






interior romantic garden, through which eyes tired from the strain of the computer screen can go for jaunty mid-afternoon saunters, wandering over worktops, and between lampshades, occasionaly taking refuge under the light whimsy of a minute folly.



















Peripetics by ZEITGUISED from NotForPaper on Vimeo.





The version below is cut to half its width by blogger, go here for the full version
What things can be unearthed from the dusty interiors of ancient Hard Drives once presumed broken!
I found this video that I had forgotten I had ever made on an old hard drive that I was about to throw away, since it hadnt worked for about 5years. I plugged it in one last time, to find that it hummed gently, and happily gave up its contents, all of which I had thought forever lost, including this startlingly mechanical and monochrome fly-through of my final design in 2003, (a proposal for a Serpentine Pavilion) for Charles Walker's first year at the AA Intermediate School; a unit that is now spawning a prodigious quantity of pavilions in Bedford Square. I designed an Excel Spreadsheet that would generate all the panels according to a few parameters, and several bell curve formulas (for height gradation and grid distortion, both in plan and section). The next year (2004) the project turned up in a sheet of 'influences' for Jurgen Mayer's Seville 'Metropol Parasol', along with a couple of other projects from other architects.


I do not like the design, but the insanely geeky and thorough process of designing my own parametric 'program' from scratch on Excel was an experience that I do not regret; and besides, doing this design for the Serpentine Pavilion took so long, and was generaly so unnatural to my inclinations, and so out of keeping with a context I loved so much, that there was a whole year of pent-up ideas, and continuously frustrated desires for the site and the programme, that simply burst forth with a vengeance when somehow, through luck, I ended up in Rotterdam, working on the 2006 OMA/Rem Koolhaas Serpentine Pavilion. It was such a joy to be able to work on a real design for the same site, a real design together with a team (notably the eminent Mr Karel Wuytack) and an architect, who were interested in so many of the things I had suffered from a lack of, in Charles' strange tool-based technocracy; namely the pavilion's relationship to the historicity of the place, its quality of allusion and its enmeshment with the events planned to occur within it.













It expanded, pulsing like a dead body heaving with unescaped noxious gases, breaking out with scars, patches and wounds of colour as if bacterial mould and mildew were painting the bowels of this torrid place with the florid marks of a tropical disease. Seats tipped over and disappeared into the folds between columns that began to bulge like the faces of men having heart attacks, swollen beyond use and marked across, slashed all over with tattoos as desperate in their relentless acreage as the panting breaths of a suffocating dog. The stage was lacerated until it bled red and was then hurled over to a place where it lay, sinking into the Technicolor mess that groaned and swelled around it.



