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I first heard of
Hundertwasser
around 1990 after my friend
Andrea came
back from a year of study abroad. She showed me pictures of the Kunsthaus
in Vienna and it was so cool his name stuck with me until my
first visit to that city 14 years later. I
visited the Kunsthaus and
admired the various works of Hundertwasser the artist, architect, and ecologist,
but what really struck me was a scale model for an proposed village called
Rolling
Hills. The buildings were colorful, irregular, and built into the landscape,
with arched
green
rooves serving as bridges and of course no automobiles. Just a few months
ago, I found out that a version
of Rolling Hills had been built as a health resort in rural Austria at
Bad Blumau. As soon as
I saw the pictures I knew I had to visit, so Sarah took me there (along with
Dan and Julie) for a one-night birthday stay. It surpassed all expectations.
The labyrinthine network of connected indoor/outdoor geothermal pools were
a joy to explore, the food was excellent, and the architecture a delight.
The curves of asymmetrical buildings
flowed into the
surroundings, windows were arranged
not in a grid
but unevenly placed, doors did
not match, and everywhere were
exuberant colors and handcrafted
tilework. We kept asking why more architecture couldn't be this whimsical
and imaginative. The answer we came up with was a combination of blind adherence
to status quo, an inflated sense of self-importance and rigidity of thought,
and cost. Cookie cutter development is simpler, faster, and cheaper, but
in the end the costs are greater, both to psyche as well as environment and
community when shoddy unimaginative buildings need to be replaced before
too long.
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