I believe that architecture, as anything else in life, is evolutionary. Ideas evolve; they don't come from outer space and crash into the drawing board.
Architects in the past have tended to concentrate their attention on the building as a static object. I believe dynamics are more important: the dynamics of people, their interaction with spaces and environmental condition.
For me, the excitement in architecture revolves around the idea and the phenomenon of the experience of that idea. Residences offer almost immediate gratification. You can shape space, light, and materials to a degree that you sometimes can't in larg...
You might say that when you step inside, you're entering a honorific space, but that's something totally different than experiencing it. And in architecture the experience comes first. That has the deepest effect on us.
I've become convinced that Los Angeles is going to become the next contemporary art capital - no other city has more contemporary gallery space than Los Angeles. We've come into our own, finally.
There used to be a lot of industry in Montreal, and now there's not, so it's really easy to get huge, empty spaces where you can practice and make music or make art for very, very cheap.
If you take 2001: A Space Odyssey as an example of somebody who creates a new language in film by what he was able to accomplish with art direction, photography, lighting, etc., it is still a gold standard for science fiction.
The wonderful thing about a book is that you have a canvas that is 300 pages wide, and it's all free space. You can make a piece of art as big as you want and whatever shape you want.
He is fascinated by their lack of conventional hierarchy or structure and loves how the forces of capital have subverted plans to control and order space.
We have at any rate one advantage over Time and Space. We think them whereas it is extremely doubtful whether they think us!
I just can't fathom why anyone would stand on a ledge when there's a respectable amount of walking space right next to it.
You can tell it's a poem because it's swimming in a little gel pack of white space. That shows it's a poem.
If one were to build the house of happiness, the largest space would be the waiting room.
One song bled into another and they remained locked together, neither willing to break the intimacy that surrounded them, concealing them in the small space the two occupied.
The cards always look different when it’s your turn to play them; loaded with subtly different possibilities.
Come here, cat. You wouldn’t want to destroy the space-time continuum, would you? Meow. Meow.
The burnt-off connectors and shadows where Ravan once filled my spaces— those, I think, are the sensations of grief.
Down there between our legs, it's like an entertainment complex in the middle of a sewage system. Who designed that?
There are some laws that are coded into the very nature of the universe, and one is: There Is Never Enough Shelf Space.
Silence made space for other people's words, which was important for those who needed to be listened to.
It's so stupid because all I wanted was space and now that I have it, there's this part of me that's achingly lonely I could die.
