Love Letters to Dead Architects: Without You, Summer is like Winter and Winter Is Even Worse.

Dear Francesco Borromini,

I hope you know it’s not as bad as it seems. Sure, you’re a frumpy, whiney, smelly, poor kid, but you’ve got something that Bernini will never have: CHARACTER. Bernini is like that guy in high-school who never had to go through an awkward phase and therefore all of his friends are dicks and he has, like, no personality.

But you Mini, (its ok if I call you Mini right? I’m just going to do it anyway) you understand things that Bernini never will, things like how advanced geometry is more organic than simplistic Vitruvian forms and have a greater capacity for light and shape. Or that Vatican Hill is structurally unsound and can’t support ridiculously large bell-towers. You don’t need those phonies; you’re not part of their system because you’re your own man. Bernini will get his; he’s been stealing your ideas for years and claiming them as their own. First there was the Baldachino which was so unfair and don’t get me started on San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane and Church of Saint Andrew's at the Quirinal. I mean that was just blatant.

Remember that I believe in you. You can change the world. That is, if you can get over this obsession you have with Bernini. Just let him go, you’re better than that. And whatever you do, DO NOT impale yourself on a sword to prove a point. You did that when you were 14 with that pencil, it didn’t work then and it won’t work now.

I love you,

Retly Corm.

My Dear Kenzo Tange,

A valiant attempt. Yes, it was I who took out Team X and you, understandably so, sought me out for revenge. You almost had it too, but I’m afraid the sushi restaurant was just a red herring. Which as it turns out, they serve there too.

It’s time for me to hide somewhere sunny and remote. Don’t try and follow me, there will come a time when I’m sure we will meet again, but you’re not ready. Not yet anyway.

In the mean time, discover your country and yourself through a new kind of architecture. You have a tragic and unique opportunity to become the phoenix that rises from the ashes. Embrace those elements of the architectural character that defined your nation and forget the rest. Put your mind away from retribution and put it towards evolution. I know you have the skill, heart, discipline and determination to do this. Trust me, you belong in Japan.

Never forget your past, but don’t dwell on that you cannot change. Team X is gone, but you can make something better, something meta.

Kiss with a fist,

Retly Corm

Dear Henry Van De Velde,

I understand why you had to go, but why didn’t you take me with you? I would have gone, if you had asked.

You may not have thought so, but you did belong here, at the Deutche Werkbund. The only person who cared about you not being German was you.

If it weren’t for you, none of the work could have been possible. You, who would stand up to Hermann Muthesius when no one else could. You, who got the designers and engineers to get over themselves and collaborate. You, who fought for the importance of individual input in mass production as opposed to collective anonymity, you were everything to them…and to me.

I never told you, I should have, I know that now.

Maybe you will read this and feel the same way about me. Maybe you’ll remember our late nights and early mornings in the studio. Maybe someday you’ll return.

However, if you do, you will find me like the Werkbund, ever the same and irretrievably changed.

Yours, in this moment, forever,

Retly Corm

My Dear Mnesicles,

We can never undo what has happened. However, I know, that while the war that inspired your work will effect your friends, enemies, family, etc. etc. forever, no one will remember that.

They will remember your arch at the Acropolis.

Oh my love, the things it will see and the things that will see it. Your creations is like a life itself, perfect in conception, always looking to please, loved and abused by humanity and nature, bitter, forgiving, tired, democratic, exclusive and better for the experience.

Its heart will beat like a hammer when all that’s left of man are myths and names in sand that was once concrete.

Be mnine,

Retly Corm

Dear Frank Lloyd Wright,

This has got to stop. I can’t be around you. Not now. Not Ever.
Admit it, we’re basically ‘enemies with benefits’.
I hate talking to you, you hate listening to me and we can’t get enough of each other.
It doesn’t make sense and it can’t last.

Yes, your attention to detail is second to none and by designing via additive form instead of a solid whole, you have revolutionized the field. Not to mention rejecting exclusively euro-centric design concepts could not be hotter. BUT! Could you be more obnoxious about it? I submit not.

My biggest problem is that you keep putting women up on this (#1) ridiculous #2) unfair) pedestal. The world does not revolve around you Frank, and maybe, just maybe women don’t actually want to serve/service you 24 hours a day. I know it sounds absurd, but maybe they want to be somewhere that’s not a kitchen or, my favorite, chained to a desk.

That’s right; I’m talking straight up Johnson Wax Building. What was that? Seriously.

You’re a genius. I get it. That doesn’t mean you can be a total schlong.

I’m leaving and I’m not going to miss you. Don’t pretend to be hurt, I know you can’t stand me either.

Never Really Yours,

Retly Corm