Amsterdam The Netherlands, architecture, Aspects of travel, book, Cities, Correspondence, culture, education, Frank LLoyd Wright + Lewis Mumford book title, Frank Llyod Wright, isbn 0269027998, isbn 1-56898-291-7, Isidor Pollak photographer, Lewis Mumford historian, philosophy, photography, Princeton Architectural Press, religion, Social Sciences, Spinoza philosopher
When you are not caught up in the hustle and bustle of a city and you pace your walk, you watch and collect your thoughts in a different way. Thinking about architecture and cities, especially European ones you cannot help but notice extraordinary signs both physically and spiritually of how people thought about their surroundings and ornamentation. Recently, I came across a very fascinating book about the correspondence of two great students of the last century’s architecture.
Lewis Mumford and Frank Lloyd Wright were two very erudite men from different backgrounds, one a critic and the other a practitioner of the building trade. One, who built icons of architecture and the other a historian of cities and their development. Having read a number of books by Lewis Mumford, I knew that I would thoroughly enjoy reading the exchange of thoughts between these two men in the book Frank LLoyd Wright + Lewis Mumford, Thirty Years of Correspondence.
Now back to being there! Who watches over the city? In the old days, churches had statues on them, sculptured saints or devils, angels and demons. It is not hard to find examples of this in any great city like Paris, Berlin or Rome.
Have a look here in the city of Amsterdam, the Netherlands of a statue of Baruch Spinoza (AKA Benedict Spinoza) where the thinkers and philosophers are not on the buildings, but on the street. You would think that someone cleans the plaque near the statue.
Mumford might have remarked something like, “Crossing a bridge might make you stop and reflect upon the imposing vestiges of perceived powers immortalized in stone or other material and keep you company in your quest for an unimpeded view of the water and what lies on the other side.” In fact, he did not, so the quote is entirely mine.
Back to Amsterdam, “Au bout du monde”, end the end of the world that is, before you set sail for the new spiritual world here you can admire this contemporary but wonderfully painted sign, where else but along a canal advertising what else but a bookstore!Deeper into the real story and deeper into the proverbial heart of this city of unadulterated combinations of commercial instinct and vague references to the Calvinist cause (not to be confused with the activities of the flesh taking place along some canals in the red light district) I came across this next view.
Watching over the city is this blue and gold winged angel on top of the building that must have belonged to an insurance company established in 1843. I am not sure that this foray into strict providence without divine intervention was appreciated by the neighborhood, something we can perhaps conclude from this view a stone throw away.
And here, right on top of the building, not a statue, not an architectural expression, but a slogan put there only God knows when, of what the owner’s maxim was at the time, “God Is My Castle” (burg).
A most unusual sight with its simple lettering. What a contrast between what the two buildings convey. Certainly they are of similar power to the naked eye. In the very end though, it is about size and size only, no matter how ornate the exquisite architectural impediments are.
Now imagine you could google your exact position in the universe, in the precise center of it, where would it be? In a city, in the country or in between your ears? What if those coordinates were wrong? Would your God be in the details only, at the center of the right coordinates or what if you were on an Iraqi mountain and you were waiting to be saved. What if you lived in Palmyra in Syria or waiting to cross the Mediterranean Sea?
Back to being there. Something of an entirely different nature takes place elsewhere in this city, in the newer part where God no longer is on the picture and where man has been relegated to an instrument of architectural fantasy. His place in society becomes more uncertain and uniformity hidden below a thin veneer of beauty becomes norm.