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I’ve seen many photographs of Calatrava’s City of Arts and Sciences and it’s always the beautiful compliment of architecture and engineering that strikes me. The two can often oppose one another, but this work had always seemed, from photographs at least, to have achieved a respectful balance, perhaps due to Calatrava’s own mastery and understanding
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She only ever plays a few notes. The sounds so small and weak you have to stop and concentrate to hear them. But most people simply walk on by. Amid the hubub of the street, her music goes unheard, drowned out by the incessant din of life. Sometimes you’ll catch a passerby throwing a glance
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I’m peddling along the Prinsengracht, late in the afternoon. Dawdling really, because it’s a go slow kind of day, because it’s warm and the trees are green and the tourists are out and about again, mulling around outside the Anne Frank House, and not looking where they’re going. Which always makes me laugh for some
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Saerlig Store Elgfare. Very High Elk Risk. Heading out of Oslo, it was this roadsign that really made me aware of my surroundings. Of the strangely claustrophobic amount of empty space around me. Barely an hour out of the city and already we were moving through a landscape that was vast enough to support a
