Can someone please tell us what is so great about a chamfered white box with a few panels of glass? Clearly Nicolai is not the answer to his NYTimes predecesor.
Suture, I actually will be the least likely defendant of Nicolai, but for goodness' sake, at least we don't have to be submitted to anymore dragged-by-the-hairs oblique references to Greek mythology.
Anything is better that Herbie. However, doesnt the Times and its readers deserve an architectural "critic" who has the capacity to filter through the noise and give measured and insightful commentary? Below are samples from the Nicolai's sophomorish over the top commentary. Instead of Greek mythology, we are given limp analogies to curtains, erotic charges and The Wizard of Oz.
In originality alone, it ranks with Mr. Gehry's 2003 Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles and Hans Scharoun's 1960's-era Berlin Philharmonic as one of the most important concert halls built in the last 100 years.
The layering of images, coupled with the sense that you are constantly slipping around the building's edges, imbues the space with a subtle erotic charge, as if the purity of the architectural spaces were being infected by unconscious images, a swirl of fragmented memories and repressed desires.
Most breathtakingly, the walls at either end of the hall are made of enormous sheets of corrugated glass suggesting the folds of a curtain. The curved glass gives a distorted view of the city outside, so that the entire room feels as if it is floating dreamily in the middle of the city
The layering of images, coupled with the sense that you are constantly slipping around the building's edges, imbues the space with a subtle erotic charge, as if the purity of the architectural spaces were being infected by unconscious images, a swirl of fragmented memories and repressed desires.
Set in the odd leftover spaces between the form of the main hall and the exterior shell, these rooms evoke pieces of the city that have broken off and embedded themselves in the building's skin. Like the characters and objects swept up by the tornado in "The Wizard of Oz," they bring to mind the psychological and emotional residue spinning around in your head, the scattered fragments of memory that shade experience.
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Can someone please tell us what is so great about a chamfered white box with a few panels of glass? Clearly Nicolai is not the answer to his NYTimes predecesor.
concert halls galore
Sublime madness in the new houses of music: Rem Koolhaas in Porto, Henning Larsen in Copenhagen. What about London?
Suture, I actually will be the least likely defendant of Nicolai, but for goodness' sake, at least we don't have to be submitted to anymore dragged-by-the-hairs oblique references to Greek mythology.
and Art Daily...
Anything is better that Herbie. However, doesnt the Times and its readers deserve an architectural "critic" who has the capacity to filter through the noise and give measured and insightful commentary? Below are samples from the Nicolai's sophomorish over the top commentary. Instead of Greek mythology, we are given limp analogies to curtains, erotic charges and The Wizard of Oz.
In originality alone, it ranks with Mr. Gehry's 2003 Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles and Hans Scharoun's 1960's-era Berlin Philharmonic as one of the most important concert halls built in the last 100 years.
The layering of images, coupled with the sense that you are constantly slipping around the building's edges, imbues the space with a subtle erotic charge, as if the purity of the architectural spaces were being infected by unconscious images, a swirl of fragmented memories and repressed desires.
Most breathtakingly, the walls at either end of the hall are made of enormous sheets of corrugated glass suggesting the folds of a curtain. The curved glass gives a distorted view of the city outside, so that the entire room feels as if it is floating dreamily in the middle of the city
The layering of images, coupled with the sense that you are constantly slipping around the building's edges, imbues the space with a subtle erotic charge, as if the purity of the architectural spaces were being infected by unconscious images, a swirl of fragmented memories and repressed desires.
Set in the odd leftover spaces between the form of the main hall and the exterior shell, these rooms evoke pieces of the city that have broken off and embedded themselves in the building's skin. Like the characters and objects swept up by the tornado in "The Wizard of Oz," they bring to mind the psychological and emotional residue spinning around in your head, the scattered fragments of memory that shade experience.
with lots of imgs.
and check this out
www.casadamusica.com
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