Michael Sorkin is an American architect, a professor of architecture at City College in New York and easily one of the best architecture critics around. His collection of Village Voice columns, Exquisite Corpse (a title taken from the surrealists), which was published in 1991, confirmed Robert Hughes’ opinion that “he is unique in America — brave, principled, highly informed and fiercely funny.”
With All Over the Map, a collection of articles from the Architectural Record, Sorkin continues to focus on New York but, as ever, his critical thinking has wider implications. His pieces often start with an arresting, polemical opening (“All architecture is political”), to be followed by a tangential wander around a topic before a more focused two-paragraph summation and an equally strong final sentence (“The only answer to terror is an excess of democracy,” “Good cities are a bulwark”).
The book begins in 2001 with the destruction of the World Trade Center and ends with his own architectural manifesto — one that owes a great debt to Jane Jacobs, author of The Death and Life of Great American Cities. He argues for sustainable, bounded, polycentric and diverse cities, and is most interested, as someone who has long specialized in city planning, on “work at a scale that can genuinely be judged for its public arrangements and effects” rather than on individual buildings.
Sorkin argues convincingly that the Ground Zero site in Lower Manhattan should be open, public space that encourages “peaceable assembly” as its most important activity — something in short supply there.
He rails against Larry Silverstein, the “philistine leaseholder,” and the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation. When Daniel Libeskind, who is now master-planning the site, first produced his design for the so-called Freedom Tower, Sorkin wrote that “with its bellicose iconography of strength, its giganticism, and its emphasis on heroism — [it] seems to commemorate victory.” The One World Trade Center tower, Skidmore, Owings & Merrill’s skyscraper, is due to open in 2013: Sorkin’s criticism still pertains.
He is undistracted by the false debate about which was the best design in the Ground Zero competition, questioning the very idea that there must be buildings to replace those lost and looking at the wider context of the ecology of Lower Manhattan and beyond. “We do not hallow this ground simply by filling it with buildings,” he writes. It is “disaster triumphalised,” and he asks “why must the world’s tallest office building be built on this hallowed ground?”
He dismisses Libeskind’s “treacly recitations of his immigrant sagas” and is disgusted by a fashion piece that compares the eyewear of the design competition finalists. “Never was vision so conflated with sight or sore eyes,” he writes scathingly.
All Over the Map seeks to redress what Sorkin calls the “crisis in the public realm” from “car bombs in Kabul to CCTV cameras in London, from defensive ‘street furniture’ in Manhattan to the rampant privatization of everything” and especially urban sprawl. I’m not so sure that sprawl is, as he claims, the US’ special contribution to urbanism, but it’s easy to agree with his ringing conclusion: “Sprawl is unsustainable. Cities are the cure.”
Sorkin doesn’t pull punches — he writes a devastating obituary of architect Philip Johnson, a bete noire, whose body of work is merely “mediocre” and who was “clarifyingly emblematic of everything revolting about architectural culture, from his long love of the Nazis and his unspeakable anti-Semitism,
to his club-house conduct of architectural patronage ... his fey irony, his upper-crust superficiality ... Basta! Good riddance!”
He laments the decline in the standards of the architect Rem Koolhaas, demonstrated especially in his Prada buildings — how “Rem becomes RemCopyright,” as he puts it. Koolhaas’ non-committal view of the city, he argues, is often nothing more than “a series of laminations that serve its shopping subjects by smoothing the flow of traffic.” (Though perhaps Sorkin shouldn’t shout too loudly about these capitulations to the market — his own studio’s Seven Star Hotel project in Tianjin, China, appears little different.)
Sorkin repeatedly urges us not to be blinded by form. “Halliburton headquarters (or Saddam’s palazzi) may be gorgeous,” he writes, “but that isn’t exactly the point.” As he says in a chapter titled Advice to Critics, “Style ... often conceals more than it expresses.” His most important admonition, however, is never to be “a conduit for someone else’s delusions” — something no one could ever accuse him of being.
In 2012, the US Department of Justice (DOJ) heroically seized residences belonging to the family of former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), “purchased with the proceeds of alleged bribes,” the DOJ announcement said. “Alleged” was enough. Strangely, the DOJ remains unmoved by the any of the extensive illegality of the two Leninist authoritarian parties that held power in the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and Taiwan. If only Chen had run a one-party state that imprisoned, tortured and murdered its opponents, his property would have been completely safe from DOJ action. I must also note two things in the interests of completeness.
Taiwan is especially vulnerable to climate change. The surrounding seas are rising at twice the global rate, extreme heat is becoming a serious problem in the country’s cities, and typhoons are growing less frequent (resulting in droughts) but more destructive. Yet young Taiwanese, according to interviewees who often discuss such issues with this demographic, seldom show signs of climate anxiety, despite their teachers being convinced that humanity has a great deal to worry about. Climate anxiety or eco-anxiety isn’t a psychological disorder recognized by diagnostic manuals, but that doesn’t make it any less real to those who have a chronic and
The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists moving the Doomsday Clock to 85 seconds before midnight last month symbolized the closest humanity has ever been to global catastrophe In this context, the legislature remains gridlocked over the general budget, mirroring tensions simmering across the globe. According to local soothsayers, this “extreme speed and violent conflict” is no coincidence as the Year of the Horse is the year of bingwu (丙午), the rare “Fire Horse Year” (火馬年) that occurs once every 60 years, a configuration carrying an energy that shapes everything from personal fortunes to international crises. “For some people, it can be a
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