Little white house

In the dumping of publications on housing, urban planning, etc. – highly critical and uncompromising – the most depressing thing is that authors will not buy even 1 metre of these discredited solutions for themselves. In this situation, their disgust, that they would like something else, is losing a bit of strength, due to the fact that anything remains beyond their reach.

In the non-residential crisis we are experiencing (it is not a housing crisis, due to the fact that no 1 is reaching this stage), we besides have a construction boom. For the first time, fresh buildings even began to be demolished, even from the 1990s, in order to put newer ones in their place, all in the absence of the chance of a average man to buy anything in both. Thus, the improvement of the city takes place by replacing something that is not even more accessible.

Recently, there has been quite a few talk about the matrimony of Members who take all possible housing allowances for each of them, and they don't even have adequate to rent 1 apartment; regret has come to us because, in order to live at our expense, Members will gotta choose their matrimony triangles.

From interesting observations urban planner Agnieszka Labus printed in Common Weekly (Interesting, however, how many centimeters of her flat is enough) we learn, however, that regardless of all the changes, her students see their future in the fact that “They will decision to the countryside and there will be a tiny white home by the forest”. The permanence of this dream and its inability to change is astonishing, and it even touches me. I remember that erstwhile I went to school (and it was – a bagatela – in the year... 1961) in the first class, the woman told us to draw a home and the full class scribbled something like this. At the same time, all children lived in blocks on the fresh estate, but although they knew only this, they did not consider them home. I drew this small house, too, but the smoke from the chimney grew so large in the drawing that the building was not visible from behind the black cloud that covered it. The another kids got a five, and I got a 4 due to the fact that you didn't believe there was anything under the cloud. To this day I find it very unfair, as things are happening in Silesia and all the houses looked just like this, making my drawing much more realistic than the others.

After all these years, architecture students don't want to go back to a home like they didn't even mentally decision out of it. There is now a choice, for which it will not be seen: from behind smokes from the chimney or from behind photovoltaic panels.

The longing for and to the white home was established in an even older, celebrated song by Mieczysław Fogg, whose lyrics were more perceptive than could be expected. "A tiny white home in my memory is in my dreams" – Fogg sang, amazed himself. “Someone wonders that this cottage is remembered”, doing it even a small grammatically: "who so tickles me, at night in the background of the stars". However, he explained: "The sad song of today's game and the longing wakes up/the ghost of my dreams haunts me", which even had certain professional features.

This is due to the fact that our powerful, atavistic bond with a tiny white home was one more time expressed by the form obtained by the Museum of Modern Art in Warsaw, built – what a coincidence – on Marszałkowska Street, almost precisely where the "Cafe Fogg" was located, where it predicted its further fate. The museum resembles a barn without windows built into the Palace of Culture and Science. Like any cowshed, it will require constant bleaching, and to be bleached in public, it needs to be done now. She was stood up so that she seemed to want to throw herself under a tram passing by Marszałkowska, and no wonder.

However, it retains an amazing resemblance to the Palace of Culture, at whose feet it stands: as it consists of empty and unnecessary corridors and staircases, to nothing. This architectural cohesion was someway not noticed by anyone: neither by those who are the building terrified, nor by those who are only shocked. It reminded me of my merit in architecture theory. (Sorry to brag about it today, but I think it's for what). erstwhile I cast a loose reflection about the Palace that it was built only from corridors, it was considered specified a discovery that I received praise for it in the industry's architectural monthly magazine. Architects frequently request individual who does not know to open their eyes.