SPACE OR IMAGE?

ARCHITECT NEUROSIS CONFESSIONS. text by Francesco Gatti

This topic was born spontaneously because of those architects (like myself) whom don’t give a fuck about the final users of their architectures but design only to be published in CityVision and other cool magazines.

Anyway we don’t want to admit we become cynical and superficial helping the invasion of our territories by the “image” killing the “space”, so we tell our self some stories like: “in the meantime I try to emerge producing images, when I become famous enough to catch enlightened clients I can start designing spaces as my teacher told me at school”

sounds cool

and maybe is not even an excuse, maybe we say this from the deep of our heart, but the problem is: once we arrived at destination, we are famous but our heart is missing.

Now I don’t feel my heart anymore but I’m not famous yet. Something went wrong.

I don’t panic, maybe to be heartless is the best condition for being an architect today, to be distant enough to create uncomfortable spaces and absurd art polluted by human bodies.

Is it not this the new barbarians want? Strong uncomfortable impulses to perforate their armed souls? Images easy to digest without loosing too much time on the long digestion of the space?

Yes. I’m a saint and the new barbarians are my heroes, the ones who are creating “the change”.

Are my heroes but unfortunately I wasn’t able to become completely one of them yet and I admit that I would prefer to live in a space designed by Frank Lloyd Wright instead than in a snots of Gehry.

To finish I wanted to say that the delirium isn’t born spontaneously but because is 20 days that I don’t sleep and between the void and the light I’m not sure which one will seduce me tomorrow.

Now please make Radiohead’s Last Flowers start.