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216 pages, Paperback
First published April 4, 2019
I dislike reinforced concrete as a building material. I distrust its secrets, particularly the hidden bind between the concrete and the steel reinforcement bars within. I am suspicious of the way architects employ the material to dramatically generate walls, roofs or planes of white concrete that to my mind are little more than representations of an inherited fetish begun by architects who value the mere surface-sense of concrete. I prefer working with steel or timber. These materials are more explicit, more mathematically pure to me. I can understand the intent of a steel truss holding up a bridge or a walkway or the roof of an airport building or train station simply by the way it looks, by reading along its length, letting my eye skip across its main horizontal and vertical elements, then its smaller criss-crossing struts and bracings that make small language-like marks in the spaces above me, dicing the air into planes and making frames that reasonably filter my vision.Speaking of language, that's Duncan's other exhibited passion: the confounding elements it's made of; when it's insufficient and when it will hold; the assemblage reflecting confident vision. Like the desired result at a construction site.