However, even as Holloway Roberts, Jed Leeder, and Wax Hook make their way further down the stairway in Exploration #4, the purpose of that vast place still continues to elude them. Is it merely an aberration of physics? Some kind of warp in space? Or just a topiary labyrinth on a much grander scale? Perhaps it serves a funereal purpose? Conceals a secret? Protects something? Imprisons or hides some kind of monster? Or, for that matter, imprisons or hides an innocent? As the Holloway team soon discovers, answers to these questions are not exactly forthcoming. [129-Strictly as an aside, Jacques Derrida once made a few remarks on the question of structure and centrality.]
[Note: Struck passages indicate what Zampano tried to get rid of, but which I, with a little bit of turpentine and a good old magnifying glass managed to resurrect.]
It is too complex to adequately address here; for some, however, this mention alone may prove useful when considering the meaning of 'play', 'origins', and 'ends'-especially when applied to the Navidson house: Ce centre avait pour fonction non seulement d'orienter et d'equilibrer, d'organiser Ia structure-on ne peut en effet penser une structure inorganisee-mais de faire surtout que le principe d'organisation de la structure limite ce que nous pourrions appeler le jeu137 de Ia structure. Sans doute le centre d'une structure, en onentant et en organisant Ia coherence du systeme, per- met-il le jeu des eiements a l'iatonieur de Ia forrne totale. Et aujourd'hui encore une structure pnivee de tout centre repesente l'impensable lui-mCme.
And later on: C'est pourquoi, pour une pensee classique de la structure, Ic centre peut etre dit, paradoxalement, clans Ia structure et hors de la structure. Ii est au centre de Ia totalite et pourtant, puisque le centre ne lui appartient pas, Ia totalite a son centre ailleurs. L.e centre n'est pas le centre.
[130-Here's the English. The best I can do: The function of [a] center was not only to orient, balance, and organize the structure-one cannot in fact conceive of an unorganized structure-but above all to make sure that the organizing principle of the structure would limit what we might call the play of the structure. By orienting and organizing the coherence of the system, the center of a structure permits the play of its elements inside the total form. And even today the notion of a structure lacking any center represents the unthinkable itself.
And later on: This is why classical thought concerning structure could say that the center is, paradoxically, within the structure and outside it. The center is at the center of the totality, and yet, since the center does not belong to the totality (is not part of the totality), the totality has its center elsewhere. The center is not the center.
[131-Conversely Christian Norberg-Schulz writes: In terms of spontaneous perception, man's space is 'subjectively centered.' The development of schemata, however, does not only mean that the notion of centre is established as a means of general organization, but that certain centres are 'externalized' as points of reference in the environment. This need is so strong that man since remote times has thought of the whole world as. being centralized. In many legends the 'centre of the world' is concretized as a tree or a pillar symbolizing a vertical axis mundi Mountains were also looked upon as points where sky and earth meet. The ancient Greeks placed the 'navel' of the world (omphalos) in Delphi, while the Romans considered their Capitol as cap Ut mund: For Islam ka'aba is still the centre of the world. Eliade points out that in most beliefs it is difficult to reach the centre. It is an ideal goal, which one can only attain after a 'hard journey.' To 'reach the centre is to achieve a consecration, an initiation. To the profane and illusory existence of yesterday, there succeeds a new existence, real, lasting and powerful.' But Eliade also points out that 'every life, even the least eventful, can be taken as the journey through a labyrinth." [132-What Derrida and Norberg-Schulz neglect to consider is the ordering will of gravitation or how between any two particles of matter exists an attractive force (this relationship usually represented as 0 with a value of 6.670 X 10-' I N-rn2! kg2). Gravity, as opposed to gravitation, applies specifically to the earth's effect on other bodies and has had as much to say about humanity's sense of centre as Derrida and Norberg-Schulz. Gravity informs words like 'balance', 'above', 'below', and even 'rest'. Thanks to the slight waver of endolymph on the ampullary crest in the semicircular duct or the rise and fall of cilia on maculae in the utricle and saccule, gravity speaks a language comprehensible long before the words describing it are ever spoken or learned. Albert Einstein's work on this matter is also worth studying, though it is important not to forget how Navidson's house ultimately confounds even the labyrinth of the inner ear.] [133-This gets at a Lissitzky and Escher theme which Zampano seems to constantly suggest without ever really bringing right out into the open. At least that's how it strikes me. Pages 30, 356 arid 441, however, kind of contradict this. Though not really.]
See Christian Norberg-Schulz's Existence, Space & Architecture (New York: Praeger Publishers, 1971), p. 18 in which he quotes from Mircea Eliade's Patterns in Comparative Religion, trans. R. Sheed (London: Sheed and Ward, 1958), p. 380-382.]
Something like that. From Jacques Derrida's Structure, Sign, and Play in the Discourse of the Human Sciences' in Writing and Difference translated by Alan Bass. Chicago. University of Chicago Press. 1978. p. 278-279.
See Derrida's Lecriture et Ia dfjerence (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1967), p. 409-410.
Penelope Reed Doob avoids the tangled discussion of purpose by cleverly drawing a distinction between those who walk within a labyrinth and those who stand outside of it: [M]aze-treaders, whose vision ahead and behind is severely constricted and fragmented, suffer confusion, whereas maze-viewers who see the pattern whole, from above or in a diagram, are dazzled by its complex artistry. What you see depends on where you stand, and thus, at one and the same time, labyrinths are single (there is one physical structure) and double: they simultaneously incorporate order and disorder, clarity and confusion, unity and multiplicity, artistry and chaos. They may be perceived as a path (a linear but circuitous passage to a goal) or as a pattern (a complete symmetrical design) ... Our perception of labyrinths is thus intrinsically unstable: change your perspective and the labyrinth seems to change.
[134-Penelope Reed Doob, The Idea Of The Labyrinth: from Classical Antiquity through the Middle Ages (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1990), p.1 X]
Unfortunately the dichotomy between those who participate inside and those who view from the outside breaks down when considering the house, simply because no one ever sees that labyrinth in its entirety. Therefore comprehension of its intricacies must always be derived from within.
This not only applies to the house but to the film itself. From the outset of The Navidson Record, we are involved in a labyrinth, meandering from one celluloid cell to the next, trying to peek around the next edit in hopes of finding a solution, a centre, a sense of whole, only to discover another sequence, leading in a completely different direction, a continually devolving discourse, promising the possibility of discovery while all along dissolving into chaotic ambiguities too blurry to ever completely comprehend. [135-At least, as Daniel Hortz lamented, "By granting all involved the right to wander (e.g. daydream, free associate, phantasize [sic] etc., etc.; see Gaston Bachelard ) that which is discursive will inevitably re-appropriate the heterogeneity of the disparate and thus with such an unanticipated and unreconciled gesture bring about a re-assessment of self." Or in other words, like the house, the film itself captures us and prohibits us at the same time it frees us to wander.-and so first misleads us, inevitably, drawing us from the us, thus, only in the end to lead us, necessarily, for where else could we have really gone?, back again to the us and hence back to ourselves. See Daniel Hortz's Understanding The Self: The Maze of You (Boston: Garden Press, 1995), p. 261.] [129-Strictly as an aside, Jacques Derrida once made a few remarks on the question of structure and centrality.]
In order to fully appreciate the way the ambages unwind, twist only to rewind, and then open up again, whether in Navidson's house or the film-quae itinerum ambages occursusque ac recursus inexplicabiles [136-["Passages that wind, advance and retreat in a bewilderingly Intricate manner." - Ed.] Pliny also wrote when describing the Egyptian maze: "sed crebisforibus inditis adfallendos occursus redeundumque in errores eosdem." ["Doors are let Into the walls at frequent Intervals to suggest deceptively the way ahead and to force the visitor to go back upon the very same tracks that he has already followed In his wanderlngs."-Ed.] k] -we should look to the etymological inheritance of a word like 'labyrinth'. The Latin labor is akin to the root labi meaning to slip or slide backwards [137-Labiis also probably cognate with "sleep."] [134-Penelope Reed Doob, The Idea Of The Labyrinth: from Classical Antiquity through the Middle Ages (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1990), p.1 X] though the commonly perceived meaning suggests difficulty and work. Implicit in 'labyrinth' is a required effort to keep from slipping or falling; in other words stopping. We cannot relax within those walls, we have to struggle past them. Hugh of Saint Victor has gone so far as to suggest that the antithesis of labyrinth-that which contains work-is Noah's ark [138-See Chapter Six, footnote 82, Tom's Story as well as footnote 249. - Ed.]-in other words that which contains rest.X If the work demanded by any labyrinth means penetrating or escaping it, the question of process becomes extremely relevant. For instance, one way out of any maze is to simply keep one hand on a wall and walk in one direction. Eventually the exit will be found. Unfortunately, where the house is concerned, this approach would probably require an infinite amount of time and resources. It cannot be forgotten that the problem posed by exhaustion-a result of labor-is an inextricable part of any encounter with a sophisticated maze. In order to escape then, we have to remember we cannot ponder all paths but must decode only those necessary to get out. We must be quick and anything but exhaustive. Yet, as Seneca warned in his Epistulae morales 44, going too fast also incurs certain risks: Quod evenht in labyrintho properantibus: ipsa ilos velocitas inplicat. [139- [This is what happens when you hurry through a maze: the faster you go, the worse you are entangled. - Ed.] Words worth taking to heart, especially when taking into account Pascal's remark, found in Paul de Man's Allegories of Reading: "Si on lit trop vite ou trop doucement, on n'entend rien." [If one reads too quickly or too slowly, one understands nothing. - Ed.] [135-At least, as Daniel Hortz lamented, "By granting all involved the right to wander (e.g. daydream, free associate, phantasize [sic] etc., etc.; see Gaston Bachelard ) that which is discursive will inevitably re-appropriate the heterogeneity of the disparate and thus with such an unanticipated and unreconciled gesture bring about a re-assessment of self." Or in other words, like the house, the film itself captures us and prohibits us at the same time it frees us to wander.-and so first misleads us, inevitably, drawing us from the us, thus, only in the end to lead us, necessarily, for where else could we have really gone?, back again to the us and hence back to ourselves. See Daniel Hortz's Understanding The Self: The Maze of You (Boston: Garden Press, 1995), p. 261.] [129-Strictly as an aside, Jacques Derrida once made a few remarks on the question of structure and centrality.]
Unfortunately, the anfractuosity of some labyrinths may actually prohibit a permanent solution. More confounding still, its complexity may exceed the imagination of even the designer. [140- "... ita Daedalus implet innumeras errore vias vixque ipse reverti ad limen potuit. ranta esifallacia tecti." Ovid, Metamorphoses VIII. 1. 166-168. ["So Daedalus made those innumerable winding passages and was himself scarce able to find his way back to the place of entry, so deceptive was the enclosure he had built." Horace Gregory, however, offers a slightly different translation "So Daedalus designed his winding maze;! And as one entered It, only a wary mind! Could find an exit to the world again -/ Such was the cleverness of that strange arbour.] Or in other words: shy from the sky. It cannot care, especially for what it no longer knows. Treat that place as a thing unto itself, independent of all else, and confront it on those terms. You alone must find the way. No one else can help you. Every way is different. And if you do lose yourself at least take solace in the absolute certainty that you will perish.] X Therefore anyone lost within must recognize that no one, not even a god or an Other, comprehends the entire maze and so therefore can never offer a definitive answer. Navidson's house seems a perfect example. Due to the wall-shifts and extraordinary size, any way out remains singular and applicable only to those on that path at that particular time. All solutions then are necessarily personal.
[141- I'm not sure why but I feel like I understand this on an entirely different level. What I mean to say is that the weird encounter with Tatiana seems to have helped me somehow. As if getting off was all I needed to diminish some of this dread and panic. I guess Thumper was right. Of course the downside is that this new discovery has left me practically beside myself, by which I mean priapic.
Last night I made the rounds. I called Tatiana but she wasn't home. Amber's machine picked up but I didn't leave a message. Then as the hours lengthened and a particular heaviness crept in on me, I thought about Thumper. In fact I almost went down to where she works, to that place where I could be alone with the failing light and shadow play, where I could peek in ease, unhurried, unmolested, a nation which as suddenly as it crossed my mind suddenly-and for no apparent reason either-made me feel terribly uncomfortable. I called Lude instead. He gave me Kyrie's number. No answer. Not even a machine picked up. I called Lude back and an hour later we were losing ourselves in pints of cider at Red.
For some reason I had with me a little bit Zampano wrote about Natasha (See Appendix F). I found it some months ago and immediately assumed she was an old love of his, which of course may still be true. Since then, however, I've begun to believe that Zampano's Natasha also lives in Tolstoy's guerrulous pages. (Yes, amazingly enough, I finally did get around to reading War and Peace.) Anyway, that evening, as coincidence would have it, a certain Natasha was dining on vegetables and wine. Rumor was-or so Lude confided; I've always loved the way Lude could 'confide' a rumor-her mother was famous but had been killed in a boating accident, unless you believed another rumor-which Lude also confided-that her father was the one who had been killed in a boating accident though he was not famous.
What did it matter?
Either way, Natasha was gorgeous.
Tolstoy's prophecy brought to life.
Lude and I quarreled over who would approach her first. Truth be known I didn't have the courage. A few pints later though, I watched Lude weave over to her table. He had every advantage. He knew her. Could say 'hello' and not appear obscene. I watched, my glass permanently fixed to my mouth so I could drink continuously-though breathing proved a bit tricky.
Lude was laughing, Natasha smiling, her friends working on their vegetables, their wine. But Lude stayed too long. I could see it in the way she started looking at her friends, her plate, everywhere but at him. And then Lude said something. No doubt an attempt to save the sitch. Little did I know I was the one being sacrificed, that is until he started pointing over at the counter, at me. And then suddenly she was looking over at the counter, at me. And neither one of them was smiling. I lifted the base of my glass high enough to eclipse my face and paid no mind to the stream of cider spilling from either side, foaming in my lap. When I lowered my deception I saw Natasha hand Lude back a piece of paper he had just given her. Her smile was curt. She said very little. He continued the charade, smiled quickly and departed.
"Sorry Hose," Lude said as he sat down, unaware that the scene had turned me to stone.
"You didn't just tell her that I wrote that for her, did you?" I finally stuttered.
"You bet. Hey, she liked it. Just not enough to dump her boyfriend."
"I didn't write that. A blind man wrote it," I yelled at him, but it was too late. I finished my drink, and with my head down, got the hell out of there, leaving Lude behind to endure Natasha's pointed inattention.
Heading east, I passed by Muse and stopped in at El Coyote where I drank tequila shots until an Australian gal started telling me about kangaroos and the Great Barrier Reef and then ordered something else, potent and green. A while ago, over a year? two years? she had seen a gathering there of very, very famous people speaking censorially of things most perverse. She told me this with great glee, her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen. Who cared. Fine by me. Did she want to hear about Natasha? Or at least what a blind man wrote?
When I finally walked outside, I had no idea where I was, orange lights burning like sunspots, initiating weird riots in my head, while in the ink beyond a chorus of coyotes howled, or was that the traffic? and no sense of time either. We stumbled together to a corner and that's when the car pulled over, a white car? VW Rabbit? maybe/maybe not? I strained to see what this was all about, my Australian gal giggling, both pacmen going crazy, she lived right around here somewhere but wasn't that funny, she couldn't remember exactly where, and me not caring, just squinting, staring at the white? car as the window rolled down and a lovely face appeared, tired perhaps, uncertain too, but bright nonetheless with a wry smile on those sweet lips-Natasha leaning out of her car, 'I guess love fades pretty fast, huh?' [142-________________] winking at me then, even as I shook my head, as if that kind of emphatic shaking could actually prove something, like just how possible it is to fall so suddenly so hard, though for it to ever mean anything you have to remember, and I would remember, I would definitely remember, which I kept telling myself as that white? car, her car?, aped off, bye-bye Natasha, whoever you are, wondering then if I would ever see her again, sensing I wouldn't, hoping senses were wrong but still not knowing; Love At First Sight having been written by a blind man, albeit sly, passionate too?, the blind man of all blind men, me,-don't know why I just wrote that-though I would still love her despite being unblind, even if I had all of a sudden started dreaming then of someone I'd never met before, or had known all along, no, not even Thumper-wow, am I wandering-maybe Natasha after all, so vague, so familiar, so strange, but who really and why? though at least this much I could safely assume to be true, comforting really, a wild ode mentioned at New West hotel over wine infusions, light, lit, lofted on very entertaining moods, yawning in return, open nights, inviting everyone's song, with me losing myself in such a dream, over and over again too, until that Australian gal shook my arm, shook it hard- "Hey, where are you?"
"Lost" I muttered and started to laugh and then she laughed and I don't remember the rest. I don't remember her door, all those stairs to the second story, the clatter we made making our way down the hail, never turning on the lights, the hall lights or her room lights, falling onto the futon on her floor. I can't even remember how all our clothes came off, I couldn't get her bra off, she finally had to do that, her white bra, ahh the clasp was in front and I'd been struggling with the back, which was when she let the pacmen out and ate me alive.
Yeah I know, the dots here don't really connect. After all, how does one go from a piece of poetry to a heart wrenching beauty to the details of a drunken one night stand? I mean even if you could connect those dots, which I don't think you can, what kind of picture would you really draw?
There was something about her pussy. I do remember that. In fact it was amazing how hairy it was, thick coils of black hair, covering her, hiding her, though when fingered & licked still parting so readily for the feel of her, the taste of her, as she continued to sit on top of me, just straddling my mouth, and all the time easing slightly back, pushing slightly forward, even when her legs began to tremble, still wanting me to keep exploring her like that, with my fingers and my lips and my tongue, the layers of her warmth, the sweet folds of her darkness, over and over and over again.
The rest I'm sure I don't remember though I know it went on like that for a while.
Up in the sky-high, Off to the side-eye, All of us now sigh, Right down the drain-ae.
Just a ditty. I guess.
Later, I don't even know how much later, she said we'd been great and she felt great even though I didn't. I didn't even know where I was, who she was, or how we'd done what she said we'd done. I had to get out, but fuck the sun hurt my eyes, it split my head open, I dropped her number before I reached the corner, then spent a quarter of an hour looking for my car. Something was beginning to make me feel panicky and bad again. Maybe it was to have been that lost, to lose sense, even a little bit about some event, and was I losing more than I knew, larger events? greater sense? In fact all I had to hold onto at that moment as I cautiously pointed the old car to that place I had the gall to still call a home-never again-was her face, that wxy smile, Natasha's, seen but unknown, found in a restaurant, lost on a Street corner, gone in a wind of traffic-as in 'to wind something up.' I looked at my hands. I was holding onto the steering wheel so tightly, all my knuckles were shiny points of white, and my blinker was on, CLICK-click CLICK-click CLICK-click, so certain, so plain, so clear, and yet for all its mechanical conviction, blinking me in the wrong direction.]
As with previous explorations, Exploration #4 can also be considered a personal journey. While some portions of the house, like the Great Hall for instance, seem to offer a communal experience, many inter-communicating passageways encountered by individual members, even with only a glance, will never be re-encountered by anyone else again. Therefore, in spite of, as well as in light of, future investigations, Holloway's descent remains singular.
When his team finally does reach the bottom of the stairway, they have already spent three nights in that hideous darkness, their sleeping bags and tents successfully insulating their bodies from the cold, but nothing protecting their hearts from what Jed refers to as "the heaviness" which always seemed to him to be crouching, ready to spring, just a few feet away. While everyone enjoys some sense of elation upon reaching the last step, in truth they have only brought to a conclusion an already experienced aspect of the house. None of them are at all prepared for the consequences of the now unfamiliar.
On the morning of the fourth day, the three men agree to explore a new series of rooms. As Holloway says, "We've come a long way. Let's see if there's anything down here." Wax and Jed do not object, and soon enough, they are all wending their way through the maze.
As usual, Holloway orders numerous stops to procure wall samples. Jed has become quite handy with his chisel and hammer, cutting out small amounts of the black-ashen substance which he deposits into one of the many sample jars Reston equipped him with. As had been the case even on the stairway, Holloway personally takes responsibility for marking their path. He constantly tacks neon arrows to the wall, sprays neon paint on corners, and metes out plenty of fishing line wherever the path becomes especially complicated and twisted. [Aside from the practical aspect of fishing line-a readily available and cheap way to map progress through that complicated maze-there are of course obvious mythological resonances. Minos' daughter Ariadne, supplied Theseus with a thread which he used to escape the labyrinth. Thread has repeatedly served as a metaphor for an umbilical cord, for life, and for destiny. The Greek Fates (called Moerae) or the Roman Fates (called Fata or Parcae) spun the thread of life and also cut it off. Curiously in Orphic cults, thread symbolized semen.]
Oddly enough, however, the farther Holloway goes the more infrequently he stops to take samples or mark their path. Obviously deaf to Seneca's words.
Jed is the first to voice some concern over how quickly their team leader is moving: "You know where you're going, Holloway?" But Holloway just scowls and keeps pushing forward, in what appears to be a determined effort to find something, something different, something defining, or at least some kind of indication of an outside-ness to that place. At one point Holloway even succeeds in scratching, stabbing, and ultimately kicking a hole in a wall, only to discover another windowless room with a doorway leading to another hallway spawning yet another endless series of empty rooms and passageways, all with walls potentially hiding and thus hinting at a possible exterior, though invariably winding up as just another border to another interior. As Gerard Eysenck famously described it: "Insides and in-ness never inside out." [143-Gerard Eysenck's "Break Through (not a) Breakthrough: Heuristic Hallways In The Holloway Venture." Proceedings from The Navidson Record Semiotic Conference Tentatively Entitled Three Blind Mice and the Rest As Well. American Federation of Architects. June 8, 1993. Reprinted in Fisker and Weinberg, 1996.]
This desire for exteriority is no doubt further amplified by the utter blankness found within. Nothing there provides a reason to linger. In part because not one object, let alone fixture or other manner of finish work has ever been discovered there. [144-footnote text boxes not included]
Back in 1771, Sir Joshua Reynolds in his Discourses On Art argued against the importance of the particular, calling into question, for example, "minute attention to the discriminations of Drapery... the cloathing is neither Woollen, nor linen, nor silk, satin or velvet: it is drapery: it is nothing more." [145-See Joshua Reynolds' Discourses on Art (1771) (New York: Collier, 1961).] Such global appraisal seems perfectly suited for Navidson's house which despite its corridors and rooms of various sizes is nothing more than corridors and rooms, even if sometimes, as John Updike once observed in the course of translating the labyrinth: "The galleries seem straight but curve furtively."
Of course rooms, corridors, and the occasional spiral staircase are themselves subject to patterns of arrangement. In some cases particular patterns. However, considering the constant shifts, the seemingly endless redefinition of route, even the absurd way the first hallway leads away from the living room only to return, through a series of lefts, back to where the living room should be but clearly is not; describes a layout in no way reminiscent of any modern floorplans let alone historical experiments in design. [146-For example, there is nothing about the house that even remotely resembles 20th century works whether in the style of Post-Modern, Late-Modern, Brutalism, Neo-Expressionism, Wrightian, The New Formalism, Miesian, the International Style, Streamline Moderne, Art Deco, the Pueblo Style, the Spanish Colonial, to name but a few, with examples such as the Western Savings and Loan Association in Superstition, Arizona, Animal Crackers in Highland Park, Illinois, Pacific Design Center in Los Angeles, or Mineries Condominium in Venice, Wurster Hall in Berkeley, Katselas House in Pittsburgh, Dulles International Airport, Greene House in Norman Oklahoma, Chicago Harold Washington Library, the Watts Towers in South Central, Barcelona National Theatre, New Town of Seaside Florida, Tugendhat House, Rue de Laeken in Brussels, Richmond Riverside in Richmond Surrey, the staircase hail in the Athens, Georgia News Building, the Tsukuba Center Building in Ibaraki, the Digital 1-louse, Hiroshima City Museum of Contemporary Art, the interior of the Judge Institute of Management Studies in Cam- - bridge, Maison a Bordeaux, TGV Railway Station in Lyon-Satolas, the post-modernism of the Wexner Center for Visual Arts in Columbus, Ohio, Palazzo Hotel in Fukuoka, National Geographic Society in Washington, D.C., the Amon Carter Museum in Fort Worth, Texas, Sainsbury Wing of the National Gallery, Pyramid at the Louvre, New Building at Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, J. Paul Getty Museum in Malibu, Palace of Abraxas at Marne-La-Vallee, Piazza d'ltalie in New Orleans, AT&T Building in New York, the modernism of Carre d'Art, Lloyds Building in London, the Boston John F. Kennedy Library complex, Nave of Vuokseeniska Church in Finland, head office of the Enso-Gutzeit Company, Administrative Center of Silynatsalo, the Eaines House, the Baker dormitory at MIT. inside the TWA terminal at Kennedy Airport, The National Theatre in London, Hull House Association Uptown Center in Chicago, Hektoen Laboratory also in Chicago, Fitzpatrick House in the Hollywood Hills, Graduate Center at Harvard University, Pan-Pacific Auditorium in Los Angeles, General Motors Testing Laboratory in Phoenix Arizona, Bullock's Wilshire Department Store in Los Angeles, Casino Building in New York, Hotel Franciscan in Albuquerque New Mexico, La Fonda Hotel in Santa Fe, or Santa Barbara County Courthouse, the Neff or Sherwood House in California, Exterior of the Secondary Modern School, Maisons Jaoul, Notre-Dame-du-i4aut near Belfort, The Unite d'Habitation in Marseilles, The Farnsworth House in Piano, Iflinois, The Alumni Memorial Hall at illinois institute of Technology, Guggenheim Museum in New York, or nothing of the traditionalism of Lawn Road Flats in Hampstead, the Zimbabwe House and Battersea Power Station in London, Choir of the Angelican cathedral in Liverpool or Memorial to the Missing of the Somme near Aras, Viceroy's house in New Delhi, Gledstone Hall in Yorkshire, Finsbury Circus facade, Castle Drogo near Drewsteignton Devon, Casa del Fascio in Como, Villa Mairea in Noormarkku, Central Station in Milan, the New York City World's Fair Interior of the Finnish Pavilion, lobby of the Stockholm Concert House, Stockholm City Library, Woodland Crematorium, Police Headquarters in Copenhagen. Helsinki railway station, Villa HvittrAsk near Helsinki, Grundtvig Church in Copenhagen, Villa Savoye in Poissy, 25 rue Vavrn in Paris, 62 rue Des Belles Feuilles also in Paris, Notre-Dame du Raincy, 25 bis, rue Franklin, Paris again, Chateau of Voisins, Rochefort-en-Yvelines, New Chancellery in Berlin. The Festival House near Dresden. the Schr&ler House, Utrecht, The Bauhaus in Dessau, or the expressionism of the Fagus Factory near Hildesheim. Amsterdam's Scheepvarthuis, Rheinhalle in Dusseldorf, the Chilehaus in Hamburg, Einstein Tower in Berlin, Schocken Department Store in Sutigart, Auditorium of the Grosses Schauspielhaus in Berlin, The Glass Pavilion in Cologne, Bresau's Centennial Hall, l.G.-Farben Dye Factory, Hochst, the Volker schlach Memorial in Leipzig. Haus Wiegand in Berlin, AEG Turbine Factory also in Berlin, the Stuttgart Railway Station, Leipziger Platz facade and the National Bank of Germany in Berlin, the American Radiator Building in New York, the Nebraska State Capitol, the )etl'erson Memorial in Washington, D.C., Villa Vizcaya in Miami, Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York, or Fallingwater, Administration Building at the S.C. Johnson Wax Factory, plan for the Tokyo Imperial Hotel or Taliesin East. the Robie House, the Winslow House, Warren Hickox House, or History Faculty Building in Cambridge, the Pompidou Center in Paris, the David B. Gamble House, The Seagram Building in New York, the Portland public service buiding, or the Art Nouveau of the cathedral of the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, the Assembly building at Chandigarh in India, Casa Mila in Barcelona, the Majolikahaus and the Secession building in Vienna, the Greek Theatre at Park GueII, Case Batilo, and Casa Vicens in Barcelona, and the staircase of the Tassel House in Brussels, Central Rotunda at the international Exhibition of Decorative Arts in Turin, Palazzo Castiglioni in Milan, the Elvira Photographic Studio in Munich, the Stoclet House in Brussels. The Imperial and Royal Post Office Savings Bank in Vienna, Darmstadt Artist's Colony, Library Facade of Glasgow School of Art, Paris Metro station entrance, Castel Beranger also in Paris, Maison du Peuple in Brussels, the Exchange in Amsterdam, the staircase of the Van Eetvelde House and Hotel Solvay in Brussels, or anything of the Bungaloid style, the Mission Style, the Western Slick Style or the Prairie Style, whether the Crocker House in Pasadena, the Town and Gown Club in Berkeley, or the Goodrich House in Tucson, or any evidence of 19th century modes, whether stylistically enunciated as Jacobethan Revival, Late Gothic, Neo-Classical Revival, Georgian Revival, Second Renaissance Revival, Beaux-Arts Classicism, Chateauesque, Richardsonian Romanesque, the Shingle Style, Eastlake Style, Queen Anne Style, Stick Style, Second Empire, High Victorian Ltalianate, High Victorian Gothic, the Octagon Mode, the Renaissance Revival, the Italian Villa Style, Romanesque Revival, Early Gothic Revival, Egyptian Revival, Greek Revival, such as University Club in Portland Oregon, Calvary Episcopal in Pittsburgh, the Minneapolis institute of Arts, Germantown Cricket Club in Penn. sylvania, All Souls Unitarian Church in Washington, D.C., Detroit Public Library or the Racquet and Tennis Club in New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Riverside County Courthouse in California, the Kimball House in Chicago, the Gresham House in Galveston, Texas. Cheney Building in Hartford Connecticut, Pioneer Building in Seattle, House House in Austin, Texas, Bookstaver House in Middletown Rhodes Island, Double House on Twenty- First Street in San Francisco, Brownlee House in Bonham, Texas, Los Angeles Heritage Society, Sagamore Hill in Oyster Bay, Cram House in Middletown Rhode Island, House of San Luis Obispo, City Hall in Philadelphia, Gallatin House in Sacramento, Bla- - gen Block and Marks House in Portland, Iangworthy House in Dubuque, Iowa, Cedar Point in Swansboro, North Carolina, Haughwout Building in New York City, Farmers' and Mechanics' Bank in Philadelphia, Calvert Station in Baltimore, Jarrad [louse in New Brunswick, New Jersey. Old Stone Church in Cleveland, Church of Assumption in St. Paul, Minnesota, Rotch House in New Bedford, Massachusetts. St. James in Willming. ton, North Carolina, Philadelphia's Moyamensing Prison, Medical College of Virginia in Richmond, Lyle-Hunnicutt House in Athens, Georgia, Montgomery County Courthouse in Dayton. Ohio, which is not to exclude the non-presence of other 19th century examples such as the Pennsylvania station, exterior and concourse, Villard Houses in New York. the Boston Public Library, Court of Honor at the Chicago World's Fair, the St. Louis Wainwright Building, the Buffalo's Guaranty Building, Watts Sherman House in Newport Rhode Island, Boston Trinity Church, Ames Gate Lodge in North Easton, the Philadelphia Provident Life and Trust Company, Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Nott Memorial Library in Schenectady, New York, saloon in the Breakers, Boston City Hall, or Greek and gothic presence in the New York City Trinity Church, Philadelphia Girard College for Orphans. the Washington, D.C. Smithsonian Institute, Boston Tremont House, Philadelphia Merchant's Exchange, Ohio State Capitol, The Singer's Hall in Bavaria, Washington, D.C. Treasury Building, the Palais de Justice in Brussels. Empress Josephine's bedroom at Chateau of Malmaison, the Academy of Science in Athens, the Royal Pavilion in Brighton, Moscow Historical Museum, the New Admiralty in St. Petersburg. the grand staircase of the Paris Opera, the St. Petersburg Exchange, Thorwaldsen Museum, Senate Square in Helsinki, Florence Cathedral, Milan's Galleria Vittono Emanuele II, Palazzo di Giustizia in Rome, Conova Mausoleum near Possagno, Padua's Caffe Pedrocehi, the Parliament House in Vienna, the Dresden Opera House, Befreiungshalle near Keiheim, Walhalla across the Danube, Feldherrnhalle in Munich, Berlin National Galerie or Bauakademie or the staircase in the Altes Museum or Schauspielhaus, nor the gothic revival of the campanile of Wesminster cathedral, New Scottland Yard, Standen in Sussex. the house at Cragside in Northumberland or Newnham College in Cambridge, or Leyswood in Sussex, the Crystal Palace or the Law Courts in London, the chapel at Keble college, Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens, or the Saloon of the Reform Club, Elmes' St. George's Hall in Liverpool, Taylorian Institution at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, Edinburgh Royal College of Physicians, British Museum in London, Devon Luscombe Castle, Cumberland Terrace in Regent's Park, the Paris Grand Palais or Gare du Quai d'Orsay or the staircase at the Nouvelle Sorbonne or the Opera or St-Augustin or Fontaine StMichel or Parc des ButtesChaumont, the Marseilles Cathedral, the Paris Bibliotheque Nationale, the Salle de Harlay in the Palais de Justice, or the reading room at the Bibliotheque Ste-Genevieve, Gare du Nord, Ecole des Beaux-Arts, St-Vincent de Paul, Church of the Madeleine, rue de Rivoli, the arc du Carrousel, nor anything like 18th century classicism of the Washington, D.C. Supreme Court Chamber, the staircase vestibule in the D.C. capitol and the capitol itself, Baltimore Roman Catholic Cathedral, bank of Pennsylvania, the University of Virginia Jefferson Library, Monticello near Charlottesville, First Baptist Meeting House in Providence Rhode Island, Drayton Hall in Charleston, King's Chapel in Boston, or examples of the Jeffersonian Classicism or the Adam Style, such as Pavilion VII at the University of Virginia, Estouteville in Albemarle County, Clay Hill in Harrodsburg Kentucky, Nickels-Sortwell House in Wiscasset, Maine, Ware-Sibley House in Augusta, Georgia, or the Congregational Church in Talimadge Ohio. or the Dalton House in Newburyport, Massachusetts, Sheremetev Palace near Moscow, Cameron Gallery in Tsarskow Seine, the Catherine Hall in the St. Petersburg Tauride Palace, Leningrad Academy of Fine Arts, Copenhagen Amalienborg Palace, Lazienki Palace near Warsaw, the mock Gothic castle of Lowenburg at Schloss Wilhelmshohe, the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, mosque in the garden of Schwetzingen near Mannheim, Villa Hamilton near Dessau, Milan's Palazzo Serbelloni, the Sale delle Muse in the Vatican, the Boston Massachusetts State House, Paris BarriCre de Ia Villette, the Director's house at the saltworks of Arc-et-Senans near Besancon, Paris Pantheon, or La Solitude in Stuttgart, Rue de Ia PCpiniCre, Chateau at Montmusard near Dijon, the breakfast room of Sir John Soane's Museum, or the French Neo-Classicism of the Hameau at Versailles, the staircase of the theatre at Bordeaux, the anatomy theatre in the Paris School of Surgery, chambers for the mausoleum of the Prince of Wales, entrance and colonnade of the Hotel de Salm, Syon House in Middlesex, Versailles St. Symphorien, or Petit Trianon, or London Lin coIn's Inn Fields, the Consols Office in the Bank of England. the plan of Fonthill Abbey, the Cupola Room at Heaton Hall. the Dublin Four Courts, the Somerset House in London, the Casino at Marino House in Dublin, the Pagoda at Kcw Gardens. Stowe House portico at Buckinghamshire, drawing room at 20 St. James' Square, Middlesex Syon House, Marble Hall at Kedleston, Temple of Ancient Virtue in the Stowe Elysian Fields, staircase at 44 Berkeley Square. Holkham Hall in Norfolk, the cupola room in Kensington Palace, Tempietto Diruto at Villa Albani Rome, entrance front to S. Maria del Pnorato also in Rome, Ancient Mausoleum from Prima Pane di Archiierturt' e Prospelilve, or the Baroque expansion indicated by the cascade of steps at Born Jesus do Monte near Braga, or royal palace at Queluz. the Royal Library at the University of Coimbra, the palace-convent of Mafra near Lisbon, Salamanca Plaza Mayor, cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, cathedral at Murcia, Granada cathedral, the transparente in Toledo cathedral, octagonal pavilion at Orleans House, St Martin-in-the-Fields, Radclifre Library in Oxford, the Wieskirche, chapel of WOrzburg Residenz, or Stepney St. George-in-the-East, St. George's. Bloomsbury London, Oxfordshire Blenheim Palace, the mirror room of the Amlienburg in Munich, the Yorkshire Mausoleum at Castle Howard, Chatsworth Derbyshire, the painted hall at the Greenwich Royal Hospital, Rome's interior dome of S. Carlo alle quattro Fontane, or the Salon de Ia Guerre in Versailles. St. Paul's Cathedral, Piazza S. Pietro, Wren's Sheldonian Theatre in Oxford, the abbey church at Ottobeuren, or the German rococo of the Zwingei Walipavillon Dresden. St. John Nepomuk in Munich. the high altar at the abbey church of Weltenburg, the staircase at the Residenz WUrzburg or the church at Vierzehnheiligen, the monastery of Melk in Austria, staircase at Pornmersfelden, the upper Belvedere, Imperial Library of the Hofburg, Karlskirche in Vienna, the Ancestral Hall at Schloss Frain in Moravia, or French rococo like the Salon de Ia Princesse at Hotel de Soubise in Paris. not even just the interior chapel at Versailles, domed oval saloon at Vaux-le-Vicomte, Paris HOtel Lambert. S. Agata in Catania. the Syracuse cathedral, the ballroom at the Palazzo Gangi in Palermo. the majolica cloister at S. Chiara or the Piazza del GesO in Naples, or even the uncompleted Palazzo Donn'Anna. or the interior of the Gesuiti in Venice, the plan of the University Genoa, the Royal Palace at Stupinigi, the Superga near Turin, or the staircase at the Palazzo Madama, or the dome of S. Lorenzo in Turin, or the interior of the dome of the Cappella della SS. Sin- done, or the Trevi Fountain or the facade of S. Maria Maggiore or the Spanish steps or the frescoes on the nave vault of S. lgnazio in Rome, or also in Rome the exterior of S. Maria in Via Lata, Pietro da Cortona's SS, Luca e Martina, Villa Sacchetti del Pigneto, Piazza Navona, Fontana del Moro, S. Ivo dell Sapienza, facade of the Oratory of the Congregration of St. Philip Neri, chapel ceiling at the Collegio di Propa ganda Fide or the S. Carlo alle Quattro Fontane, Scala Regia in the Vatican. S. Andrea al Quirinale, nor even elements of the Renaissance as evinced by the Great Hall at the Hatfield House in Hertfordshire. Longleat, Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire. the Gate of Honour at Gonville and Calus College in Cambridge. Burghley House in Northamptonshire, Meat Hall in Haarlem, the House Ten Bosch at Maarssen, the Mauritshuis at the Hague, the Antwerp town hall, the arcaded loggia of the Belvedere in Prgaue, Wawel Cathedral in Cracow, the town hail at Augsburg, Schloss Johannesburg, Aschaffenburg, the court facade of the Ottheinrichsbau of the Schloss at Heidelberg, the Jesuit church of St. Michael in Munich, court of Altes Schloss in Stuttgart. Escorial, the Portal of Pardon, Granada, palace courtyard for Charles V at Aihambra, Granada, the Royal Hospital at Santiago de Compostela. the Queen's House in Greenwich, the Bourbon chapel at St-Denis, chateau pf Maisons-Lafittern the church of the College of the Sorbonne, the Palazzo Corner della Ca'Grande in Venice, or the Francois I gallery at Fontainebleau, Place des Vosges in Paris, gateway of the chateau at Anet. the Petit Chateau at Chantilly, the Chateau de Chambord. Square Court of the Louvre, Courtyard of the Chateau of Ancy-le-Franc, the Medici Chapel. the open staircase at Blois, the interior of II Redentore in Venice, or Villa Rotonda near Vjcenza, Palazza Chiericatj, Villa Barbaro, S. Maria. Vicoforte di Mondovi, Palazzo Farnese, Caprarola, the Strada Nuova in Genoa, the hemicycle of Villa Giulia, Villa Garzoni, Pontecasale, library of S. Marco in Venice. the Loggetta at the base of the Campanile, Cappella Pellegrini in Verona. Rome's S. Maria Degli Angeli. the giant order of the Rome Capitol, staircase of the Laurentian Library in Florence. or Mantua's Palazzo Ducale or Palazzo del Te, or Palazzo Farnese or Palazzo Massimi or Villa Farnesina or Villa Madama in Rome. or S. Maria della Consolazione in Todi. Belvedere Court, S. Pietro in Montorio, or Palazzo della Cancelleria in Rome, S. Maria della Grazie in Milan, Cappella del Perdono, Palazzo Ducale, Urbino, Palazzo Medici-Riccardi in Florence, the Pienxa Piazza. Rimini Tempio Malatestiano, Mantua's S. Andrea, Florence's S. Spirito or Pazzi Chapel. to say nothing of the lack of even a gothic signature, whether like the church of Sta Maria de VitOria at Batalha, the Cristo Monastery at Tomar, the palace of Beilver near Palma de Mallorca, cathedral at Palma de Mallorca, the Seville cathedral, a' d'Oro in Venice, Siena's Palazzo Pubblico, Venice's Piazzetta. the Doges' Palace Facade. or the nave of the Milan Cathedral, Orvieto cathedral, or the Florence cathedral, or the upper church of S. Francesco at Assisi. cathedral and castle of the Teutonic Order at Marienwerder Poland, the town hall at Louvain. St. Barbara in Kuttenberg, the Vladislav Hall in the Hradcany Castle in Prague. St Lorenz in Nuremberg, the Starsbourg cathedral, the Uim cathedral, Vienna Cathedral, interior of the Aarchen cathedral, the Prague cathedral, the choir vaulting of the church of the Holy Cross, choir of Cologne cathedral, Oxford New College, or Harlech Castle in Gwynnedd North Wales, Stokesay Castle in Shropshire, the Great Hall of Penhurst Place in Kent, the King's College Chapel in Cambridge, Westminster Hall in the Palace of Westminster, the vaulting of Henry VII chapel at Westminster, St Stephen's chapel, interior at Gloucester cathedral, or the interior octagon at Ely cathedral, the north porch of St. Mary Redcliffe in Bristol, the Exeter cathedral, vault at the Wells cathedral, Westminster Abbey, St Hugh's choir vaults in Lincoln cathedral, Palacio del Infan- tado at Guadalajara, the Canterbury cathedral, Rouen's Palais de Justice, the house of Jacques Coeur at Bourges, Bristol cathedral, Albi cathedral's Flaniboyant south porch, the church of St-Maclou in Rouen, the Paris SainteChapelle, the church of StUrbain, S6es cathedral, Notre-Dame, Amiens cathedral, Reims cathedral, Laon cathedral, Soissons cathedral, or the nave of Noyan cathedral, or even the ambulatory of St. Denis, nor for that matter elements of the Carolingian and Romanesque such as the Pisa baptistery or cathedral or the cathedral at Lucca, or the Leaning Tower of Pisa, S. Miniato al Monte or the baptistery in Florence, S. Ambrogio in Milan, the campanile and baptistery of the Parma cathedral, Salamanca's Old Cathedral, the cloister of Sto Domingo de Silos, fortified walls of Avila, kitchen at Fontevrault Abbey, Angers, church and monastery at Loarre, St-Gilles-du-Gard in Provence, cathedral of Autun, Poitiers' Notre-Dame-la-Grande, abbey church of La Madeleine in Vezelay, Angouleme's cathedral, abbey church at Cluny, cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, St-Serin in Toulouse, Portico de Ia Gloria, Santiago de Compostela, Conques Ste-Foy, the staircase of the chapter-house in Beverley, the intenor of the chapter-house in Bristol, the Durham cathedral, St John's Chapel, White Tower, Tower of London, Winchester cathedral, Lincoln cathedral, the abbey church of NoUe-Dame. Jumieges, Florence's S. Miniato al Monte, Dijon St-Benigne, ambulatory of St-Philibert in Tournus, St. Mark's cathedral in Venice, St. Basil's cathedral in Moscow, abbey church of Maria Laach, cathedral of Trier, Basilica of S. Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna, the dome of the Palatine chapel, interior of cathedral, Speyer, St. Michael in Hildesheim, the Great Mosque at COrdoba, S. Maria Naranco, All Staints, Earls Barton, St Lawrence, Bradford-on-Avon, church at Corvey on the Weser, the gateway at the monastery of Lorsch, plan for the monastery at St Gall, interior of the oratory in Germigny-des-Pros, or at the very least not even remnants of early Christian and Byzantine architectural conceits, whether the Cathedral of S. Front, Perigueux, cathedral of Monreale Sicily, interior of the Palatine Chapel in Palermo, the church of Transfiguration, Kizhi, Hagia Sophia in Kiev, hillside churches in Mistra Greece, Katholikon, Hosios Lukas, or church of Theotokos, mosaic of Christ Pantocrator in the dome of the church of Domition, Daphni, S. Vitale or S. Apollinare in Classe in Ravenna, Constantinople's Hagia Sophia, Ravenna's interior of the Mausoleum of Galls Placidia, Rome's S. Stefano Rotondo or S. Maria Maggiore or S. Clemente, or Milan's S. Lorenzo, or even the plan of Old St Peter's, nor the slightest trace of classical foundations whether Greek, Hellenistic, or Roman. as might be exemplified by the Temple of Jupiter, Diocletian's palace at Spalato, the gateway to the market at Miletus, Algeria's Timgad with its Arch of Trajan, apartment housing in Ostia. Trajan's Market in Rome, also in Rome, the Baths of Diocletian, the Basilica of Max. entius, Baths of Caracalla, the Temple of Venus, near the Golden House of Nero, Hadrian's Mausoleum, the Mausoleum of Caccilia Metella on the Via Appia, the Canopus of Hadrian's villa, the interior of the Pantheon, Hadrian's villa at Tivoli, or the Piazza d'Oro with peristyle court and pavilions, or the Flavian Palace, the Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii, plan of the Villa Jovis at Capri, Arch of Tiberius at Orange, France, Trajan's column in Rome, the Imperial Forum, Temple of Mars Ultor. Forum Augustum, Forum of Nerva, the Forum Romanum with the arch of Septimius Severus, the Arch of Titus and the Temple of Castor and Pollux, or in Spain the aqueduct at Segovia, or back in Rome the theatre of Marcellus, the Colosseum, the sanctuary of Fortuna Primigenia, Praeneste with its axonometric reconstruction, the Temple of Vesta at Tivoli. the Forum Boarium in Rome. the Maison Carree at Nimes, or the House of the Vettli in Pompeii, the walls of Herculaneum, the terrace of Naxian Lions on Delos, the Tower of the Winds in Athens, the Stoa of Attalus in the agora of Athens, the plan for the city of Pergamum or city center of Miletus or the Bouleutenon in Miletus, or the Temple of Apollo at Didyma. Temple of Athena Polias at Priene, Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, the theatre at Epidaurus, the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates in Athens as well as the Temple of Olympian Zeus, or the tholos at Delphi, or the Temple of Apollo at Bassae, or the Erechtheion on the Acropolis, the Porpylaea on the Acropolis, the Parthenon with its Panathenaic frieze. Athen's acropolis, the temple of Aphaia at Aegina. the Temple of Olympian Zeus at Acragas, the Temple of Hera or Poseidon or Neptune at Paestum, the Temple of Apollo at Corinth, the shrine of Anubis at the Temple of l-latshepsut, Deir al Bahani, or the Lion Gate at Mycenae, or the palace at Mycenae, the palace of Tiryns, the Palace of Minos, Knossos, Crete-which seems like a good place to end though it cannot end there, especially when there is still the Great Zimbabwe Enclosure, the Giza pyramids of Mykerinos, Cheops and Chefren, to say nothing of Ireland's New Grange passage grave, France's Esse gallery grave, Malta's Ggantija temple complex, Scotland's Skara Brae's settlement, the Lascaux cave, the Laussel pre-historic rock-cut Venus, or the notion of the Terra Armata hut which is also a good place to end though of course it cannot end there either- [147-Of course, ills impossible to consider any sort of construction, whet her of homes, factories, shops, stores, department stores, market halls, conservatories, exhibition buildings, railway stations, warehouses, and office buildings, exchanges, and banks, hotels, prisons, hospitals, museums, libraries, theatres, churches, bridges, airports, town halls, law courts, ministries, and public offices, Houses of parliament, monuments, parks, even towns, and cities, public works etc., etc., without paying heed to such names as Thomas Hall Beeby, Ricardo Bofill, John Simpson, Steven Holl, Leon Krier, Richard Neutra, Andres Duany, and Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk, Ramon Fortet, Daniel Libeskind, Quinlan Terry, Allan Greenberg, Jane B. Drew, Robin Sefert, Frank Gehry, Jean Willerval, Arat Isozaki, Kisho Kurokawa, Gisue and Mojgan Hariri, John Outram, Zaha Hadid, Peter Eisenmann, Richard Meier, John Hejduk, Aldo Ross!, Herman Hertzberger, Louis E. Fry Si:, LouisE. Fry Jr., LouisE. Fry III, Santiago Calatrava, I. 1W. Pei, Recardo Scofidio, Harry G. Robinson III, Terry Farrell, Bernard Tschumi, Charles F McAfee,_____ Eva Vecsei, the Coop Himmelb!au, Cheryl L. McAfee, Charles Eames, Simon Rodia, Ray Eames, Ricardo Bofihl, Donald L Stuhl, M. David Lee, Michael Graves, Elizabeth Diller, Charles Moore, Bruno Taut, Robert Traynham Coles, Mies van der Rohe, Philip Johnson, Hans Hollein, Rem Koolhaas, John S. Chase, Harvey B. Gantt, Robert Venturi, James Stirling, Norman Foster, Richard Rogers, Rienzo Piano, Alvar Aalto, Lou Switzer, Roberta Washington, .1 Max Bond Jr., Robert Keirnard, Luigi Nervi, Jorn Utzon, Eero Saarinen, Buckminster Fuller, Louis Kahn, Roderick Lincoln Knox, Paul Rudolph, James M. Whitley, William N Whitley, R. Joyce Whitley, Paul G Devrouax, Charles Duke, Marshall E. Purnel!, Robert P Madison, Sir Leslie Martin, Harry L Overstreet, Sir Denys Lasdun, Sir Basil Spence, Peter Smithson, James Gowan, Gordon MattaClark, Howard F Sims, Harold K Varner, Roger W Margerum, Harry Simmons Jr., Wendelli Campbell, Susan M. Campbell, Jwnes Stirling, Oscar Niemeyer, Norma Merrick Skiarek, U Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, William .1 Stanley, Ivenue LoveStanley, Vernon A. Williams, Leslie A. Williams, Cornelius Henderson, Paul Revere Williams, Boris Mikhailovich lofan, Vladimir Alekssevich Shchuko, VG. Gelfreikh, Ilya Golosov. Konstantin Me!nikov, Moses McKissack, - William S. Pittman, John A. Lankford, El Lissitzky, Aleksandr, and Viktor Vesnin, Serge Chermayeff Charles Holden, Sir John Burnet, Edwin Rickards, H. V Lanchester, Wilhelm Kreis, Giles Gilbert Scott, Frederick Gibberd, Sir Edwin Lutyens, Giovanni Muzio, Angiolo Mazzoni, Giuseppe Pagano, 0. Frezzotti, Marcello Piacentini, Plo Piacentini, Antonio Sant'Elia, Cesare Bazzani, Povi Baumann, Kay Fisker, G. B. Hagen, Edvard Thomsen, Carl Petersen, Lars Sonck, Sigfrid Ericson, Herman Gesellius, Armas Lindgren, Kaare Klint, Peder Vilhelm JensenKlint, Lars Israel Wahiman, Ragnar Ostberg, Martin Nyrop, Roger-Henri Expert, Paul Tournon, Andre Lurcat, Robert Mallet-Stevens, Pierre Chareau, Henri Sauvage, Tony Gamier, Francois Hennebique, Auguste Perret, Rene Sergent, Arthur Davis, C'harles-Frederic Mewes, Walter Johnnes Kruger, Albert Speer, Heinrich Tessenow, Emil Fahrenkamp, Gerrit Rietveld, Willem Marinus Dudok, JJ.P Oud, Adolf Loos, Laszlo MoholyNagy, Theo van Doesburg, Hannes Meyer, Walter Gropius, Johan van der Mey, Michel de Klerk, Fritz HOger, Otto Bartning, Dominikus Bohm, Eric Mendelsohn, Bruno Taut, Max Berg, Hans Poelzig, Bruno Schmitz, Peter Behrens, Paul Bonatz, Fritz Schumacher, Theodor Fischer, Alfred Messel, Ludwig Hoffman, William Lescase, George Howe, Albert Kahn, William Van Alen, Paul Gmelin, Stephen F Voorhees, Andrew C Mackenzie, Ralph Thomas Walker, John Mead Howells, Washington Roebling, Raymond Hood, Cass Gilbert, Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue, James Gamble Rogers, Ralph Adams Cram, John F Staub, Diego Suarez, Burrall Hoffmann, Paul Chalfin, John Russell Pope, Henry Bacon, John Bakewell, Arthur Brown, Horace Trumbauer, Henry Mather Greene, John Lyman Silsbee, Francesc Berenguer y Mestres, Luis Domenech y Montaner, Antoni Gaudi i Cornet, Raimond D 'Aronco, Giuseppe Sommaruga, Otto Wagner, Henri van de Velde, Theodor Lipps, August Endell, Ernst Ludwig Haus, CF.A. Voysey, Charles Harrison Townsend, Herman Muthesius, Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Charles Plumet, Jules Lavirotte, Frantz Jourdain, Georges Chedanne, Xavier Schoellkopf Hector Guimard, Henrik Pet rus Berlage, Paul Hankar, Victor Horta, Paul Sedille, Jules Saulnier, Cass Gilbert, John Smithmeyer, Paul PeIz, Stanford White, William Rutherford Mead, Charles Atwood, Charles Follen McKim, Louis Henry Sullivan, Daniel Burnham, John Root, William Le Baron Jenney, Frank Furness, Henry Van Brunt, William Ware, John Sturgis, Charles Brigham, Edward Potter, Peter B. Wright, _____ Richard Morris Hunt, Arthur Gilman, Gridley Bryant, Alfred B. Mullet, James Renwick, Richard Upjohn, Thomas Ustick Walter, Thomas Cole, Isaiah Rogers, Alexander Jackson Davis, Ithiel Town, Robert Mills, William Strickland, Benjamin Latrobe, Petrus Josephus Hubertus Cuypers, Joseph Poelaert, Ernst Ziller, Theophilus Eduard Hansen, Hans Christian Hansen, Vladimir Ossipovich Sherwood, Konstantin Andreevich Thon, Osip Beauvais, Afanasy Grigoryev, Dornenico Gilardi, Vasili Petrovich Stasov, Auguste Ricard de Montferrand, Karl Ivanovich Rossi, Adrian Dmitrievich Zakharov, Thomas de Thomon, Andrei Nikforovich Voronikhin, Antonio Corazzi, Johan Albrecht EhrenstrOm, Bertel Thorwaidsen, Carl Ludwig Engel, Christian Heinrich Grosch, Goulieb Birkner Bindesboll, Christian Frederick Hansen, Emilio de Fabris, Camillo Boito, Pietro Estense Selvatico, Guglielmo Calderini, Gaetano Koch, Marion Crawford, Giuseppe Men goni, Giuseppe Valadier, Raffaello Stern, Braccio Nuovo, Alessandro Antonelli, Carlo Amati, Antonio Niccolini, Pietro Bianchi, Giuseppe Jappelli, Antonio Selva, Eduard Riedel, Georg von Dollmann, Julius Raschdorf Paul Wallot, Got ifried Semper, Fredrich von Gartner, Leo von Klenze, Karl Fredrich Schinkel, Heinrich Hubsch, John Francis Bentley, Philip Webb, Basil Champneys, Richard Norman Shaw, Owen Jones, Sir Joseph Paxton, George Edmund Street, Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin, E. M. Barry, Sir Charles Barry, Charles Robert Cockerell, Robert Smirke, William Wilkins, Sir John Soane, Richard Payne Knight, Hwnphry Repton, John Nash, Gustave Effel, Ferdinand Dutert, I CA. Alphan4 Victor Ballard, Jean-Louise-Charles Gamier, Joseph AugusteEmile Vaudremer, Leon Vaudoyer, Louis-Joseph Duc, Pierre-FrancoisHenri Labrousie, JacqueIgnace Hittorff A.F T Chaigrin, Charles Percier, Francois-Leonard Fontaine, Benjamin Lairobe, George Hadfleld, Etienne Hallet, William Thornton, Charles Bullfinch, Thomas Jefferson, Peter Harrison, Charles Cameron, Mat vei Feodorovich Kazakow, Giacomo Quarenghi, Ivan Yegorovich Starov, Vasili Ivanovich Bazhenov, Fredrik Magnus Piper, Carl August Ehrensvard, Louis-Joseph Le Lorrain, Jakub Kubicki, Christian Piotr Aigner, Dominik Merlini, Friedrich Gilly, Heinrich Jussow, PierreMichel d'Ixnard, Wilhelm von Erdmannsdorf Giuseppe Piermarini, Michelangelo Simonetti, Pietro Camporese, ClaudeNicolas Ledoux, Etienne-Louis Boullee, Charles de Wailly, Marie- Joseph Peyre, Victor Louis, Pierre Rousseau, JacquesGermain Soufflot, Jacques Gabriel, John Wood, George Dance, James Wyatt, James Gandon, William Chambers, Robert Adam, William Kent, Carlo Marchionni, Giovanni Battista Piranesi, Niccolo Nasoni, Mateus Vicente de Oliveira, Johann Friedrich Ludwig, RodrIguez Tizon Ventura, Francois Hurtado Izquierdo, Leonardo de Figueroa, James Gibbs, Carlo Fontana, Thomas Archer, Nicholas Hawksmoor, John Vanbrugh, William Talman, Christopher Wren, Mauhaus Daniel Poppelmann, Joseph Schmuzer, Peter Thum, Dominikus Zimmermanm, Cosmas Damian Asam, Egid Quinn, Baithasar Newnann, Jakob Prandtauer, Johann San tini Aichel, Lucas von Hildebrandt, Joseph Emanuel Fischer von Enlach, Johann Bernhard Fischer von Enlach, Emmanuel Here de Corny, Germain Boffrand, Jules HardouinMansart, Louis Le Vau, GB. Vaccarini, Andrea Palma, Andrea Giganti, Tommaso Napoli, Ferdinando Fuga, Domenico Antonio Vaccaro, Cosimo Fanzago, Carlo Francesco Dotti, Francesco Maria Ricchino, Galeazzo Alessi, Bartolommeo Bianco, Turin Guarino Cluarini, Filippo Juvarra, Bernardo Vittone, Nicola Salvi, Carlo Fan tana, Alessandro Specchi, Andrea Pozzo, Pietro do Cortona, Francesco Borromini, Giovanni Battista Montano, Gianlorenzo Bernini, Inigo Jones, Robert Smy:hson, Jacob van Campen, Bonfaz Wolmut, Alevisio Novi, Jakob Wolf Alberlin Tretsch, Konrad Krebs, Alonso de Avarrubias, Enrique Egas, Jacques Lemercier, Solomon de Brosse, Francois Mansart, Philibert de l'Orme, Pierre Lescot, Gilles le Breton, Pirro Ligorio, Andrea Palladio, Martini Bassi, Galeazzo Alessi Domenico Fontana, Giacomo Barozzi da Vignola, Jacopo Tatti Sansovino, Michele Sanmicheli, Michelangelo Buonarroti, Giulio Romano, BaIdassare Peruzzi, Raffaello Sanzio, Antonia da San gallo the Younger, Antonia da Sangallo the Elder, Donato Bramante, Filarete, Leonardo do Vinci, Leon BattLcta Alberti, Filippo Brunelleschi, Simon of Cologne, Juan Guas, Juan Gil de HontanOn, Arnolfo di Cambio, Lorenzo Maitani, Benedikt Ried, Konrad Heinzelmann, Nicolaus Eseler, Jorg Ganghofer, Ulrich von Ensingen, Wentzel Roriczer, Heinrich von Brunsberg, Hans von Burghausen, Peter Parler, Diogo Arruda, Diogo Boytac, William Wynford, Robert Janyns, Henry Yevele, Henry de Reynes, William the Englishman, William of Sens, Jean de Loubinere, Bishop Bernardde Castanet (P), Jean d'Orbais, Abbot Suger (F), Nicola Pisano, Pedro Petriz, Gunzo, Apollodorus of Damascus, Severus, Celer, Daedalus- though here the names of the authors of buildings have begun to fade into the names of Patrons (F), whether Bishops, Kings, Emperors, Dynasties, eventually myth, and finally time- [148-See Exhibit One.]
Sebastiano Perouse de Montcbs, however, has written a sizable examination on the changes within the house; positing that they in fact follow Andrea Palladio's structural derivations.
By way of a quick summary, Palladian grammar seeks to organize space through a series of strict rules. As Palladio proved, it was possible to use his system to generate a number of layouts such as Villa Badoer, Villa Emo, Villa Ragona, Villa Poiana, and of course Villa Zeno. In essence there are only eight steps: 1. Grid definition 2. Exterior-wall definition 3. Room layout 4. Interior-wall realignment 5. Principal entrances-porticos and exterior wall inflections 6. Exterior ornamentation-columns 7. Windows and Doors 8. Termination [149-For an exemplary look at Palladian grammar in action, see William J. Mitchell's The Logic of Architecture: Design, Computation, and Cognition [Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1994), p. 152-181. As well as Andrea Palladio's The Four Books of Architecture (1570) trans. Isaac Ware (New York: Dover, 1965).]
Perouse de Montclos relies on these steps to delineate how Navidson's house was (1.0) first established (2.0) mited (3.0) sub-divided and (4.0) so on. He attempts to convince the reader that the constant refiguration of doorways and walls represents a kind of geological loop the process of working out all possible forms, most likely ad infinitum, but never settling because, as he states i his conclusion, "unoccupied space will never cease to change simply because nothing forbids it to do so. The continuous internal alterations only prove that such a house is necessarily uninhabited." [150-Sebastiano Perouse de Montclos' Palladian Grammar and Metaphysical Appropriations: Navidson's Villa Malcontenta (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1996), p. 2,865. Also see Aristides Quine's Concatenating Corbusier (New York: American Elsevier, 1996) in which Quine applies Corbusier's Five Points to the Navidson house thereby proving, in his mind, the limitations and hence irrelevance of Palladian grammar. While these conclusions are somewhat questionable, they are not without merit. In particular, Quine's treatment of the Villa Savoye and the Domino House deserves special attention. Finally consider Gisele Urbanati Rowan Lell's far more controversial piece "Polypod Or Polylith?: The Navidson Creation As Mechanistic/ Linguistic Model" in Abaku Banner Catalogue, v. 198, January 1996, p. 515-597, in which she treats the "house-shifts" as evidence of polylithic dynamics and hence structure. For a point of reference see Greenfield and Schneider's "Building a Tree Structure. The Development of Hierarchical Complexity and Interrupted Strategies in Children's Construction Activity" in Developmental Psychology, 13, 1977, p. 299-313.]
Thus, as well as prompting formal inquiries into the ever elusive internal shape of the house and the rules governing those shifts, Sebastiano Perouse de Montclos also broaches a much more commonly discussed matter: the question of occupation. Though few will ever agree on the meaning of the configurations or the absence of style in that place, no one has yet to disagree that the labyrinth is still a house. [151-Which also happens to maintain a curious set of constants. Consider - Temperature: 32F 8.
Light: absent.
Silence: complete *
Air Movement (i.e. breezes, drafts etc.): none True North: DNE * With the exception of the 'growl'.]
Therefore the question soon arises whether or not it is someone's house Though if so whose? Whose was it or even whose is it? Thus giving voice to another suspicion: could the owner still be there? Questions which echo the snippet of gospel Navidson alludes to in his letter to Karen [152-See Chapter XVII.] -St. John, chapter 14-where Jesus says: In my Father's house are many rooms: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you...
Something to be taken literally as well as ironically. [153-Also not to be forgotten is the terror Jacob feels when he encounters the territories of the divine: "How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." (Genesis 28:17)]
It is not surprising then that when Holloway's earn finally begins the long trek back, they discover the staircase is much farther away than they had anticipated, LS if in their absence the distances had stretched. They are forced to camp for a fourth night thus necessitating strict rationing of food, water, and light (i.e. batteries). On the morning of the fifth day, they reach the stairs and begin the long climb up. Aside from the fact that the diameter of the Spiral Staircase is now more than seven hundred and fifty feet wide, the ascent moves fairly quickly.
During the walk down, Holloway had prudently decided to leave provisions along the way, thus lightening their load and at the same time allocating needed supplies for their return. Though Holloway had initially estimated they would need no more than eight hours to reach the first of these caches, it ends up taking them nearly twelve hours. At last at their destination, hey quickly set up camp and collapse in their tents. Oddly enough, despite their exhaustion, all of them find it very difficult to fall asleep.
On the sixth day, they still make an early start. ['he knowledge that they are heading back keeps Wax and Jed's spirits elevated. Holloway, however, remains uncharacteristically sallow, revealing what critic Melisa fao Janis calls "a sign of [his] deepening, atrabilious obsession with the unpresent." [154-Melisa Tao Janis' "Hollow Newel Ruminations" in The Anti-Present Trunk, ed. by Philippa Frake (Oxford: Phaidon, 1995), P. 293.]
Nevertheless, the climb still proceeds smoothly, intil Holloway discovers the remains of one of their foot long neon markers barely clinging to the wall. It has been badly mauled, half of the fabric torn away by some unimaginable claw. Even worse their next cache has been gutted. Only traces of the plastic water jug remain along with a few scattered pieces of PowerBars. Fuel for the campfire stove has completely disappeared.
"That's nice," Wax murmurs.
"Holy shit!" Jed hisses.
Emily O'Shaugnessy points out in The Chicago ntropy Journal the importance of this discovery: "Here Lt last are the first signs-evidenced ironically enough by he expurgation of a neon sign and the team's proviions-of the house's powerful ability to exorcise any Lnd all things from its midst." [F-Emily O'Shaugnessy, "Metaphysical Emetic" in Chicago Entropy Journal, (Memphis, Tennessee, v. 182, n. 17, May, 1996.]
Holloway Roberts is not nearly as analytical. He responds as a hunter and the image that fills the frame is a weapon. Kneeling beside his pack, we watch as he pulls out his Weatherby 300 magnum and carefully inspects both the bolt and the scope mounts before loading five 180 grain Nosier Partition rounds in the magazine. As he chambers a sixth round, a glimmer of joy flickers across Holloway's features, as if finally something about that place has begun to make sense.
Fueled by the discovery, Holloway insists on exploring at least some of the immediate hallways branching off the staircase. Soon enough he is stalking doorways, leading the dancing moon of Jed's flashlight with the barrel of his rifle, and always listening. Corners, however, only reveal more corners, and Jed's light only targets ashen walls, though soon enough they all begin to detect that inimitable growl, [155-In describing the Egyptian labyrinth, Pliny noted how "when the doors open there is a terrifying rumble of thunder within."] X like calving glaciers, far off in the distance, which at least in the mind's eye, inhabits a thin line where rooms and passageways must finally concede to become a horizon.
"The growl almost always comes like the rustle of a high mountain wind on the trees," Navidson explained later. "You hear it first in the distance, a gentle rumble, slowly growing louder as it descends, until finally it's all around you, sweeping over you, and then past you, until it's gone, a mile away, two miles away, impossible to follow." [156-The Last Interview.]
Esther Newhost in her essay "Music as Place in The Navidson Record" provides an interesting interpretation of this sound: "Goethe once remarked in a letter to Johann Peter Eckermann March 23, 1829]: 'I call architecture frozen music." [157-Ich die Baukunsi elne ersiarrie Musik nenne.] The unfreezing of form in the Navidson house releases that music. Unfortunately, since it contains all the harmonies of time and change, only the immortal may savor it. Mortals cannot help but fear those curmurring walls. After all do they not still sing the song of our end?" [158-Esther Newhost's "Music as Place in The Navidson Record" in The Many Wall Fugue, ed. Eugenio Rosch & Joshua Scholfield (Farnborough: Greg International, 1994), p. 47.]
For Holloway, it is impossible to merely accept the growl as a quality of that place anymore. Upon seeing the torn marker and their lost water, he seems to transfigure the eerie sound into an utterance made by some definitive creature, thus providing him with something concrete to pursue. Holloway almost seems drunk as he rushes after the sound, failing to lay own any fishing line or hang neon markers, rarely even topping to rest.
Jed and Wax do not draw the same conclusion as Holloway. They realize, and quite accurately too, that even though they are traveling farther and farther away from the staircase, they are not getting any closer to the source of the growl. They insist on turning around. Holloway first promises to investigate just a little while longer, then resorts to goading, calling them anything from "fucking pussies" and "cowards" to "jack- holes" and "come-guzzling shit-eating cunts." Suffice it to say this last comment does not steel Wax and Jed's resolve to hunt the great beast.
They both stop.
Enough is enough. They are tired and more than a little concerned. Their bodies ache from the constant cold. Their nerves have been eviscerated by the constant darkness. 'hey are low on battery power (i.e. light), neon markers, and fishing line. Furthermore, the destroyed cache of supplies could indicate their other caches are in jeopardy. I that proves to be the case, they will not have enough water to even make it back within radio range of Navidson.
"We're heading home now," Jed snaps.
"Fuck you," Holloway barks. "I give the orders ere, and I say no one's going anywhere yet." Which considering the circumstances are pretty bizarre words be hearing in such regions of dark.
"Look dude," Wax tries, doing his best to lure Holloway over to their side of sense. "Let's just check in o we can resupply and, you know... uh ... get more guns."
"I will not abort this mission" Holloway responds sharply, jabbing an angry finger at the twenty-six year Id from Aspen, Colorado.
Easily as much attention has been given to Holloway's use of the word "abort" as to Navidson's use of le word "outpost." The implication in "abort" is the failure to attain a goal-the prey not killed, the peak not limbed. As if there could have been a final objective in that place. Initially Holloway's only goal was to reach ie bottom of the staircase (which he achieved). Whether it was the growl or the expurgating qualities of e house or something entirely else, Holloway decided redefine that goal mid-way. Jed and Wax, however, understand that to begin hunting some elusive presence now is just the same as suicide. Without another word, they both turn around and start heading back to the stairs.
Holloway refuses to follow them. For a while, he rants and raves, screaming profanities at a blue streak, until finally and abruptly, he just storms off by himself, vanishing into the blackness. It is another peculiar event which is over almost before it starts. A sudden enfilade of "fuck you's" and "shit-heads" followed by silence. [159-This is not the first time individuals exposed to total darkness in an unknown space have suffered adverse psychological effects, Consider what happened to an explorer entering the Sarawak Chamber discovered in the Multi mountains In Borneo. This chamber measures 2,300ft long, 1 ,300ft wide, averages a height of 230ft, and is large enough to contain over 17 football fields. When first entering the chamber, the party of explorers kept close to a wall assuming incorrectly that they were following a long, winding passageway. It was only when they chose to return by striking straight out into that blackness-expecting to run into the opposite wall-that they discovered the monstrous size of that cavern: "So the trio marched Out into the dark expanse, maintaining a compass course through a maze of blocks and boulders until they reached a level, sandy plain, the signature of an underground chamber. The sudden awareness of the immensity of the black void caused one of the cavers to suffer an acute attack of agoraphobia, the fear of open spaces. None of the three would later reveal who panicked, since silence on such matters is an unwritten law among cavers." Planet Earth: Underground Worlds p. 26-27.
Of course, Holloway's reactions exceed a perfectly understandable case of agoraphobia.]
Back on the staircase, Jed and Wax wait for Holloway to cool off and return. When several hours pass and there is still no sign of him, they make a brief foray into the area, calling out his name, doing everything in their power to locate him and bring him back. Not only do they not find him, they do not come across a single neon marker or even a shred of fishing line. Holloway has run off blind.
We watch as Jed and Wax make camp and try to force themselves to sleep for a few hours. Perhaps they hope time will magically reunite the team. But the morning of the seventh day only brings more of the same. No sign of Holloway, a terrifying shortage of supplies, and a very ugly decision to make.
Hank Leblarnard has devoted several pages on the guilt both men suffered when they decided to head back without Holloway. [160-Hank Leblarnard's Griefs Explorations (Atlanta: More Blue Publications, 1994).] Nupart Jhunisdakazcriddle also analyzes the tragic nature of their action, pointing out that in the end, "Holloway chose his course. Jed and Wax waited for him and even made a noble effort to find him. At 5:02 A.M., as the Hi 8 testifies, their only option was to return without him." [161-Nupart Jhunisdakazcriddle's Killing Badly, Dying Wise (London: Apophrades Press, 1996), p. 92.]
As Jed and Wax resume their climb back up the spiral Staircase, they discover every neon marker they ,ft behind has been torn apart. Furthermore the higher they get, the more the markers have been devoured. Around this time, Jed also begins to notice how more than a few of his buttons have vanished. Strips of velcro have fallen off his parka, shoe laces have shredded forcing him to bind his boots together with duck tape. Amazingly enough, even his pack frame has "crumbled"-the word Jed uses.
"It's kind of scary" Wax mutters in the middle of a long ramble. "Like you stop thinking about something and it vanishes. You forget you have pocket zippers and pow they're gone. Don't take nothing for granted ere."
Jed keeps wondering aloud: "Where the hell is [Holloway]?" and silence keeps trying to mean an answer.
An hour later, Jed and Wax reach another cache, laced out of the way against the wall at the far end of a air, near the entrance to some unexplored corridor. Nothing remains of the food and fuel but the jug of rater is perfectly intact. Wax is back for a second chug, 'hen the crack of a rifle drops him to the floor, blood immediately gushing from his left armpit.
"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Wax screams. "My arm-Oh god Jed help me, I'm bleeding!" Jed immediately crouches next to Wax's side and applies pressure to e wound. Moments later, Holloway emerges from the ark corridor with his rifle in hand. He seems just as shocked by the sight of these two as he is by the sight of the stairs.
"How the hell did I get here?" he blurts out incoherently. "I thought it was that, that thing. Fuck. It was that thing. I'm sure of it. That awful fucking... fuck."
"Don't stand there. Help him!" Jed yells. This seems to snap Holloway out of his trance-at least for a little while. He helps Jed peal off Wax's jacket and treat the wound. Fortunately they are not unprepared. Jed as a medical supply kit loaded with gauze, ace bandages, disinfectant, ointments, and some painkillers. He forces two pills into Wax's mouth but the ensuing cut shows that only some of Wax's agony has subsided.
Jed starts to tell Holloway what they will have to do in order to carry Wax the remainder of the way up.
"Are you crazy?" Holloway suddenly shouts. "I can't go back now. I just shot someone."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Jed tries to say as calmly as possible. "It was an accident."
Holloway sits down. "It doesn't matter. I'll go to jail. I'll lose everything. I have to think."
"Are you kidding me? He'll die if you don't help me carry him!"
"I can't go to prison," Holloway mumbles, more to himself now than to either Wax or Jed. "I just can't."
"Don't be ridiculous," Jed says, starting to raise his voice. "You're not gonna go to jail. But if you sit there and let Wax die, for that they'll lock you up for life. And I'll make sure they throw away the fucking key. Now get up and help me."
Holloway does struggle to his feet, but instead of giving Jed a hand, he just walks away, disappearing once again into that impenetrable curtain of black, leaving Jed to carry and care for Wax by himself. For whatever reason, departure suddenly became Holloway's only choice. Une solution politique honorable. [162-"An honorable political solution'-and as usual, pretentious as all fuck. Why French? Why not English? It also doesn't make much sense. Nothing about Holloway's choice or Jed's request seems even remotely political.]
Jed does not get very far with Wax before two bullets smash into a nearby wall. Holloway's helmet light reveals that he is standing on the opposite side of the stairway.
Jed instantly turns off his flashlight and with Wax on his back scrambles up a few stairs. Then by rapidly clicking his flashlight on and off, he discovers a narrow hallway branching off the stairway into unseen depths. Unfortunately another shot instantly answers this fractionary bit of vision, the bang echoing over and over again through the pitch.
As we can see Jed does succeed in dragging Wax into this new corridor, the next Hi 8 clip capturing him with his flashlight back on, moving through a series of tiny rooms. Occasionally we hear the faint crack of a rifle shot in the distance, causing Jed to push ahead even faster, darting through as many chambers as possible, until his breath rasps painfully in and out of his lungs and he is forced to put his friend down, unable for the moment to go any farther.
Jed just slides to the floor, turns off his light, and starts to sob.
At 3:31 A.M. the camera blips on again. Jed has moved Wax to another room. Realizing the camcorder may be his only chance to provide an explanation for what happened, Jed now speaks directly into it, reiterating the events leading up to Holloway's break with reality and how exhausted, pursued, and ultimately lost, Jed - has still somehow managed to carry, drag, and push Wax to a relatively safe place. Unfortunately, he no longer has any idea where they are: "So much for my sense of direction. I've spent the last hour looking for a way back to the staircase. No luck. The radio is useless. If help doesn't come soon, he'll die. I'll die."