Word: modernists
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...oversee plans for most of a $3 billion expansion of Universal City in California. Why choose Koolhaas? "I think it's because of his grandfather," says Koolhaas of Edgar Bronfman Jr., grandson of the man who asked Mies van der Rohe to build New York City's first modernist tower, the Seagram Building...
...many ways Bronfman's selection of Koolhaas is indeed as bold as his grandfather's choice of a modernist in 1954. After all, architects who refuse to condemn suburban mall sprawl and who favor cheap industrial materials aren't usually the beneficiaries of high-corporate patronage. Which isn't to imply that there are many--or even any--architects quite like Koolhaas. Some would label his disorienting, asymmetric buildings deconstructivist; he likes to consider himself an architect without style. For him, form not only doesn't follow function; the two are barely on speaking terms...
...runs into the blond, her drug deal has gone sour. Does he catch her, or even catch on to her? No: he takes off her shoes as she sleeps, and later she leaves him a message wishing him happy birthday. That's enough for a rapturous moment of modernist romance. He'll hold on to that memory forever. "And if it must have an expiration date," he says, "I hope it'll be 10,000 years...
Whoever programmed the Harvard-Radcliffe Orchestra's concert last Friday night clearly wasn't looking for crowd-pleasers; there wasn't a Beethoven symphony or Mozart concerto to be found in Sanders Theater. Instead, the orchestra gamely offered up a trancelike Wagner overture, a defiantly modernist Stravinsky ballet and--strangest of all--a bassoon concerto. While Wagner and Stravinsky are hardly obscure, it's not every day that you get to hear the bassoon--an instrument that ranks with the tuba and bass in ungainliness--dominate the stage...
...shrugging them off. For a start, he was a traditional crooner who learned intonation from Crosby and salesmanship from Jolson. Yet there was a hint in his gestures (eyes closed in ecstasy, arms stretched out imploringly) that he was parodying the very idea of crooner; he was a mellow modernist. You could also peg Dino as an anachronism, a Joe E. Lewis saloon-lush type, the party animal in a tux. Or maybe he was the first slacker, elevating sloth to a Zen art. The stupefaction he radiated on his TV show--the Golddiggers dancing around him as wildly...