Monday, March 28, 2011

Portuguese architect Souto de Moura wins Pritzker

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Portuguese architect Eduardo Souto de Moura, whose buildings are praised for their careful use of natural materials and their unexpected dashes of color, has won the 2011 Pritzker Architecture Prize, the prize's jury announced Monday.

Souto de Moura, 58, join Frank Gehry, Tadao Ando and Renzo Piano in receiving the top honor in the field. He is recognized for the homes, hotels, museums, sports facilities and other structures he has designed, predominantly in Portugal but also in several other European countries.

"Eduardo Souto de Moura's architecture it is not obvious, frivolous or picturesque. It is imbued with intelligence and seriousness," the Pritzker jurors wrote in their citation. "His work requires an intense encounter, not a quick glance. And like poetry, it is able to communicate emotionally to those who take the time to listen."

In past remarks, Souto de Moura has stressed the importance of designing buildings that modestly perform their function and fit in with their surroundings, on both an immediate and a global level.

"There is no ecological architecture, no intelligent architecture, no sustainable architecture — there is only good architecture," he said at a building forum in 2004. "There are always problems we must not neglect. For example, energy, resources, costs, social aspects — one must always pay attention to all these."

Among the projects mentioned by the Pritzker jury was the sports stadium he built into a mountainside in the city of Braga, Portugal, where the European soccer championship was held in 2004.

Jurors characterized the structure as "muscular, monumental and very much at home within its powerful landscape."

The jury also mentioned Souto de Moura's restoration and adaptation of a convent and monastery complex near the northern Portuguese town of Amares.

The project took the Santa Maria Do Bouro Monastery "from rubble to reinterpretation," the jurors wrote. "Souto de Moura has created spaces that are both consistent with their history and modern in conception."

Souto de Moura, who previously worked for 1992's Pritzker laureate Alvaro Siza, began his career as an independent architect in 1980, after winning a design competition for a culture center in his native city of Porto.

Along with his architecture practice, Souto de Moura is a professor at the University of Oporto, and is a visiting professor at Harvard, as well as several European universities.

The formal Pritzker ceremony will be held June 2 at Washington, D.C.'s Andrew W. Mellon auditorium, itself considered one of the finest classical buildings in the United States. Souto de Moura will receive a $100,000 grant and a bronze medallion.

Souto de Moura is the second Pritzker laureate to be chosen from Portugal, after Siza.

"When I received the phone call telling me I was to be the Pritzker laureate, I could hardly believe it," Souto de Moura said in a written statement. "The fact that this is the second time a Portuguese architect has been chosen makes it even more important."

read news clicke here

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Tuesday, March 22, 2011


"A piazza is not a plaza," fumes Piano. "The plaza is the theme park of the piazza; the plaza is the commercial version. A piazza is an empty space with no function. This is what Europeans understand." A space without function allows one to be "in the moment", he says, and to counter what he sees as a major flaw in modern life - the habit of interpreting all experience in the light of achievement, as a means to an end. We should, he thinks, learn to lighten up, and the creation of empty, purposeless spaces within cities might encourage that. "You don't have to struggle to give function to every single corner. You can just wait and see and enjoy."

thank to: Emma Brockes

line... line... line.

thanks to:

Sunday, March 20, 2011


New York '11
thanks to: Sara Laccone

secret view 03

New York '11
thanks to: Sara Laccone

skyline 01

New York '11
thanks to: Sara Laccone

street 21

New York '11
thanks to: Sara Laccone

Japan earthquake '11

BANANA YOSHIMOTO da La Repubblica del 17 marzo 2011

Al momento del terremoto stavo andando a prendere mio figlio a scuola. Guidava mio marito e la potenza della scossa lo ha costretto ad accostare e fermarsi. Dal finestrino dell´auto ho visto i grattacieli ondeggiare in distanza e ho pensato “Sarà un guaio grosso”. Fortunatamente mio figlio era sano e salvo a scuola e siamo tornati a casa con lui senza problemi.
Qualche piccolo danno c´è stato in casa, tipo portafotografie in frantumi e libri caduti a terra dagli scaffali, ma fortunatamente nulla di serio.
Subito un´amica che abita nel nostro quartiere è venuta a offrirci aiuto. Ho accompagnato a casa gente che non poteva rientrare per via dei trasporti pubblici bloccati.
I cellulari non funzionavano così il sistema migliore per ottenere informazioni erano Twitter e Viber. Ci sono state altre scosse di assestamento ma senza danni gravi a Tokyo.
Il problema ora è che, sconvolta dal disastro, la gente ha fatto incetta di beni di consumo quotidiano. Riso, scatolame e carta igienica sono ormai introvabili. E non è facile spostarsi in auto per via dei problemi di rifornimento di carburante.
Il bombardamento di immagini tragiche dello tsunami in TV ha avuto un impatto pesante sulla psicologia della gente. Alcuni media lo hanno capito e sono tornati al palinsesto normale con le ultime notizie che scorrono in sottofondo. Ho trovato questa decisione molto coraggiosa e ho apprezzato molto Tokyo Channel 12, pioniere di questa scelta.
Quanto alla centrale di Fukushima, ancora non mi sono fatta un´idea mia in mezzo ai tanti commenti diversi. Comunque dico solo che mi ha colpito l´alta professionalità dei tecnici giapponesi che stanno facendo tutto il possibile per evitare l´esplosione, invece di chiacchierare su cosa sia giusto o sbagliato. Il mio cuore scoppia di dolore per la morte di tante persone in questo disastro ma vedo gli sforzi della protezione civile nell´opera di salvataggio e la solidarietà tra i sopravvissuti. Non passa giorno senza che io scopra la grandezza del popolo giapponese. Credo che uno scrittore debba portare a tutti speranza in qualunque situazione. Comunque sia non voglio smettere di sorridere, voglio mantenere la mia libertà di pensiero e intendo affrontare con coraggio le avversità.
© 2011 by All rights reserved
Traduzione di Emilia Benghi

Japan earthquake '95

First Published: Kami no kodomo-tachi wa mina odoru, 2000
Translated from the Japanese by Jay Rubin

In the early morning hours of January 16, 1995, a 7.2 earthquake hit the port city of Kobe, Japan, killing over five thousand people, causing billions of dollars worth of damage, and putting 300,000 out of their homes, including the parents of Haruki Murakami. Two months later, the radical Aum Shinrikyo cult carried out a gas attack on the subway system in Tokyo, killing eleven and crippling many others for life. Because of these twin terrors, Murakami, who had lived in the United States for several years, returned to Japan to research and write a nonfiction book entitled Underground: The Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche (2001) on the terrorist attack, filled with accounts of the lives of both survivors and cult members. In Murakami’s book, after the quake, (the small case letters of the titles of the book and the stories) are intentional) six stories explore the seemingly tangential, yet very real, effect of the earthquake on several Japanese characters in February, 1995, the month between the two disasters.

The first story, “ufo in kushiro,” begins with a woman who has spent five days after the quake in front of the television. On the sixth day, when her husband Komura, a salesman at a hi-fi-equipment store in Tokyo, comes home, she has disappeared, leaving him a note saying that although he is good, kind and handsome, living with him is like living with a “chunk of air.” As usual with Murakami’s characters, Komura does not make any emotional reactions to his wife’s departure. When he takes a week off from work, one of his colleagues says that if he will deliver a small package for him to his younger sister in the city of Kushiro he will pay for his airfare and hotel.

When the sister, Keiko, along with a friend Shimao, meet Komura at the airport, he has the strange impression that he is witnessing some moment from the past. He also feels he has not come far even though it was a long journey. These impressions create a transition from everyday life into a mysterious realm of reality typical of many of these stories. When Kieko says he does not think his wife’s departure had anything to do with the earthquake, Shimao says she wonders if things like that aren’t connected somehow. When Komura and Shimao try to have sex, he fails several times because he has been seeing images of the earthquake. He tells her about his wife’s note, and she asks if it is true that there is “nothing” inside him. When he asks what “something” inside of him could be, she tells him that the box he brought contains the “something” inside of him and that he will never get it back. At the end of the story, the most pessimistic in the collection, Kieko understands the emptiness inside himself.

The second story, “landscape with flatiron,” focuses on Junko, a young woman and an older man named Miyake building bonfires on the beach. As Junko watches, she thinks of Jack London’s story “To Build a Fire,” about a man traveling alone in the Alaskan wilderness who cannot get a fire started and freezes to death. She is convinced that the man actually wanted death, even though he had to fight to stay alive. Junko has always felt a “certain something deep down” as she watches the bonfires. Miyake, who is obsessed with the fires, tells her that if you get such a feeling while looking at a fire, it shows the deep, quiet kind of feeling inside you.

Like Komura in the first story, Junko says she is empty, to which Miyake replies that he is an expert on emptiness. After talking about committing suicide together when the fire goes out, Junko goes to sleep and Miyake tells her that when the fire goes out she will feel the cold and wake up whether she wants to or not. In spite of the sense of emptiness, characteristic of other stories in this book, there is also a sense of communion, between the two characters at the end. This mutual understanding thus suggests that it is possible that when the fire goes out, the two will still have each other.

“all god’s children can dance” begins with a man named Yoshiya following a mysterious man with a missing earlobe. Interspersed with accounts of Yoshiya following the man are flashbacks to his childhood, when his mother told him that his father was the Lord, and that one day he will show himself to him if he keeps his faith. Yoshiya is convinced the man with a missing earlobe must be his biological father. When the man gets off the train in an industrial area, he walks like a mechanical doll being drawn by a magnet. The fact that there is no sign of human life and the place looks like an imaginary stage set in a dream is another indication typical of these stories that the main character has entered some alternate dream reality. When Yoshiya follows the man into an empty baseball field, he disappears, and Yoshiya’s acts seem to have no meaning to him; in fact, meaning itself seems to have broken down, never to be the same again. Kneeling on the pitcher’s mound, Yoshiya gives himself up to the flow of time, saying aloud, “Oh God.” Once again, Murakami’s story ends with a sense of emptiness and loneliness; however, because Yoshiya calls out the name of his absent father at the end, there is some ambiguity about whether his discovery is positive or negative.

In “thailand,” a woman named Satsuki goes to a professional conference in Bangkok, Thailand and decides to vacation there for a week with the help of a limo driver and guide named Nimit. The alternate reality theme is introduced when the limo arrives, looking like an object from another world, as if it had dropped from someone’s fantasy. When Nimit asks Satsuki if her hometown of Kyoto, which is not far from Kobe, was much damaged by the quake, she thinks that an unnamed “he” lives in Kobe.” Nimit takes Satsuki to a poor village to meet an eighty-year-old woman fortune-teller who tells Satsuki that there is a stone inside her body and that she must dream of a snake that will remove it or she will die. The old woman also tells Satsuki that the unnamed man in Kobe, obviously a man who has jilted Satsuki in the past, is not dead. Satsuki now recognizes that it is she who is headed toward death. She even thinks that the earthquake may be her fault because she wished for it to kill the man who. As she flies away, she sits in the plane wishing for sleep so her dream will come. Once again, a character is reminded of the emptiness inside the self, but once again also there is some ambiguity about the implications of this realization. If Satsuki has her dream, will she be saved from the hardness of her heart?

The most surreal story in the collection is “super-frog saves tokyo,” which begins Kafka-like with a man named Katagiri finding a giant frog in his apartment who tells him he has come to save Tokyo from destruction from an earthquake. Frog says that he and Katagiri must go underground to do mortal combat with a creature named Worm that gets larger as he absorbs hatred. Frog, quoting Nietzsche, says Katagiri must cheer him on, for fighting is not something he likes to do. When Katagiri tells Frog that he is even less than ordinary and does not see how he can help save Tokyo, Frog says he is trying to save Tokyo for good, ordinary people just like him. However, on the day they are to go underground Katagiri is shot by a man in the street and wakes up in a hospital only to find out there has been no earthquake and that he was not shot at all. Like other characters in these stories, Katagiri has no idea of what is true anymore. When Frog comes to the hospital and tells Katagiri that he did a great job in his dreams, the strange creature begins to break out in boils, out of which come maggots, centipedes, worms and bugs, which fill the room and crawl all over Katagiri. When he wakes up, he knows that Frog saved Tokyo at the cost of his life, for he went back to the mud and will never come again. Then Katagiri falls into a restful, dreamless sleep. Although this is certainly the most Kafkaesque story in the book, it is also one of the most optimistic, for it ends with Katagiri no longer troubled by strange dreams, peaceful in his very ordinariness.

“honey pie,” perhaps the most hopeful story in the book, begins with a man named Junpei telling a story to a child named Sala about a bear named Masakichi, who has no friends and is especially hated by a tough bear named Tonkichi. The child’s mother Sayoko has called Junpei, a writer and a friend, to come and help her because Sala has had another hysterical fits because she believes someone called the Earthquake Man is trying to put her in a little box.

When Junpei, Sayoko, and her husband Takatsuki were close friends at university, Junpei felt that Sayoko was the girl he had been looking for, but because he could never bring himself to express his feelings to her, Takatsuki was the first one to declare his love. After graduation, Junpei becomes a successful short story writer, while Takatsuki gets a job with a newspaper and marries Sayoko. Just before Sala’s second birthday, Takatsuki and Sayoko get a divorce, and Junpei thinks about asking Sayoko to marry him but cannot make up his mind. When Junpei and Sayoko take Sala to a zoo to see the bears, he tells her a story about Tonkichi who trades salmon with Masakichi for his honey, eventually making them best friends. When the salmon disappear, Tonkichi ends up being sent to the zoo.

That evening after dinner Junpei and Sayoko embrace as if nothing has changed since they were nineteen. During the night Sala comes into the bedroom and says the Earthquake Man came and told her that he has a box for everyone. Junpei sleeps on the sofa and looks at the TV, thinking they were inside the TV waiting for the box to open. He thinks that as soon as Sayoko wakes up he will ask her to marry him. He also thinks of a conclusion for the story for Sala; he has Tonkichi bake honey pies, which Masakichi takes to town and sells so they can live as best friends forever. Thinking he now will keep watch over this woman and little girl and never let anyone put them in that crazy box, not even if the earth should crack open, Junpei decides he wants to write stories different from what he has written so far; he wants to write about people who dream and wait. And indeed, this final story in Murakami’s collection is precisely that kind of story--a story that ends with fullness and unity instead of emptiness and separation. Thus, although these stories seem distinct entities, they are interconnected not only by the effect of the Kobe earthquake, but also because they move from meaninglessness to final hope.

thanks to:

Monday, March 14, 2011