Cuckoo for cuckoo clocks.
I could update my blog every day. Really, I could. It wouldn't be interesting. You don't want to know about my studio life.
Does paying five digits a year to glue assorted paper bi-products together during an intense caffeine binge sound interesting?
This weekend was probably the most epic travel weekend I have had in my entire life. In a manner of days, we've seen more noteworthy architecture than in this entire semester abroad. Getting right off the plane on Thursday morning, we were greeted with a cute little welcome chocolate in the shape of a heart. No wonder everyone loves Switzerland; who the hell could declare war on a country that throws chocolate at every visitor?
Immediately, our bus moved on to the Swiss Re Center for International Dialogue. Standing as perhaps the most luxurious of testaments to Swiss decadent architecture, the center focuses not necessarily on expensive materials (shut up bronze detailing) but rather the focus on fine craftsmanship and attention to the finishes. Once again, Rolf's discussion about the ceiling being the best indicator of an architect's skill proved correct: the ceiling was a grid of dark concrete and bronze mesh fabric that was shadow-joined with immaculate precision. This sort of anal-retentiveness set the tone for the rest of the (highly exclusive) conference center. Another major attraction was the monumental pre-stressed wooden beams that composed the roofing situation over the presentation hall.
And there were so many coffee makers. This just isn't fair anymore. Europe is pushing me into considering rehab.
Further in that direction, the evening was a mixed ensemble of the Kunsthaus Bregenz, a wine bar that I abused for free, and a long bus ride complete with Arrested Development and sangria. It was a glorious ride indeed. If you argue with me, you are wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The night was spent at Hotel Sport Center, which more or less was a bunch of rooms tacked on to the side of a massive tennis complex.
BUT AT LEAST WE HAD PING PONG!(?)
Friday was a lot of extreme alpine bus driving, getting muddy at the Vals stone quarry, and then washing ourselves in Peter Zumthor's Thermal Baths. Getting muddy was only a minute detail, as we walked away with fantastic samples of the beautiful turquoise-grey stone that clads the walls of the Thermal Baths, which became the next stop of our little adventure. Our architectural hitchhiker Timon, the man who had worked for one of the prominent architects of the tiny town Vrin (200 people, no big deal) almost skipped down the hallway while leading us to the baths. In his universal benevolence, Rolf granted us with over four hours in Zumthor's deliciously therapeutic waters. Switching between the boiling hot and ice cold pools, as well as the gentle transitionary pool that swung outside brought me almost as much joy as the full body massage I had received years past. You know, the one that made it nearly impossible to drive home afterward due to my infinitely relaxed disposition.
The thai chicken salad I had saved was divine after spending hours dehydrating myself in the architectural baptism pools.
Pulling a loop, we drove through the night to Vrin, that tiny town of 200 people plus or minus a few cows. Dinner was served in the hotel, and we proceeded upstairs to our giant shared loft, where I died a most serene sleep-death. We were all awakened to a snowy christmas morning by the town rooster, two sets of church bells, and my obnoxiously loud pinball alarm clock. Overkill is an understatement here.
After a tour through the town's school and cow barn by Timon, and enjoying a traditional dish called Bulzani (fried omelette with raisins, swiss cheese, and cherries) we braved the snowy alpine roads getting back to the main valley towards our return to Zurich. The inevitable hotel check in included demanding internet for our media-starved crew but resulted in a classic Jake Augunas independant urban adventuring. Walking to the end of the local train line a few hours down the side of the lake was all that I needed to be convinced that Zurich is one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. Even in March, the entire city smelled of grass, life, and pungent botanicals. In the least offensive manner possible. I penned that into my forehead as a city to consider working in if I ever manage to find employment abroad.
That or London. The desire to cause a scene in Picadilly Circus every weekend is running pretty high for me right now.
Our last day was basically a tour through architectural Disney Land by a woman who talked louder than me. Unfortunately, I was not able to edge in my wedding proposal, as her enthusiasm and absolutely intensity addressed every possible detail the Vitra Furniture Campus held. The field contained works by Ando, Herzog and De Meuron, Hadid, Gehry, Fuller, Grimshaw, and Siza. Apparently the head of Vitra furniture enjoyed collecting works of architecture and felt that he needed a pragmatic collection of every possible design methodology under the sun. Admirable, but architecture isn't just art you can stick into a case, it is a social instrument that requires a real purpose, a real concept, a real context.
Only Herzog and De Meuron's Vitra Haus really satisfied that criteria. I was not shocked.
We're back now. Thankfully, really; my wallet probably couldn't sustain further abuse. No one told us that Switzerland suffered from pretend inflation and even a basic latte at Starbucks was 5.50swissfrancs for a tall. Some sort of complete nonsense to me, unless the entire GDP of Switzerland is breaking the sky. But I could see it.
In conclusion, Switzerland is Colorado. But instead of North Face and Power Bar, their modus operadi is Ralph Lauren Polo and Espresso. The lifestyle is just as hardcore, however, and you can transition between beef producing mountain town, thermal spa town, and bustling urban paradise within a 2 hour time span. One could say the social and urban dynamics of Switzerland are just as varied as the weather and the topography. But that would be obvious; out of the environment came demand for specific knits of built space.
And with demand, the Swiss responded. Quite fluently.
In other news, one month until Italy. Damn.
