Archive for the 'Architecture' Category

Page 3 of 8

In High Fashion: Walking the High Line in NYC.


You better work. (Photos by C-M.)

At this point, we (and by we, I mean New Yorkers) have all read/heard/ dreamt/talked breathlessly about the High Line, the brand spankin’ new urban park on Manhattan’s west side that occupies a defunct elevated rail line once popular with the urban decay set. Designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro, a design firm “at the crossroads of architecture, the visual arts and the performing arts” – at least, that’s what the website says – it has been hailed for the way in which it seamlessly fuses the abandoned railway aesthetic with plantings worthy of Garden Design.

But now that the park has been co-opted by the good people of New York, it has struck me that the High Line is less an urban design masterpiece than the world’s longest catwalk: a nine-block fashion runway where the sleek and the manicured arrive to display their studiously-casual boho frocks and ginormous sunglasses. And I, for one, totally dig it. The polished industrial design is so of-the-moment, the views are spectacular and the people-watching, some of the best in New York. Diller Scofidio + Renfro were even thoughtful enough to incorporate a well-designed stoner hang-out — an area I like to refer to as the “Stoner Pit.” (Pairs well with Kahuna).

To accompany the extravaganza of urban professionals, we suggest picking up a well-stuffed lobster roll from Lobster Place inside the Chelsea Market (or the cheaper shrimp tarragon roll) and following it up with the frozen deliciousness at L’Arte del Gelato (they usually have a cart parked at about 15th street on the park). Then sit back and enjoy the spectacle.

For a highly informative video report – with great historic pix – check out Richard Lacayo at Time.com. The NY Times also has a cool photo essayClick on images to supersize.

Continue reading ‘In High Fashion: Walking the High Line in NYC.’

Pave the Planet: San Suzie reports on Alberto Burri’s land art installation in Sicily.


Yes, this is real. (Photos by San Suzie.)

If there’s one thing that abounds in Sicily – more than orange groves and vineyards – it’s concrete. True to stereotype, there are cement plants all over this Mafia-riddled island. And its once-beautiful capital, Palermo, is rife with hideous concrete buildings that hover next to Baroque palazzi. (These soulless structures are often constructed using pilfered funds intended to restore buildings bombed in WWII). Amid all of these mind-numbing edifices, we found what is considered the largest work of land art in Europe. And guess what? It’s made of the same poor-quality concrete as the buildings in Palermo.

Only here, it works. Titled Grande Cretto, by postwar Italian artist Alberto Burri, the piece commemorates the destruction of the Western Sicilian town of Gibellina in a catastrophic 1968 earthquake. In 1980, roughly twelve years after residents rebuilt their town 18 km away, Burri covered the hillside town’s streets and ruined buildings– an area roughly 900 x 1200 feet and about 5′ in height, with white concrete.  The streets look like the crackle pattern on Burri’s fabled paintings, only you can walk through these.  Or skate through them. (Not to give anyone any ideas.) But if you were to, no one would know: it’s in the middle of nowhere, a two hour drive from Palermo – and just a short stop from Castellammare del Golfo (birthplace of Joe Bonanno and Frank Stallone, Sr., father of Sly), where you can go for a swim at one of the pristine beaches at the nearby Zingaro nature preserve and then feast on a plate of pasta with sardines, pine nuts and raisins.

Find more information on Burri’s installation here.

Click on images to supersize.

Continue reading ‘Pave the Planet: San Suzie reports on Alberto Burri’s land art installation in Sicily.’

Sardinia Dispatch: San Suzie examines abandoned coastal Modernism; eats fish roe.


Every beach needs a building like this: The abandoned Ospedale Marino in Cagliari, Sardinia. (Photos by San Suzie.)

There are two things we can’t get enough of here at C-Mon: Abandoned Modernist structures and graffiti. Which is why the Ospedale Marino, above, an old seaside hospital in Sardinia is such a find. The Ospedale appears to be a late or mid ’50s work of Sardinian architect Ubaldo Badas, considered one of Italy’s premier architects in the middle of the last century. It lies on Poetto Beach, an 8km Copacabana-style expanse of powdery white sand and clear water that is reachable by bus from the port of Cagliari. (The locals say the beach is no longer what it used to be, but our bar is not so high.) Badas’s graceful building is now in advanced stages of concrete and rebar decay. It was originally clad in plain, matte grey tile, which has partially fallen off.

Like most places in Italy, people here believe that taking the sea air is good for one’s health. And the sea air here is definitely pretty awesome. Sardinia is at the center of the Mediterranean and is generally considered to be the sunniest spot in Europe. On the day I took these pictures, it was about 90 degrees and I almost burned my corneas. But I quickly made up for the near-blindness by taking a dip in the cool, clear, Mediterranean, then heading off for a plate of octopus and pasta with fish roe, a glass of Vermentino, a scoop of ginger-pineapple sorbetto, and then a nap.

Click on images to supersize. Continue reading ‘Sardinia Dispatch: San Suzie examines abandoned coastal Modernism; eats fish roe.’

Calendar. 06.30.09.


Shiki Community Hall, 2002, in Kumamoto Japan, designed by Hitoshi Abe. (Image courtesy of Atelier Hitoshi Abe.)

Lima, Day 26: Narchitecture, deconstructed.


Mirrored windows, neo-classical mini-facade embedded onto larger sort-of neo-classical facade, chopped-up classical columns, Roman-style statues of naked people…and a Peruvian buffet! All for only S/35 (almost US$12). By jove, I think we have narchitecture! (Photo by C-M.)

Lima, Day 19: Crumbling Modernism.


The Cine Tauro: Musta been something in its day. (Photos by C-M.)

Lima is not kind to its buildings. The city spends half the year moistened by a persistent fog known as garúa, under skies that look like styrofoam. There’s dust: a pervasive influx from from the surrounding desert, mixed with the soot produced by an endless parade of smog-belching buses. And there are regular earthquakes, end-of-the-world affairs that regularly clear patches of the grid.

Even so, the city retains some striking Modernist buildings. Even if, sometimes, they are little more than a shell. Above is the Cine Tauro, designed by Walter Weberhofer in 1960, residing on a grimy corner on the west side of downtown. This was where stylish limeños once came to see the latest releases, before heading off to El Chinito for over-stuffed sandwiches. The country’s economic crisis in the 1980s (aided and abetted by the internal conflict) sent the locals running for the suburbs. Now the Cine Tauro is a decaying porn palace, a spot where solo men pop in for a skin flick and a hand job. (Though, two years ago, artist Sandra Nakamura did use a piece of the sign as part of a temporary gallery installation.)

As the city works on restoring its downtown, it’d be nice if they didn’t forget about structures like this. Neo-colonial is nice. And it’s great to see the areas around the main plazas looking spiffy. But how rad would it be to catch a flick in this building? Preferably without getting stuck to the seat.

Click on images to supersize.

Continue reading ‘Lima, Day 19: Crumbling Modernism.’

Lima, Day 10: Narchitecture, pre-Columbian style.


Has to be seen to be believed. (Photos by C-M.)

Inca-style stone detailing, a tumi-shaped whatchamahoozit and a head- scratching roof thingie that appears to fuse Moche iconography with a Paracas color palette. In other words, the type of warrior architecture that would do a wannabe drug lord right.

Click on images to supersize.

Continue reading ‘Lima, Day 10: Narchitecture, pre-Columbian style.’

Narchitecture, Chino Latino edition.


Restaurante Royal. (Photo by C-M.)

Neo-classical silhouette? Check.
Garish color palette? Check.
Acres of reflective glass? Check.
Italianate balustrades? Check.
Fu lions? Check.
Narchitecture has been achieved.

The Digest. 05.13.09.


Brooklyn rooftops. Best viewed large.

Calendar. 05.12.09.


Fallingwater, by Frank Lloyd Wright. See my photos of Wright’s Florida Southern College campus here. (Photo by C-M.)