“Now that it is spring, everything is marvelous and in bloom. I went for a walk in the hospital’s garden and took in the smell of it, and I said to myself: ‘Do you really want to go into retirement to be with the grandchildren? On a day like this, where would you rather be?’ And my answer to myself is: ‘I want to be here, at the side of these patients. I want to be with these patients. I want to heal these patients.’ ”
About 20 years ago, Barr added a movie room onto his cabin. It has a projector, carpeted walls, and three chairs.
"I have a nice chair for me and I have two other chairs with the idea that I'd invite people up," he said. "And I never do."
The birth of the internet promised us a Great Library of Alexandria for the digital age. The content of this library, however, turns out to be more ephemeral than we hoped it would be. Hyperlinks lead us to places that no longer seem to exist. The iconic 404 error marks the presence of absence — the website as a wasteland. It reminds us that digital content is never static; every “refresh” might show a new layer of information concealing the archeology underneath.
Today the constructs that form our understanding of the world are being continually out-paced by the sheer force and speed of technological, political and social change. Modernism’s methodologies of mapping, designing, planning, for controlling and changing deeply complex systems may not be the answer to the challenges we face. Maybe we need to go underground — working in networked, symbiotic companionships, like mycelial arrangements, to generate infinite micro-revolutions.
Early on we fell in love with one family: Akzidenz Grotesk. Designed by unnamed punch-cutters and craftsmen during the 19th century, it remains a symbol of modernism thanks to its classic neutral and unadorned shapes. A typeface made to serve. As is common with metal period typefaces with multiple creators, Akzidenz has strong discrepancies between different sizes of the same weight, as well as between different weights.