Seeing Is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees A Book by Lawrence Wechler & Robert Irwin lawrenceweschler.com Sonorisms IMore than just a machine that runs alongNobody was doing anythingNYLAAggressively Zen+31 More The Small GroupInfinite varieties of contextsYour only language is visionTo see is to forget the name of the thing one seesRobert Irwin: A Conditional ArtThe Finish Fetish ArtistsPhenomenal: California Light, Space, Surface artlifecraftseeing
It begins with a trip down the stairs The walk from my apartment in Greenwich Village to my studio in Tribeca takes about twenty minutes, depending on the route and on whether I stop for a coffee and the Times. Invariably, though, it begins with a trip down the stairs. The building I live in is a so-called Old Law tenement and was built in 1892, a date inscribed on the metal cornice that also carries the building’s name: Annabel Lee. Like most such tenements, ours is five stories high (a few are six, even seven), and I live with my wife, Joan, on the top floor. Michael Sorkin, 20 Minutes in Manhattan 21. Four-Story Limit