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I came across this stack of old Wallpaper city guides while reorganizing a few things over the weekend (because that's what happens on the weekends now). They are pretty beat up and color faded from travel. It looks like these guides are still being published by Phaidon (along with an app), but it's been well over a decade since I bought one.
I know the exact time period of the above books because I used to do really nerdy things like date and location stamp them when I got them. The Rome book was July 2007 and I picked it up in Dublin, while I was there working for a real estate developer before the global financial crisis. I also discovered old phone numbers and email addresses written inside of them. Usually it was a Hotmail address.
What I liked about these guides is that they were fairly condensed -- good for a long weekend -- and they were generally design-focused -- perfect for architecture nerds like me. Their restaurant, bar, and club selections were also just fine as a jumping off point. After that it was up to you to make your own adventure.
I sent this photo to my friend Alex Feldman over the weekend -- he also went without any sleep in Berlin -- and he reminded me what it was like at this time. This was 2007. The first iPhone was just being released. Its map functionality was nowhere near what it is today (or didn't exist). And I certainly didn't have one. I had a Blackberry with a plastic wheel on the side. It was basically a giant pager.
To navigate a city at this time meant using a physical map. It also meant getting repeatedly lost and having to ask real people where to go. Alex also reminded me that I made him wander all around Berlin so that I could buy a new pair of glasses. What can I say, this was pre-laser Brandon and I needed cool architect glasses. They ended up being red.
As frustrating as this must have been at times, there's something nice about traveling without knowing each and every step and without being able to summon an Uber at any point in time to take you exactly where you want to go. In fact, this is probably the central ingredient of all good travel: you need to allow yourself to be open to new experiences.
One of the great lessons of Anthony Bourdain was that you have to get out of your comfort zone. Cities have both highs and lows, but there's real value and authenticity in the lows if you're willing to engage beneath the surface. Perhaps that is the irony of old fashioned guide books in the pre-smartphone era. They were supposed to tell you exactly where to go, but they actually helped you find the opposite.
The only city that I never actually got around to visiting from the above stack is São Paulo. As you can tell, Brazil has been on my list for many years. I did make it to Rio de Janeiro a few years ago and São Paulo was supposed to be October 2020. But I'm pretty sure that trip will need to wait. Maybe I should leave my phone at home.
Phaidon -- publisher of books on art, design, architecture, food, and fashion -- has a new publication coming out this summer called, Studio Gang: Architecture. They are describing it as: "An in-depth exploration of one of the most important, innovative, and creative architecture practices working today." As most of you know, we are working with Studio Gang on an important project in midtown Toronto. And so we are of course thrilled to see the firm's work being celebrated. To pre-order a copy of the book, click here. They are supposed to start shipping around mid-May.
Joshua Levine's recent (WSJ Magazine) piece on John Pawson, -- the architect who "elevated nothingness to an art" -- is a good read.
It's mostly about the country retreat that he recently completed for himself and his wife in the English countryside, but there's also lots about his minimalist architecture, his career, his work with hotelier/developer Ian Schrager, and his passion for photography.
I like this bit about architectural simplicity. The great irony of minimalism, and the reason why brands such as Calvin Klein and Jil Sander began working with John Pawson to leverage his aesthetic, is that it's often more difficult to do less. Getting the details right costs money. Hence this great line from the New Yorker:
As the New Yorker cartoon put it, “Only the rich can afford this much nothing.” Don’t expect a rebuttal from Pawson. “It is big, and it is expensive, you know. It’s sophisticated architectural simplicity. This isn’t a religious thing, and it isn’t as simple as you can go. You can go a lot simpler than this.”
I also like what the following says about labels and what it means to be defined as something:
Slowing down for Pawson isn’t all that slow. He takes photos constantly and has always used the camera as his third eye. In 2017, Phaidon published Spectrum, a book of his photos, many of them first posted on his Instagram (“I said, ‘Well, I’m not a photographer,’ and they said, ‘You are a photographer,’ so now I’m a photographer”).
Click here for the rest of the article from WSJ Magazine. And if you aren't familiar with John Pawson, here is his minimal website.
Photo: Max Gleeson (Armonia Apartments designed by John Pawson)
I came across this stack of old Wallpaper city guides while reorganizing a few things over the weekend (because that's what happens on the weekends now). They are pretty beat up and color faded from travel. It looks like these guides are still being published by Phaidon (along with an app), but it's been well over a decade since I bought one.
I know the exact time period of the above books because I used to do really nerdy things like date and location stamp them when I got them. The Rome book was July 2007 and I picked it up in Dublin, while I was there working for a real estate developer before the global financial crisis. I also discovered old phone numbers and email addresses written inside of them. Usually it was a Hotmail address.
What I liked about these guides is that they were fairly condensed -- good for a long weekend -- and they were generally design-focused -- perfect for architecture nerds like me. Their restaurant, bar, and club selections were also just fine as a jumping off point. After that it was up to you to make your own adventure.
I sent this photo to my friend Alex Feldman over the weekend -- he also went without any sleep in Berlin -- and he reminded me what it was like at this time. This was 2007. The first iPhone was just being released. Its map functionality was nowhere near what it is today (or didn't exist). And I certainly didn't have one. I had a Blackberry with a plastic wheel on the side. It was basically a giant pager.
To navigate a city at this time meant using a physical map. It also meant getting repeatedly lost and having to ask real people where to go. Alex also reminded me that I made him wander all around Berlin so that I could buy a new pair of glasses. What can I say, this was pre-laser Brandon and I needed cool architect glasses. They ended up being red.
As frustrating as this must have been at times, there's something nice about traveling without knowing each and every step and without being able to summon an Uber at any point in time to take you exactly where you want to go. In fact, this is probably the central ingredient of all good travel: you need to allow yourself to be open to new experiences.
One of the great lessons of Anthony Bourdain was that you have to get out of your comfort zone. Cities have both highs and lows, but there's real value and authenticity in the lows if you're willing to engage beneath the surface. Perhaps that is the irony of old fashioned guide books in the pre-smartphone era. They were supposed to tell you exactly where to go, but they actually helped you find the opposite.
The only city that I never actually got around to visiting from the above stack is São Paulo. As you can tell, Brazil has been on my list for many years. I did make it to Rio de Janeiro a few years ago and São Paulo was supposed to be October 2020. But I'm pretty sure that trip will need to wait. Maybe I should leave my phone at home.
Phaidon -- publisher of books on art, design, architecture, food, and fashion -- has a new publication coming out this summer called, Studio Gang: Architecture. They are describing it as: "An in-depth exploration of one of the most important, innovative, and creative architecture practices working today." As most of you know, we are working with Studio Gang on an important project in midtown Toronto. And so we are of course thrilled to see the firm's work being celebrated. To pre-order a copy of the book, click here. They are supposed to start shipping around mid-May.
Joshua Levine's recent (WSJ Magazine) piece on John Pawson, -- the architect who "elevated nothingness to an art" -- is a good read.
It's mostly about the country retreat that he recently completed for himself and his wife in the English countryside, but there's also lots about his minimalist architecture, his career, his work with hotelier/developer Ian Schrager, and his passion for photography.
I like this bit about architectural simplicity. The great irony of minimalism, and the reason why brands such as Calvin Klein and Jil Sander began working with John Pawson to leverage his aesthetic, is that it's often more difficult to do less. Getting the details right costs money. Hence this great line from the New Yorker:
As the New Yorker cartoon put it, “Only the rich can afford this much nothing.” Don’t expect a rebuttal from Pawson. “It is big, and it is expensive, you know. It’s sophisticated architectural simplicity. This isn’t a religious thing, and it isn’t as simple as you can go. You can go a lot simpler than this.”
I also like what the following says about labels and what it means to be defined as something:
Slowing down for Pawson isn’t all that slow. He takes photos constantly and has always used the camera as his third eye. In 2017, Phaidon published Spectrum, a book of his photos, many of them first posted on his Instagram (“I said, ‘Well, I’m not a photographer,’ and they said, ‘You are a photographer,’ so now I’m a photographer”).
Click here for the rest of the article from WSJ Magazine. And if you aren't familiar with John Pawson, here is his minimal website.
Photo: Max Gleeson (Armonia Apartments designed by John Pawson)
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