Modern life

SATORI ON LOCUST STREET

With apologies to Jack Kerouac. In Satori in Paris, one of his last books, he describes the Japanese word satori, or sudden illumination, as a “kick in the head.” Précisement! I was sitting in an Uber, being driven down Locust Street. We passed by a building, probably built in the 1960s, a handsome composition in brick and precast concrete trim. Not bad, I thought, at least it’s not just glass, which seems to be the one-note tune played by architects today. A few seconds later we drove by another building, likewise a medical something—we were in a hospital district.

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A WRECKING BALL TOO FAR

Jonah Goldberg has an interesting podcast on the current imbroglio over the demolition of the White House East Wing. The East Wing was built by Theodore Roosevelt in 1902, expanded by FDR in 1942 (partly to conceal an air raid shelter), and further enlarged by Richard Nixon, so this is not really about preserving history. Goldberg maintains that the demolition is important not because of the hysterical reaction of so much of the media and of the left in general, but rather because of the effect that the images of demolition have on the public in general. People always stop and stare when they pass by a demolition site.

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MAKE ME AN ANGEL

 I’ve been re-watching that excellent TV series, Ozark. The last episode included one of the characters—actually his ghost, there’s a lot of dead people in Ozark—singing a song whose melody was familiar although I couldn’t place it immediately. It was John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery.” The mournful music evoked my Shirley, who loved Prine. I think it was his ironic lack of sentimentality that appealed to her. She also liked Joe Cocker, Randy Newman, Blossom Dearie, anything by Cole Porter. And Janis, whom she heard at Woodstock.

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A HUNGARIAN ARCHITECT IN AMERICA

I watched The Brutalist yesterday. My reaction? An implausible story poorly told and awkwardly stitched together; the Holocaust connection seemed gratuitous; a ham-handedly written script, the audience actually snickered at some of more pompous utterances of the Guy Pearce character; distracting bursts of portentous music at odd moments; and glitches, like Tóth saying square meters when he knows his audience understands only square feet, or producing the kind of expressionistic sketches that are out of character for a Bauhaus-trained architect—more like something the great Eric Mendelsohn would draw. As for the title, while Tóth was definitely brutalized, it made no sense to me,

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CLICK, CLICK, CLICK

My first computer, we’re talking 1983, was an Osborne 1. It was billed as a portable, in the sense that it was designed to take a beating, and you could carry it around—well, not far, it was the size of a sewing machine and weighed twenty-five pounds. It had two drives for floppy discs and a monochrome screen that was smaller than a postcard. No battery and no fan. The design had a no-nonsense military feel, like an Army jeep. On top of that the $1,795 price included bundled software: CP/M, WordStar, and SuperCalc. But what I liked most about it was the full-size keyboard,

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THE NEW YORK POST RECOMMENDS

On a list of the “best books to gift to the readers in your life this Christmas,” the New York Post includes The Driving Machine which shares a spot among the nonfiction picks with Erik Larson and Malcolm Gladwell. “Acclaimed design writer Rybczynski traces the evolution of automobile, from Carl Benz’s three-wheel motorcar in 1885 to modern EVs. On the journey, he stops to focus on various icons, such as Ford’s Model T, the VW bus, the Mini Cooper and even, gasp, a Chrysler minivan.”

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SLUM CADILLACS

Back in 1978 I took part in Stewart Brand’s Whole Earth Jamboree. The deal was you could speak about any subject you wanted, but for no more than 5 minutes. Here is what I said.

I’d like to talk to you today about slum Cadillacs and technological incongruity. In the 50s it was quite fashionable to study slums and the people who lived in them. One of the startling facts that came out of those studies was that a lot of poor people drive Cadillacs. What’s interesting is the kind of reaction that people gave to this fact.

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BACK TO THE FUTURE

A friend asked me what I thought of the design of the recently unveiled Tesla Cybercab. The BBC website called the car “futuristic-looking,” perhaps because it has a sleek body and gull-wing doors. The latter are better described as “backward-looking,” since they were first introduced by Mercedes-Benz 70 years ago, and had a brief—very brief—revival in the 1981 De Lorean. I haven’t seen a Cybercab, only photographs, but the question made me think of EV car design in general. It strikes me that the “problems” that EV design is solving often remain murky. The unpleasantly delicate door handles of Teslas,

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