Mulling Under Freeways

It was second year Architecture studio at Sci-Arc. 1b, Lindquist/Magar studio was a psychological roller coaster and I was eager to wrap my talents around a tangible design project. When we were settled in, in walks this tall, statuesque man with a coolness I haven't seen since the 70's (when the age of cool was fading from social memory), stalks in our company and introduced himself: Norman Millar. Studio days with him was inspiring, grueling, frustrating riddled with sleepless nights. He gave us an urban project based in a corner shopping plaza on Sunset Blvd. I remember being so happy with what I designed. We had to choose via the Iching from eight different building types to set our designs on, study them for form , logic of space and program, structure and function. Mines was based off an Morphosis project for a Japanese apartment building(if I remember correctly) they had based on a narrow lot size. The project was a Hostel/Community Service building. Teachers would stay in the hostel suites above and classroom/studios and a faculty room with offices on the lower floors with an outdoor public space/auditorium. At the time it was a lot to swallow (but as a working architect this doesn't even scratch the surface of what we have to do to get our buildings built!). Again, I was very happy with my design and a little naive. When my turn came for a desk crit, he stood back and gave a coy grin and asked me, "These spaces, will it be like standing under a freeway?" For some reason my head felt like it just exploded. He explained his reasons but he didn't have to go very far with them. Spaces to him were human, all spaces had a human value and relationship with the body and its imagination. Over exaggerated spaces become cold, impersonal and without the intimacy needed for humans to defines themselves. Scale is a very important character in architecture and we should always design what is needed first then bring in aesthetics.

Now that I'm designing project myself, I, at times, am reminded by those words. I live near the 405 freeway and sometimes I walk to Fox Hills Mall just to feel the day on my skin. At times I stand under the overpass and realized the impact of what he saw in my project and appreciate the time he took to share his criticism.

Murder In Black And White

I had a nightmare a few nights back which kept me up all morning. Two men were fighting, I don't remember if they were naked or not, but I do recall they were sweating and struggling with all their might. The older one had a pencil or a knife, I couldn't tell. The younger just had his bare hands and they were busy fending off the deadly instrument.

A girl with quiet, seductive eyes sat next to me whispering about the many ways she would rape and torture the victor in profane detail, laughing when the younger man finally weakened and the instrument went into his groin. His scream was so unbearably real that I heard it when I woke from the nightmare. I heard that scream two other times in my life. One was when I witnessed someone shooting a man at point blank range.

The scream kept reverberating though the city and it seemed every pedestrian carried the scream till it ripped their faces apart. I've never seen that much red in my life...

Just Thinking...

Why does Life seem like and endless episode of corners, bus stops and visceral intersections of familiar faces always out of time? It feels that way to me almost everyday. I have a crush on this girl, her name is Simran, and I know it doesn't make any sense, but I do. Today I ran into her on a busy crosswalk (during my common days of racing to work), actually she recognised me and called my name. Suddenly all my urgencies were aborted and the single most important thing on my mind was to go and meet her... But we just waved at each other instead till our buses came. Walking the world by yourself isn't fun anymore but if you walk too long alone, there may not be any time to change direction and you'll find yourself always waiting for the bus, or standing on corners waiting to cross the street.

Million Dollar Hotel

Between the two of us (more on her side I suspect than on mine) we decided to go to the Million Dollar Hotel. I believe there was a movie of the same name by Wenders. I think Mel Gibson stared in it. It was a beautiful idea and since we were adventuring in downtown LA, it seemed like a plan. After a day of visiting museums and exploring the city via camera and urban commentary, we arrived at the hotel. We decided to check into a room and my heart lept with excitement: this was new territory for me (and I'm sure Lily would say something similar). Our room was something of a timepiece, very 50's decor and the aura of stories waiting to be heard and visions waiting to be seen. Then Lily and I began our photographic journey: me with my Yashica-Mat and Royal 1940's typewriter, her with a brand new digital camera and her artistic sensibilities.

We traversed the hallways, stairways, people who stayed there indefinitely as well as the visitors touring through its many rooms. I let the experience settle in me, took notes along the way.

Then I discovered a way to the roof. My heart lept again. I almost couldn't contain myself. Lily on the other hand was afraid of heights. "Oh my god, I'm going to die!!" "Look. There's a ladder, see? We won't die... Just don't look down." Which we both did. The metal balcony we were on was small and you couldn't help but to look down. "It'll be alright. Let's just go." "oh my god, Efrem! I don't wanna fall!" "You won't fall. I won't let you!"

Once we made it up there, we ran and played and took pictures and I typed and we took more pictures until nightfall. Standing there on top of Downtown Los Angeles, under the neon lights with my very dear and best friend, was one of the most endearing experiences of my life. It was like discovering a new world neither of us had seen before.

I didn't want to leave.

Afterwards we went to the movies and saw "Million Dollar Hotel", ate at Johnnies Pastrami. A beautiful end to a beautiful day.