see, l.a is a random city. or, rather, a city of randomness. and random things. and a twisted unicorn spaghetti approach to cohesion. and because l.a is random i believe it would be odd to make any attempt to either shoe-horn or force any notions of cohesion onto it. even if involving dangling participles. like the last sentence. sorry.
now, this building. house. bunker. it's a random house in a random setting. it's modern and kind of brutalist and boxy. it's also grey, with dark windows. all well and good, but it presents a whole host of questions.
like, for instance, who wants to build a grey modernist box house on a desert hillside underneath blue skies and eucalyptus trees? i'm not saying it's a bad choice, it's just not necessarily the first choice many people would necessarily make when confronted with a building lot on a hillside surrounded by azure skies and eucalyptus trees.
i actually like this grey box house. it's simple and austere and utilitarian and it makes very little sense in it's site/context, but it makes perfect contextual sense in a sprawling urban environment that's fantastically devoid of cohesion.
i mean, a house like this could've been anything. it could've been a beige hairball (as in: coughed up by a predator). or it could've been a norman castle or a spanish hacienda or a mies inspired rectilinear glass box or a lautner spaceship.
it could've been anything. and it's a grey assemblage of boxes and dark windows. which is great, i guess. baffling when scrutinized, but great. cohesion is for sissies.
maybe that's a new slogan for los angeles. along with: 'los angeles, the first city of the apocalypse.'
ok, thanks.
moby
p.s-i'm also including a picture of a giant cross with downtown in the background. it has nothing to do with this house. except that they're in the same neighborhood. ok, thanks again.
