Architecture is frozen music. [Ger., Die Backunst ist eine erstarrte Musik.]
With everything that I design, from a church to a plate to skyscraper to a spoon. I am always thinking about voluptuous volumes and spaces.
The form language used by the ancient Egyptians in their structures is minimal.
Architecture is a discipline that takes time and patience. If one spends enough years writing complex novels one might be able, someday, to construct a respectable haiku.
Architecture struck me between the eye and the eyeball.
Architecture depends on its time. It is the crystallization of its inner structure, the slow unfolding of its form.
The obsession with performance left no room for the development of the intuitive or spiritual impact of space and form other than the aesthetic of the machine itself.
With products the form is almost the finished piece, but with architecture it is not.
There is no sadder tale in the annals of architecture than the virtual disappearance of the defining architectural form of the Modern Movement - publicly sponsored housing.
Architecture is my first love, if you want to talk about what moves me... the ordering of space, the visual pleasure, architecture's power to construct our days and nights.
The building is a national tragedy - a cross between a concrete candy box and a marble sarcophagus in which the art of architecture lies buried.
The size thing is not some gimmick or attention-getting trick but a genuine undercurrent of the work. Frank Gehry for instance likes to imagine his buildings as sculptures. I like to imagine my sculptures as architectural.
To be an architect is to possess an individual voice speaking a generally understood language of form.
There are no chords in modernist architecture, only lines - lines that may come to an end, but that achieve no closure
