
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Monday, 16 May 2011
walk this way

piecing together the [story] behind the anomaly :
Stephen Wragg has been documenting the walking men adorning and instructing our [sub]urban landscapes. The project reveals a refreshing dose of creativity lurking in the obsessively standardised imagery of our streets
see the domestic exotic issue of matzine for a [conversation] with the artist
planning spontaneity
a book [review] : the Spontaneous City by Urhahn Urban Designarchitect-shaped urban planning seems to run through Dutch blood, or perhaps their canals - cue a pedigree of superCities, which start to look a bit heavy in this popping up world.
Urhahn dissect the processes behind thinking small ... a landscape of teeny tiny interventions sure sounds exciting...
assembling hackney wick
First there was a cinema nestled into an inner city petrol forecourt, now Assemble continues the momentum of the good idea, and empathy for London's unloved sites, with Folly for a Flyover.Check out the youngest [branch] to grow on the archi-urbanist family tree
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
matzine#08 : hot off the press!

the DOMESTIC EXOTIC issue awaits your eyes [here]
our biggest yet, it's bursting at the seams with ideas, an archive of anthropology, archeology, architecture, art, bakery, photography, psychogeography + storytelling
print your own copy, print lots of copies, spread the word......
Monday, 28 March 2011
food for domestic|exotic thought

it's 5days until the submission deadline for matzine#8
here are three foods for your thinking :
1. Slinkachu [above] : look up, look down, zoom in, recycle, make up a story
2. Psychogeographing [the word psychogeography comes from DeQuincey's wanderings, slightly druggy, no pattern, mapping out the city in a dream-like state. Then with Walter Benjamin and the Situationists the term becomes more extreme, a matter of taking very conceptual decisions about the walking you would do and how you would access the city like that] Iain Sinclair 1999
3. many small parts make an unexpectedly massive whole : think small
please email your handiwork to submissions.matzine@gmail.com by end of play on Friday 1 April
the issue will be in an a5 format, as before, but I encourage creativity within those limits
here are three foods for your thinking :
1. Slinkachu [above] : look up, look down, zoom in, recycle, make up a story
2. Psychogeographing [the word psychogeography comes from DeQuincey's wanderings, slightly druggy, no pattern, mapping out the city in a dream-like state. Then with Walter Benjamin and the Situationists the term becomes more extreme, a matter of taking very conceptual decisions about the walking you would do and how you would access the city like that] Iain Sinclair 1999
3. many small parts make an unexpectedly massive whole : think small
please email your handiwork to submissions.matzine@gmail.com by end of play on Friday 1 April
the issue will be in an a5 format, as before, but I encourage creativity within those limits
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
unveiling the domestic exotic

matzine#8 : call for submissions
Domestic Exotic entails an uncovering of the unfamiliar in the familiar, which causes a sudden shift of comfort in our surroundings [positive or negative] : consider the ground as tightly packed substrata of forgotten stories or hollow, filled with colliding conversations between inhabitants, past + present : there’s a river below the road waiting to be found – perhaps the winding path, not the straight line, will take you there : i urge you to actively seek out these hidden truths… let’s make #8 an unpredictable archive!
click for the [deets]
the image above begins to suggest at the layers lurking underground – the act of descending into the cellar of the 16th century Sutton House signifies the clay source of the brick structure so unusual at that time, and thus reveals the presence of the hackney brook, buried many years ago
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
family tree


in order to explore the representation of time – the theme of matzine#7 – i immersed myself in the deeds of my childhood home : recently celebrating its 100th birthday, though with a story dating back even longer, i thought an appropriate gift to the house would to be to compile its family tree : its red brick + mortar less vulnerable than human flesh, it has the ability to experience events spanning generations : although not much different in appearance from the neighbours either side, this family tree reveals a unique language of my loyal friend
Monday, 28 February 2011
Monday, 14 February 2011
dystopic criticisms

a review : Noir Urbanisms edited by Gyan Prakash
In a comprehensive introduction, Gyan Prakash punches through the walls that have, until now, restricted the debate on urban dystopia and whether it is merely a construct of Western literature and cinema. Noir Urbanisms comprises ten neatly independent essays which, collectively, allow interdisciplinary interaction. Each chapter explores dark representations of the city that have become important pieces of urban criticism, using examples from real cities.
Rubén Gallo’s essay on Tlatelolco marks the lifespan of a doomed 1960s housing complex in Mexico City. Educated in Paris, architect Mario Pani envisioned Corbusian modernism for one million sq m of new housing. The architect even designed a ‘modernist pyramid’ (a traditional symbol of human sacrifice) to loom over Aztec remains found on site. The adjacent Plaza of the Three Cultures became the scene of tragedy in 1968, when the army massacred 300 students. Further catastrophe came when the powerful 1985 earthquake caused high-rise blocks to collapse. Of Mexico’s 9000 casualties that day, thousands came from Tlatelolco. Subsequent investigations revealed a web of corruption in the construction process. Utopic visions of a Mexican identity disintegrated into a real life dystopia with ruinous pieces of architecture standing monument to megalomaniac design and corruption.
Dystopic visions are perhaps most familiar from the cinema, in such films as Blade Runner and Sin City, but this book looks towards the ‘larger apparatus of perception in the modern city’: pieces of architecture and printed press, among others. The rise of the printed press is inseparable from the rise of technology and capitalism, and its influence has forged a dependence on the image in modern society. In his essay, Topographies of Distress, David R. Ambaras concentrates on 1930s Tokyo to explore the urban representation that arose with modern journalism. Ambaras refers to the media coverage of a spate of infant deaths in the deprived area of Iwanosaka, which became the setting for the dystopic image of slum life – a reflection of the anxieties of Japan’s bourgeois class who understood poverty only through images. The increase in literacy and commuting by train fuelled the rise of newspapers and the thirst for sensationalism.
The dystopic image often acts as a warning of the dark future that awaits if we continue living the way we do. Mike Davis’ seminal Planet of Slums (2006) argues precisely this. It also exists as a representation of the existing city through a screen of anxiety. Based on perception, this infers that there are many different images of the same city existing in parallel rather than one simple view, as before; echoing the belief of French philosopher Michel Foucault, that we are living in an ‘epoch of simultaneity’. Urban dystopia has entered modern thought at a time when globalisation signals the loss of both local culture and moral frameworks.
The belief that dystopia is the opposite of utopia is challenged by the utopic visions of 20th century regimes. In discussing the emergence of cinematic criticism of the fast transition to an urban lifestyle in China, Li Zhang poses the question: Post-socialist Urban Dystopia? Independent Chinese filmmakers such as the Sixth Generation focus on the ‘insignificant’ people caught up in the forced relocation of communities into cities. ‘The visible hand of the state has been replaced by the invisible hand of the market’ says Zhang, allowing crime and violence to prosper. Setting the tone for a dystopic narrative, the ‘other Chinese city’ plays the role of protagonist in films that depict the bleakness of everyday lives. These films have catalysed democratic discussion among their audiences.
The territory for new discussion lies in the interstitial regions of the chapters; hence this is not necessarily a book to be read in order. Prakash permits a nod to the more common themes – Fritz Lang’s Metropolis earns itself an essay, for example. However, the more captivating essays are the less conventional. A potent argument emerges that the history of urban dystopia is entangled with images projected by those most anxious about the future. Ironically, these perceptions usually belong to the part of society that is comfortable and in control – and not the real-life inhabitants of the dystopic city. It is a shame that this book is presumed to target a specific academic audience; Noir Urbanisms deserves to be widely read and debated. In describing why inequalities or disasters have occurred, this becomes a lesson for the architects and urban designers master-planning cities of the future.
In a comprehensive introduction, Gyan Prakash punches through the walls that have, until now, restricted the debate on urban dystopia and whether it is merely a construct of Western literature and cinema. Noir Urbanisms comprises ten neatly independent essays which, collectively, allow interdisciplinary interaction. Each chapter explores dark representations of the city that have become important pieces of urban criticism, using examples from real cities.
Rubén Gallo’s essay on Tlatelolco marks the lifespan of a doomed 1960s housing complex in Mexico City. Educated in Paris, architect Mario Pani envisioned Corbusian modernism for one million sq m of new housing. The architect even designed a ‘modernist pyramid’ (a traditional symbol of human sacrifice) to loom over Aztec remains found on site. The adjacent Plaza of the Three Cultures became the scene of tragedy in 1968, when the army massacred 300 students. Further catastrophe came when the powerful 1985 earthquake caused high-rise blocks to collapse. Of Mexico’s 9000 casualties that day, thousands came from Tlatelolco. Subsequent investigations revealed a web of corruption in the construction process. Utopic visions of a Mexican identity disintegrated into a real life dystopia with ruinous pieces of architecture standing monument to megalomaniac design and corruption.
Dystopic visions are perhaps most familiar from the cinema, in such films as Blade Runner and Sin City, but this book looks towards the ‘larger apparatus of perception in the modern city’: pieces of architecture and printed press, among others. The rise of the printed press is inseparable from the rise of technology and capitalism, and its influence has forged a dependence on the image in modern society. In his essay, Topographies of Distress, David R. Ambaras concentrates on 1930s Tokyo to explore the urban representation that arose with modern journalism. Ambaras refers to the media coverage of a spate of infant deaths in the deprived area of Iwanosaka, which became the setting for the dystopic image of slum life – a reflection of the anxieties of Japan’s bourgeois class who understood poverty only through images. The increase in literacy and commuting by train fuelled the rise of newspapers and the thirst for sensationalism.
The dystopic image often acts as a warning of the dark future that awaits if we continue living the way we do. Mike Davis’ seminal Planet of Slums (2006) argues precisely this. It also exists as a representation of the existing city through a screen of anxiety. Based on perception, this infers that there are many different images of the same city existing in parallel rather than one simple view, as before; echoing the belief of French philosopher Michel Foucault, that we are living in an ‘epoch of simultaneity’. Urban dystopia has entered modern thought at a time when globalisation signals the loss of both local culture and moral frameworks.
The belief that dystopia is the opposite of utopia is challenged by the utopic visions of 20th century regimes. In discussing the emergence of cinematic criticism of the fast transition to an urban lifestyle in China, Li Zhang poses the question: Post-socialist Urban Dystopia? Independent Chinese filmmakers such as the Sixth Generation focus on the ‘insignificant’ people caught up in the forced relocation of communities into cities. ‘The visible hand of the state has been replaced by the invisible hand of the market’ says Zhang, allowing crime and violence to prosper. Setting the tone for a dystopic narrative, the ‘other Chinese city’ plays the role of protagonist in films that depict the bleakness of everyday lives. These films have catalysed democratic discussion among their audiences.
The territory for new discussion lies in the interstitial regions of the chapters; hence this is not necessarily a book to be read in order. Prakash permits a nod to the more common themes – Fritz Lang’s Metropolis earns itself an essay, for example. However, the more captivating essays are the less conventional. A potent argument emerges that the history of urban dystopia is entangled with images projected by those most anxious about the future. Ironically, these perceptions usually belong to the part of society that is comfortable and in control – and not the real-life inhabitants of the dystopic city. It is a shame that this book is presumed to target a specific academic audience; Noir Urbanisms deserves to be widely read and debated. In describing why inequalities or disasters have occurred, this becomes a lesson for the architects and urban designers master-planning cities of the future.
Thursday, 3 February 2011
proactive architeture # 1
the first in a series of articles seeking out the young+energetic go-getters in architecture, placing their self-initiated projects within a critical context of proactive architecture

#1 : meta architecture : click [here] to feast your eyes on the article as featuring on blueprint
[watch this space for # 2]

#1 : meta architecture : click [here] to feast your eyes on the article as featuring on blueprint
[watch this space for # 2]
Thursday, 16 December 2010
landscape for living + working

to read article on blueprint's website, click [here]
a review : the Crate Series @ Spring Projects : Studio Makkink & Bey fuses antiques + shipping crates and comes up with striking furniture, which tugs at the balance between work + play
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
please touch the art

a review : Move: Choreographing You @ Hayward : a diverse + hands-on exhibition of epic proportions has landed on the southbank - celebrating 50 years of experiments in visual arts + dance - if you're feeling daring enough, you could play an as important part of the show as the art.
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
hope for a shrinking city
following its leading role [for 2 days] on blueprint's website, the dundee article experienced further celebrity, featuring on architectr [here] + in the ArchNewsNow newsletter [here] so thought it was about time that unpredictable first conversation took a peek :
As Kengo Kuma & Associates bask in the glory of a competition win to design V&A’s outpost museum in Dundee, so too can the rest of us celebrate a ray of light cutting through rabid cuts on culture. As the slogan professes, this project is happening, with doors opening in 2014; the V&A keen to prevent another doomed project on its conscience. The announcement marks the end of an international competition, which has shied away from the usual whispering discussions and secret agendas behind closed doors. Rather, we find a decision from a jury, which exposed itself to public scrutiny and vowed for the feedback to impact on the judgement. The recent news follows a public debate on the 6 shortlisted designs, in the shape of an exhibition and online forum discussions. The period has also witnessed accompanying public lectures from innovative thinkers on the subject, including Dr Kylie Message, author of the book New Museums and the Making of Culture. In a bid to raise the profile and maintain interest in the project, Message thoughtfully discussed the potential of a contemporary museum to not only shape public culture, but also influence local economics and politics.
The V&A forms part of a 30 year masterplan to reinvent the waterfront of Scotland’s 4th largest city and stitch Dundee back together, handing the controversial site back to the city. Already 10 years in, local authorities have been staunchly ploughing through ill considered planning decisions of years gone by in a thorough infrastructure rejig. The first notable building in the masterplan, and destined to be its jewel, is the V&A, which seeks to ‘promote a wider understanding and application of design.’ Right from the start, the competition sought a landmark building to be designed by an internationally renowned architect. Through a process of ‘design in action’, the galleries will focus on showcasing design, illustrating how objects are created, from initial spark to final product. In this essence, the design process of the museum itself will be open to consideration throughout.
I have personally found myself glued to the web discussions. Curiously, the one on Kuma captivated me more than the rest with its musings on the potential of the design to attract the city’s bird population to nest. This led to the post ‘strange worries’, begging us to ‘comment about the design and the way it interacts with the city instead of being just worried about pigeons’. Hear Hear. After all, this is the stage for design aspirations, and no place for worries of cost and weathering of undecided materials. The preoccupation with the glazed cuts in Kuma’s design prompted another comment: ‘to choose a building without ledges, without wind and without markings of water and tide is to choose a building unrelated to the chosen site.’ Indeed, Kuma’s aspiration has always been to create a coastal crag, hollowed by the elements. It is an exploration into the soft and dynamic relationships between river and city, a relationship which has been nothing but fraught since the disintegration of the industrial docks and rude arrival of the Tay road bridge which crashed into the middle of the city in 1966, vomiting dual carriageways in all possible directions, and thus sealing the deal on Dundee’s segregation with its waterfront. Of course, local residents may wonder why the architect had to deal with this contentious relationship in the first place; Kuma’s V&A will sit on a manmade peninsula while the city centre continues to be cruelly fragmented by vast empty sites of exclusive territory. Though not the fault of the architect, there is an argument for a more integrated V&A, where the new cultural institution disperses throughout the city.
An inherent problem with the term ‘landmark’, is that it has come to infer a generic object in a specific city; this paradox becomes particularly potent when combined with that other thrown-about term, the starchitect. There was much comment in the online forum on some of the designs resembling previous projects of the respective architect in different cities. While the immediate context of the museum remains abstract, yet-to-be-built parts of the waterfront, there is a lot to learn from this historic city; for example, how the brutal North Sea winds have defined the urban grid. Or how the redundant jute mills still stand as vast achievements in structure and solidarity but manage to use the topography to hide in the hill, shrinking to street level for a kiss. This questions how are we are to get intimate with the new V&A when it sits on the most remote part of the city: must we stretch out for a polite handshake?
If anywhere is in need of feeling the waft of a warm Basque breeze, it is the peripheral city of Dundee. A habitual sufferer of low confidence, it is a shrinking city, where high density has become the worst nightmare. The city’s present population matches that of 1870 [1971 saw an all time high of 182,000] yet its area is now double as suburbia sprawls into fields leaving huge swathes of central brownfield sites vacant. Dundee is an intimate city, which can be traversed by foot, from water to countryside in less than 2 hours, and arguably sits within the most stunning of British landscape, enjoying the prestige of being Scotland’s sunniest city. It rises up the northern edge of the firth of Tay, exposing the entire city to a unique expanse of water, which fills with the colour of a melting sun everyday, as quiet hills roll into the far distance. Back in the day, Dundee threw all its hopes of industrial prosperity into the 3 Js [jute, jam, journalism] and when they depleted, the city was left crushed and helpless.
Kengo Kuma’s win and the continuing energy of the project come as exciting and heart-warming news for Dundee, but equally for the rest of the nation. Here we have a project defiantly holding two fingers up at the coalition government, whose cuts suggest that an age of austerity must equal cultural drought. The collaboration between V&A and Dundee’s institutions chooses the new museum to drive economic growth and accepts that culture has an important social function. This is architecture that has captured the imagination of 13,000 people who have visited the competition, not forgetting ten times that number who have been on the website; this is more than the average gate at Tannadice Park, home of Dundee United. Dr Message pointed out that museums are far more than their architecture. Indeed, when the renovated McManus Galleries opened to crowds last year, dundonians realised they had a lot to be proud of and excited about on a local level; the V&A at Dundee will expand this to an international scale.
As Kengo Kuma & Associates bask in the glory of a competition win to design V&A’s outpost museum in Dundee, so too can the rest of us celebrate a ray of light cutting through rabid cuts on culture. As the slogan professes, this project is happening, with doors opening in 2014; the V&A keen to prevent another doomed project on its conscience. The announcement marks the end of an international competition, which has shied away from the usual whispering discussions and secret agendas behind closed doors. Rather, we find a decision from a jury, which exposed itself to public scrutiny and vowed for the feedback to impact on the judgement. The recent news follows a public debate on the 6 shortlisted designs, in the shape of an exhibition and online forum discussions. The period has also witnessed accompanying public lectures from innovative thinkers on the subject, including Dr Kylie Message, author of the book New Museums and the Making of Culture. In a bid to raise the profile and maintain interest in the project, Message thoughtfully discussed the potential of a contemporary museum to not only shape public culture, but also influence local economics and politics.
The V&A forms part of a 30 year masterplan to reinvent the waterfront of Scotland’s 4th largest city and stitch Dundee back together, handing the controversial site back to the city. Already 10 years in, local authorities have been staunchly ploughing through ill considered planning decisions of years gone by in a thorough infrastructure rejig. The first notable building in the masterplan, and destined to be its jewel, is the V&A, which seeks to ‘promote a wider understanding and application of design.’ Right from the start, the competition sought a landmark building to be designed by an internationally renowned architect. Through a process of ‘design in action’, the galleries will focus on showcasing design, illustrating how objects are created, from initial spark to final product. In this essence, the design process of the museum itself will be open to consideration throughout.
I have personally found myself glued to the web discussions. Curiously, the one on Kuma captivated me more than the rest with its musings on the potential of the design to attract the city’s bird population to nest. This led to the post ‘strange worries’, begging us to ‘comment about the design and the way it interacts with the city instead of being just worried about pigeons’. Hear Hear. After all, this is the stage for design aspirations, and no place for worries of cost and weathering of undecided materials. The preoccupation with the glazed cuts in Kuma’s design prompted another comment: ‘to choose a building without ledges, without wind and without markings of water and tide is to choose a building unrelated to the chosen site.’ Indeed, Kuma’s aspiration has always been to create a coastal crag, hollowed by the elements. It is an exploration into the soft and dynamic relationships between river and city, a relationship which has been nothing but fraught since the disintegration of the industrial docks and rude arrival of the Tay road bridge which crashed into the middle of the city in 1966, vomiting dual carriageways in all possible directions, and thus sealing the deal on Dundee’s segregation with its waterfront. Of course, local residents may wonder why the architect had to deal with this contentious relationship in the first place; Kuma’s V&A will sit on a manmade peninsula while the city centre continues to be cruelly fragmented by vast empty sites of exclusive territory. Though not the fault of the architect, there is an argument for a more integrated V&A, where the new cultural institution disperses throughout the city.
An inherent problem with the term ‘landmark’, is that it has come to infer a generic object in a specific city; this paradox becomes particularly potent when combined with that other thrown-about term, the starchitect. There was much comment in the online forum on some of the designs resembling previous projects of the respective architect in different cities. While the immediate context of the museum remains abstract, yet-to-be-built parts of the waterfront, there is a lot to learn from this historic city; for example, how the brutal North Sea winds have defined the urban grid. Or how the redundant jute mills still stand as vast achievements in structure and solidarity but manage to use the topography to hide in the hill, shrinking to street level for a kiss. This questions how are we are to get intimate with the new V&A when it sits on the most remote part of the city: must we stretch out for a polite handshake?
If anywhere is in need of feeling the waft of a warm Basque breeze, it is the peripheral city of Dundee. A habitual sufferer of low confidence, it is a shrinking city, where high density has become the worst nightmare. The city’s present population matches that of 1870 [1971 saw an all time high of 182,000] yet its area is now double as suburbia sprawls into fields leaving huge swathes of central brownfield sites vacant. Dundee is an intimate city, which can be traversed by foot, from water to countryside in less than 2 hours, and arguably sits within the most stunning of British landscape, enjoying the prestige of being Scotland’s sunniest city. It rises up the northern edge of the firth of Tay, exposing the entire city to a unique expanse of water, which fills with the colour of a melting sun everyday, as quiet hills roll into the far distance. Back in the day, Dundee threw all its hopes of industrial prosperity into the 3 Js [jute, jam, journalism] and when they depleted, the city was left crushed and helpless.
Kengo Kuma’s win and the continuing energy of the project come as exciting and heart-warming news for Dundee, but equally for the rest of the nation. Here we have a project defiantly holding two fingers up at the coalition government, whose cuts suggest that an age of austerity must equal cultural drought. The collaboration between V&A and Dundee’s institutions chooses the new museum to drive economic growth and accepts that culture has an important social function. This is architecture that has captured the imagination of 13,000 people who have visited the competition, not forgetting ten times that number who have been on the website; this is more than the average gate at Tannadice Park, home of Dundee United. Dr Message pointed out that museums are far more than their architecture. Indeed, when the renovated McManus Galleries opened to crowds last year, dundonians realised they had a lot to be proud of and excited about on a local level; the V&A at Dundee will expand this to an international scale.
Thursday, 11 November 2010
and the winner is......

...... british culture
http://www.blueprintmagazine.co.uk/index.php/everything-else/hope-for-a-shrinking-city/
a comment piece on the recent announcement of kengo kuma's win to design the v&a at dundee,and what message this sends to the coalition
[shame about the renderings, which receive a big thumbs down...]
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
roll up, roll up

the december issue of Blueprint has hit the shelves and features my review of the Hawyard's current exhibition,
Move: Choreographing You [page 79]
Pick up a copy now to avoid disappointment!
Monday, 25 October 2010
cannibalising the city
http://www.blueprintmagazine.co.uk/index.php/everything-else/cannibalising-the-city/

a review : Klara Lidén @ Serpentine : trained as an architect, Lidén now energetically pursues the possibilities of a psychogeographic artist: challenging the way we experience our cities using whatever tools come to hand, from discarded billboard posters to quiet skylines.
hot off the press

matzine : little magazine, big ideas : issue no.5 ponders the theme of views and finds a wee story of mine in conversation with drawings, photographs +thoughts from a bunch of ambitious young architects, as compiled by ian pollard :
http://matzine.wordpress.com/mat-zine-05/
follow the links to print out your very own copy!
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
the bird with two eyes : a tale of limbo
Another Monday morning, another twenty reasons not quite compelling enough to fully rouse, yet just one force of instinct overpowering enough to move and start the day to a silent applause. Hogan bursts through a groggy film into the burning light of outside and with a sudden grasp of unnecessary urgency, swoops downwards. Eyes locked on the treasure as grease blissfully glistening in the sun, an excited squawk irresistibly leaks out into the damp air upon approaching last night’s late night accident. The image flickers as if lit by a neglected light bulb swinging in some forgotten corner and as Hogan opens his jaw to collect the prize, his beak splinters into the shiny, blank tarmac. Damn. A pain in the chest squeezes tightly as another crack appears inside.
For a tale of Hogan’s everyday life is a heartbreaking tale of dichotomy, the sufferer of a curious condition of the urban brain by the name of Matischism, affectionately coined ‘two views’. For with the left eye, Hogan observes reality,as objective and comparable as can be, with the right however, he sees fantasy and most particularly, his very own fantasies, ingrained with a lifetime of intimately clicking synapses. Consequently, the matischist’s vision entails a patchwork quilt crafted from observations, memories, ambitions, emotions, achievements,productions... The boundaries between the two views are almost invisible, stitched neatly into a uniquely collaged panorama. Sparse research reveals that this anomaly is only found in those species dwelling at the heart of chaotic metropolises, attributed to lifelong nesting within the dense pollution that clings indiscriminately to every surface, forging certain cerebral connections vulnerableto the electric signals which relentlessly twitch through saturated air.
One main positive symptom of the condition is a beautifully hyperactive imagination
so potent it could drum up the throb of pulsing blood as greatly as full flapping
flight. Hogan holds the ability to experience exulting emotions of achievement
without actually achieving anything. Unfortunately for him and many other
matischists, he has found himself unable to avoid addiction to the right eye and
its fanciful world, convincingly held together by the rigidity of reality and
tugged into tangibility by the laws of mechanics. New worlds are given logical
appearance following conventional rules, yet filled entirely with greedy desires,
embracing thrill in the unfamiliar and temporary. Alas, moments of lucidity
highlight the trap of a helpless passion; the introspective world though totally
controlled and carefully pieced together by its owner appears utterly apathetic to
the bystander.
With a sigh, Hogan diligently closes his right eye, focussing on the primeval
task in hand before retreating back, belly full, to that troublesome nest, where
this time he indulgently seals the left eye and withdraws into ecstatic fantasy,
darting weightlessly through fresh air. That boring familiar vista neatly unfolded
out ahead for all to see rips like taut canvas as another world slightly askew
ploughs through, an elegant machine; the new fabric fluidly fills in the gaps and
repairs the tears, an irresistible dreamland. Imagination is no longer constrained
by context as static and solid, grid references of information morph into a sea of
ever changing relationships.
For a tale of Hogan’s everyday life is a heartbreaking tale of dichotomy, the sufferer of a curious condition of the urban brain by the name of Matischism, affectionately coined ‘two views’. For with the left eye, Hogan observes reality,as objective and comparable as can be, with the right however, he sees fantasy and most particularly, his very own fantasies, ingrained with a lifetime of intimately clicking synapses. Consequently, the matischist’s vision entails a patchwork quilt crafted from observations, memories, ambitions, emotions, achievements,productions... The boundaries between the two views are almost invisible, stitched neatly into a uniquely collaged panorama. Sparse research reveals that this anomaly is only found in those species dwelling at the heart of chaotic metropolises, attributed to lifelong nesting within the dense pollution that clings indiscriminately to every surface, forging certain cerebral connections vulnerableto the electric signals which relentlessly twitch through saturated air.One main positive symptom of the condition is a beautifully hyperactive imagination
so potent it could drum up the throb of pulsing blood as greatly as full flapping
flight. Hogan holds the ability to experience exulting emotions of achievement
without actually achieving anything. Unfortunately for him and many other
matischists, he has found himself unable to avoid addiction to the right eye and
its fanciful world, convincingly held together by the rigidity of reality and
tugged into tangibility by the laws of mechanics. New worlds are given logical
appearance following conventional rules, yet filled entirely with greedy desires,
embracing thrill in the unfamiliar and temporary. Alas, moments of lucidity
highlight the trap of a helpless passion; the introspective world though totally
controlled and carefully pieced together by its owner appears utterly apathetic to
the bystander.
With a sigh, Hogan diligently closes his right eye, focussing on the primeval
task in hand before retreating back, belly full, to that troublesome nest, where
this time he indulgently seals the left eye and withdraws into ecstatic fantasy,
darting weightlessly through fresh air. That boring familiar vista neatly unfolded
out ahead for all to see rips like taut canvas as another world slightly askew
ploughs through, an elegant machine; the new fabric fluidly fills in the gaps and
repairs the tears, an irresistible dreamland. Imagination is no longer constrained
by context as static and solid, grid references of information morph into a sea of
ever changing relationships.
chalayan's hidden track
http://www.blueprintmagazine.co.uk/index.php/everything-else/chalayans-hidden-track/ ....for my writing debut at blueprint magazine

a review : B-Side @ Spring Projects : fashion designer turned artist, Hussein Chalayan, explores the deception of design by dissecting the mess and chaos behind the precious, final product through two pieces, which unsettle in very different ways. Air travel, religion and sushi are amongst the tools used in this investigation.
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