RANDOM THOUGHTS ON ARCHITECTURE

An interesting tower (above) made doubly interesting because it's back lit by diffused sunlight. If you were an architect, wouldn't it be fun to design structures for foggy places? You could make the case that all climates should have their own unique architecture. Tropical architecture would be a no-brainer, but imagine imagine buildings designed to look good in the snow, or under gloomy, overcast skies.

I do have some misgivings about this picture. If you put your thumb over the tower, the rest of the structure isn't that interesting.



I love stairs and the example above is one of the best I've ever seen. Here the stairs come in rolling, almost musical waves with a promise of profound revelation at the top.

The trouble is, though, that unless you're 12 years-old, long staircases are a chore to climb. Government buildings traditionally have long stairs to remind visitors how insignificant they are. What an odd message to send in a democracy where the people are supposed to be in charge.

I'd be curious to know what Ruskin would have thought of this (above) picture. I know he was against excessive decoration on cathedrals. Even if there's more than a touch of decadence here, relative to the austere, and probably more religiously inspiring cathedrals of an earlier time, I still find the shapes fascinating.

How do you like the high ceilings and wonderful light in this (above) English manor house? The doorway beside it is interesting too, though maybe over done. Doorways are powerful romantic and psychological symbols, and it seems odd to throw all that away in order to emphasize the meaningless space above the door.


A curse on the wretches who tore down beautiful buildings like his one (above) in the last century. I love structures like this, but I still can't help wondering why people spent so much time and money on the roof and upper floors. I mean, why didn't they put the biggest effort into the lower floors, which are more visible from the street?

Maybe the builders were attic enthusiasts. Maybe giant attics and roofs are cheap to build and provide more visual bang for the buck than lower floors. Maybe big attics serve as insulation and heat radiators.


Can you believe that buildings like this (above) were ever torn down?

I love the interlocking shapes of wood at the intersections of beams in Asian temples and old bridges. You see it in modern Western architecture too sometimes, and the effect is always welcome.

DEEPEST MISERY

You sit alone, Ray Brandon.

You sit alone in a house haunted by memories...

...memories of the greatest happiness and yet the deepest misery that you've ever known. But you're not thinking of happiness now, are you? You're thinking of the days in which you made this house ready for Charlotte with your own hands...the days thru which the laughter of an adopted son gave new warmth to your life.

Remember the day when the little boy's tiny hand tweaked your nose?

You laughed and laughed!

Those were indeed golden days.

You're also forcing yourself to remember the dead, lifeless months that followed the return of that child to its real mother, Meta Baur.

They were sad days, weren't they, Ray? In your grief you shut your wife out.

Charlotte kept trying to mend things between you.

But you wouldn't let her in, would you?

You thought you could take love, a woman's feelings, Ray, and tear them apart like a piece of cloth, and try to put the love together again...but the pieces never fit quite the same, do they? No wonder Dr. Mary Leland spoke to you as she did.

And now Charlotte's lying in a hospital after you forced her to return to this house, this wife who stood by you thru the most difficult times of your life.

Yes, she was there when in your grief you chased after other women.

She was there when you fought to clear yourself of a crime you didn't commit, a prison sentense you didn't deserve, a battle to build a career as a lawyer for yourself, a wife who believed in you, gave you encouragement, loved you with every fiber of her being, a wife who was ready to forgive you anything, everything, as long as you loved her.

Ray, do you remember the words of your old rival, Sid Harper?

Sid also loved Charlotte, and nearly married her.

Do his words keep pounding in your brain? "You crucified that girl, Brandon! You treated her like a dog!"

"It's your fault she's in the hospital now!"

"You're a fool! A stupid fool!!!"

"A stupid, stupid fool!"

TO BE CONTINUED.............


BTW: Thanks to Rusty for identifying this as an episode of "The Guiding Light." I don't know the name of the original writer.

WHY WE NEED STEAM LOCOMOTIVES!

I know of no form of land-based personal transportation that's more fun to ride than a horse, but a close second is a glorious, full-blown passenger train pulled by a real steam locomotive. America should be laying track, not ripping it up.

Imagine how bracing it would be to ride in an open flat car with seats, under a canopy of trees like this (above). I did that a few years ago and the experience was so moving that I'll likely never forget it.


It's amazing that a noisy, heavy, industrial product like a locomotive should fit in so well with nature.


Maybe steam trains seem so environmentally friendly because they're confined to a narrow set of tracks, and don't make frequent stops. Maybe it's because the trains seem more like animals than machines. They actually have character. You root for them as they try to negotiate a hill.

Oh bliss!...riding along the treetops...the treetops!...and across a stream on a trestle!

Oddly enough, it's not the steam power by itself that makes trains so appealing. Put the same boiler and funnel on wheels (above) and it seems like a senseless nuisance. For some reason a train has to ride on rails to capture our imaginations.

My guess is that the appeal has to do with the uniquely pleasing and stimulating sounds and motions of steam trains on tracks...that and the terrific visuals. As I said before, steam trains seem to have personalities. There are few other machines you can say that about. I suppose mechanical clocks have a little of that quality. Even toasters have a bit of it.

This business of pleasing sensations derived from things seems like an odd subject to discuss, yet when you think about it, it's not discussed enough. I wish there was a book that catalogued things like this. If there was, then architects and designers could refer to it. Wouldn't it be nice to walk through a building that combined interesting tactile and aural cues with stimulating and romantic visuals? Wouldn't it be nice to have more items and buildings in the world that had appealing personalities?

Here's (above) the Disneyland Express entering a tunnel. Tunnels are so mysterious, and so congenial to trains. They appear like a gateway to another world, like the rabbit hole in "Alice in Wonderland." There should always be lush greenery around a tunnel.

Geez, I have to use Hello Kitty photos to show what the interior of the Disneyland passenger cars look like. It's embarrassing! Anyway, the idea that passengers should face the side is an interesting one.

Disneyland-size steam railroads should be all over the suburbs of our big cities, and they should be used for real, practical transport, not just entertainment. The first city to try this will see a big rise in income from tourists.

I like this photo (above) because it shows how naturally small steam trains fit in with ordinary urban landscapes. Amtrack fails to do this because of the awkward and unimaginative design of the cars.

I stumbled on this photo (above) of a small, rural train platform that's fallen into disuse. Wow! Clean up the tracks and it'll be ready for business again. Let the plants try to cover the platform...it makes for an interesting atmosphere! It's like a train platform in the middle of Jurassic Park. You expect to see raptors!

Once we have steam trains back, we can phase in cool, 0ld-style train stations (above).

I grew up near a beautiful train station like the one above. I and my kid friends had many philosophical discussions while sitting on wooden benches under the platform roof. I especially liked to be there while it was raining, during a thunder and lightening storm. The station sheltered us like a kindly grandfather, and it was bracing to see giant, heavy locomotives hiss and shutter to a stop in the rain.

Why do we moderns deny ourselves the simple pleasures of life? I love high tech...I wish I had a personal jet plane...but I also like horses and small wooden sailboats. Since everybody else likes them too, why don't we re-instate them where ever it's appropriate? Cars are fine, but lets have other kinds of mass transportation too.

SHERLOCK HOLMES' CLUTTERED APARTMENT

I hate to admit this, but the last time I was in London, I went way out of my way to visit Baker Street in the hope of seeing 221B, the home of Sherlock Holmes. Of course I knew that Holmes was a fictional character. I mean, I'm not stupid... I didn't really expect to see him... no, I just thought I'd hang out around there just in case I might get a chance to see him. Please don't try to reason that out. I feel bad enough.

I met a lot of other like-minded people and we all ended up in the Sherlock Holmes Museum, which had a facsimile living room, reconstructed from the information in the books.

I expected to see clutter (that's an average living room of the period above) because that was the fashion in Edwardian England. Someone said that the interior design of that time was meant to trap any dust particle that found its way inside, and prevent it from ever finding it's way outside.

What I didn't expect was the extreme clutter that poor Sherlock had to put up with. No wonder he looks so waxy. You'd look that way too if you had to sit in near darkness all day long, unable to take more than two steps in a straight line. Even with a full time cleaning lady, this was apparently the best he could do.

Here's (above) Sherlock's chemistry corner. The poor guy had to sit on his violin in order to use it.

The chair is ripped. Is that significant? Did one of the stories mention a ripped chair? Geez, poor, poor Sherlock! I feel like passing around a collection plate for him.

Lot's of people leave the museum with the resolve to make their own home as cluttered and interesting as Holmes'. Here's (above) one effort in that direction. I kinda like it. Note the

Buster Keaton death mask on the wall.