Among some of urban life's biggest mysteries are how architects keep getting away with erecting phallic monstrosities of glass and steel. They are even rewarded by press and peers, naming these buildings the most livable (despite the fact half of the apartments are often vacant). The fortress of glass and steel lining the city harbour is downright uninviting (it's all office buildings, so it is a closed party anyway), sucking all the energy out of an area that should be full of life. I am not impressed. To me good urban architecture is about making a city livable, meeting the basic human needs. I prefer the approach of making what is already there work for you, like turning rooftops into gardens and offering sundecks to a light-deprived population.
Speaking as someone suffering her teens in a concrete brick, I would never again want to live in anything "modern", ugh you very much. Just to be clear: I am not promoting a ban on modern architecture here, I am just suggesting that it be done with real people in mind. Ah, I will earn myself a spanking for saying this one way or the other, haha. Anyway, on the subject of architecture, I find myself strangely drawn to the playfulness of these balconies:
Behold the new Copenhagen Lamp at half steam (it takes them a while to fire up to killer blue). I don't know if the pink sky drowns it out, but the balconies here are all shades of ochre, and it looked particularly appetizing on that night. Ochre + pink = yum.
None of these are from the scary era, but as houses go they are still fairly recent. I like them older, lived in and oozing history. Mmm, squeaky old wooden floors and unmodernized kitchens that you can make your own. Very near impossible to come by because at the end of the day that is what we all want. Including the architects. Go figure.