For an artist who used to chop up cows and ambush people with his foreskin, his new south London HQ is notably subdued. The facade is not encrusted with dead butterflies nor diamond skulls, nor is there the clinical air that his eerie white production facility in Gloucestershire exudes. In fact, it looks a bit like a block of luxury docklands apartments – a couple of old brick warehouses with a polite in-keeping brick extension. Has the 50-year-old prankster finally grown up? — theguardian.com
Previously on Archinect:
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The foreskin reference grabs your attention, but this is a much better reason to read:
It is barely perceptible, but it makes a difference – like many such details found within. Throughout, there are the hallmarks of Caruso St John’s obsessive precision, which can verge on psychotic. Like a dog’s hearing, their sensory perception operates on another level to most architects. They see and feel with extraordinary sensitivity and, more importantly, can guide their builders to achieve levels of finish that are on another plane – a skill clearly aided here by Hirst’s ample budget.
what a gallery should be - dead nuts clean architecture white rooms - architecture disappears art is what you see.
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