Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Secret life of what exactly?

Watching 'The Secret Life of Buildings' was awful. To see the world of architectural criticism reduced to a load of parlour games was embarrassing. Of course all the dreadful ideas must have been dreamt up by a bunch of equally dreadful media types who thought it was 'fun' to find a nice building 'Oooh..The Criterion' and a nasty one 'Ahhh......nasty basement' and dunk Tom Dykhoff in an ice cold bath in each one and see how long he'd last (not long).
Surely the secret life of buildings should be actually exposing the sheer heartbreaking misery of the architectural enterprise from the beginning of time. A certain trickiness in being the architect to Rameses to that of being stuck like a battery hen in a faceless office block in Fitzrovia. There could be good cameo interludes: Le Corbusier cross dressing at a party for instance, or Jim Stirling pissing against Paul Rudolf's windows, but unfortunately they just wanted party tricks, not stories.

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