Articles

A distinctly Canadian strain of parsimony

Trompe l’oeil—a crass parlor trick or a great advance in Western art?

Pelé’s sky-high forever home conforms to a strict football theme.

A green front yard won’t save you, but it’s still better than concrete.

There’s something astoundingly ironic about using cutting-edge technology to tell a story of native wisdom triumphing over techno-industrial will.

If you need more prairie in your life, go outside.

The incidental noise of domestic work is both mute and shackling.

Hope for revolutionary agency is invested in the fragmented forms of another time.

Without a Party, what is left other than trolling Dezeen?

A good-intentioned book channels a torrent of research and riffs into galaxy-brain takes.

Hard-nosed rationalism proves a poor prophylactic against sinuous human desire.

The high artifice and warm sensuality of it all tickle in a good way.

Try to parse the narrative layers that great wealth accrues around itself, and you’ll up dizzy fast.

As moralizing, The White Lotus is blithely hollow; as camp, it’s depressingly prurient.

On the too-muchness of “New York: 1962–1964”

The network probably enjoys the building’s intimidation factor.