My Retirement at Ury So Far
2021 - 2024
2024.04.30
Miers Fisher was also in town 212 years ago today:
30 April 1812 Thursday
Judge Rush was kind enough to call on me before 7 and took my acknowledgement. After breakfast I went out, visited at Dr. Griffith's, my brother's, T Gilpin's, T Coxe's to ask for my agreement for lands in company with Pickering & Co. for lands in Lycoming County[?] which I lent him to send to Lancaster to be recorded--it is not yet returned, J Reed about my settlement for 4th St. lot. Dined at SL's and returned home in the evening. The morning was cloudy, winds NEerly, came round to SE. Thin clouds midday.
I took the 11:23 train from Fox Chase to Suburban Staion, visited the Pennsylvaia Academy of the Fine Arts Archive, then took the 02:35 train from Suburban Station back to Fox Chase, and was home by 03:15 (very hungry).
 
And here we have Hoang Tran, Director of Archives and Collections, literally holding up Trajan's Column early this afternoon at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts Archives. I've never seen this Piranesi print in person before, and had no idea of its enormous extent. Sharon was also witness to this happy event.
Plus, I have a feeling that there is a real possibility that the missing Volume 10: Champ de Mars will eventually be found.
2024.04.30
From The Discovery of Piranesi's Final Project:
30 April 2023 Sunday
I spent the little bit of free time I had yesterday web (re)searching Leonid Mikhelson.
Why?
Because it would be great if he added Mary Boone's 180 hours of community service to his art collection.
Over a year ago now, JP always said, "Stranger things have happened," whenever I talked about my art project ideas that were going to provide the opportunity for me to make money selling my art and thus manifest a solution to and a relief from the ever exhausting task of caregiving for my brother.
Well, good strange things have been happening over the past eleven months, most of which stem from the discovery of Piranesi's final project and all that that has brought to bear thus far.
Then, Saturday a week ago, while Russia's military actions against Ukraine continued to intensify, a huge art explosive was dropped on me from the House of Culture, Moscow--they want to feature my theory of chronosomatics, specifically The Timepiece of Humanity within an exhibition there this summer.
Even though I rarely think or talk about it much anymore, the theory of chronosomatics is the one creation of mine that I value the most. The curatorial team at the House of Culture have incredible aim, yet I doubt they expected me to drop huge art explosives right back at them, several days of elating back and forth 'blasts' in fact.
In no way do I wish my "explosives" and "blasts" metaphors to come off as glib or completely insensitive or, worse, vile. The fact that my brother and I would never have even come into existence were it not for our parents having met in a Soviet labor concentration camp in southern Ukraine 1945-1949, actually gives me feelings of impunity, albeit with inevitable unease. Our parents were not Russians; they were ethnic Germans of eastern Europe who immediately became refugees at the end of World War II--the victorious Soviets collected all the new refugees between the ages of 18 and 45 and sent them to camps further eastwards via locomotive boxcars. Our father and mother were 21 and 20 years old respectively when they first arrived, and then soon became coal miners.
As always, when I think or write about this stuff, my emotions temporarily reach the point of overwhelming, so I'll stop for now. And besides, it's time to give my brother another drink. It's just the two of us on Sundays.
2023.04.30
Green Enfilade House Flooring Design
2021.04.30
zero nine seven
2018.04.30
Koolhaas versus the Actor
Rita Novel was born in a Philadelphia upstairs disco bar circa 1984/85, a twin birth, in fact. Crystal Carrington had been kidnapped, but the kidnappers first found a Crystal look-a-like named Rita, and hence executed a kidnapping cum exchange. Among cultish friends and after various stimulants there emerged Rita Novel subsequent to Crystal Vanish.
There is a constant cry for attention, attention to the fact that links in cyberspace architecturally communicate as much as doors and windows and promenades communicate in real space. Come into my architecture, visit my architecture, inhabit my architecture, leave my architecture. No admission charge, however.
Simple html is Quondam's only real structure, and the linearity at Quondam is subject to the linearity of passing time. "Loose and rigid at the same time" is what makes Quondam sustainable from this architect's two hands point of view. Otherwise, all museums are all about content, aren't they?
I don't give a shit what architects think about Tafuri, what I do care about is what architects know about Piranesi's Ichnographia Campus Martius. If architects and their educators choose to ignore long term rigorous research regarding the Ichnographia Campus Martius that literally far surpasses what are otherwise only Tafuri's speculations, then what does that say about architect's being sensitive and attune to existing conditions, programmatic demands, environmental factors, etc., etc.?
Is Quondam subliminally a museum about getting under architect's skin?
Does anyone else here remember dancing to the song Ring My Bell?
"Go in museumpeace, and may museumpeace be with you."
2005.04.30
Quaestio Abstrusa background 319
2001.04.30
Quaestio Abstrusa background 360
2001.04.30
Quaestio Abstrusa background 381
2001.04.30
Quaestio Abstrusa background 384
2001.04.30
Quaestio Abstrusa background 390
2001.04.30
Exhibit Proposal for the Jessica Berwind Gallery
1992.04.30
artist's proof
1991.04.30
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