I am here to discuss the future of the extension I have designed, the ‘Radical Corkscrew’
Ian Martin is away this week, but he has organised a replacement column by Jacob Kinderegg of Studio Jacob Kinderegg, the world’s leading designer of sorrowful museums.
Monday
I am in New York, feeling very much like a New Yorker. This morning as I was getting dressed  one boot at a time, like everyone else living in a democracy  I looked out of my window at Ground Zero.
Not for the first time, I reflected that there are some very positive things rising from the ashes of the September 11 disaster. Not least a world-class memorial, set within a Zone of Somber Rememberin’.
I have been very lucky to get the opportunity to replan this area of Lower Manhattan  though admittedly only up to ground level.
Above ground level, a dazzling array of brilliant architecture by some of the best designers in the world will rise. It is my task to guide their brilliance to fruition with constructive criticism and public speeches. I expect in due course to feel quite humbled by this.
Tuesday
There’s an old English folk song shrouded in half-forgotten memory and pain, which goes: “Maybe it’s because I’m in London that I love London Townâ€Â.
Standing today on Yesminister Bridge, I felt absolutely like a Londoner. I am here to meet the trustees of the Victoria & Albert Museum to discuss the future of the extension I have designed for them, the “Radical Corkscrewâ€Â.
They seem very impressed with my theory of architectural counterpoint  built form/void, amnesia/remembrance etc.
They set me a new challenge: to “unthink the unthinkableâ€Â. Sadly, by the end of our meeting, this concept had evolved into decommissioning the unbuildable.
Wednesday
Today I am in Tel Aviv. As ever, it feels like home. And, like all homes, unique in its contradictions. Yes, there is sadness. But also there is hope, and flattery.
We drove straight to the Museum of Infinite Misery But Also Healing, where I was given a gold medal for my Services to Anguish, and a lavish dinner afterwards. It was a joyous occasion.
I spoke about the unquenchable human spirit, then took up my accordion and played a poignant version of the Trini Lopez tune If I Had A Hammer.
Thursday
Genoa? She’s my wife! Seriously  every time I come to Genoa, it’s like rediscovering an almost atavistic sense of belonging, of self-in-time-and-space.
To me, a city is the ultimate work of art, and every citizen is a contributor to that work. I will shortly be extending the living canvas here with several new skyscrapers, and today I got to meet the project’s investors, who are the modern-day equivalent of great Renaissance patrons.
I explained that my design will hold echoes of the Bubonic Plague that swept Europe in the Middle Ages, but will also suggest the movements of life-affirming peasant dances. My patrons looked a little uncertain until I said that, of course, without guaranteed minimum areas of lettable floorspace there can be neither joy nor tragedy.
Friday
As I stroll through Dublin’s fair city (practically a second home these days) my mind is racing. “Plump, stately Buck Mulliganâ€Â, fried kidneys, the dialogue of gas lamps, Molly Bloom and yes crumbs in the bed yes...
A double epiphany strikes me. Firstly, I am in Prague, not Dublin! Secondly, the reason I’m thinking in this stream of consciousness way is because I’m supposed to be pitching my ideas for a Museum of Surrealist Remembrance in half an hour.
The meeting goes well, of course. I explain my basic idea  a cluster of exploding shards. But this time, they have a slightly melted look. How my clients laugh when I hand them the drawings  I have written “These are not the drawings†on the front.
Saturday
Berlin, my spiritual home. I have just called in briefly to pick up my spiritual mail and feed my spiritual cat.
Sunday
Home again to New York. A family day, full of laughter. And Bach. And invoicing.
Anybody saw-has-read 'the original' Ian Martin lately? Am interested in reading what is going on, as far for the mock-up, the metropolis is still breathing. At night I hear her whisper fairy tales of glorious encounters between Russian Mountains and 7 inches barbed wire. Tomorrow will be another day, I'll see what commission my fortune cookie has in mind. The afternoon is scheduled for discovering what this is about. As far for the story, check:
Ian Martin ... funniest man in the business
does anyone else find themselves doubled over after reading ian martin's series in bd?
I am here to discuss the future of the extension I have designed, the ‘Radical Corkscrew’
Ian Martin is away this week, but he has organised a replacement column by Jacob Kinderegg of Studio Jacob Kinderegg, the world’s leading designer of sorrowful museums.
Monday
I am in New York, feeling very much like a New Yorker. This morning as I was getting dressed  one boot at a time, like everyone else living in a democracy  I looked out of my window at Ground Zero.
Not for the first time, I reflected that there are some very positive things rising from the ashes of the September 11 disaster. Not least a world-class memorial, set within a Zone of Somber Rememberin’.
I have been very lucky to get the opportunity to replan this area of Lower Manhattan  though admittedly only up to ground level.
Above ground level, a dazzling array of brilliant architecture by some of the best designers in the world will rise. It is my task to guide their brilliance to fruition with constructive criticism and public speeches. I expect in due course to feel quite humbled by this.
Tuesday
There’s an old English folk song shrouded in half-forgotten memory and pain, which goes: “Maybe it’s because I’m in London that I love London Townâ€Â.
Standing today on Yesminister Bridge, I felt absolutely like a Londoner. I am here to meet the trustees of the Victoria & Albert Museum to discuss the future of the extension I have designed for them, the “Radical Corkscrewâ€Â.
They seem very impressed with my theory of architectural counterpoint  built form/void, amnesia/remembrance etc.
They set me a new challenge: to “unthink the unthinkableâ€Â. Sadly, by the end of our meeting, this concept had evolved into decommissioning the unbuildable.
Wednesday
Today I am in Tel Aviv. As ever, it feels like home. And, like all homes, unique in its contradictions. Yes, there is sadness. But also there is hope, and flattery.
We drove straight to the Museum of Infinite Misery But Also Healing, where I was given a gold medal for my Services to Anguish, and a lavish dinner afterwards. It was a joyous occasion.
I spoke about the unquenchable human spirit, then took up my accordion and played a poignant version of the Trini Lopez tune If I Had A Hammer.
Thursday
Genoa? She’s my wife! Seriously  every time I come to Genoa, it’s like rediscovering an almost atavistic sense of belonging, of self-in-time-and-space.
To me, a city is the ultimate work of art, and every citizen is a contributor to that work. I will shortly be extending the living canvas here with several new skyscrapers, and today I got to meet the project’s investors, who are the modern-day equivalent of great Renaissance patrons.
I explained that my design will hold echoes of the Bubonic Plague that swept Europe in the Middle Ages, but will also suggest the movements of life-affirming peasant dances. My patrons looked a little uncertain until I said that, of course, without guaranteed minimum areas of lettable floorspace there can be neither joy nor tragedy.
Friday
As I stroll through Dublin’s fair city (practically a second home these days) my mind is racing. “Plump, stately Buck Mulliganâ€Â, fried kidneys, the dialogue of gas lamps, Molly Bloom and yes crumbs in the bed yes...
A double epiphany strikes me. Firstly, I am in Prague, not Dublin! Secondly, the reason I’m thinking in this stream of consciousness way is because I’m supposed to be pitching my ideas for a Museum of Surrealist Remembrance in half an hour.
The meeting goes well, of course. I explain my basic idea  a cluster of exploding shards. But this time, they have a slightly melted look. How my clients laugh when I hand them the drawings  I have written “These are not the drawings†on the front.
Saturday
Berlin, my spiritual home. I have just called in briefly to pick up my spiritual mail and feed my spiritual cat.
Sunday
Home again to New York. A family day, full of laughter. And Bach. And invoicing.
[img]http://www.bdonline.co.uk/Pictures/byline/g/y/w/Libeskind_headFINAL.jpg[/url]
Anybody saw-has-read 'the original' Ian Martin lately? Am interested in reading what is going on, as far for the mock-up, the metropolis is still breathing. At night I hear her whisper fairy tales of glorious encounters between Russian Mountains and 7 inches barbed wire. Tomorrow will be another day, I'll see what commission my fortune cookie has in mind. The afternoon is scheduled for discovering what this is about. As far for the story, check:
http://worldofarchitecture.blogspot.com/
Block this user
Are you sure you want to block this user and hide all related comments throughout the site?
Archinect
This is your first comment on Archinect. Your comment will be visible once approved.