I first came across Andreas Gursky’s work when I saw two of his photographs at the Constructing Worlds exhibition at the Barbican in 2014. Before I even read the caption of “Montparnasse” (left in the image below) which explained how the picture was processed, I knew it had undergone some sort of digital manipulation. Both the human eye and the camera lens distort the image at the ends therefore the building could never be seen as perfectly square as it looks. Later on I read that one of Gursky’s firm beliefs is that: “Reality can only be shown by constructing it, montage and manipulation paradoxically bring us “closer to the truth”.


The philosophical question that inevitably comes right after is: what is truth? How do we define it and, ultimately is it really that important.

Bear with me in this seemingly unrelated mention of the Acropolis, or to be more precise the Parthenon in Athens, which has been pronounced the most perfect temple ever built since ancient times. This is mainly because of the optical corrections that the ancients invented when they realised that the eye naturally distorts what it sees, therefore no line can be seen as straight. Except if it is not straight.


In fact if the distortion is inverted, and the line is bent the opposite way of how our eyes capture it, the brain is tricked into thinking it is straight. The Parthenon looks perfect because it has no straight lines and all its components are slightly distorted. In other words perfection is achieved through deceit.


Because of my architectural training this is how I read the way that Andreas Gursky chooses to focus his interests. And it is rather obvious that I really like his pictures.

Of course their large scale which invokes a sense of awe to the viewer also plays a part. Regardless of what the curators of this exhibition say about Gursky’s work “challenging our ideas of how photography represents reality”, even if we do not choose to work our brains hard on philosophical questions, these photographs are also simply spectacular to look at.


And they do sum up in a straightforward visual manner, many issues that have to do with the environment, architecture, the concept of collective existence, art and fashion. They also deal with more politically charged issues that have to do with capitalism, mass production, pollution and deterioration of natural resources.


Finally there are images that seem more cryptic, like the ceiling of an airport or the blow-up of a grey carpet. One wonders if these photographs have been created in appreciation of geometry and texture or if they are a quasi-philosophical exploration with zen nuances.

One thing is certain: that Gursky’s pictures are very appealing because of both their scale and their themes that fluctuate between absolute simplicity and obscure abstraction.


One may choose a secondary reading into them or just enjoy their visual qualities. However architecture is very present in the majority of these photographs. Which proves the way that the man-made environment and architecture provide much more than a backdrop for life.

Through many of these pictures is clear that architecture is a product of the politics that create it and in its turn it affects deeply the people whose lives unfold within it.


Gursky has said about photography that it is not just a way to document the world, but rather a way to represent his own ideas about it. His sceptical position against impartial documentation (if there is such a thing) is proven by his very personal view of what he sees around him. A view that we are also invited to share by observing his pictures. But somehow, this very subjective view of things touches a chord in many people. It is not clear to me if this is because most people see its importance similar to what happens with classical music for example, or if it is because it speaks an easy language that is clear to most, in a way that pop culture does. Both or neither, this is an exhibition not to be missed.


The exhibition will be on until the 22nd of April 2018

Visit Hayward Gallery’s website here


Top Left: “Love motion” by Rhys Coren/ Top Right: “Child Hood2 by Collectif coin/ Bottom photos: “Spectral” By Katarzyna Maljka and Joachim Stugocki.


Lumiere London was an interesting experience. It was very cold on both nights that I went and all traffic was stopped in most major West End streets. So we could all walk in the middle of the street and have a totally different perspective of the city. An anarchic pattern of movement emerged that was not dictated by cars and traffic but from the random trajectories of people.

Walking down Regent street towards Piccadilly Circus I was even reminded of 28 days later because of the car-less streets. Still, regardless of the fact that we were not moving according to the usual London rules, we were as consumerist as ever.


Left: “Was that a dream” by Cedric Le Borgne/ Middle: View of Regent Street/ Right: “Harmonic portal” by Christ Plant

Once I had started visiting the sites there was no stopping me. I had to see them all, as if I was collecting them, and so were a lot of others with maps or their special lumiere apps on their phones. There were also plenty of photographers with tripods looking very serious. In fact at Piccadilly Circus I saw a man filming “Voyage” (by Camille Griss and Leslie Epsztein) with both a camera on a tripod and a smart phone, looking at the two screens simultaneously.

I have strong suspicions that this person did not engage emotionally with with the art. A sign of our times where people photograph their food when they go to a restaurant to the point that they forget to eat it while it is still warm.


Left: “Reflektor” by Studio Roso/ Middle: “IFO” by Jacques Rival/ Right: “Lampounette” by Tilt

Some of the people were looking at the lights but most were looking at them through their lenses or on their phone screens. Which explains how often art and architecture, look better on pictures than they do in reality. There is no doubt that something being photogenic adds to its value and marketability.

So, some of the lumiere exhibits photographed well but did not produce a memorable experienced immediately. Some were both compelling in person as they were on “film” and a few of them were hardly noticeable in pictures but the actual experience was magical when there. Like [M]ondes by Atsara on Mount Street Gardens in Mayfair. Lines of light were projected on a building’s façade through a cluster of tense wires giving the effect of fireflies. The experience was enhanced because in the background one could faintly hear the sound of another installation, Illumaphonium (by Michael Davis) 

where the viewers interacted with the exhibit to produce a sweet soundtrack that reminded me of summer nights by the beach, when actually I was literally freezing.


Left: “Origin of the World bubble” by Miguel Chevalier/Middle photos: “[M]ondes” by Atsara/ Right: “Illumaphonium” by Michael Davis

Another of my favourite installations, was the one I encountered the following day at the rather sci-fi environment of Kings’ Cross. It was Aether (by Architecture Social Club and Max Cooper) where lights were projected from two sources on a grid of metal rods accompanied by an electronic soundtrack.

King’s Cross’ large housing blocks around which the exhibits were located, were more impressive than the art itself though. They looked as if they grew out of the ground all at the same time like the buildings in Terry Gilliam’s Brazil dream sequence. They are orderly and new but they lacked the strange refinement of cities which emerge organically and not as part of an incredibly expensive project.

I was looking at the art and thinking of politics and regeneration. What was the meaning of this elaborate gesture in art installations? The traffic was stopped which definitely had an effect on commerce. Was this advertising for the sponsors? Or was the whole shebang aiming to brand London, making it a unique tourist destination which competes with the other European cities.


Top Left: “Waterlicht” by Daan Roosegaarde/ Top right: “Aether” by Architecture Social Club with Max Cooper/ Bottom Left: ” Bottle Festoon” by Community patrners across London Boroughs/ Bottom Right: “Entre les rangs” by Rami Bebawi/ Kanva

On Piccadilly Circus the organisers did not or could not turn off the lights of the massive video billboards right next to “Voyage”. The eye was inevitably drawn to them as they were much brighter. The art seemed almost irrelevant and faded compared to the power of the advertisement. And that was rather symbolic of the city as an unstoppable machine with its purpose, above all, to urge us to consume.


Top Left: “Grabber” by Mader Wiermann/ Top Right “Dot” by Phillippe Morvan/ Bottom Right: “Voyage” by Camille Bross and Leslie Epsztein


When I first came across this exhibition of Paul Catherall’s linocut prints, I was drawn to it by its theme. Brutalism is a staple for architects along with the colour grey, black clothes and weird glass frames. Following my regular style of not researching what I was going to see, I entered Eames Fine Art Gallery.  The first impression was good and weirdly familiar. It was only when I went back home and looked into the artist’s work that I realised I had seen posters of his prints in the tube.


Catherall’s work is focused on London and it is beautiful but also legible. His choice of colour is often unpredictable and surreal but the landmarks are recognisable. Therefore it was not a surprise that TFL commissioned him for a series of posters that highlight these landmarks and their accessibility by London Transport.


Some of the prints in the Brutalism exhibition are more abstract than others and even though I like his work in general, these abstract ones were more interesting to me. Shapes and surfaces of the Hayward Gallery, Southbank Centre and the Lloyd’s building have been de-constructed and recomposed with the use of vibrant colours in a very inspiring way.

After reading a couple of interviews of the artist, I understood better his ethos and how it is related to architecture. Architecture is a practical, literally down to earth, art. Architects create buildings that need to be inhabited and used by people. This is, or rather should be, their first priority. Sometimes when the architecture is really really good, it suggests new ways of moving through space or even living. It can be inspiring and uplifting, but it always has to follow some rules. It needs to provide a safe environment that accommodates people’s needs and quite often, this very restriction is the source of its beauty.


Architects who have aspired to create high art by disregarding people’s needs enter a territory of thin ice. Their appropriation of the building as their own artistic creation is merely a proof of their conceitedness and self absorption. Architecture’s success should be measured by the user’s happiness not the architect’s need for self expression.

When Paul Catherall speaks about enjoying his commissions regardless of the restrictions that they pose, like their need to be legible and relatable, I see his fascination with architecture and also why architects enjoy his prints.


Naturally not all art has to be like that. In fact we need controversial art that defies all rules and tests the boundaries, especially in a world that becomes increasingly conservative and close-minded. However the world needs less self-absorbed artists who care only about themselves and more like Paul Catherall who is devoted to his craft and enjoys communicating that with others.

Maybe I enjoyed this work a lot because it was a exhibition full of buildings in strange colours and I am after all an architect, I cannot help myself. Anyway, if you are south of the river during this weekend, go have a look. You only have a couple of days left.


Eames Fine Art Gallery’s is on

58 Bermondsey Street



Documenta is an art exhibition that has been organised and presented in Kassel, Germany, every 5 years since 1955. The reason behind the very first one was to disperse Germany’s cultural darkness due to Nazism after the war. Through the years though it has developed into one of the most important exhibitions of contemporary art worldwide, possibly because of its non-commercial nature. Usually the event is curated towards exploring a specific political, cultural or sociological theme, for example feminism or migration.

Documenta aims to showcase the work of artists from all around the world and regardless of the fact that its centre has always been in Kassel, the latest exhibition’s concept evolved around the idea of moving the whole event in Athens, Greece. Adam Szymczyk the artistic director of Documenta had been coming and staying in Greece for a number of years, as have many artists from all over the world who are drawn to it by the popular idea that Athens is the new artistic centre of Europe.



To be precise Athens has been referred to as the new Berlin so often that the local street artists write graffiti that reads: “This is NOT the new Berlin” or “Athens is the new Athens”. However the name of the exhibition was decided to be “Learning from Athens”. A contradictory title that along with the absence of representation of a large number of Greek artists, infuriated a significant part of the Greek scene. The exhibition has only a couple of days left before the Athens part is finished (the Kassel part will be open until September 17) but I believe there is much to be said still about it, especially since its creative director has stated that the organisation hopes to “leave something behind it that the city can profit from”.


Looking into the matter first from the aspect of Athens becoming the coveted place where artists, (especially those from other countries) want to go and live at, the possible results are rather daunting. Being Greek but having lived in London for a decade myself, I have witnessed artists relocating as a first sign of gentrification. The artists choose areas where rents are cheap and the environment feels genuine and inspiring. Then the real-estate agents follow, the area slowly gets a make-over and is sold to a high price to people who can afford it. Simplistic but telling description of gentrification in a couple of phrases. With the way things have developed in Greece for the last few years, one can only wonder if that could ever expand to the scale of a city, or even a whole country.



When I think about the title of the exhibition, “Learning from Athens” again I cannot but wonder, what does it really mean. Athens is a city full of contradictions. It always carries the massively heavy burden of its past, the one that gave to the world the masterpiece of the Acropolis and the concept of Democracy. It also occupies awkwardly a crossroads position between the Eastern and the Western world, being part of Europe but parading with pride a misogynistic, macho, god-fearing religious culture. On top of all of that, on top of the blue sky, the long summers and an always vibrant nightlife, lands the CRISIS. In capital letters because it can be nothing but capital (pun intended) what has changed the lives of all Greeks. The Greeks who have been mocked and criticised by the entire world for not being able to deal with their debt, when the power play of banks and rich nations have been plotting against them. Nor being able to deal with the burden of the leftish revolution that the world expected with Syriza coming to power or the pseudo-Grexit referendum. And then the Syrian refugee influx and entrapment in a country of zero ability to deal with the problem has thickened the plot, increasing both the solidarity and self-organisation but on the other hand heightening the power and righteousness of far-right nationalist parties like Golden Dawn.



In the middle of all that chaos lands Documenta 14 that wants to “Learn from Athens”. Wants to learn from a city which manages to look like it deals with all that and actually has fun as well. “How come the bars and restaurants and cafes are still open and people are having fun?”, “How is it possible that people get on with their lives wrapped in riots, tear gas, graffiti and vandalism?”, the universal scene seems to wonder. How can they be in so much trouble and still seem so cool? This is what they really want to learn. This cannot be learned though, much as they try. Coming to look at Athens from the outside, or even for a few months (maybe even years) from the ‘inside’, is as futile as trying to grasp what it is to be a lion, by observing it in its cage, in the zoo.



I can attest to that, after living for 10 years in London I have a vague idea about Britishness but I cannot really explain what it is to be British. Of course I did not come here from a position of power, with any imported funds. I did not come to London to advertise any supposed superiority in life’s wisdom quoting Anthony Quinn impersonating Zorba the Greek. “Boss, life is trouble, only death is not”.

Going through the galleries of Documenta 14 in Athens I run into many artist friends of mine working as invigilators or gallery assistants. I was pleased to see them and they all told me how they felt excited to be around all that international art and also to have finally a steadily paid job, even if it was only for 4 months. Of course I knew that they would rather be on the other side, that of the celebrated artist sipping wine at the opening, but alas, they were the help.



Adam Szymczyk said at the announcement of Athens as the Documenta location that he wants to leave something behind. Much as I enjoyed strolling through the galleries with my friends, “inhaling” this abundance of art that was mostly imported; supposedly to learn from us but really to subtly patronise us, I was reminded of the 2004 Olympic games. Where so much money was spent into building new sites that were afterwards only left there to rot and crumble.

That was not an exhibition about Athens, it just happened to be there.



Documenta website

An interesting article I read about Documenta

Athenian Panopticon by Iason Athanasiadis

An article in Greek:

Αθηνόραμα : Τα επόμενα χρόνια όλος ο κόσμος της τέχνης θα μιλάει για την Αθήνα της Δέσποινας Ζευκιλή

BBC article:

Can Athens become Europe’s new arts capital



Going to Lea Anderson’s retrospective performance at the V&A Hand in Glove, I never thought I would be writing about it on my architectural blog. How could dance be ever associated with architecture? Architecture is made of solid elements that define space and create empty vessels for bodies to conduct their lives in. It protect us from the clutter of the world and the elements of nature so that we can cross out things in the list of must-dos-to-survive. What is taken for granted though is that the empty space is usually available for the people to occupy with their volume. What happens when space has to be fought for, and it is not defined by solid elements like walls or roofs?


This often happens in market places, concert halls, music clubs, stations. Lea Anderson’s performance was for me a study on how one achieves space-creation via movement.  The space that the body occupies can be claimed from nothing else. And as it moves each body moulds a trace of itself. What if this space does not exist because other bodies have taken it?


Nude Descending a Staircase, No.2 by Marcel Duchamp

In Hand in Glove the dancers’ bodies had to claim their space from the audience, who was there to see them. A complex combination of admiration and antagonism.


Being in the V&A room where the performance took place one had to negotiate their position and it was not exactly clear what was each person’s agenda either. Possibly the negotiation, or at times even confrontation of the performance, had a very deliberate raison d’etre. Most of the dance pieces presented in the retrospective, obviously speak about gender making a political statement of sorts.  However this was done by means of space negotiation something that resonated with me as an occupational hazard.


It made me think of personal orientation and the primordial action of standing up. Somehow the symbolic action of placing oneself in space with intention is also a symbolic gesture of self-realisation. Being a tai chi practitioner for many years I have realised the importance of assuming one’s space with awareness of one’s state, position in space, relation to other elements and people around. Every movement in space ultimately is such a negotiation. When in public inside our cities we co-exist with others want it or not and have to find a way to do so. It is not relationships which I am interested in here as I contemplate this balancing act, it is the importance of space in negotiating relationships.


In public spaces like the ones mentioned above, concert halls, stations and airports, market places, the “other” body is almost unimportant. It is someone who is potentially in your way of getting where you want to go. In this play though the “other” who is next to you and whom you are “fighting” with to claim your position is also the one who you have come to actually see perform.


I have been to similar shows where performers were free-moving within the crowd and of course it is no great novelty. Actually in theatre performances where the actors are supposed to interact with the audience this freedom of movement, I must confess, made me more stressed than happy. Hand in Glove was flowing though. There was confrontation, but there was also respect. There were lack of boundaries but some boundaries also existed. There was no stress, no violence, no uncomfortable feelings. It seemed there existed a flexible barrier able to include but also separate. A beautiful concept to meditate and build upon in the use of any space really.


20 Fenchurch Street Tower or Walkie Talkie as it is usually referred as is not far from where I live. I watched it go up slowly for years and I never particularly liked it. To be more accurate I actually always disliked it. Every time I cycle west down Whitechapel Road it dominates the skyline totally filling up the horizon.

20 Fenchurch building seen by Whitechapel street and Algate East. Dominating the horizon

20 Fenchurch building seen by Whitechapel Road and Algate East. Dominating the horizon

As it was being built I realised that it was flaring up the taller it became. For a little while I appreciated its geometry and was rather intrigued by the potentially interesting engineering calculations it required. However when I came across the drawing of the original idea and saw how much taller it was supposed to be it occurred to me that there was something wrong with its proportions. Proportions determine a building’s scale hence are extremely important.

The Walkie Talkie hovering over the street

The Walkie Talkie hovering over the street

Therefore if a building is ultimately constructed shorter and wider than its original design, it shows. And this is just one of the conclusions that one comes to by examining Walkie Talkie superficially, as a sculptural object. Something which I always find secondary in critiquing a high-rise.

Going up to the higher part of the "garden"

Going up to the higher part of the “garden”

Researching a bit the building’s Skygarden I discovered that it was not part of the original concept. The tower which is not situated in the part of the City where all the other high-rises are, was at first denied planning permission. The case was eventually reviewed and permission was granted because the architect pledged to give the top floor to the public. A smart and cheeky move. I am usually put off by investors’ justifications. Especially when they advertise their generosity which is often a calculated move in order to get their way.

Another interesting fact about Walkie Talkie is that the true reason for the building getting larger in plan towards the top, had nothing to do with creativity and architectural inspiration. It was mainly a smart idea in order to increase the rentable floor space of the upper floors where it is considerably more expensive. The skygarden was the idea that helped the project go through but profit was again in the heart of that decision. A large part of the top floor’s space is occupied by private restaurants.

The restaurants dividing the "garden" in half. Bulky and disproportionate volumes

The restaurants dividing the “garden” in half. Bulky and disproportionate volumes

The garden is divided in half by the bulky volume of the restaurants and is reduced to two sloping areas where the plants are placed. The sitting areas are basically a couple of small seats in the middle of these slopes. In case they are found empty, they are impossible to enjoy as they are constantly coveted by the hundreds of visitors.

The very few sitting areas cannot really be enjoyed by anyone. A fact that beats the whole purpose of naming the place "Skygarden"

The very few sitting areas cannot really be enjoyed by anyone. A fact that beats the whole purpose of naming the place “Skygarden”

Places like this, especially when there is a deadline in the time that one is allowed to stay there, make relaxing there extremely difficult. Ultimately this is a space to be consumed. It exists to go see and maybe take a selfie at, in order to be able to say, “been there done that”.

Of course there is the view, which is undeniable. Any 360 view from a high building is always fascinating. Even from this particular building which most people find rather ugly. The proportions are wrong the detailing is wrong, it feels clumsy and crude and somehow pretentious.

The building is rather crudely detailed. Lacks elegance but offers some good views

The building is rather crudely detailed. Lacks elegance but offers some good views

And to top all that, it melted a couple of cars and set the carpet of a shop across the street on fire with the beam of sunlight that was reflected off it before its brise-soleil panels were installed. Later on its architect Rafael Viñoly stated that he remembered London less sunny which to say the least seems like a ridiculous excuse for the poorly thought out implications of the building’s geometry.

Diagram of how the reflected sunbeams (also known as the deathray) melted parked cars and burned shop carpets

Diagram of how the reflected sunbeams (also known as the deathray) melted parked cars and burned shop carpets

The experience of visiting Skygarden did not leave an indelible impression in my memory. Yes it was free which was good but one has to book in advance, bring a photo ID and go through the airport-like security of x-rays and metal detectors. The hostesses in fake fur that check the IDs and give information look like airline hostesses giving a sexualised 60’s air to the experience that made me rather uncomfortable.

The hostess the metal detector and what you see as you come out of the elevator

The hostess the metal detector and what you see as you come out of the elevator

Once upstairs I did not go immediately to the terrace as most people do. Instead I felt the need to check out first the “garden” which in fact is not visible when you first step out of the elevator. Going up the steps towards the higher level of the “garden” I had what I call “a Planet of the Apes moment”.

My "Planet of the Apes" moment. When it crossed my mind that we are nearing the end of civilisation

My “Planet of the Apes” moment. Seeing the top of other skyscrapers through the plants

Seeing the Gherkin and the Cheesegrater towers through the plants, reminded me of the classic science fiction film when the protagonists realise that the end of civilisation has occurred as soon as they see the remains of the statue of Liberty. The top of the towers through the plants was a similarly compelling image.

Inside the sky garden the restaurant balcony looks like the desert

Inside the sky garden the restaurant balcony looks like the desert

After that I went further up at the restaurant’s terrace which is shockingly bare. What garden? That was the desert. So sad, empty and disorientating, as far away from the concept of the garden as possible. The whole experience seemed more of a hoax. Eventually I went outside to the terrace where I enjoyed my 15 minutes of false superiority that any visit to a skyscraper ultimately is all about.

20 Fenchurch Street's terrace experience

20 Fenchurch Street’s terrace experience

Once again I got to think about how twisted the whole concept of public space is getting to be. This place is as public as any London square owned by a private company that you can quietly stay in if you obey a set of rules of behaviour. No skating, no smoking, no protesting, no rough sleeping and who knows what else. Public space seems to be turning into a plane of restrictions which slowly but surely squeezes the freedom out of our lives. This is not as science-fiction-like as it seemed during my Planet of the Apes moment. Slowly but surely the only thing allowed in these so-called-public places will be to marvel at capitalism’s overwhelming superiority, solidified in scary tall buildings that the masses will be able to admire from a distance.

Book your visit to the Skygarden here


The first time I saw M by Montcalm I was cycling. The building is situated on City road really close to Old Street’s roundabout which is one of the places with the most cyclist casualties in London. Keeping this in mind I always pay extra attention when I am there. That particular day I exited the roundabout successfully and almost had a heart attack at the sight of this new building hovering over me. Later on when I found out it was a hotel called M by Montcalm, I could not help but be amused as its angular and rather distorted façade looks anything but calm.

Left: Old Street roundabout / Middle: M by Montcalm from the beginning of City Road

Left: Old Street roundabout / Middle: M by Montcalm from the beginning of City Road

Being a huge fan of comic books and science fiction I would not be 100% truthful if I said I hated it, because I did not. It immediately brought to my mind Gotham City and Blade Runner. What respectable graphic novel enthusiast would not enjoy something that seems to come out of a book or a film which has been the centre of many a daydreams.


However the root of my aesthetic satisfaction was also the source of problems for this building which has an out-of-this-world quality. I believe it looks like some funfair ride or a film set. Probably its façade’s geometry is not the only reason for that. The materials chosen play some part too. The finish of the cladding for example gives to it a rather precarious and not exactly sturdy character.


Attempting to find out more about this building I was at a loss with the absolute lack of information available about it. Who exactly designed it? No one seems to be claiming it even though on the Montcalm website it is repeatedly mentioned that an award winning firm is responsible for it. However its name is not stated, why? Eventually due to one of my readers that left me a comment under a previous version of this article I found out the company behind the design and the construction of this building was Squire and Partners. You can have a look on their webpage where they explain the concept here

Moorfields Eye Hospital which is exactly opposite M by Montcalm

Moorfields Eye Hospital which is exactly opposite M by Montcalm

M by Montcalm is betting heavily on the area being branded as Tech City, a technological start-up apparently third in the world in size after San Francisco and New York. Tech City has received funding in order to boost the companies it hosts which mainly develop new technologies. Google’s headquarters are not far from here for example. I guess the hotel expects to attract many guests related to Tech City’s companies.

Unfortunately the building is not yet finished and I could not enter it. Admittedly I am quite curious to see if the interiors are even remotely influenced by its exterior appearance. I would be quite disappointed and not exactly surprised if they were not. Judging from the hotel’s website it does not seem that the interior spaces mirror the exterior. Naturally in case they were, the hotel might have looked even more like a fun fair ride. However it would have been a proof that there was some sort of concise architectural concept behind it and not only an aesthetic gimmick.

Middle : Old Street roundabout from M by Montcalm

Middle : Old Street roundabout from M by Montcalm

Which leads this train of thought to the inevitable consideration of the effect of a building’s appearance to the street and the responsibility the architects have on account of it. This debate is a never ending one since the beginning of the history of architecture. Naturally there could never exist one absolute truth. Aesthetics are subjective and no one can pronounce they have created a building that is objectively beautiful. Every new addition to any street is a reminder of boundaries between public and private and can initiate discussions about matters of taste but most importantly motives behind aesthetic choices. The beauty of architecture as an art largely derives from the fact that it brings together necessity and technology wrapped in the amalgam of a designer’s and a client’s taste. Matters get much more complicated when the client is the state which has specific agendas to push or (as contemporary economies have it), faceless companies which mainly chase after profit. Montcalm with its luxury hotel branding has contributed this building to the streets. I often think like most designers do, that bold is better than boring. But this is only one angle of looking at things.


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