Kjempeblunder før Mega-Dystopien inntar Hovdetoppen

Hvilket bilde! Og hvilken idiot som har tatt det!

-Wikimedia.

Så har jeg gjort det igjen, men denne gangen overgår jeg meg selv i dumskap. Tidligere har jeg mistet råfilene mine ved uhell, men nå var det en bevisst, men allikevel en helt bevisstløs handling. I går kveld behandlet jeg råfilene fra en liten tur over Bergstoppen i hui og hast, og jeg tenkte at dette var ikke noe særlig, bare en grei dokumentasjon, så jeg slettet alle råfilene😖

Så, når jeg ser på bildene igjen i dag, så slår dette bildet rett imot meg fra Wikimedia. Og det er jo råbra! Men jeg kunne gjort det enda bedre hadde jeg hatt råfila, bl.a. er det enkelte høylys jeg skulle ha dempet. Nei og nei, og snart begynner de vel å grave på Hovdetoppen for å lage til landingsplassen for UFO-Hotellet sitt. Da kan jeg ikke ta flere bilder av byen min, fordi da vil den ha gått lukt til Helvete for all framtid. Så hvilket utrolig minne dette bildet ville vært med råfila mi😰

Kunne enda noen redde byen min, før dette brutale, bestialske mordet av kapmodistene! (Kapmodistene = det tohodede monsteret som oppsto da kapitalismen og modernismen forente seg ved verdensutstillingen i New York i 1929, orkestrert av PR-industriens far Edvard Bernays.)

Jeg ønsker å kunne fortsette å fotografere byen min, og å kunne etablere kafé-galleriet mitt i Gjøvik sentrum, og å bli Mjøsregionens fotograf nr. 1!

Dere som dreper Hovdetoppen, er dere klar over hvor mange venner jentene mine har her i byen? Det var her vi hørte hjemme, alltid traff vi noen når vi var en tur i sentrum. I Øverskreien er all kultur borte, det finnes ikke lenger møtesteder. Men her hadde vi fått et godt nettverk.

Hva som utspiller seg i disse dager er en Star Wars - dystopi av simpleste sort. Nedhøvlingen av Hovdetoppen er reinspikket miljøkriminalitet. Et ØKOMORD, et SIVILMORD og et KULTURMORD!!!!

I det minste har det nå kommet en bok som beskriver hvordan denne dystopien kan finne sted:

- ‘Dystopia’ on sale in U.S.

Fra David Brussats tekst:

"On Monday, Making Dystopia, by British architectural historian James Stevens Curl, officially went on sale in the United States. I am mere pages away from its completion and will review it soon. It offers a comprehensive study of a monstrous crime, summed up in the subtitle of the book: The Strange Rise and Survival of Architectural Barbarism.

Published by Oxford University Press, this hefty volume has rattled the cages of the architectural establishment in Great Britain as, no doubt, it will here. Some of those who have praised the book have enjoyed its observations on schools of architecture. For centuries an education in the design of buildings looked backward in order to teach the next generation of architects to move forward – a pattern followed by every profession, indeed every human field of endeavor throughout history until modern architecture. Stevens Curl, who was himself trained as an architect, describes how it used to be. First, students would learn how to draw exemplary buildings:

It was only by such close examination that detailed knowledge could be acquired of proportional systems, relationships of parts, axial planning, mouldings, how junctions are formed in a satisfactory manner, and, above all, how materials were used and put together in a building, especially dressings around openings such as windows or doors, where the materials often differed from those used in expanses of wall.

Such study revealed how a moulded skirting stopped at a block above which an architrave rose; how a band of mouldings joined another band at right angles to it; how the features of a room (e.g. fire-surrounds, windows, doors, and bays) related to each other by means of main and subsidiary axes; how subtle, recessed bands or planted beads could not only disguise joints, but helped objects to look pleasing by their logical positioning and the resulting subdivision of planes; how plinths, pedestals, rails, and cornices divided and finished the designs of walls; how pilasters, antae, or buttresses could break up a long wall into a series of parts and relate to the design of entablatures, ceiling-compartments, and the geometries of floor-finishes; how to treat a corner (inside and out); how the structural aspects of holes in walls such as those required for windows and doors are expressed in design, and how the treatment of a doorway might signal its significance and meaning; and a great deal more. In other words, an understanding of the ways in which a building was constructed was encouraged by such detailed hands-on study at close proximity to the fabric, reinforced by having to draw it to scale with accuracy and sensitivity.

The student would discover a rich alphabet to start with, then a vocabulary, and then a whole language capable of infinitely adaptable use, enabling him or her to look at buildings with informed eyes, and making visits to fine cities, towns, and works of architecture all the more enjoyable and instructive. Furthermore, armed with such a language, an architect did not have to stick pedantically to dull copyism. Skilled designers such as Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Leo von Klenze, Sir John Soane, or Alexander “Greek” Thomson (all of whom were thoroughly immersed in architectural languages [and fluent in their uses too]) could employ them as springboards for adaptability, invention, and creativity, all in the service of making architecture with profound resonances and meanings, which is what real architecture is about. Those languages with which they were acquainted gave them the means by which they could actually design with fecund invention and skill, drawing on true expertise and deep learning, to make buildings that were actually fresh, truly original, and which really functioned as architecture.

Such education, which had prevailed for centuries, was killed off in the 1950s and ’60s. It was replaced by an education totally different:

Students’ “projects,” produced in “studios,” were largely graded on the basis of how closely they resembled whatever “architecture” illustrated in the magazines was currently fashionable. Despite the supposed abolition of “style,” students who did not conform to stylistic dogma were cast into outer darkness. I can confirm this, for my own time in schools of architecture was a revelation: it left me wholly unprepared for the real world designing real buildings. That experience was by no means unique, for others have come to similar conclusions concerning their own inadequate “education” and the tactics used by tutors (often reinforced by their fellow-students anxious to ingratiate themselves with the tutors) to enforce conformity on pain of rejection and ultimate failure.

The passages above from Making Dystopia are far from its most controversial, let alone its most angry. The passages I quote in my review will rattle the modernist cage with far more violence than these."

Les mer her. Bestill boka:

- Making Dystopia: The Strange Rise and Survival of Architectural Barbarism Hardcover – October 9, 2018, by James Stevens Curl

Kunne hatt lyst til å kjøpe et eksemplar og overrekke til ordføreren i Gjøvik, han var jo så hyggelig for et par år siden og stod fram med eldstejenta mi med stort bilde i Gjøviks blad, mens de snekret fuglekasser på Eiktunet sammen. Nå er samme mann ansvarlig for at hun har mistet vennene sine i byen, de savner henne inderlig og hun dem, og hver gang den tidligere læreren treffer henne gir hun henne en kjempeklem og forteller at hun håper hun kommer tilbake snart. Men nei, det gjør hun ikke, og ordføreren har sammen med rådmannen, en tidligere speider som burde vite bedre, hovedansvaret for at så ikke skjer!

Hva skal jeg gjøre? Kanskje burde jeg prøve å fått til en utstilling om Hovdetoppen? Fikk noen fine bilder derfra i høst rett føre nedhøvlingen av selve topplatået, men nå har jeg slettet et av mine beste bilder.

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