Truth hurts.


No matter how hard it strives to become otherworldly, architecture is ultimately grounded in the messy reality of people's lives. There are two ways an architect can look at with this: People and their lives are either the life-blood of architecture, or people and their lives just mess up a self-referential, self-contained architectural world.
For me, Mies, belongs in the second camp. When I see his buildings in the context of people's daily lives, they always look out of place.
Mies created a pristine, classical architecture so fragile that the solemnity of an important project like the New National Gallery collapses when one notices the "flying bird" decals that are plastered on the gallery's windows to keep pigeons from crashing into them.