Word: grime
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...FROM PRETENTIOUS ivory towers and the unsettling cacophony and grime of Eastern industrial cities, far away where neighbors stop to help one another dig drainage ditches and pull trucks out of mud, where everyone still goes to church and prays, where small farmers still rise early to work the land, where metropolises are few and far between, and where a man's willingness to roll up his sleeves and work up a sweat is valued above all attributes--in this place--the people have found a new hero--Cliff Finch, a man who has appeared from nowhere to become within...
...clear flat surface; instead rf the knotted shadows of expressionism, the sunny rectangle-color as disembodied energy. Hygiene is an obsessive theme of constructivism: a design like J J Pieter Oud's Cafe Restaurant De Unie, 1925, is not to be imagined with a scintilla of city grime on it. Steel, chrome, tile, gloss paint were the rudiments of utopia, but, above all, glass. Paeans were written to the constructivist cathedral, the transparent tower. "Life is a burden without a glass palace," rhapsodized the poet and designer Paul Scheerbart...
...west wall above the main entrance of the cathedral: The Tree of Jesse, The Childhood of Christ and The Passion. The windows were taken down, disassembled piece by piece and sent to a government laboratory outside Paris for testing, then to a Paris atelier for cleaning. The grime was removed with cotton swabs wet with an aqueous solution called E.D.T.A. On went a coat of Viacryl, a synthetic polyurethane resin meant to protect the pocked and flawed surface of the 800-year-old glass. The windows were put back together, re-leaded, and replaced in the wall. And down came...
Certainly, there were glimpses of the city's seamy side-its grime and crime, high prices and low vices. But the picture that emerged more clearly was of a city that, for all the literature about its coldness, does seem to have a heart beating somewhere in all that concrete...
...sepulchral chamber hidden beneath Florence's Medici Chapel, accessible only through a trap door and a winding staircase, Sabino Giovannoni scraped away at the accumulated layers of soot, grime and whitewash. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the face of a woman began to emerge, a primeval woman who looked remarkably like the Eve in the Sistine Chapel. After several hours, Giovannoni telephoned Medici Chapels Director Paolo dal Poggetto. "Come over quickly," he said. "We've got something important here...