With S. in Italy, I spend more of my evenings with mother. She's in her LC4 chaise lounge with a glass of rosé wine in her hand, moaning like a teenager. I looove this chair, Le Corbusier is just the best.
For a second I contemplate asking her about his Plan Voisin from the 1920s, where he wanted to tear down everything old in Paris and replace it with gigantic housing towers and scattered green areas, following a grand geometrical master plan developed in his theoretical writings. The dated and old fashioned city had to give way to the new, and the new meant more traffic and less space for people to move and live like human beings. It reminds me of downtown Los Angeles.
I glance at her, all cuddled up in her $3,000 chair with a childishly happy smile on her face. Le Corbusier was a terrorist I say before I realize she doesn't know he was a person and not a brand. She looks at me as if I was an alien and says well, Osama could never make a lounge chair like this one.