In the creatively stifling era of the soviet empire, architects exercised their imagination across the land in the one place they could: bus stops. Each one is unique, and doubles as a signature for the architect. Many of them are theatrical in quality, as though each man and woman waiting for a bus is merely a player in the stage of life, pausing between scenes. Others appear like beautiful picture frames, elevating the mundanity of waiting for a bus. Some of them seem to engage with the landscape, either in striking opposition or in harmonious response. Above all, each one appears like a porthole to another world.
some things make sense to me and i don’t really expect them to make sense to other people. like today, for example. i was at union station in los angeles and i had an hour to kill before my train, so i went for a random walk around the random area around the station. and i found this odd concrete brutalist parking bunker.
to me it looked beautiful. so beautiful that if it were a home i’d want to live there. and that’s the part that i assume wouldn’t make sense to other people. that a brutalist concrete parking bunker could be beautiful and that someone (in this case: me) would want to live there. maybe a cozy couple of rooms within the brutalist concrete parking bunker.
but isn’t it beautiful? i love utilitarian architecture and design that are accidentally beautiful. i don’t imagine that too many people stop to notice this beautiful parking bunker as they’re rushing to park their cars so they can take the train to the beach. but i noticed it and loved it.
if you need to send me mail in the future just address it: ‘moby c/o brutalist parking structure behind union station los angeles, ca’
and i’ll be living in the basement turning into gollum.