Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Spiralling Upward

Celebrating fifty years of Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim.
from www.newyorker.com
May 25, 2009
In 1959, when the Guggenheim Museum opened, traffic on Fifth Avenue moved in both directions. As you drove northward, the bulbous form emerged from behind flat-fronted apartment buildings like a balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I first saw the museum that way, as a nine-year-old, and the idea that this beguiling object had been created to display art, or that it might not be up to the task, seemed beside the point.
Fifty years later, it still does, even though the charge that the building upstages the art has become part of its legend. Staff at the Guggenheim like to refer to the building as the most important object in the museum’s collection, which makes it odd that the Guggenheim hasn’t had a major exhibition of Frank Lloyd Wright’s work until now. Its fiftieth-anniversary show also marks the recent completion of an extensive restoration of the building and the fiftieth anniversary of the death of its maddening, egotistical, duplicitous creator. Wright died, at ninety-one, in April, 1959, six months before the museum was finished. He last saw the building in January of that year, when he was photographed looking out from the spiral ramp with the contractor, George Cohen.
Notably absent from that picture was the museum’s director, James Johnson Sweeney, who fought with Wright over almost every aspect of the building. Once the architect was gone, Sweeney painted the interior white, instead of the ivory that Wright had wanted; rather than hang the paintings directly on the backward-sloping walls, where Wright wanted them to appear as if they were on artists’ easels, he installed them upright, on metal rods projecting from the walls. Over the years, the building has been pushed and pulled in all kinds of directions, rarely to its benefit. Taliesin Associated Architects, the inheritors of Wright’s practice, put up a garish addition behind the museum; later, it was demolished to make way for a limestone slab by Gwathmey Siegel, and a bookstore was stuck in the open space beside the rotunda. It’s wonderful now to see the Guggenheim at least a bit closer to its 1959 condition, the reinforced-concrete surface of the exterior smooth and voluptuous rather than cracked and shabby. Planters, complete with live plants, and a fountain that Wright installed in the rotunda are back in use. They’re hardly his most sophisticated gesture, but it’s pleasing that the Guggenheim resisted editing them out.
Wright envisaged the Guggenheim as “a curving wave that never breaks.” When it opened, John Canaday, in the Times, called it “a war between architecture and painting in which both come out badly maimed.” But Wright’s conception has always functioned better than its critics have admitted, if never as well as he himself predicted. Works of artists like Alexander Calder and Ellsworth Kelly play off well against the curves, but the space overwhelms anything small, delicate, or highly detailed. This makes the Guggenheim the progenitor of every architecturally assertive museum since, and beside works like Frank Gehry’s Guggenheim Bilbao or Daniel Libeskind’s glass-and-metal shards in Denver and Toronto, it now looks almost demure. What strikes you when you walk into Wright’s rotunda today is how intimate and comfortable its magnificence is. Art is none the worse for half a century of being seen here.
Wright’s career spanned more than seven decades; he was born two years after the Civil War and died at the dawn of the space age. The exhibition is therefore a journey from architecture that, on the swirling ramp of the Guggenheim, can seem almost old-fashioned to work that closely resembles the museum. The strong horizontals, open interior spaces, and overhanging roofs of Wright’s early Prairie House style combine nineteenth-century sumptuousness with potent modern thrust. In his great house Fallingwater, of 1936, powerful cantilevers lent some of the crispness of European modernism. And then there are the hexagons, hemicycles, triangles, and spirals that pervade his late work. It’s appropriate that the exhibition’s section about the Guggenheim itself, unquestionably the culmination of Wright’s achievement, comes at the top of the spiral. Then again the Guggenheim spiral, ascending toward the sky, can be an overbearing metaphor for a chronological exhibition. (Wright would probably have loved it.) Not every oeuvre fits such a narrative, and in Wright’s case the curators decided that some work was better treated thematically than chronologically. Residential designs and major urban projects are in separate galleries—mini-exhibitions that remind you of the limitations of Wright’s ramp.
Among other things, the exhibition confirms the emergence of the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation, which co-organized it, from the shadow of Wright’s widow, Olgivanna. For a quarter century after his death, she maintained his studio, more like a cult than like an architectural firm. She died in 1985, but it wasn’t until recently that Taliesin Associated Architects, which for years purveyed lacklustre imitations of Wright’s work, closed down. The foundation’s architecture school has broadened its reach to the point of admitting that there are other architects worth learning about. And the drawing archive, surely one of the great architectural collections, is now free of paranoia and eager to share its treasures.
Wright was vastly prolific, and the curators wisely decided to concentrate on key projects rather than show everything. They are smart in defining what is key: not just famous buildings like Unity Temple and the headquarters of the Johnson Wax Company but also the Larkin Building, in Buffalo, senselessly demolished for a parking lot in 1950, and, from 1924, the wonderfully named Gordon Strong Automobile Objective, an unbuilt design for a mountaintop planetarium reached by a spiral road. There are some models big enough to look into and get a sense of Wright’s great interior spaces, but the most moving model, of Wright’s property surrounding Taliesin, has minuscule buildings, the better to show you the reach of the rolling hills around them. Suddenly you understand the depth of Wright’s love for the expanse of American landscape and what he meant when he said that buildings should not be on hilltops but, rather, on hillsides, so as not to destroy the contour of the land. The exhibition also includes computer-generated animations that give you the illusion of walking through a building. This is no substitute for the real thing, but in the case of nine unbuilt or demolished projects virtual reality is as close as you are going to get.
The exhibition’s most important elements are the most traditional: more than two hundred drawings, including soft pencil renderings and lavish watercolors, from throughout Wright’s career. They have been installed in glass cases, most of which are set at angles along the spiral ramp. Not much has been placed on Wright’s slanted walls—a tacit admission of the Guggenheim’s issues as a museum—but the idiosyncratically positioned cases feel almost like pieces of sculpture floating free in Wright’s space. You’re not sure whether the curators are jousting with Wright or protecting him, but there isn’t a moment when you are not aware of, and reacting to, his space. This is exactly how he wanted it. ♦
PHOTOGRAPH: DENNIS STOCK/MAGNUM
Friday, June 26, 2009
Jermaine Jaclson on his brother's death
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
Transcript:
This is hard…Ah, my brother, the legendary King of pop Michael Jackson, passed away on Thursday June 25th, 2009 at 2:26pm. It is believed he suffered cardiac arrest in his home. However, the cause of his death is unknown until results of the autopsy are known. His personal physician who was with him at the time attempted to resuscitate my brother. And ah, as did the paramedics who transported him to Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. Upon arriving, at the hospital at approximately 1:14pm a team of doctors including emergency physicians and cardiologists attempted to resuscitate him for a period of more than one hour. They were unsuccessful. Our family requests that the media please respect our privacy during these tough times. And ah, we’ll all be with you Michael always…Love you. Thank you very much.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Smart Flight Attendant!

from www.livinginperu.com
The little boy (who had been looking out the window turned to his mother and asked, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?"
The mother (who couldn't think of an answer) told her son to ask the flight attendant.
So the boy went down the aisle and asked the flight attendant, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big plane have baby planes?"
The busy flight attendant smiled and said, "Did your mother tell you to ask me?" The boy said, "Yes, she did."
"Well, then, you go and tell your mother that there are no baby planes because Southwest always pulls out on time. Have your mother explain that to you."
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Under the weather

To say that someone is "under the weather" is to say that they are not feeling very well.
Example: "What's wrong?" Answer: "I'm a bit under the weather." They probably have a simple cold or flu which will go away quickly. Example: "It's nothing serious; I'm just a bit under the weather." Being "under the weather" reminds us that a quick change in the weather can affect our health and the way we feel.
Friday, June 12, 2009
ESL Reading: Can I reserve a room?
How many Nights?A new $10 million new hotel opens in Ribrock, Tennesee. Leola Starling is very pleased - until her phone starts ringing.
‘Is that the Plaza Hotel?’
‘I’m sorry,' Leola says politely. 'You have the wrong number.’
She puts the phone down. Immediately it starts ringing again. 'I'd like a double room please.'
This time Leola is a little less polite. 'You’ve got the wrong number.'
'No, I don't,' said the caller, and he’s right. The problem is the telephone number of the new hotel. It’s almost exactly the same as Leola’s.
Same number?
The calls keep coming. Many are late at night. Leola finds it very stressful.
She contacts the hotel. 'Could you please change your number?' she asks. 'I'm getting all your calls.'
But the hotel refuses to co-operate. 'That number is on all our stationery,' they complain. 'It’ll cost too much to replace. Why don't you change your number?'
The phone company is not helpful, either. 'A number is a number,' they say. 'It's not our fault if people dial the wrong one.'
Angry
Leola is now very angry. She decides to take action.
The next call is from Memphis. 'Can I have a room for Tuesday?' the man asked.
'No problem,’ says Leola. ‘How many nights?'
Then a secretary wants a suite with two bedrooms for a week.
'We have the Presidential Suite on the 10th floor,' she says. 'It’s $600 a night.'
'That's perfect,' says the secretary.
The next day Leola takes many more bookings. One lady wants a hall for her daughter's wedding in June. ‘Will the hotel arrange the flowers?’ she asks.
'Of course!'
Chaos
Very soon there is total confusion at the Ribrock Plaza Motel. ‘But we phoned you,’ angry clients tell the receptionists. ‘You confirmed our reservation!’
The hotel loses business and is about to close. Then one day Leola’s phone rings. It’s the head of a big hotel chain. ‘We're prepared to offer you $200,000 for the motel,’ he says.
‘Okay,’ says Leola. ‘But only if you change the telephone number.’
Quiz




