Our Philosophy of Home
Architectural and Life Manifesto by Lebbeus Woods (which we embrace)
Resist what seems inevitable
Resist any idea that uses the word "algorithm"
Resist the urge to draw blob-like shapes
Resist the desire to leave for Paris in the spring
Resist the temptation to move to Los Angeles - always
Resist the belief that architecture is just a building
Resist the idea that architecture can save the world
Resist the hope of landing that big commission
Resist the impulse to seek out projects
Resist the easy path
Resist the temptation to speak quickly
Resist anyone asking you to design only the visible part
Resist the belief that you need a client to create architecture
Reflections on Furniture
Four, three, or... none.
"It's a good rule that no chair, stool, or table in the servant's quarters or kitchen
should have more than three legs. This has been the long-standing tradition of every family I've ever known. It's said
to be based on two reasons: first, to symbolize that servants are always in an unstable position; and second, it is a
mark of humility for their furniture to have fewer legs than that of their masters.
Exceptions are occasionally made for the cook, who by long-standing custom is allowed an armchair to nap in after
lunch - though even then, I've rarely seen one with more than three legs.
This general wobbliness in servant furniture is attributed by philosophers to two causes known to bring down empires:
love and war.
The stool, chair, or table is often the first thing brandished in a quarrel. And once peace is restored, the
chairs - unless extremely sturdy - often fall victim to romance, especially given that cooks tend to be heavyset and butlers
slightly tipsy."
Jonathan Swift
Directions to Servants, 1745
Reflections on the Present
"Thinking about the present is hard - because the past still shines.
Weren't things better before cappuccinos, sushi, and arugula became global trends?
Before chili pepper spiced up our salads?
Before adventure became a sport and nature a commercial?
The good old days when the Paris metro smelled of cigarettes and lofts were a New York elite's secret.
Before seat belts beeped if unfastened and spies really came from the cold.
Before cell phones disrupted train rides.
Before chatting online was human behavior.
Back when not every second person was a hero, not every third a victim, not every fourth stressed.
Before online identities, outsourced call centers, and the term "preemptive war."
Before Moscow had billionaires.
Before beach volleyball and snowboarding were Olympic sports.
Before fusion cuisine and liquid nitrogen-made instant gelato.
Before you could find espresso in Hamburg or Milwaukee.
When Thai food was exotic, and "cholesterol" was a strange word used in Scrabble.
When people walked on the moon and Christmas snow covered London for weeks.
No, these things are too far gone - I don't remember them.
They never happened."
Philippe Parreno - Fonoglutammato
Reflections on Home
...The best thing about leaving is coming home...
Whether you love your home - or even if you don't particularly - it's hard to beat that first week back.
Everything feels more intimate, more comforting.
Even the usual annoyances - the 3 a.m. car alarm or the pigeons cooing outside your window - seem to ground you, reminding
you that life, your life, is here, waiting to welcome you back no matter how far you've wandered.
And the things you've always liked? During those first few days, they seem worth celebrating:
The street vendor who nods when you jog past.
The falafel sandwich with pickled radish from the food truck down the block - the one that even appeared in your dreams
while in London.
The way the sunlight travels across your apartment through the day.
Your personal belongings, your food, your bed, your shower, the smells.
And of course, the person you return to:
Their face, their voice, their scent, their touch.
The way they wait for you to finish your thought - no matter how long it takes - before they speak.
The way their smile lights up slowly, like the moon rising in the sky.
The clarity in their eyes that shows how much they missed you - and how glad they are to have you home again...
Excerpt from A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara - Sellerio Editore
Reflections on Life
"Travel is useful; it fires the imagination. Everything else is disappointment and fatigue.
The journey we're given is purely imaginary. That's its strength. It runs from life to death.
Men, beasts, cities, things - it's all invented. It's a novel, nothing but a story.
That's what Littré says, and he's never wrong.
Anyway, everyone can do the same: just close your eyes.
It's on the other side of life."
Journey to the End of the Night by Louis-Ferdinand Céline (1932)
