So a good man hasn't been found since last March, but I guess it's better now than ever to get off my lazy tv-show-laden, summer-fed ass and start writing again.
I apologize greatly to all of my eight readers that I have not written in a while. As with most things needing daily attention -- like a normal sleep cycle -- I push it off for another day. But enough with excuses: I found a great article and a great piece of architecture that really galvanized me to start writing again.
The New York Times featured Kisho Kurokawa's Nakagin Capsule Tower today and its imminent destruction. Falling into disrepair in recent years, the Tower was the physical apogee of the Japanese Metabolism Movement (no, not a sashimi filled diet, but a futuristic leaning architectural ideal). In the 70's, it was all about movement and flexibility, innovation and design in Japan's technology driven society, and Kurokawa wanted Japan's buildings like that too.

Each capsule was built in a factory and attached to the two central concrete pillars that form the foundation of the tower. Like the K'NEX set you unwrapped at Christmas, the capusle pop in and out, able to form new building configurations. But, unfortunately, like the K'NEX set you unwrapped at Christmas and eventually had your dad build because the pieces were so damn hard to snap together, Kurokawa's vision was less than practical.
Now, to be honest, I don't find most post-war architecture appealing. It's mostly the bane of the New York skyline -- gaudy buildings put out of style ten years after they've been constructed and look like they belong in Epcot rather than a city. I've always been a big advocate of architectural preservation, especially with many of New York's neo-classical pieces from the 1900's, because that's really what gives the city much of its allure and its tradition.
But, the article brought up an interesting question: How old does a building have to be in order for it to be culturally valuable? Kurokawa's piece has really charmed me; I'm in love. It's flashy, dynamic, and most importantly a cultural monument of a bygone era. It's like a living Transformer (minus Shia LeBeouf thank god), what you wish Japan would still imagine the future to be like.
Hopefully, a good man will be found more often -- I'm in Hong Kong with nothing to do and ideas in my head, so I'm guessing he will be.