counterparts in any way. Not at all. I will say that there is more that appeals to me in a big city that a small town cannot offer. But when the hub-bub of big city living grinds me down it's nice to know that there's a quiet place that I can go where I won't be judged on my musical knowledge, or lack thereof,
worry about getting mugged, missing the last train home, etc.,
As we were driving from St. Paul, Minnesota to Marshfield, Wisconsin- very over the hills and through the woods- (the Jeep knows the way to carry the sleigh?) I thought of a rather touching memoir that I had read. It is called Truck: a Love Story by a Mr. Michael Perry, who also wrote Population: 485. My dad had given Truck to me for Christmas last year and at first I had to feign enthusiasm. If he thought that I was going to read a self-indulgent memoir about a redneck and his joyous adventures overhauling his beloved Chevy while telling jokes of dubious taste he had another thing coming.
However, my dad has rather good, though eccentric, taste and this work was nothing like what the cover implied. I love memoirs and this book did not break my faith in the genre.
Mr. Perry lives in the tiny town of New Auburn, Wisconsin, population 485, like Mr. Perry's work implies, not exactly a happenin' metropolis and is just as cold as Minneapolis, hence my title alluding to the loss of feeling in one's fingers and toes :-) But Mr. Perry gives his real-life characters a tangible sense of grace and dignity as they go about their modest lives. Based on the inside cover flap author pix Brad Pitt does not have to worry about anyone stealing his position of first place for best lookin'. But Mr. Perry what may lack in conventional good looks, he makes up for in talent, capturing small town living with a certain eloquence.
His story centers around a year in his life as he does indeed try to restore his beloved rust bucket of a truck despite limited mechanical knowledge. But it is much more than that. He tries to grow his own vegetables- no small feat in a state that is not sympathetic to amateur gardeners, overcome the visual discrimination he receives outside of small town living where everyone tends to be a little scruffy around the edges, and even falls in love.
We drove through many small towns like New Auburn, and I'm sure I've driven through New Auburn itself on numerous occasions without a thought as to what it is like living there. I grew up in towns of modest size, about 35-38,000 people and I plan to live in a suburb of L.A., hopefully Santa Monica, in the future. And while the prospect of living in a town that has a population smaller than my high school secretly horrifies me, Truck shows me that home is really where the heart is even if they don't have a Barnes and Noble within reasonable driving distance ;-) Size a home does not make. It is where you love and are loved.
On that note, if you need me I'll be rereading Truck and the simple joys and frustrations of small town living it revels in. Best to you dear reader in this new year.
The majority of the Midwest is not really known for monumental urban planning projects. With the exception of the major cities, Chicago, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Madison, and Milwaukee, not a lot of earth-shattering and uprooting change goes on in the sleepy towns of the heartland. My grandparents' town of Marshfield, WI put in a new bridge/overpass a few years ago and it still confuses people, especially those of us who don't visit as often as we'd like.
This does not mean that I consider big cities superior to their smaller counterparts in any way. Not at all. I will say that there is more that appeals to me in a big city that a small town cannot offer. But when the hub-bub of big city living grinds me down it's nice to know that there's a quiet place that I can go where I won't be judged on my musical knowledge, or lack thereof,
worry about getting mugged, missing the last train home, etc.,
As we were driving from St. Paul, Minnesota to Marshfield, Wisconsin- very over the hills and through the woods- (the Jeep knows the way to carry the sleigh?) I thought of a rather touching memoir that I had read. It is called Truck: a Love Story by a Mr. Michael Perry, who also wrote Population: 485. My dad had given Truck to me for Christmas last year and at first I had to feign enthusiasm. If he thought that I was going to read a self-indulgent memoir about a redneck and his joyous adventures overhauling his beloved Chevy while telling jokes of dubious taste he had another thing coming.
However, my dad has rather good, though eccentric, taste and this work was nothing like what the cover implied. I love memoirs and this book did not break my faith in the genre.
Mr. Perry lives in the tiny town of New Auburn, Wisconsin, population 485, like Mr. Perry's work implies, not exactly a happenin' metropolis and is just as cold as Minneapolis, hence my title alluding to the loss of feeling in one's fingers and toes :-) But Mr. Perry gives his real-life characters a tangible sense of grace and dignity as they go about their modest lives. Based on the inside cover flap author pix Brad Pitt does not have to worry about anyone stealing his position of first place for best lookin'. But Mr. Perry what may lack in conventional good looks, he makes up for in talent, capturing small town living with a certain eloquence.
His story centers around a year in his life as he does indeed try to restore his beloved rust bucket of a truck despite limited mechanical knowledge. But it is much more than that. He tries to grow his own vegetables- no small feat in a state that is not sympathetic to amateur gardeners, overcome the visual discrimination he receives outside of small town living where everyone tends to be a little scruffy around the edges, and even falls in love.
We drove through many small towns like New Auburn, and I'm sure I've driven through New Auburn itself on numerous occasions without a thought as to what it is like living there. I grew up in towns of modest size, about 35-38,000 people and I plan to live in a suburb of L.A., hopefully Santa Monica, in the future. And while the prospect of living in a town that has a population smaller than my high school secretly horrifies me, Truck shows me that home is really where the heart is even if they don't have a Barnes and Noble within reasonable driving distance ;-) Size a home does not make. It is where you love and are loved.
On that note, if you need me I'll be rereading Truck and the simple joys and frustrations of small town living it revels in. Best to you dear reader in this new year.
Won't You Take Me to. . .Dinkytown?!
I hope that this first posting in the year 2009 finds you safe and well.
I myself have recently thawed out after visiting my parents in the great frozen state of Minnesota. And yes, it was as cold as it sounds.
Luckily, despite being a (second time around) California transplant, I spent the majority of my formative years in Wisconsin and therefore did not curl up in a little ball on the sidewalk, where I would undoubtedly have gotten stuck (think that flagpole licking scene in A Christmas Story) and whimpered like a little girl.
And it's a good thing too because had I not been made of hardier stock I would have missed my friend Petey's gracious tour of her stomping grounds of the Twin Cities.
Though my parents live in a rather nice suburb of St. Paul, I am unfamiliar with the layout of St. Paul and Minneapolis as they moved there after I had graduated from college. As far as I can ascertain, the two cities are several miles apart and are interconnected with many, many highways, which will also route you to the various suburbs that surround the major metropolises.
Petey is an architect and she knows that I am going for a master's urban planning so she tailored a comprehensive, but concise tour of her towns. For example, in some perverse trek to a structural engineering's Mecca, we drove over the I-35W bridge that had collapsed on August 1, 2007 and which has since been reconstructed. We were driving too fast and it was too late at night to admire the new details, but it was a sober reminder that civic improvements should never be neglected.
We also went to Dinkytown, which, according to Wikipedia, is an area within the Marcy Holmes neighborhood in Minneapolis. Dinkytown can be found at 14th Avenue Southeast and 4th Street Southeast and is also part of the north side of UMinn's Twin Cities East Bank campus.
Full disclaimer: Dinkytown is not a slander against the hard-working Midwestern folk that live in that neighborhood, it is its official name and if you ever have a chance to go there, I strongly encourage it.
Not to sound like some pretentious new urbanist idiot but it is an "adorable" community- quiet streets lined with trees festooned with twinkle lights, cozy Mom and Pop shops and untouched, unscathed by Pottery Barn, Barnes and Noble, or Starbucks. More disclaimers are in order- if the IRS were to pull up my bank records they would see that the majority of my free money does go toward padding the coffers of Barnes and Noble and Starbucks. But even my favorite Saint Arbucks/Starshmucks and Noble Barn cannot compete with an old school used bookstore or coffee shop.
Tempting restaurants abound in Dinkytown and Petey and I caught up over perfectly chilled Strongbow ciders, the official drink of the Queen of Denmark (!), at the Kitty Club, or something like that, which is an awesome bar, not what you probably think the name implies.
Unfortunately, the Loring Pasta Bar (formerly Gray's Drug) was too crowded to eat at, which is a shame because Bob Dylan lived in that building. There is a mural dedicated to him around the corner from the visually spectacular Varsity Theater.
But I did indulge in my number one vice, used bookstores and purchased several works, including a work entitled, Cities & People by Mark Girouard, which will be reviewed in an upcoming blog. The fact that the publisher chose Gustave Caillebotte's Paris Street: Rainy Day, for the cover, wins them extra points.
(it's the huge mid-19th century rainy day street scene that Ferris Bueller and friends stand in front of in Ferris Bueller's Day Off when they visit the Art Institute in Chicago. Yeah, yeah, once an art historian, always an art historian) ;-)>
[Unfortunately, my literary indulgence almost meant that I had to check a bag at United at the airport and pay their baggage fee lest I inadvertently tear my shoulder from its socket. Grrr.]
Starving, we then headed to downtown Minneapolis, which I had visited as a child. Upon my initial visit I had been enamored by the everpresent skywalks- enclosed glass and steel bridges that jut out from buildings like tree branches, allowing people to traverse from building to building without being exposed to the frigid weather. Still a genius idea as until global warming kicks into high gear Minneapolis is going to continue to be a frozen tundra in the dead of winter and the less exposure to the elements the better.
Petey knew of an excellent Irish pub, Kieran's (330 2nd Ave., Minneapolis) whose offerings did not fail to delight. I had a fork tender pot roast and she enjoyed a chicken pot pie with puff pastry crust. The music, was sadly, not anything resembling Irish folk or punk, instead we tuned out Fastball and other musical oddities.
Alas, I had a plane to board the next day and our fun had to end. I promised Petey that I would visit her when the weather is warmer and we could explore more. And as you know dear reader, a review of those adventures will be in order. In the meantime, if you have a chance to visit the Twin Cties, there is much in store for you too! Happy 2009!
I myself have recently thawed out after visiting my parents in the great frozen state of Minnesota. And yes, it was as cold as it sounds.
Luckily, despite being a (second time around) California transplant, I spent the majority of my formative years in Wisconsin and therefore did not curl up in a little ball on the sidewalk, where I would undoubtedly have gotten stuck (think that flagpole licking scene in A Christmas Story) and whimpered like a little girl.
And it's a good thing too because had I not been made of hardier stock I would have missed my friend Petey's gracious tour of her stomping grounds of the Twin Cities.
Though my parents live in a rather nice suburb of St. Paul, I am unfamiliar with the layout of St. Paul and Minneapolis as they moved there after I had graduated from college. As far as I can ascertain, the two cities are several miles apart and are interconnected with many, many highways, which will also route you to the various suburbs that surround the major metropolises.
Petey is an architect and she knows that I am going for a master's urban planning so she tailored a comprehensive, but concise tour of her towns. For example, in some perverse trek to a structural engineering's Mecca, we drove over the I-35W bridge that had collapsed on August 1, 2007 and which has since been reconstructed. We were driving too fast and it was too late at night to admire the new details, but it was a sober reminder that civic improvements should never be neglected.
We also went to Dinkytown, which, according to Wikipedia, is an area within the Marcy Holmes neighborhood in Minneapolis. Dinkytown can be found at 14th Avenue Southeast and 4th Street Southeast and is also part of the north side of UMinn's Twin Cities East Bank campus.
Full disclaimer: Dinkytown is not a slander against the hard-working Midwestern folk that live in that neighborhood, it is its official name and if you ever have a chance to go there, I strongly encourage it.
Not to sound like some pretentious new urbanist idiot but it is an "adorable" community- quiet streets lined with trees festooned with twinkle lights, cozy Mom and Pop shops and untouched, unscathed by Pottery Barn, Barnes and Noble, or Starbucks. More disclaimers are in order- if the IRS were to pull up my bank records they would see that the majority of my free money does go toward padding the coffers of Barnes and Noble and Starbucks. But even my favorite Saint Arbucks/Starshmucks and Noble Barn cannot compete with an old school used bookstore or coffee shop.
Tempting restaurants abound in Dinkytown and Petey and I caught up over perfectly chilled Strongbow ciders, the official drink of the Queen of Denmark (!), at the Kitty Club, or something like that, which is an awesome bar, not what you probably think the name implies.
Unfortunately, the Loring Pasta Bar (formerly Gray's Drug) was too crowded to eat at, which is a shame because Bob Dylan lived in that building. There is a mural dedicated to him around the corner from the visually spectacular Varsity Theater.
But I did indulge in my number one vice, used bookstores and purchased several works, including a work entitled, Cities & People by Mark Girouard, which will be reviewed in an upcoming blog. The fact that the publisher chose Gustave Caillebotte's Paris Street: Rainy Day, for the cover, wins them extra points.
(it's the huge mid-19th century rainy day street scene that Ferris Bueller and friends stand in front of in Ferris Bueller's Day Off when they visit the Art Institute in Chicago. Yeah, yeah, once an art historian, always an art historian) ;-)>
[Unfortunately, my literary indulgence almost meant that I had to check a bag at United at the airport and pay their baggage fee lest I inadvertently tear my shoulder from its socket. Grrr.]
Starving, we then headed to downtown Minneapolis, which I had visited as a child. Upon my initial visit I had been enamored by the everpresent skywalks- enclosed glass and steel bridges that jut out from buildings like tree branches, allowing people to traverse from building to building without being exposed to the frigid weather. Still a genius idea as until global warming kicks into high gear Minneapolis is going to continue to be a frozen tundra in the dead of winter and the less exposure to the elements the better.
Petey knew of an excellent Irish pub, Kieran's (330 2nd Ave., Minneapolis) whose offerings did not fail to delight. I had a fork tender pot roast and she enjoyed a chicken pot pie with puff pastry crust. The music, was sadly, not anything resembling Irish folk or punk, instead we tuned out Fastball and other musical oddities.
Alas, I had a plane to board the next day and our fun had to end. I promised Petey that I would visit her when the weather is warmer and we could explore more. And as you know dear reader, a review of those adventures will be in order. In the meantime, if you have a chance to visit the Twin Cties, there is much in store for you too! Happy 2009!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)