First there was Bad Corbu, now I've bought my giant Mies blueprints (IIT 1953) nine of them. A big question is where to put them (one of them). We have some spare wall in the bathroom. Mies is good for bowel movement.
One things for certain, the Mies blueprints, looking pretty good (blue) for 1953 rank nicely with the Bad Corbu for their own individual and inherent problem, this time that they will want to disappear in sunlight. You have, potentially, the ephemeralization of architecture before your very eyes, the whole concept right there. Julie disagrees, she calls them cyanotypes and says they are very hardy indeed. We shall see. I was very interested in the ephemeralization of architecture with my final diploma project, where I realized, long long ago, that architecture was over (somehow) and that we were in the realm of ever smaller consumer impulses (somehow) both physically (devices) and mentally with advertising, so I could hardly bring myself to design anything as substantial as a building at all, and if that was the case, all you could sensibly re-run was..... that icon of everything as nothing, Mies. And as far as I was concerned then, at least you could build a Mies from a single drawing (now I have nine of them!) I only managed two in retrospect.
How clever of me, the inevitable arsehole of youth, and how funny, as the world comes rolling round in that circle game to present me with now, eventually, via e-bay (miniaturized, global communication personified) my own fading final project, thirty odd years on.
It is pertinent to show the drawing below. Note there is a grid line missing and I didn't black in the structure ON PURPOSE (not true). The drawing is sadly long lost, too big to be transported around through nomadic years, and probably still sitting in Trevor Dannatt's office basement. Incidentally, it's for student housing where you had to rent everything on a day to day basis. Sorry the scan is also appropriately filthy, like it's been stuck in an attic.