Always I have defended that the architecture has to be made clear across a few external circumstances to her that they him are consubstantial. The architecture is not a Beautiful Art, but an arte aplicada, in small letter, that, more that to explain the life, is, or would have to be, this life. It is at the time when it works and capture felt as such. Parallel, always I have believed that there is a formal speech totally independent from these circumstances that passes as a conductive secret thread that explains part of this work as one more invariante, and that this us connects with the most irrational and instinctive part of the architect dress as artist. The good architecture is the one that has both things tied so narrowly that there is not known where it begins one and where it finishes other one.
This one is the first book that I read that it makes me doubt this reflection. His structure is strange. I am not sure that if he structures this one is his weaker part or of if, on the contrary, it is his strong point. It makes think, sure it. I explain and tint: the life and the work of the architect turn out to be almost completely loose, the life explained first, the work later, both arranged chronologically, so that the book might come near to desencuadernar to sell it as two completely independent volumes.
+ article is published in arquitectura, entre otras soluciones