Saturday, November 3, 2012

marking my clark park:: part VI


 near the end of day, I walked across the street towards the falling light as it shimmers late through the tall trees...

 there is a lovely old french poem about the dreaming trees at dusk after the rain...
"le long des murs d'un parc ou songent de beaux arbres...
on les suit longtemps.

plus tard, un peu de soleil dore
une feuille, et deux, et puis tout!"

and so it goes, in the pale hour along the parkside walls where old trees dream...

[selected lines from "Au fil de l'heure pale" by Leon-Paul FARGUE, 1878-1947]


Wednesday, October 31, 2012

keep counting...


 he claims that he can't count...
- the children anyways -
but other things like bottles and women and lakes and textbooks
somehow acquired an enigmatic number 
rounded to 500, no more no less...


[hovering high up under the Granville Street Bridge]

Sunday, October 7, 2012

concrete sky


 mere meters away from the millenium line on the eastside are older apartment buildings and houses in which the deafening roar of the skytrain flashing by every few minutes is matched by the looming sightline of a heavy concrete horizon...

a continuous thundering from a solid lightning bolt -
a sedimentary sky that will never soften with rain...

[Stainsbury Avenue near Gladstone Street]

Saturday, September 29, 2012

king of sweets



convivial endings of a no-fly-zone season -
betrayal of a ham-hued tongue slack with crusted sugar...
move on, move on, king of sweets, 
to the cloying call of bloated suburbia -
the overall of the sticky much-too-much...

[lane behind Fraser Street]

Monday, September 24, 2012

downtown westside:: the sexy sixties [episode two]


 You may not see the rigid concrete forest for the trees, but the impenetrably dense massing of reinforced concrete soars upwards as high as the old growth in the lush forests that MacMillan Bloedel had been sawing through for decades...
The late venerable Arthur Erickson [1924-2009] designed this raw concrete tapering tower back in the still freshly brewed essence of modernistic grinding through the 1960's - and steeped in his immersion of Japanese aesthetics, he applied the dictate of material integrity to his Emily Carr-inspired vision of gargantuan nature dominating the west coast landscape...

the offset halves of the west side facade with slim ribbons of glazing running down like rivulets of rain water...

27 storeys of deeply recessed windows with 7 foot square panes of glass create vertical waffled pools of watery reflections...

the offset halves of the east side facade ascend as tapering trunks of denuded giant firs...

around back, the brutalist effect of a medieval fortification is tempered by the elegant grey smoothness of sandblasted concrete and the bush-hammered texture of a solid elevation...

despite the thickset gridding and massive heaviness of concrete, there is a repetitive grace and a certain meditative quality to the geometrical formation that is the main facade of this stripped down monolith to a once ruthless clearcutter of tall trees in ancient forests...

"I don't think concrete is beautiful per se, but I think if one accepts it as the building stone of our century one find beautiful qualities in it - its earthiness, its mass, its traces of how it's made - I really do like it."
[Arthur Erickson from Seven Stones, a Portrait of Arthur Erickson by Edith IGLAUER]

MacMillan Bloedel Building
1075 West Georgia Street
Arthur Erickson and Geoffrey Massey, 1968-69

Saturday, September 15, 2012

duchampion ready-made jeu de boites...


...and oh so last century...

*"5. Many ready-mades had an intentional, aesthetic quality as their origin and were not mere anti-artistic gestures, as was frequently thought during the 1950s and '60s. It is also necessary here to distinguish between examples. In any case, it seems essential to elucidate in each particular case what is the exact nature of the aesthetic meaning and what is its likely evolution."

[*from 'The Meaning of the Ready-mades', p.29 in Duchamp: Love and Death, even by Juan Antonio RAMIREZ, translated from the spanish by Alexander R. Tulloch, Reaktion Books, 1998]

[corner of East 21st Avenue and Prince Edward Street]

Sunday, September 9, 2012

sleuthing through finn slough...



A few minutes south from the glitzy hustle-bustle of Richmond central flows a murky narrow slough off the Fraser River into a falling-down rustic clump of a fishing village more than a century old...
A few kilometers from the end of the towering concrete pylons of the Canada line skytrain is sited a marshy block of patchwork cabins and rusting boats that is a world and a half away from the big box chains, the asian megamalls, the multi-glut of restaurants, and the monstrous maxi-mansions...


But here, on a sun-drenched late summer's day, the micro community of Finn Slough chills to the ebb and flow of the tide, the soft whirring of swallow wings, the gentle swishing of boats tied up, the creaking of worn boardwalks across muddy stretches...


Here, too, the wary inhabitants tolerate dog walkers, excursion cyclists, curious history buffs, enthusiastic sketching artists, over-excited photographers tired of urban scenes, the odd blackberry picker, and first-time sleuths from the sympathetic republic of East Van...


And here, this picturesque mucky strip of a historical Finnish settlement is now threatened by encroaching development and the "raze the rotting pile" mentality of short-sighted, quick-buck, bottom-line feeders with complete disregard of history or ecology or conservation, and obviously a most insensitive lack of appreciation for its rusticated nordic-riverine splendour...
























This Dyke Road flopdollhouse comes complete with a dirty mattress on the floor, miniature bottles and syringes strewn about, streaky walls, an unused bird's nest in a corner and billowing lace curtains...and also, a proud canadian flag tucked above the front door...

Finn Slough along Dyke Road at the south end of No. 4 Road, Richmond

Sunday, August 26, 2012

the Del Mar unmarred...


George Riste RESISTED THE DIVIDE at all costs and his building still stands today in david-defiance of the BC HYDRO dam of a goliath menacing from behind...
Old altruistic George has since moved on to the Great Beyond but his noble and stubborn stance against corporate behemoths will ensure that this centenarian house of clean and happy tenants lives on undisturbed till time immemorial...UNLIMITED GROWTH be damned!




*NOTICE*
This property is
not for sale and it
has not been sold.
Thank you.
The Owner.

DEL MAR Inn [SRO housing]
553 Hamilton Street
OR Gallery [non-profit art gallery]
555 Hamilton Street

[more info on the DEL MAR on blog.ounodesign.com ]

Sunday, August 19, 2012

shedding still...


yes-today commiserates no-morrow...
and to pre-borrow is to re-borrow
from the next time for the this time,
from yesterday ever to the morrow...

Monday, August 6, 2012

the last quiet notes...


 When I heard that the Mansion was slated for re-development and its end days are drawing near, I felt that I should find a way in to record a little of its brief history as a communal house for some of East Vancouver's cool musicians...
I was let in on a couple of days when the house was quiet, resting between gigs and practices, and when most of the occupants were preoccupied elsewhere...










I found this bright orange satin cushion half hidden in the over-grown back garden - a pumpkin pretender tossed nonchalantly from a house where all that music will soon fade away...

[thank you, Marita, for letting me in]
[and thank you, Greg Girard and Emily Carr, for the assignment]