red ink, xrefs, and attitude
Thursday, July 26, 2007
  dear architect...
Written by Annie Choi, the ‘open letter’ was published in Pidgin Magazine - a publication of the graduate students of the Princeton School of Architecture [for sale - looks like it could be siiick] - and is HILARIOUS.
Enjoy.

Once, a long time ago in the days of yore, I had a friend who was studying architecture to become, presumably, an architect.This friend introduced me to other friends, who were also studying architecture. Then these friends had other friends who were architects - real architects doing real architecture like designing luxury condos that look a lot like glass dildos. And these real architects knew other real architects and now the only people I know are architects. And they all design glass dildos that I will never work or live in and serve only to obstruct my view of New Jersey.

Do not get me wrong, architects. I like you as a person. I think you are nice, smell good most of the time, and I like your glasses. You have crazy hair, and if you are lucky, most of it is on your head. But I do not care about architecture. It is true. This is what I do care about:

* burritos
* hedgehogs
* coffee

As you can see, architecture is not on the list. I believe that architecture falls somewhere between toenail fungus and invasive colonoscopy in the list of things that interest me.
Perhaps if you didn’t talk about it so much, I would be more interested. When you point to a glass cylinder and say proudly, hey my office designed that, I giggle and say it looks like a bong. You turn your head in disgust and shame. You think, obviously she does not understand. What does she know? She is just a writer. She is no architect. She respects vowels, not glass cocks. And then you say now I am designing a lifestyle center, and I ask what is that, and you say it is a place that offers goods and services and retail opportunities and I say you mean like a mall and you say no. It is a lifestyle center. I say it sounds like a mall. I am from the Valley, bitch. I know malls.

Architects, I will not lie, you confuse me. You work sixty, eighty hours a week and yet you are always poor. Why aren’t you buying me a drink? Where is your bounty of riches? Maybe you spent it on merlot. Maybe you spent it on hookers and blow. I cannot be sure. It is a mystery. I will leave that to the scientists to figure out.

Architects love to discuss how much sleep they have gotten. One will say how he was at the studio until five in the morning, only to return again two hours later. Then another will say, oh that is nothing. I haven’t slept in a week. And then another will say, guess what, I have never slept ever. My dear architects, the measure of how hard you’ve worked and how much you’ve accomplished is not related to the number of hours you have not slept. Have you heard of Rem Koolhaas? He is a famous architect. I know this because you tell me he is a famous architect. I hear that Rem Koolhaas is always sleeping. He is, I presume, sleeping right now. And I hear he gets shit done. And I also hear that in a stunning move, he is making a building that looks not like a glass cock, but like a concrete vagina. When you sleep more, you get vagina. You can all take a lesson from Rem Koolhaas.

Life is hard for me, please understand. Architects are an important part of my existence. They call me at eleven at night and say they just got off work, am I hungry? Listen, it is practically midnight. I ate hours ago. So long ago that, in fact, I am hungry again. So yes, I will go. Then I will go and there will be other architects talking about AutoCAD shortcuts and something about electric panels and can you believe that is all I did today, what a drag. I look around the table at the poor, tired, and hungry, and think to myself, I have but only one bullet left in the gun. Who will I choose?

I have a friend who is a doctor. He gives me drugs. I enjoy them. I have a friend who is a lawyer. He helped me sue my landlord. My architect friends have given me nothing. No drugs, no medical advice, and they don’t know how to spell subpoena. One architect friend figured out that my apartment was one hundred and eighty seven square feet. That was nice. Thanks for that.
I suppose one could ask what someone like me brings to architects like yourselves. I bring cheer. I yell at architects when they start talking about architecture. I force them to discuss far more interesting topics, like turkey eggs. Why do we eat chicken eggs, but not turkey eggs? They are bigger. And people really like turkey. See? I am not afraid to ask the tough questions.
So, dear architects, I will stick around, for only a little while. I hope that one day some of you will become doctors and lawyers or will figure out my taxes. And we will laugh at the days when you spent the entire evening talking about some European you’ve never met who designed a building you will never see because you are too busy working on something that will never get built. But even if that day doesn’t arrive, give me a call anyway, I am free.

Yours truly,
Annie Choi
 
Friday, July 06, 2007
  free-range friday...

 
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
  drinking....
and drawing can
lead to casual sections

heard in crit:

“Why are you here? Don’t come back next semester.”
“Here’s a quarter. go call your mom and tell her you’re not going to be an architect.”
"Your design is like masturbation, you want to know why? That is because only you yourself enjoyed and like it.
"What is that boxy thing (model)? A coffin?
"Your design sucks!
Y"our design is very tasteful… … for the tasteless.
“Is this a … structural… glob of glue?”
“When I went to school, at a different school than this one, there were students who would present projects like this one.And they would fail.”
“Your project looks like something that’s been through a trash compactor”
“This space that you’ve designed is the type place where beggars and dogs go to die”
“Are you in interior design?”
“Why are you studying architecture if you’re producing things like that?”
“Hey, everyone, gather round this project, come in close…because this is a great example for everyone of exactly what NOT to do..”
“This drawing isn’t worth the paper it is printed on.”
“This (model) is great…..just don’t let your dog play with it next time.”
“The program you invented was meant solely for your architectural masturbation……”
If you build this and after 10000 years the aliens see it, they would understand why humans extinguish
“Have you ever considered a career in accounting?”
“oh, so it’s like some kind of orgy pit!”
“So your parents are pay $20000 a year for this.”
“Your theory is bullshit. You don’t need that”
Prof pointing to part of a model, “Did you chew this?”
 
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
  we'll take your souls please...
http://www.architectmagazine.com/industry-news.asp?sectionID=1006&articleID=471542

The $34,000 Question
Intern architects weigh the creative rewards of their profession against its financial drawbacks.


Source: ARCHITECT MagazinePublication date: April 1, 2007


By Ernest Beck





also, courtesey of W4W:

Why do women leave Architecture?
http://www.riba.org/go/RIBA/Also/Education_2691.html

http://wednesday-for-women.blogspot.com/










 
Monday, April 09, 2007
  So True...
You know you're an architecture student when......

you know the janitors by name....

your roommates say "good morning," and you reply "good night."...

you carry a toothbrush in your backpack....

you start paying rent for your desk space in studio....

you ask Santa Clause for a sleeping bag....

you have 3 or more cups of double shot coffee espressos in one night...

You know the different taste between UHU and Pritt glue...

You can stay alive without sunlight, communicate with people norhaving foods but you would commit suicide if the plotter doesn't plotyour work out...

You've lost your house key and u realized week later...

you sleep more than 16 hrs at weekends...

You are an expert and Photoshop, illustrator and auto cadbut u don't know how to use MS excel...

your parents are complaining that you're not having enough fun....

you only leave studio to buy supplies....

you haven't taken a shower in a week....

you see showering as a waste of time....

your parents have more of a social life than you....

you enjoy hanging out at 'Home and Garden Fair'....

you know all the 24-hour food places in the area....

your friends get more sleep in one night than you do in one week...

You consider 3AM an early night....

everything you eat comes in single serving baggies....

you're out on Friday nights in studio....

you say "It's only midnight- I have plenty of time to finish."...

you confuse sunrise with sunset....

you ask what time it is, then ask "AM or PM?"...

you strangle your roommate because she said she stayed up late studying....

your Friday night is 68 hours long....

you slice your finger, and the first thing you think of is ifyou'll be able to finish your model....

you understand why architects have glasses and white hair (are alcoholics, divorcees, etc...)....

you know all of these are true, no exaggerations....

you can conceptually compose the food on your plate....

you go to the food shop, and order the "usual", and they understand....

you use architecture tools to eat....

you only buy groceries once a month (and your groceries come from a vending machine)....

you wake up to go to school and you're already there....

you bring your friends to studio to keep you company....

you refer to outside studio as the "Real World."...

you confuse today and tomorrow....

you can write a 6-page term paper by procrastinating....

you hear "Didn't you wear that yesterday?' followed by "and the daybefore that?"...

you think days are 48 hours long....

concept of time is not forward, but a countdown from the time aproject is due ("What time is it?""4 hours 'till")....

doing models all night long excites you....

They know the phrase "Always done, never done" all too well andwish the professors would stop saying it...

And if you have been drunk while in the studio working on aproject, join the club.....

you use your T-square or straight edge as a baseball bat (guitar, fiddle, light saber..)....

when you use words like "gratuitous"....

when you have to use spellchecker to see if you spelled "gratuitous" right....

When you're not sure what day of the week it is...

When lack of sleep makes you feel and act as if you are high...

When any flat surface is seen as a place to take a nap (underneaththe tables in the computer room (that's where it is the warmest), inhallways, on drafting boards...

When the books that you read consist primarily of photographs andnot so much of words...

You have given a final presentation with your fly open...

When you skip classes because you have too much work to do...

when people stop you in hallways and say "hey, I like your beard"and you realize that you haven't shaved in three projects...

when you refer to your computer as your "significant other"...

when you have nicknames for all your tools...

when a triple shot espresso just doesn't have enough "kick"...

when you try to talk to another person and realize that you'veinvented your own language and nobody else understands you...

when a 102 degree fever or strep throat is to you no excuse to miss a crit.

thanks for sending this miss h.
 
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
  xrefs, lies, and mental video tape
okay, i jsut caught t in a bold faced lie! & of course mr. m ate it up.if i say something, i just look like a tattle tell!!!

what was he lying about??

UH, in a nut shell....
yesterday mr. m asked t to get some things together to ship (dwg sheets, specs, the usual) to D.O.I. and have it go out UPS (who comes around daily b/t 3 30 and 3 47 like clock work).

i watched t assle around for about 3 hours then start to hustle.... fnally he was printing labels (for UPS) and i said..."t, i hear the truck pulling around"

t didn't even run to wave at the guy, to say he'd be a few extra mins.
the driver then came to the door, looked in our 'spot' waved and left...

so this morining, says t "um, mr. m, UPS never came yesterday..."


whoa!!!



 
Monday, March 05, 2007
  more trouble than it's worth:

 
the truth about architecture from a couple of slightly bitter thirty somethings with thoughts from behind the machine, on colleagues, IDP, construction, but mostly emails pondering the whole thing...

My Photo
Name:
Location: random oyster beds, oceans and marshes worldwide, currently:, New Zealand

the world is my oyster...and i intend to take it on the half shell...slurp

ARCHIVES
January 2007 / February 2007 / March 2007 / April 2007 / July 2007 /


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