Now I'm not drinking, or rather as drinking has become not so much a pleasant physical experience as an anguished mental one, there is nothing like reaching for a Tramadol at around three in the morning. This extraordinary little package does wonders, conjouring a dreamscape of fluffy white clouds (admittedly in my case with a soundtrack of Yes's Starship Trooper) in which to ease the pain, solve problems, connect thoughts, ease delightfully through conundrums and generally feel a fucking sight better in the morning. Last night it presented me, amongst other things, with the reason Leon Krier's work 'looks funny'. Indeed Leon Krier's classicism does 'look funny' to us. This is because, according to Tramadol, it is not Palladian, and the English only really understand Palladian classicism, that conveniently modest (cheap) rip off of the conveniently modest Italian rustic, which the freewheeling capitalists of the C18th thought was just great for just about everything. This also explains why those who worry about architecture can straightforwardly despise Quinlan Terry, who does an understandable Palladian impression, but remain bemused by Leon Krier.....because it might be good, then again it might be awful but it does certainly 'look funny'. Poundbury apparently looks very funny indeed. Ye olde village shoppe is a Budgens.
No comments:
Post a Comment