Fire Ears
The Walt Disney Concert Hall by Frank Gehry is a divisive but iconic fixture of deconstructive architecture in Downtown Los Angeles. According to Gehry being commissioned for the job felt like "the least likely thing to happen to me in my life."
Controversy wasn't far behind. The polished curved panels of stainless steel on the building's facade created intense hot spots around the neighborhood, not unlike sadistic children burning ants with a magnifying glass. Unconfirmed reports of bystanders roasting hot dogs in the reflected heat quickly became legendary. Blinding glare affected drivers passing the building. Nearby residential buildings noted an increased use (and cost) for air conditioning. City officials determined the building to be at fault and efforts were taken to "sand down" the panels to dull the reflective properties and mitigate the situation. Mr. Gehry defended his role in the design claiming he wasn't at fault because he had originally proposed the building be made of stone, but was overridden by his benefactors who insisted on metal. He warned them of the consequences.
Beyond creating a greenhouse effect in DTLA, the building's aesthetic was the topic of much conversation as their questions about how it "fit" within the architecture represented in the neighborhood at the time.
The design vaguely resembles a mouse. I woke up one morning hoping to photograph a more traditional twilight shot. An update to one I had captured years earlier on my first-ever trip to Los Angeles, and I was rewarded with one of the most incredible displays of light interacting with architecture I'd ever witnessed. The "ears" of the building glowed like burning embers within the first seconds of morning light. I raced around the building to cross the street and get an angle that would fit the whole scene in the frame and came away with a shot I have yet to see replicated of such a commonly photographed building. I'll have to go back to test that hot dog theory for myself.
This print is perfect for those who appreciate contemporary, deconstructive architecture and happy accidents of light.
The Walt Disney Concert Hall by Frank Gehry is a divisive but iconic fixture of deconstructive architecture in Downtown Los Angeles. According to Gehry being commissioned for the job felt like "the least likely thing to happen to me in my life."
Controversy wasn't far behind. The polished curved panels of stainless steel on the building's facade created intense hot spots around the neighborhood, not unlike sadistic children burning ants with a magnifying glass. Unconfirmed reports of bystanders roasting hot dogs in the reflected heat quickly became legendary. Blinding glare affected drivers passing the building. Nearby residential buildings noted an increased use (and cost) for air conditioning. City officials determined the building to be at fault and efforts were taken to "sand down" the panels to dull the reflective properties and mitigate the situation. Mr. Gehry defended his role in the design claiming he wasn't at fault because he had originally proposed the building be made of stone, but was overridden by his benefactors who insisted on metal. He warned them of the consequences.
Beyond creating a greenhouse effect in DTLA, the building's aesthetic was the topic of much conversation as their questions about how it "fit" within the architecture represented in the neighborhood at the time.
The design vaguely resembles a mouse. I woke up one morning hoping to photograph a more traditional twilight shot. An update to one I had captured years earlier on my first-ever trip to Los Angeles, and I was rewarded with one of the most incredible displays of light interacting with architecture I'd ever witnessed. The "ears" of the building glowed like burning embers within the first seconds of morning light. I raced around the building to cross the street and get an angle that would fit the whole scene in the frame and came away with a shot I have yet to see replicated of such a commonly photographed building. I'll have to go back to test that hot dog theory for myself.
This print is perfect for those who appreciate contemporary, deconstructive architecture and happy accidents of light.
The Walt Disney Concert Hall by Frank Gehry is a divisive but iconic fixture of deconstructive architecture in Downtown Los Angeles. According to Gehry being commissioned for the job felt like "the least likely thing to happen to me in my life."
Controversy wasn't far behind. The polished curved panels of stainless steel on the building's facade created intense hot spots around the neighborhood, not unlike sadistic children burning ants with a magnifying glass. Unconfirmed reports of bystanders roasting hot dogs in the reflected heat quickly became legendary. Blinding glare affected drivers passing the building. Nearby residential buildings noted an increased use (and cost) for air conditioning. City officials determined the building to be at fault and efforts were taken to "sand down" the panels to dull the reflective properties and mitigate the situation. Mr. Gehry defended his role in the design claiming he wasn't at fault because he had originally proposed the building be made of stone, but was overridden by his benefactors who insisted on metal. He warned them of the consequences.
Beyond creating a greenhouse effect in DTLA, the building's aesthetic was the topic of much conversation as their questions about how it "fit" within the architecture represented in the neighborhood at the time.
The design vaguely resembles a mouse. I woke up one morning hoping to photograph a more traditional twilight shot. An update to one I had captured years earlier on my first-ever trip to Los Angeles, and I was rewarded with one of the most incredible displays of light interacting with architecture I'd ever witnessed. The "ears" of the building glowed like burning embers within the first seconds of morning light. I raced around the building to cross the street and get an angle that would fit the whole scene in the frame and came away with a shot I have yet to see replicated of such a commonly photographed building. I'll have to go back to test that hot dog theory for myself.
This print is perfect for those who appreciate contemporary, deconstructive architecture and happy accidents of light.