I'm going to read a few strips. These are, most of these are from a monthly page I do in and architecture and design magazine called Metropolis.
我會給大家解讀一些我的作品 這些,大多數是 我為了建築和設計類月刊雜志 所畫的漫畫頁 叫做:大都會。
And the first story is called "The Faulty Switch."
第一個故事叫做: “惱人的開關”。
Another beautifully designed new building ruined by the sound of a common wall light switch. It's fine during the day when the main rooms are flooded with sunlight. But at dusk everything changes.
這又是一座設計精美的嶄新建築, 卻又一次的被電燈開關聲音糟蹋了。 白天的時候一切都很美好, 那時候屋裏鋪滿了陽光。 但是到了傍晚, 所有的一切都變了。
The architect spent hundreds of hours designing the burnished brass switchplates for his new office tower. And then left it to a contractor to install these 79-cent switches behind them.
建築設計師花費了數百小時, 來設計那些鋥亮的銅質開關板, 用來裝在新的辦公樓裏。 然後把剩余工作交給承包方, 讓承包方自己去安裝那些價值79美分的開關。
We know instinctively where to reach when we enter a dark room. We automatically throw the little nub of plastic upward. But the sound we are greeted with, as the room is bathed in the simulated glow of late-afternoon light, recalls to mind a dirty men's room in the rear of a Greek coffee shop. (Laughter)
我們知道進入一間黑暗的屋子 會本能的向哪摸。 我們會下意識的把塑料開關往上撥。 在屋子沐浴在 人工的下午陽光中時, 歡迎我們的開關聲, 讓我們想起的, 卻是骯臟的男廁, 還是在希臘咖啡店裏間的那種。 (笑聲)
This sound colors our first impression of any room; it can't be helped. But where does this sound, commonly described as a click, come from? Is it simply the byproduct of a crude mechanical action? Or is it an imitation of one half the set of sounds we make to express disappointment? The often dental consonant of no Indo-European language.
這聲音描繪了我們對屋子的第一印象。 而它確是如此的惱人。 那麽這種開關的“哢噠聲”, 這又是從哪裏得來的呢? 這是否僅僅是 粗糙的機械制造工藝的副產品? 或者它只是 對大部分我們表示失望情緒的聲音 進行的某種模仿? 這聲音是非印歐語系中 常用的輔音。
Or is it the amplified sound of a synapse firing in the brain of a cockroach? In the 1950s they tried their best to muffle this sound with mercury switches and silent knob controls.
又或者這是 蟑螂大腦中 神經元激活聲音的放大? 在20世紀50年代,人們盡最大的可能 來消除這種聲音 其中使用了水银開關, 和靜音旋鈕控制器。
But today these improvements seem somehow inauthentic. The click is the modern triumphal clarion proceeding us through life, announcing our entry into every lightless room.
但是在今天,這些成果 看起來沒有太大的必要了。 這“哢噠聲”成了現代社會 勝利的號角, 伴隨我們的一生, 來宣告我們進入了一間昏暗的屋子。
The sound made flicking a wall switch off is of a completely different nature. It has a deep melancholy ring. Children don't like it. It's why they leave lights on around the house. (Laughter) Adults find it comforting.
關掉墻上開關時“啪”的聲音, 卻有一種不同的風情。 它是一種深深憂郁的聲音。 孩子們不喜歡它。 所以他們離開屋子不喜歡關燈。 成年人卻覺得這聲音很舒服。
But wouldn't it be an easy matter to wire a wall switch so that it triggers the muted horn of a steam ship? Or the recorded crowing of a rooster? Or the distant peel of thunder?
但是如果我們讓開關接通 來播放減弱的蒸汽船汽笛聲 會不會讓事情簡單一點? 或者播放雞鳴的聲音? 又或者播放遠處的雷聲?
Thomas Edison went through thousands of unlikely substances before he came upon the right one for the filament of his electric light bulb. Why have we settled so quickly for the sound of its switch? That's the end of that. (Applause)
湯瑪斯·愛迪生當年 試了幾千種不太成功的材料 終於找到了適合的材料 適合做電燈泡燈絲的材料。 為什麽我們這麽快 就屈從與這種聲音? 這就是我要講的第一個故事。 (掌聲)
The next story is called "In Praise of the Taxpayer."
我要講的下一個故事叫做 “小屋納稅人的贊美詩”。
That so many of the city's most venerable taxpayers have survived yet another commercial building boom, is cause for celebration.
城市中大多數令人尊重的納稅人 都熬到了下一次商業建築建設潮 很是值得慶幸。
These one or two story structures, designed to yield only enough income to cover the taxes on the land on which they stand, were not meant to be permanent buildings. Yet for one reason or another they have confounded the efforts of developers to be combined into lots suitable for high-rise construction.
那些一兩層建築, 設計的初衷也只是讓人有足夠的收入 讓他們能夠付得起 他們腳下這塊地的稅 並無意建成永久建築。 由於種種原因 這些低層建築讓開發商非常頭疼 開發商想把他們合成一塊大地皮 好在上面建設高層建築。
Although they make no claim to architectural beauty, they are, in their perfect temporariness, a delightful alternative to the large-scale structures that might someday take their place. The most perfect examples occupy corner lots. They offer a pleasant respite from the high-density development around them. A break of light and air, an architectural biding of time.
盡管這些低層建築談不上什麽建築美感, 但它們在存在的短暫時間裏 也是高樓林立的建築群中 一道亮麗的風景線 盡管最終這些建築是要被高層建築取代的。 最好的例子 就是拐角處的房子。 這是高密度建築群中 的世外桃源。 提供著陽光和新鮮空氣, 這個建築在和時間賽跑。
So buried in signage are these structures, that it often takes a moment to distinguish the modern specially constructed taxpayer from its neighbor: the small commercial building from an earlier century, whose upper floors have been sealed, and whose groundfloor space now functions as a taxpayer. The few surfaces not covered by signs are often clad in a distinctive, dark green-gray, striated aluminum siding. Take-out sandwich shops, film processing drop-offs, peep-shows and necktie stores.
被各種廣告標誌淹沒的 這些小建築 要把它們從 傍邊精心設計的 現代建築中區分出來 確實要花些時間。 這些上個世紀的 小型商業建築 二樓都被封了起來, 它們的一層店面 現在營業著,并繳著稅。 那些許沒有被廣告遮蓋的表面 經常被包裹在易於區分的 暗蒼綠色的鋁條牆板下。 三明治快餐店, 照片洗印店, 豔舞表演俱樂部和領帶小店。
Now these provisional structures have, in some cases, remained standing for the better part of a human lifetime. The temporary building is a triumph of modern industrial organization, a healthy sublimation of the urge to build, and proof that not every architectural idea need be set in stone. That's the end. (Laughter)
現在這些臨時建築 在某些情況下 依然倖存 並使人們生活的更美好 這些臨時建築 是現代工業重組的成果。 是建築狂潮中 某種人性化的昇華。 並且證明了 並不是每個建築的設想 都必須一成不變的付諸實施。 這就是第二個故事。 (掌聲)
And the next story is called, "On the Human Lap." For the ancient Egyptians the lap was a platform upon which to place the earthly possessions of the dead -- 30 cubits from foot to knee.
下一個故事叫做“在人類的大腿上”。 對於古埃及人來說 大腿是一個平臺 在上面放置 死去的人生前的財產 從腳到膝蓋有30腕尺高。
It was not until the 14th century that an Italian painter recognized the lap as a Grecian temple, upholstered in flesh and cloth. Over the next 200 years we see the infant Christ go from a sitting to a standing position on the Virgin's lap, and then back again. Every child recapitulates this ascension, straddling one or both legs, sitting sideways, or leaning against the body.
直到14世紀 有一個意大利畫家 把大腿比作 古希臘的神廟, 墊著衣服和肉體。 此後的200年 我們看到嬰兒時的耶穌 在聖母的大腿上, 從坐姿改為站姿。 又從站姿改為坐姿。 每個圖畫中的耶穌 或者騎在腿上 斜坐著, 或者靠在聖母身上。
From there, to the modern ventriloquist's dummy, is but a brief moment in history. You were late for school again this morning. The ventriloquist must first make us believe that a small boy is sitting on his lap. The illusion of speech follows incidentally. What have you got to say for yourself, Jimmy?
從那時起到現在腹語者的玩偶都是如此, 但也僅僅是歷史長河中的一瞬。 “你今天上學又遲到了。” 腹語者首先要使我們相信 手裡的“小男孩兒”是坐在他腿上的。 然後我們便自然產生了一種對話的幻覺。 “吉米,你有什麽遲到的理由么?”
As adults we admire the lap from a nostalgic distance. We have fading memories of that provisional temple, erected each time an adult sat down. On a crowded bus there was always a lap to sit on. It is children and teenage girls who are most keenly aware of its architectural beauty. They understand the structural integrity of a deep avuncular lap, as compared to the shaky arrangement of a neurotic niece in high heels.
作為成年人,我們喜歡大腿 是對童年時代的懷念。 我們對那個“臨時神廟”的記憶 正在慢慢消退, 當一個人坐下的時候建起的“神廟”。 在擁擠的公車上,總有一條大腿可以讓人坐下。 那些孩子們和少女們 最能敏銳的體會到 這“神廟”的建築之美。 他們能從父輩的大腿 體會到他們的正直, 也能從穿高跟鞋的侄女 搖搖晃晃的大腿體會出她神經質的一面。
The relationship between the lap and its owner is direct and intimate. I envision a 36-story, 450-unit residential high-rise -- a reason to consider the mental health of any architect before granting an important commission. The bathrooms and kitchens will, of course, have no windows. The lap of luxury is an architectural construct of childhood, which we seek, in vain, as adults, to employ. That's the end. (Laughter)
人和他們的大腿之間的關係 是直接而親密的。 設想一個36層 有450套住房的高層住宅樓 用來在簽合同之前 檢測建築設計師的 心理健康程度。 洗手間和廚房 當然是沒有窗戶的。 舒適的大腿 是兒時最理想的建築設計 而我們作為一個成年人, 只能去徒勞的求索和利用這些設計。 這就是我講的第三個故事。 (掌聲)
The next story is called "The Haverpiece Collection" A nondescript warehouse, visible for a moment from the northbound lanes of the Prykushko Expressway, serves as the temporary resting place for the Haverpiece collection of European dried fruit.
下一個故事叫做“哈佛皮斯的收藏” 一座普普通通的倉庫, 在普利庫什克高速路向北一側 你有時會注意到它, 倉庫當時作為保存那些 歐洲風乾水果的臨時場所, 那些來自歐洲的風乾水果。
The profound convolutions on the surface of a dried cherry. The foreboding sheen of an extra-large date.
這裡有表面 深深捲曲的干櫻桃。 有神秘的光澤巨大的棗子。
Do you remember wandering as a child through those dark wooden storefront galleries? Where everything was displayed in poorly labeled roach-proof bins.
你可曾記得兒時 漫步在那些 木質裝潢的美術館前? 那裡所有的東西 都在沒有標識的防蟑螂箱子里裝著。
Pears dried in the form of genital organs. Apricot halves like the ears of cherubim.
風幹的梨的形狀 像生殖器一樣。 切成一半的風乾的杏 像天使的耳朵一樣可愛。
In 1962 the unsold stock was purchased by Maurice Haverpiece, a wealthy prune juice bottler, and consolidated to form the core collection. As an art form it lies somewhere between still-life painting and plumbing.
在1962年,這些沒有出售的存貨 都被莫裡斯·哈佛皮斯買走了, 他是一個富有的瓶裝西梅汁生產商, 他把這些存貨作為他的核心收藏。 作為一種藝術形式 它可以算作介於靜物畫和雜役之間的一種東西。
Upon his death in 1967, a quarter of the items were sold off for compote to a high-class hotel restaurant. (Laughter) Unsuspecting guests were served stewed turn-of-the-century Turkish figs for breakfast. (Laughter)
在他1967年去世時, ¼ 的收藏被作為蜜餞賣掉, 被賣到高級飯館。 (笑聲) 毫不知情的消費者 把用六七十年前的土耳其無花果 做成的燉菜當成早餐吃掉。 (笑聲)
The rest of the collection remains here, stored in plain brown paper bags until funds can be raised to build a permanent museum and study center.
剩下的那部份收藏至今還在, 保存在棕色紙袋裏面 等著集資 來建造一座永久性的博物館 和研究中心來保存它們。
A shoe made of apricot leather for the daughter of a czar.
一雙給沙皇女兒的 杏皮做的鞋。
That's the end. Thank you. (Applause)
這就是我講的最後一個故事。謝謝! (掌聲)