Withdrawing

"Turn your face away,
From the garish light of day,
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light"

- from the musical, The Phantom of the Opera
by Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, lyrics by Charles Hart

A stark desire to withdraw from the world has occupied my mind in recent months.

To turn away and not care about an ailing education system that could greatly benefit from greater student initiative; To lose hope and give up on a capitalistic society drunk on the cheap wine that is the prosaic hyper-formal garbage we see these days as decantered from the bowels of dishonest artists masquerading as architects – the presence of such tumors in the profession only serving to diminish our influence in the crafting of buildings - as Harry Gugger so beautifully professes, and birthed only because of ailing architectural education the world over.

Disappointment, in establishments, in so-called friends, is a drink best served cold on a winter's day, downed in the contemplative solitude of nightly walks home from the studio. The furnace that once raged as a result of an incensed soul which felt compelled to right a world of wrongs has now been reduced to a mere brazier of glowing coal.

But Responsiblity is a dear bed-fellow who grabs you by the arm and turns you around; Reputation is a prized gem that once scratched will never be fully restored. Now that the hand has been put to the plough, now that's it's time to walk that way, one can only endeavour to walk it well.

Waiting on the World to Change

photo courtesy of Joe Crimmings.

I ran my final BMT standard obstacle course on the same day that US forces launched the 2003 invasion of Iraq, half way across the world, in what was supposed to be a shock and awe, in and out affair.

A year later I remember being glued to the tube with my dad as we watched John Kerry floor incumbent President George W. Bush in the 2004 presidential debates only to have our hopes dashed when the latter was re-elected - the power-bloc of white, mid-west Christians (aka, red-neck Americans of Irish descent) having been one of the main culprits behind the tragedy.

Politics and world affairs don't exist in the realm of our early 20s demographic, but it's always held an attraction for me. I suspect it's got something to do with having a father who's 70 plus, isn't into football and has experienced, first hand during his prime, the flourishing of Singapore from colony to aspiring world city.

There was so much at stake at this year's presidential elections, along with so much hope.

Thankfully, and to much relief, "a new dawn of American leadership is at hand".

I won't be surprised if architecture gets swept along in its wake.

*cue happy songs for a happy ending...



Paul Doucette (the acoustic guitarist in the bucket hat) is damn hyper.



And for those who'd prefer a more stripped down, soulful version.

There is no 'Group' in 'Group Work'

The radio silence on my blog can only mean that I've returned to my normal (or some would say, abnormal) way of life. Here's what I've been working on.

Our first six weeks are spent on Live Projects. They're community-based projects that have but a slight architectural flavour to them. It's very hands-free, student-run sort of stuff and every group's doing something different.

I suppose the only gripe I have about it is that it's group work for 10 people.

There's no such thing as that.

Group work for 10 people.

Who're you trying to kid?

Given, if all 10 were super solid creme de la creme material, at the very least you'd end up with something that looks creme de la creme should all 10 agree, on some level, to pull their weight regarding their respective responsibilities. But the chances of that happening are as slim (or should I say, fat) as Hadid doing her own Maya port over to 3d studio max model - rendered and photoshopped.

Which brings me to my group - two singaporeans sandwiched between four englishmen and four PRCs; or at least that's what it says on the 'Group' list. I truly wish it were a situation where too many cooks spoilt the broth, but most unfortunately, only four or five seem to be at work while the others have either completely disappeared from the kitchen or have decided to do shift work. One of them's not even sure how to put her apron on.



So how? You haven't much choice except to fall back on the phenomenal endurance training drilled into you by the DOA. You stop cooking dinner on weekday nights because it just takes too much time to prepare, cook, eat and wash the dishes. You put up with freezing studio spaces after 8pm cuz the Post-graduate studios are on the 17th floor and the Arts Tower gets buffeted by autumn/winter gales.

But in the process you also manage to make plenty of friends and acquaintances you would not have made had you very simply not been hanging around. Thus far, I'm truly thankful for the friendships that've been forged in the fires of turmoil and in the warm glow of common passion, for the brief and open exchange of opinions over a cup of hot chocolate at 2 in the morning with a Pakistani economics student who's first friend in Sheffield also happened to be Chinese, and for the pleasant, quintessential store owner uncle of the Chinese takeaway behind the Arts Towers who never fails to throw in free spring rolls or fried chicken wings with your order (Jon, I really wish you could try these).

It's hard to accept that I'm almost at the halfway mark. I think I'm going to miss this place more than I had expected.

Edale

For so long had it eluded me.

For too long had I burned - with frustration, bitterness, disappointment, anxiety.

Being able to cast all that aside just magnified the impact of Edale. To be washed over with peace completely; every iota - physically, spiritually and emotionally.

Everything didn’t matter anymore; not in the engulfing vastness of epical landscapes; not in an ocean of complete silence; not in the sweeping majesty of awesome creation.

And besides,

Why fight so hard to change the world, when the world doesn't want to be changed?

For two precious minutes, I revelled in absolute peace.

For two minutes, I felt absolutely free...

Absolutely free...

Cubic Houses (Kubuswonig)

We visited the Cubic Houses (Kubuswonig) in Rotterdam a few weeks back. It was definitely an experience to remember. Designed by Piet Blom back in 1984, it’s a whole forest of tilted, cubic housing units skewered on concrete circulation cores.

It’s quirky and strange, to say the least, and I was admittedly very put off in the beginning. But, after an hour or so of delving into its bowels [yes, bowels. cuz it truly feels like you’re moving through the depths of a monster], it won me over with its unique spaces.








The quirkiness kind of justifies itself when you’re inside - having your view pitched downwards to the internal courtyards when you're in the study and living room and then upwards to the sky when you’re hanging out in the attic, all thanks to clever use of form and slanted windows.

Alas, ants burrow cylindrical tunnels underground; birds weave blobs of twigs to form nests and for thousands of years human have generally lived in orthogonal dwellings. I think there’s good reason for that. And as fascinating and fun as it was to experience a different spatial environment, it got pretty darn claustrophobic and uncomfortable in there after awhile; definitely not home material for me.



This encounter, along with the other sights and sounds around Rotterdam, Amsterdam and Delft firmed up a general impression of Dutch Architecture in my mind. I feel it’s a general disposition towards boldness and bravado. Boldness - minus any connotation of heroism or courage; Unapologetic; Unsympathetic; I will do as I please.

Fun and interesting? Yes.

Long-lasting and endearing? Hmm, maybe. Perhaps. Time will tell.

Chatsworth House

Chatsworth House, built in 1553, is the country home of the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. The complex has passed through so many hands crediting its creators would be a history lesson in itself (and a pretty dry one at that). More interestingly it’s the site for the upcoming movie The Duchess, starring the very beautiful British-born Keira Knightly.



I recall reading an article back in History of Western Arch about the general convention back in the day to segregate circulation from living quarters and for rooms to be placed back to back, leading through from one to another. Not an experience I relished. It was too staccato. Furthermore, it didn’t help that the rooms were highly opulent and stocked full of master-crafted furniture. Can you say visual-overload?



The Garden though, or should I say, Forest, was breath-taking. It was a Tour de Force of the English Picturesque. T'was an immense outdoor space, so huge and open you felt like running around like a child and screaming your lungs out. It’s a great piece of work by a man we were introduced to back in Lillian Chee’s lectures – Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown. It even boasted a gravity-fed water fountain as one of its centerpieces, engineered by Sir Joseph Paxton of Crystal Palace fame.



Soaking it all in, I could understand why the Picturesque still held sway over much of today’s landscape designs. It was hard to tell the difference between nature and Nature because when done to such perfection, the latter blended in so well with the former, whilst retaining that recognisable hand of man. It felt so so peaceful I didn’t feel like talking at all.

Wouldn’t mind going back one day and taking a nice long meditative walk alone.

Architours 08

Architours will take place over 3 weekends in October starting this Friday, 03/10/08.

For more info, hop over to http://www.archifest.sg/architours.html and then book your tickets through Sistic. Students prices are available.