#Modernist

Robert Ndiscdogbob
2025-10-01

Steel transformed into form and shadow. A modernist black and white abstraction where geometry meets light.

Black and white image of a sculpture
2025-09-17
Le cellier Güell à Garraf.
Bodegas Güell located in Garraf.

#winery #bodegas #caveavin #moderniste #modernist #modernisme #architecture #gaudi #berenguer
Obsidian Urbex PhotographyObsidianUrbex@mstdn.social
2025-09-10

This now abandoned church in England was built in the 1960s during a period of Catholic transition. Its design features modernist architecture, including a blue dome with skylights, dalle de verre stained glass, and a central altar.

#AbandonedChurch #StainedGlass #Church #England #Photography #Modernist #Architecture

old church with rows of pews
2025-08-08
The time stops.

Plaza del Ayuntamiento (“Town Hall Square”) in Valencia, Spain

#Valencia #square #buildings #Spain #architecture #Neoclassical #Modernist #Baroque #NeoRenaissance
BildungsGeflüstersiggidoor@troet.cafe
2025-07-05

@avatter Es zeigt sich seit Beginn seiner Kandidatur, #fritzemerz taugt nicht als #kanzler oder #politiker oder #Modernist. Das wusste bereits #merkel und mit Sicherheit viele weitere Begleiter seiner #politischen #Karriere. Er fungiert mehr und mehr als #polemiker und #erzkonservativer #revisionist, zu einem #Politiker, der sich an die #Macht klammern wird. Deshalb wird es mich nicht wundern, wenn es am Ende seiner Amtsperiode dann den #Schulterschluss mit der #noafd geben wird.

2025-06-01
Modernist architecture in Italy is always surprising. Transparency, lightness and complex geometries seem to be answers to the monumental architectural style of the fascist Impero, although the architects building in the 1960s are mostly the same ones who worked in the 1920s and 1930s. Continuity, in other words. This gallery is located in the historic center of Ravenna. The building is structured by a simple grid of squares and rectangles. This could appear monotonous and unimaginative if it weren't for the ceiling, which is a translucent structure of hexagons, triangles and trapezoids. These geometric shapes have been used in Italian interior design since the Middle Ages. Especially in floor mosaics in the tradition of the Cosmate family.

#modernist #modernistarchitecture #1960s #ravenna #itlay #architektur #architekturfotografie #architecture #architecturephotography #modernarchitecture #bnw #urban #urbanism #urbanphotography
2025-04-24

walknews.com/876050/ 080 バルセロナ・ファッション、スペイン随一の国際ファッション・プラットフォームとしての役割を再確認 – FashionNetwork 日本 #080Barcelona #Bally #fashionnetwork、ファッション #FashionNetwork.com #MAN #Modernist #Spain #TxellMiras #Varova #アパレル #ショー #スペイン #テキスタイル #トレンド #ニュース #ビジネス #フランス #ブランド #マーケット #ランウェイ #化粧品 #小売 #業界 #海外 #繊維

080 バルセロナ・ファッション、スペイン随一の国際ファッション・プラットフォームとしての役割を再確認 - FashionNetwork 日本
Japan Pop Newsnews@wakoka.com
2025-04-23

wacoca.com/news/2507782/ 080 バルセロナ・ファッション、スペイン随一の国際ファッション・プラットフォームとしての役割を再確認 – FashionNetwork 日本 ##ショー #080Barcelona #Bally #fashionnetwork、ファッション #FashionNetwork.com #man #Modernist #Spain #TxellMiras #Varova #アパレル #スペイン #テキスタイル #トレンド #ニュース #ビジネス #フランス #ブランド #マーケット #ランウェイ #化粧品 #小売 #業界 #海外 #繊維

080 バルセロナ・ファッション、スペイン随一の国際ファッション・プラットフォームとしての役割を再確認 - FashionNetwork 日本
Obsidian Urbex PhotographyObsidianUrbex@photog.social
2025-04-12

🆕 #Photo gallery and blog post - Val-Benoît Institute of Chemistry & Metallurgy, Belgium

Val-Benoît Institute of Chemistry and Metallurgy, founded 1937, trained generations of Belgium's scientists. It closed in the early 2000s.

Head over to my website to explore abandoned laboratories, dusty lecture theaters and an interesting #Modernist entry hall.

Full article with history and photo gallery - obsidianurbexphotography.com/e

#ArtDeco

abandoned laboratory with wooden fume cupboards, long pipes run along the ceiling to exhaust the fumes
Harvey Kellyharveykelly
2025-04-11

I lived here in Salford when I was 19. There's Brutalist architecture and then there's brutal. And to think they knocked it down a few years ago.

Assoc for Scottish Literaturescotlit@mastodon.scot
2025-04-11

“[Davidson] makes the case for those in the depth of hardship by the depiction of an ordinary husband and wife, suffering inescapably, but maintaining a grip on their powers of resilience and love.”

—Carol Rumens on John Davidson’s “Villanelle” – “A still potent vision of a Glasgow family in poverty at the end of the 19th century, clinging on to hope.”

3/3

theguardian.com/books/2024/dec

#Scottish #literature #poetry #19thCentury #Victorian #Modernist #Modernism #workingclass

Assoc for Scottish Literaturescotlit@mastodon.scot
2025-04-11

“As a condition-of-England poem, ‘A Northern Suburb’ rings bells louder than a Royal wedding, even today.”

John Davidson grew up in Greenock, a son of the manse – although he soon rebelled against his father’s religious beliefs. A prolific writer, he influenced many Modernist poets such as WB Yeats, Wallace Stevens, TS Eliot & Hugh MacDiarmid

2/3

theguardian.com/books/booksblo

#Scottish #literature #poetry #19thCentury #Victorian #Modernist #Modernism #workingclass

Assoc for Scottish Literaturescotlit@mastodon.scot
2025-04-11

I couldn’t touch a stop and turn a screw,
And set the blooming world a-work for me,
Like such as cut their teeth—I hope, like you—
On the handle of a skeleton gold key…

—“Thirty Bob a Week”, by the 19th-century poet, playwright & novelist John Davidson (1857–1909) – born #OTD, 11 April. A 🎂 🧵

1/3

Page images from THE YELLOW BOOK vol. 2, 1894 – available on @gutenberg_org

gutenberg.org/files/41876/4187

#Scottish #literature #poetry #19thCentury #Victorian #Modernist #Modernism #workingclass

John Davidson
Thirty Bob a Week

I couldn’t touch a stop and turn a screw,
And set the blooming world a-work for me,
Like such as cut their teeth—I hope, like you—
On the handle of a skeleton gold key.
I cut mine on a leek, which I eat it every week:
I’m a clerk at thirty bob as you can see.

But I don’t allow it’s luck and all a toss;
There’s no such thing as being starred and crossed;
It’s just the power of some to be a boss,
And the bally power of others to be bossed:
I face the music, sir; you bet I ain’t a cur!
Strike me lucky if I don’t believe I’m lost!

For like a mole I journey in the dark,
A-travelling along the underground
From my Pillar’d Halls and broad suburban Park
To come the daily dull official round;
And home again at night with my pipe all alight
A-scheming how to count ten bob a pound.And it’s often very cold and very wet;
And my missis stitches towels for a hunks;
And the Pillar’d Halls is half of it to let—
Three rooms about the size of travelling trunks.
And we cough, my wife and I, to dislocate a sigh,
When the noisy little kids are in their bunks.

But you never hear her do a growl or whine,
For she’s made of flint and roses, very odd;
And I’ve got to cut my meaning rather fine
Or I’d blubber, for I’m made of greens and sod:
So p’rhaps we are in hell for all that I can tell,
And lost and damn’d and served up hot to God.

I ain’t blaspheming, Mr. Silvertongue;
I’m saying things a bit beyond your art:
Of all the rummy starts you ever sprung
Thirty bob a week’s the rummiest start!
With your science and your books and your the’ries about spooks,
Did you ever hear of looking in your heart?

I didn’t mean your pocket, Mr., no!
I mean that having children and a wife,
With thirty bob on which to come and go,
Isn’t dancing to the tabor and the fife;
When it doesn’t make you drink, by Heaven! it makes you think,
And notice curious items about life.

I step into my heart and there I meet
A god-almighty devil singing small,Who would like to shout and whistle in the street,
And squelch the passers flat against the wall;
If the whole world was a cake he had the power to take,
He would take it, ask for more, and eat them all.

And I meet a sort of simpleton beside—
The kind that life is always giving beans;
With thirty bob a week to keep a bride
He fell in love and married in his teens;
At thirty bob he stuck, but he knows it isn’t luck;
He knows the seas are deeper than tureens.

And the god-almighty devil and the fool
That meet me in the High Street on the strike,
When I walk about my heart a-gathering wool,
Are my good and evil angels if you like;
And both of them together in every kind of weather
Ride me like a double-seated “bike”.

That’s rough a bit and needs its meaning curled;
But I have a high old hot un in my mind,
A most engrugious notion of the world
That leaves your lightning ’rithmetic behind:
I give it at a glance when I say “There ain’t no chance,
Nor nothing of the lucky-lottery kind.”

And it’s this way that I make it out to be:
No fathers, mothers, countries, climates—none!—
Not Adam was responsible for me;
Nor society, nor systems, nary one!
A little sleeping seed, I woke—I did, indeed—
A million years before the blooming sun.I woke because I thought the time had come;
Beyond my will there was no other cause:
And everywhere I found myself at home
Because I chose to be the thing I was;
And in whatever shape, of mollusc, or of ape,
I always went according to the laws.

I was the love that chose my mother out;
I joined two lives and from the union burst;
My weakness and my strength without a doubt
Are mine alone for ever from the first.
It’s just the very same with a difference in the name
As “Thy will be done.” You say it if you durst!

They say it daily up and down the land
As easy as you take a drink, it’s true;
But the difficultest go to understand,
And the difficultest job a man can do,
Is to come it brave and meek with thirty bob a week,
And feel that that’s the proper thing for you.

It’s a naked child against a hungry wolf;
It’s playing bowls upon a splitting wreck;
It’s walking on a string across a gulf
With millstones fore-and-aft about your neck:
But the thing is daily done by many and many a one . . .
And we fall, face forward, fighting, on the deck.

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