A Year in the Metabolist Future of 1972 (2014)

<i>To wake up in a capsule (Capsule B807) is to wake up in a place unlike anywhere else. There is a bed, a window, clothes everywhere and the sound of morning traffic. However, there is also something less tangible, something that makes every waking moment special. Maybe it’s the brilliance of the great round window or the quiet charm of the table, sometimes open and covered with junk, other times closed and silent. Maybe it ’s the door of the bathroom, appearing as if an entrance to a submarine. Or maybe it’s the scale of the room, a scale that seems just about right. Every morning brings a happy sense of the sublime.</i><p>I think, based on the photo just below of a room, that my reaction would not be well-approximated by &quot;sublime&quot;.<p>The tone of this article is bordering on rapturous. My reaction would be something a lot closer to &quot;Holy hell get me out of this rotting deathtrap of malaise and asbestos as soon as humanly possible!&quot;

<i>Today the Nakagin is but a vibrant reminder of a path that was not followed, a sculptural ode to an unrealised future.</i><p>Did anyone truly expect otherwise? This sort of straw-into-gold intellectual pandering is the meat and potatoes of the art world but buildings are real things that run on people and money. Self-congratulating we&#x27;re-so-smart-ism tends to get smashed to pieces when it runs into unblinking reality.