Monday, Monica and I were commuting home from work– by the time we hit the North Shore, we decided a visit to the Graceland Cemetery, known for its architectural treasures would be fitting for fall, Halloween– and the fact that we’re very curious ladies.
I like architecture. It takes second place to film, but a very tight second place. Whenever I tire of Chicago, I think about our buildings and I’m revived. My architectural preoccupation came while I was studying at Northwestern. I had taken a course on Chicago architecture and on day one, our professor and preservationist showed us the WTTW documentary on Richard Nickel. My friend Lubomir was trying to console me in class because by the time the piece had faded to black I was in tears.
After that I headed to work at the Chicago Architecture Foundation and was there the year they opened a Richard Nickel exhibition following Richard Cahan’s stunning book. While I try to refrain from comment on what CAF had become at the governing level, I can only say it is such a vast departure from its roots– that I found an irony in the exhibition choices of that year.
As Monica and I rounded the curve of the lake at the cemetery I saw the number denoting Mies van der Rohe on my map.
“Less is more. No, less is less, ” said Monica.
“I’d like to punch that guy in the face,” I said.
So let this be a testament to where my aesthetic loyalty lies. We headed home and drove the line where Clark Street becomes Chicago Avenue in Evanston. I saw the boxes and glass and steel horizon in front of me.
“I’d like to punch that guy in the face.”