whither shall i wander

Marriott House, Flinders, 1954 - Robin Boyd

Frank Lloyd Wright, 1984. 
(formerly known as V.C. Morris shop), San Francisco. 

Kitzbuehel Mansion, splendid architecture (via architizer)

Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret relaxing on the Shukna Lake on a pedal boat manufactured by Pierre Jeanneret, c. 1950. Photo by Sureh Sharma. (via ArchDaily)

I’ve been feeling so down lately, I have no idea what’s wrong. I’ve been struggling with what I’m doing with my life, loneliness, overwhelming feelings of inadequacy, self-hatred and trying to convince myself that it’s not okay to swerve into oncoming traffic.

But then, today, as I recover from a party that ended badly last night, and attempt to complete an assessment that’s due tomorrow and is totally freaking me out, I procrastinated and went searching for the dimensions of pre-cast concrete panels. On my internet travels, I came across the C&A magazine, a publication issued by the Cement, Concrete & Aggregates Association of Australia. Which reminded me of a few years ago when my father brought home one of their first issues, and contained within it was an article about Peter Zumthor’s Bruder Klaus Feldkapelle. Seeing this enclosure, this architecture, it was honestly the first time I’ve actually wanted to make a pilgrimage. It was as if architecture became my religion.

A year and a half later, I was given the opportunity to go on exchange to Germany, a sweet escape from the roller-coaster of emotions that was that year. I stayed in Berlin for two weeks, and a small town near Stuttgart for three. My host sister in Stuttgart decided to take me to Köln for three days, and it was then that I realised the Feldkapelle was located close enough to Köln to be a feasible day trip option. We took a print-out of directions on how to get there, and we were off and away.

We arrived at the station, took a train, took a bus, got off at the wrong stop, got stranded in a small town, had to knock on a stranger’s door to use their phone as there was no cell coverage, order a taxi, wait for the taxi whilst awkwardly drinking tea and talking halted German to a complete stranger. The taxi arrived and we drove away with it, thanking the stranger for their kindness. The taxi driver took us as far as he could, but had to drop us ten minutes walk away from the kapelle due to the snow. So onwards we trudged, through the snow, hands and feet cold and faces swathed in scarves.

And then suddenly nothing else mattered, for on the hill crest there was an apparition of creamy beige, a beacon of warmth in a still wintry landscape. I broke into a run for an unknown reason, as if some part of me knew that what lay in front of me was something very special indeed.

Entering the space felt like I was coming face to face with God.

After standing there for an unmeasurable amount of time, I realised I couldn’t feel my feet, and that the taxi would be waiting, so reluctantly I tore my eyes away from this marvel, and limped back to the car.

It was after this experience that I realised I wanted to do what this building had done, I wanted to create spaces that uplift and heal and affect people positively. After that journey, all I ever wanted to do was architecture. And I think that this is why I’m struggling now, because the architecture that I’m creating physically doesn’t compare at all to the architecture in my head. I know that I’m learning and that there’s still a huge learning curve ahead of me, and that one day maybe I’ll be as good as I want myself to be, but for now I’m failing all expectations and perhaps this is why I am down.

Look out!

I guess that this must be the place.

The Yardmasters’ Building - McBride Charles Ryan

oh ludwig.