Wouldn't you love to see the lovely rendering on the cover of the blueprints? With probably one or two architectonic stick-figures walking their architectonic stick-dog on a leash? All of them as flat and feature-free as this building itself, so as to properly coordinate with The Architect's grand vision? In which messy three-dimensional humans wouldn't clutter His Building's environment?
Sadly, this strident monstrosity has been hurled into a really vibrant spot. That's a local branch of the Sorbonne right next to it, with a great library, so loads of people move through it. And across the street is le Renaissance, a perfectly preserved example of what an elegant bistro on the backside of Montmartre looked like at the turn of the century — the previous turn of the century.
And it buzzes with people, three-dimensional people, and now, as spring arrives and everyone sits outside, they get to look right straight across as this guy's own personal horror-story art statement, this uninhabitable shoebox, this prison-windowed incarceration center. Hey, thanks, fella! What was your name again? Mind if we get your phone number?
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