The American Trilogy

Dos Passos: U.S.A – The American Trilogy

I am sitting on an overcrowded train writing this blog; there is, I think, something quite appropriate about this with regards to the topic – for me Dos Passos is a bit like watching Hitchcock’s ‘Rear Window’. It is a work filled with snap-shots;of biographies of celebrities of the day; of news-clip entries and of personal diary style entries chronicling Dos Passos’ growing up. It is a book that provides a snap shot of a generation - of the United States of the 1930’s.

The last part of the trilogy, ‘The Big Money’ contains three biographies that were of particular interest – ‘Tin Lizzie’, about Henry Ford; ‘The Bitter Drink’ about Veblen; and ‘The Architect’ about Frank Lloyd Wright. These three men are treated very differently by Dos Passos. Henry Ford is the most despised. The man who embodied the modern American dream is held accountable for the wanton destruction of the American way of life; an exploiter who destroyed his age and perversely then tried to pretend he had not. Ford it would appear was allowed to spearhead progress unchecked – he is a man portrayed as a naive man who was cunning and ruthless and significantly one who potentially did not fully understand the repercussions of what he craved and created.
Chronologically the next biography considered within this book is concerned with Veblen, a 2nd generation Norwegian American – he is a non conformist and an interesting foil to the character of Henry Ford. Veblen does not seek to become, nor is remotely interested in, the American Dream, or the typical American way of life. Veblen is recalled as a charismatic individual whose disregard for and questioning of the established order ensured that he was not comfortable with life, or life with Veblen. Veblen is the personification of a new spirit that started to emerge in 1930s America that challenged the status quo.

The final biography read was about Frank Lloyd Wright, the Architect. Interestingly in The Big Money, Dos Passos elected to write about a capitalist, a theorist and an architect – who presumably is meant to represent the Arts of 1930s America. All of these biographies are concerned with modernists yet Lloyd Wright, possibly because as an architect his work is less intrusive than car manufacturing, is not criticised as Henry Ford is. Possibly Dos Passos is making the suggestion that in any age style, or what is fashionable, will change; furthermore thinkers are rarely appreciated during their own time – but their opinions should not be dismissed out of hand. However, the capitalist will always remain the most dangerous form of modernist. It is the capitalist who should be most watched and treated with suspicion and perversely he is the one who is allowed to proceed unchecked.

Fountainheads

With hindsight I think that in my blogs I have too often overlooked the figure of the architect within the literature that I have read. I have thought about theory in terms of what I take from it; loosely the figure of the architect is considered as I am penning a response, however with the exception of Professor Silenus in Evelyn Waugh’s ‘Decline and Fall’ I have not explicitly considered how the architect is portrayed. There is an article that I read a couple of years ago which muses about how it is the architect that will be the first one dismissed from the island as they serve no real purpose – they look good and wear funky glasses however they cannot save lives, or souls for that matter – best lose them.

Whilst watching ‘The Fountainheads’ I thought of this article, I thought of the portrayal of the architect, and being a woman I thought of the differences in attitudes towards male and female architects. ‘Fountainhead’ is a book written by Ayn Rand in the early 1940s; it was made into a film a few years later and this is how I approached the work. I enjoyed the film immensely; it tells of one man’s struggle to hold true to his ideals and another man’s struggle to prevent these ideals from flourishing. The central protagonist is an architect, Howard Roark, a thinly disguised Frank Lloyd Wright, who is desperately trying to forge a career which is based on building projects according to his personal vision. Unfortunately for Roark his design for anything is based on a practical, modern way of thinking which does not sit comfortably with the established mock Greek and Roman order of the day. In many ways it is a challenging film for an architect to watch, one which made me question how far would I take my own architectural ideals? – Howard Roark was willing to sacrifice emotional and financial opportunities – would I? Or would I sell out? It was interesting to see the manifestation of the architect who gives their life to their art, compared with the masses of architects who seemingly sell out – including the education facilities who despite operating under a veil of radicalism are actually portrayed as draped in the established order. Whilst doing my Part One at a northern institution my contemporaries and I were instructed to not think of any proposed schemes as personal; there is sense in this advice however it also means that work can become throwaway – you become a sell out. Howard Roark took what he did personally – and for that reason he did not become or create disposable, bland architecture.

In many ways Roark is also a revolutionary - challenging the grain, changing the order fighting for what he believes in and at the end of the film it is he who is put on the plinth, on top of the world – victorious. It is interesting to consider whether the film has relevance today, - I think that it does, and furthermore whether what is shown is an all encompassing view of architecture. I wonder if Howard Roark had been Helen Roark whether the message of the film would get obscured? Fountainhead is more a commentary on the human condition than a film purely about the struggle of an architect, the point is to hold firm to your integrity and you will eventually succeed; regrettably I feel that this is a naive view, or maybe a hopeful view of the way the world works. I wish that it really was this simple.

All that is solid melts into air

Two weeks ago I read Marshall Berman’s ‘All that is solid melts into air’ – I focused in particular on the chapters than were concerned with J.W. Goethe’s ‘Faust’. Though I found Berman’s book to be readable it seemed a far better endeavour to read Faust rather than another person’s interpretation or even summary of the play. Generally I avoid reading plays, the legacy of high school Shakespeare means that I prefer to watch plays; I was therefore surprised by how accessible Faust is. Reading the actual work enabled me to appreciate how influential the play is to all forms of the modern arts; furthermore viewed simply as a piece of literature Faust is immensely enjoyable- the interaction between the protagonists, and the language used mean that belying its Aesop fable style tale of morality the play is quite simply a hoot.

On a serious level it is for me a work about the human condition, about want, need, desire, progress, envy, innocence, lust, greed, beauty, even history – off hand I cannot think of a human emotion not touched upon and I suspect that examples of all of the 7 deadly sins are readily available. At its crux is the tale of a disillusioned man selling his soul to the devil in return for emancipation for want of a better word. There are therefore religious elements to the play – the fight for good and evil, saved and damned but possibly Goethe realised that to write the human condition so well there needed to be a foil, or a pinnacle of one side of the human condition. The devil is the standard by which people are compared; he is not a character designed to be ridiculed or admired- he is simply the devil.

The story of Faust and Gretchen in Part One is a love story, a tragic love story that in many ways is the antithesis of what love actually is. Maybe the characters do display some form of love for each other but from the start it is made very obvious that Faust is infatuated and lusts after Gretchen whilst she is won through gifts and praise. Gretchen however is the innocent corrupted, the virgin soiled, life ruined – she herself murders the child fathered by Faust. The love story in many ways is a forerunner of the more obvious destruction that takes place in later scenes. Faust, if symbolically taken to represent man’s greed or development, is seen as destroyer of the simple, ‘honest’ life. Though this is an extremely simplistic overview of the play there are many subtle nuances which are ignored by this statement. Faust, the modern man, the explorer, developer, educator, scientist is also the destroyer - friend of the devil. It is possible that through Faust Goethe was making a more general statement about how advances in modern life must be seen for what they actually are and not too readily viewed as the answer to all prayers. Though a simple love story Goethe is really able to illustrate the thrust of his play; through his destruction of Gretchen’s life Faust feels little regret, indeed no real lasting regret – he does not learn from his actions but rather relives them on a grander scale. Magic tricks are used to create ghost money to provide false economy to a kingdom – the jewels used to bed Gretchen are used in this way to court an Emperor and allow others to perpetuate the destructive love circle of Faust and Gretchen. Whilst within this Kingdom the greed and almost self delusion of Faust is made evident, he plummets to further lows chasing after Helen of Troy because he lusts after her – despite her being a spirit and dead.

Throughout the play the devil is a source of amusement. Mephistopheles is obviously not to be trusted but he does not tell Faust what to do - he presents opportunities and suggests schemes; he moves the pawns in the play to broker situations but it is left to Faust to determine the course. Characters such as Gretchen do resist the devil but they are destroyed; if taken as development Faust is a force to be reckoned with – one which seemingly cannot be stopped. I wonder actually whether Goethe was not writing a play about the human condition but rather warning mankind about the tendencies of the human condition, this being why this play has had such a lasting legacy and is still very relevant.

Decline and Fall

Decline and Fall

I have recently read Decline and Fall by Evelyn Waugh; it is one of the funniest pieces of early 20th century satire that I have come across. I think that it is a precursor to PG Woodhouse’s novels - a humorous take on the English class system prevalent in the Twenties. It is a book which celebrates the English language - where everything has a meaning, a point, a thought, but it is also a book which at its core has themes of cultural confusion, moral disorientation and societal bedlam.

Interestingly when first published the novel was praised for its ‘almost passionate adherence to the ultra-modern’; in reality this is a most misguided comment as Waugh was a well documented proponent of the traditional. It is through the character of Professor Silenus that the themes of cultural confusion and modernity are discussed. Waugh presents a situation where the old order is torn down and replaced by the modern. Silenus - Le Corbusier in a fictional character’s clothing - is presented as a figure of ridicule but also as a personification of the post war era. The character of Professor Silenus forced me to re-evaluate my personal opinions of Le Corbusier. I had never before considered Le Corbusier in the light of society’s disenchantment with traditional ways in the wake of the Great War; the bonds of history and the established order that were so weakened by the rampant devastation and destruction. Le Corbusier’s thoughts about architecture are entirely logical, the machine age had emerged out of war and society no longer wanted to be associated with ‘before’. Though I have difficulty identifying with ‘the machine for living’ doctrine it is entirely logical and was presumably essential for a society struggling to identify with anything.

Le Corbusier’s attitudes towards architecture are difficult to identify with as we are not in the ‘machine age’. Today in an age of technology - the digital age - Le Corbusier would identify five different points of architecture such as.... actually I am not sure. I think that maybe this is something else that I had not realised about Le Corbusier; it is incredibly difficult to provide an identity for a generation. Le Corbusier gave a style and maybe a new focus to people who needed it. The machine age is not something solely about war and death, but also creation. I think that it is something that I will consider more each time I re-read ‘Decline and Fall’, and this piece must only be viewed as being tentative steps toward a new understanding.

Why Lefebure ought to have listened to Mozart more.

Why Lefebure ought to have listened to Mozart more.

Whilst reading Henri Lefebure I couldn’t help but ponder about composers; it might as usual seem a little tenuous but indulge me. Mozart is one of the most famous composers ever, he used a specific number of notes in a specific way to convey a point, or emotion, mood or attitude – he had an idea and executed it in an way which could be appreciated, understood and learnt from. I find it poor on the other hand that so many ‘theorists’ seem to use words in a way so far removed from that of a composer and his notes; rather than formulating words in such a way so as to create an accessible body of work there seems to be too often the tendency to simply fit as many words into a sentence and therefore confuse any point that they may have been trying to make. I am starting to wonder whether certain theorists actually have a point? Or are they simply playing word bingo with the person using the most words winning. I am glad Lefebure was not a composer.

I do actually believe that Lefebure is trying to make a point; I may be grossly mistaken... It is just a little convoluted. Much of his work I think is simply trying to define language and how specific terminology ought to be applied; for example the term ‘production’. Production is the action of producing something – it does not solely relate to a physical object but is most often used to describe one; production therefore produces products. A product is the result of a process but critically this process is termed production; as long as the same rules are followed the end result or product will essentially be the same regardless of who follows this process. This I feel distinguishes a product from a work; with a work a process may be followed but it allows for individual interpretation. If one compares the water lily paintings of Manet and Monet they are both in an impressionist style, they share a similar location, subject matter, epoch but critically are different to each other. Their work is not a product as with a product there is no variation on end result - these paintings are ‘works’. Monet for example painted many water lily scenes and they are all different because of the ‘individual effect’ . For the record replicas of these works are products and also I consider Duchamp’s toilet to be a work because he signed it; generally though urinals are simply products.

It is however still difficult to categorically state whether a city is a work or a product. I think that within a city there may identifiable ‘bodies of work’ and people who are producing ‘works’ but is it possible to carte blanche state whether a city is simply a product or a work; should each city be viewed independently; should these terms be used in isolation? Furthermore should my attitude towards Nomadic cities, shanty towns or developed cities be different? If I follow through my earlier logic that if a process is followed in specific conditions the end result will not vary then a city cannot be a process; no city has identical development, they are all subjected to the ‘individual effect’; a city is therefore a work. There will be elements within that city that are products, things that may be mass produced, that follow a pre-determined route to reach a specific end goal but ultimately if one considers the city to be the layout, the people, the history, the identity of a place then it surely cannot be seen as anything other than a work. I do concur that space within a city can be produced; that the buildings of one city can be built in another location and that the workforce who are creating a city must see their own involvement as being simply a part of a process. Despite this fact that the workforce actions are more closely linked to creating a product the original vision, masterplan, building, road even have all evolved in a specific way and therefore are no different to Manet and Monet and their paintings of water lilies.

I have started to realise that when considering theory it is a bit like trying to pick wool away from Velcro – everything is interconnected and never cleanly removed and should not be viewed in isolation. Production, products and works are influenced by the individual, the workers, the market, the society, and therefore also by geographic, political, historic and natural events. Maybe this is why so many words are used.

Uncomfortable Armchair Reading - Allen Ginsberg - 'Howl'

I have realised that whatever I write in these blogs is influenced by what is going on around me at that precise moment, but interestingly I seem to create an atmosphere which assists me with my thought processes. Having re-read Allen Ginsberg’s ‘Howl’ I have just started to play Duke Ellington’s take on the Nutcracker suite; there is a link. Poetry is too often thought of as rhyming couplet love sonnets whilst jazz musicians are not expected to play classical ballet scores. Ginsberg’s poem is definitely in the ‘classical’ jazz genre, for me it is a thought provoking piece about modern day life – a non rhyming gritty flash imagery comment about life. It is poetry that should be spoken out loud and not the variety to be sent on perfumed parchment. For me the central theme of Ginsberg’s poem is the disillusionment with modern day life; though the poem was dedicated, it is not about one specific ‘hero’ but rather the many variations of people who are not at ease with life. Initially I thought that the poem was about the many people who are shunned because of their actions; people who for many reasons do not quite fit the mould. However, it is also about the people who have tried to fit the mould. For me it is ultimately a poem about the suffering of man; it is about suicide and life and despair and hope. It is gritty and at times uncomfortable reading.

I think that I ought to expand this thought as this poem creates a persona, or memorial for the crazies who have jumped off the Brooklyn bridge; in a strange way it honours these fallen soldiers for whom life has caused such despair – it is just a thought but maybe I was initially mistaken and the poem is not about the despair of the tormented souls but rather of the poet, and by extension the reader’s despair as they are unable to help or even truly understand the plight. It is the howl of the bystander, the friend, the relative, the poet as well as all the others who despair. I find it a perversely noble poem.

Following this logic, for me the poem cannot be fixed upon the generation for whom it was written; it is transcendent – I read it today, fifty-five years after it was written and can relate and take meaning from it. I suspect that this poem could be appreciated by past, present and future if they were prepared to open up to it as it is not disposable literature – it is steeped with emotion, it spits out thoughts and images – so many variations of despairing, disillusioned, unhinged, tortured, mad people in a modern day developed world are recounted.

This poem could be set and be written for the society of the 1960s; the generation of naked protest; of wide eyed drug induced hippies and the philosopher tramps preaching from cardboard boxes under railway bridges to invisible audiences – there are wide spread photographs. But I find this attitude problematic as it suggests that this raw despair and disillusionment was somehow unique to the sixties. I am sure that people today despair, as they would have done a thousand years ago. The reasons for, the attitudes towards it and the patterns of behaviour displayed may alter – but I am sure all have and will howl.

Leaving Neverland - Air Guitar - David Hickey

Leaving Neverland

I am listening to Miles Davis, the sun is setting and if I close my eyes for just a moment I am there – in a jazz club – no – in a Vegas jazz club, background noise, bourbon, cigars, ice, handshakes and that inevitable haze. I have never been to Vegas. I have no desire to go - I can close my eyes and be transported to a realm where it is still cool. Where the lights of Vegas twinkle and it is not for Celine Dion or Elton John - for me current Vegas strikes me as nothing more than Barry’s Neverland rather than the road-trip destination of Hunter S Thompson.

I found David Hickey’s prologue about his adopted home town fitting into this perception of Neverland; Vegas struck me as a place reminiscent of childhood where there are no responsibilities and for a brief fleeting moment everything and everybody is equal - in this sense an embodiment of the communist ideal. I can only equate Vegas with Nimbin in Australia, where I have been. Nimbin is a place where sixty year old fairies rather than cowboys pound the streets - it is also a place where again people are on this ‘even keel’ and whatever ‘is hidden elsewhere exists here in quotidian visibility’ - I wouldn’t want to go back to Nimbin.

For me these are places where people no longer have multi-faceted aspirations - they exude carpe diem but do not have any depth. Becoming a cocktail waitress is an aspiration but –is this arrogant of me? – it is not my aspiration but it is a goal; it just strikes me as a little soulless. I can admire both Vegas and Nimbin from a distance as they do not pretend to be anything that they are not - but maybe they are not for me as I would rather listen to Miles Davis than chat over him in that hazy venue.

Again I seem to be courting controversy. I am not writing Vegas off; I would not like to reside in a place where establishment is the driver, but actually is Vegas not really some sort of alternate societal hierarchy? David Hickey mentioned that in Vegas people know the odds but maybe he ought to have mentioned that they also know their place? Granted, at the table everyone is equal, apart from the dealer – he is elevated - but the moment one stands up from that table you will know your place. Again, granted that on the street everyone may seem to be on a more even playing field but are they really? Are all doors held open for the same length of time? Are all people allowed into the high rollers’ room, the room that I believe, is separated from the others? Yes the odds when playing cards are the same for everyone, the money that will be lost or won will be of the same green but I have a niggling feeling that although on the floor everyone is on a par, all individuals will know whether they are staying in the penthouse or not. Vegas is a place where people go to as they can become anything, or anybody, a distorted reality – and though for Wendy, John and Michael Darling they all were eager to fly to Neverland, in the end they all left.

I posted this article on another blog on the 20.10.10 it relates to an earlier blog I had published on the 15.10.10. Thought it would be useful to include it on this site

In retrospect it should be stated that Alain Badiou’s article is an incredibly interesting and thought provoking piece. It considers as previously stated a very specific moment in history, printed in Le Monde, in a week when the then French premier warned that the world was ‘on the edge of the abyss’, the week that an emergency summit of EU leaders in Paris was called to establish collective ways of restoring confidence in a failing, and flailing, financial market. Badiou takes no prisoners with his attitude. It is an article which is possibly short of a closing scene where a flag flies behind the ‘saviours’ of the free world - or maybe one which should be accompanied by a series of Gerald Scarf illustrations . It is nevertheless a challenging article and one which I suspect may be interpreted in a variety of ways; mine is an opinion at this moment in time.

It is possible that it is not an article about a financial crisis at all - the crisis is merely a useful back drop which may be used as a platform to discuss the apathy of modern day life. Badiou writes of the ’rich, their servants, their parasites, those who envy them and those who acclaim them’ but not of the protestors; of the spectators not the fighters. Yes, Badiou does write about the main characters who are involved with the banking crisis but not as worthy protagonists - more like puppets, controlled. There seems to be a covert point to the article about the need for the public to become involved, active with life. The cinema metaphor one could view as an encouragement to leave the auditorium, as watching a film does not require societal participation.

Admittedly whilst reading this article I could not determine whether Badiou was in the audience with us or whether he was observing us from the projector room. As mentioned this article originally appeared in Le Monde, a French newspaper, ‘who serve[s] these governments’. It may be for this reason that the article is never explicit, suggestive and provoking yes but never overtly proactive journalism. Neither does Badiou alienate his audience by suggesting that it is life that needs bailing out, but I think that maybe he implies it.

Jonathon Meades’ article is still, as before, an interview with Zaha Hadid. Like Badiou’s piece it is an article displaying clever journalism and one which may be interpreted in a variety of ways. It was published in ‘Intelligent Life’, a quarterly magazine from ‘The Economist’, and not in an architectural journal. This is possibly critical as it gives Meades a ‘fair’ platform on which to disseminate a character. I suspect no English architectural journal would have published this article. It is also written by an individual who is not an architect and so not blinkered by mystique, but maybe this fact also causes a callousness on the part of the interviewer. In many ways it made me think of a game of chess or, strangely, a pack of lions by a watering hole occasionally yawning and bearing their teeth, leaving the observer to wonder when, or if, they may pounce. Is it an article about superiority, an outsider trying to penetrate a ‘smugly hermetic world’. The hermit, hermetic. Regrettably it is an article which does little to open up architecture for the masses. Hadid’s comment that she is actually an artist seems appropriate when many people today claim to have difficulty responding to art. Therefore does this article also carry a covert message that ‘normal’ people are unable to respond to architecture as it has been removed from the public consciousness by individuals who refuse to speak frankly about their work? An art form with too much of an aura surrounding it, where even those at the centre seem vague about the discipline.

What is theory?

For clarity I am not trying to be confrontational, argumentative, blasé, smug or self righteous. I have just re-read the first six pages of Terry Eagleton’s book, ‘theory is dead’; it is difficult to consider what an author is truly saying when you are only seeing a glimpse of his psyche, but overlooking this fact I will continue. These six pages provoked me, aroused a curiosity - they made me consider theory or more specifically what is theory and where exactly is its place in the modern day world and then whether this has changed over time. The word ‘theory’ is often applied in conjunction with another word, as in driving theory, or the theory of black holes, but there is a real distinction with the application of the word. As a word ‘theory’ may be used in relation to a subject where certainty has not been proven but also one which is about fact. This is not a linguistic article; however, this nullifying of the word maybe a reason as to why there is far more disposable theory out there – it is not actually theory, it is an inappropriate use of the word. People are writing more stuff, which may be accessed by more people but really it is just words, convenience style theory – disposable theory – theory that looks good in a gold embossed font on the front of a book so that people on a train may promote the fact that they are reading a book about theory. It is not theory – it is just ideas; although this distinction appears a little tenuous, for me it is critical.

This then promotes another question - where has the theory gone to? Where are all the theorists? I am not saying that there is no new theory out there but simply that it is now difficult to distinguish the woods from the trees. Social theory relies on society – the modern treadmill where people are both insular and exhibitionist in equal measure and seemingly interested in the trivia and banal is potentially the reason as to why theory is being diluted. Can ‘theory’ about why men wear Chelsea boots actually be a social theory? It seems more like an idea to me, but then I must question within modern day life what could be written about that would quantify as theory? I am not sure – but I am not a theorist. Is modern day theory hemmed in by the fact that for many, life has become more vapid and as such social theory has followed suit? It seems that in making ‘theory’ accessible and contemporary it has become dumbed down; this is not meant to appear as being intellectually snobbish. Often theorists were great social commentators, leaders who taught and enlightened – for the majority of pseudo theorists today this is not the case.

Fear and money

Fear and money in Dubai: Mike Davis

Mike Davis is an American commentator, a noted commentator, whose topics though varied are often on fiscal and class matters in America, particularly California. His decision to write an article about the modern day Dubai is interesting as parallels between the two could be surmised.

The idyllic Dubai is portrayed as a mythical kingdom, a utopia, where Odysseus, Cleopatra, Caesar, Nebuchadnezzar II and Houdini would laze under palm trees; Captain Nemo and Sherlock Holmes discussing matters at the poolside with Wayne Rooney whilst Charlie Chaplin provided the entertainment. Throughout the article there is progression, from the mythical to the magical to the staged and ultimately to the pitied. A new religion where money is the baptismal water. Where there is no identity that has been inherited, but many which have been forged. An arrogant self regarding space where history ceases to matter, and heritage becomes something one can imitate on the conveyor belt of the fake.

It is a frightening and humorous article; it chronicles the formation of the modern day Dubai, the potential drivers of its success and also the town’s historical and political context. There is a sense that although Mr Davis sees that things happen for a reason, there is a market for modern day Dubai, and an equal awareness of what has been lost within the transformation – the community that has gone. But was this early community much different? ‘Dubai in the 1980s and early 1990s became the Gulf’s principal dirty-money laundry as well as a bolt hole for some of the region’s most notorious gangsters and terrorists’....

It is here that the point and tone of the article changes. The darkness of Dubai, the hidden cost and the concessions that have been made to lure people in - the myth that clouds the reality is addressed. The suggestion Dubai has links with terrorist factions and that there is an ongoing gross exploitation of people is not normally the picture that is presented of this eastern paradise. The growing distaste towards the city and its attitude towards anything that is not perfect, or wanted, or not part of the master-plan becomes apparent. The town becomes nothing more than Tron controlled by ‘the user’, with individuals within the game not seemingly aware of how they are nothing more than tools.

The article’s suggestion of the alleged lengths that individuals will go to ‘to be number one’ is frightening. History has taught us that behind the illusion, or veil of secrecy, truth will out. Ultimately though history has also taught us that Empires like Rome will fall, consumers will move to the next new shops and maybe Dubai ultimately needs to be fearful.

'What is the reality to which this crisis is spectacle? - Alain Badiou
Interview with Zaha Hadid - Jonathon Meades for Intelligent Life

On first glance there is little to link Alain Badiou and Jonathon Meades. The articles they have written target different audiences were originally written in different langauges and consider different topics. Both however are a discourse on modern day life.
A financial, all encompassing, crisis and a female architect marking the planet in her own manner.

Alain Badiou, author, journalist, political commentator writes of the financial crisis, his piece conveying the sense of abstracted reality associated by many to this 'spectacle'. A cineramic metaphor running through his ironic view of the disaster. It is tongue in cheek writing with Badiou appreciating the far reaching consequences and opprtunities the financial collapse had and arguably still has. An opportunity for people to recapture reality.

Joanthon Meades' article is an interesting foil to Badiou's. It is about an individual who is very present - not simply a spectator; her work part of the fabric of modern day life. It can be argued however that it is also is an article which suggests a particular brand of architecture is distanced from reality - similar to the financial crisis.