Working with Brian Eno on design principles for streets An Article by Dan Hill & Brian Eno medium.com Think like a gardener, not an architect: design beginnings, not endings Unfinished = fertile Artists are to cities what worms are to soil. A city’s waste should be on public display. Make places that are easy for people to change and adapt (wood and plaster, as opposed to steel and concrete.) Places which accommodate the very young and the very old are loved by everybody else too. Low rent = high life Make places for people to look at each other, to show off to each other. Shared public space is the crucible of community. A really smart city is the one that harnesses the intelligence and creativity of its inhabitants. collectionsurbanismstreetscitieswastegardens
The answer to a brief is not necessarily a building An Article by Dan Hill medium.com This brilliantly engaging book may actually be one of the first to describe and discuss what might be architecture’s true value at this pivotal point in our own history: seeing that everything is connected, and artfully hosting that complexity, before constructively plotting routes towards clarity, pinned up on broad civic, ethical foundations. So Architects after Architecture, as the title suggests, is not about buildings. Or at least not always, not directly. Buildings are simply one of the ways that this complex yet constructive sensibility might exert itself, but they are certainly not the only way, nor are they always the most potent – as muf’s Liza Fior makes clear here, when she says “the answer to a brief is not necessarily a building.” The Best Interface is No Interface architectureconnection
On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning A Short Story from The Elephant Vanishes by Haruki Murakami 100% perfect
100% perfect And through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society... Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty. One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, both along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in the chest. And they knew: She is the 100% perfect girl for me. He is the 100% perfect boy for me. But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fourteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever. love