"I'd like to share a revelation I've had with you, Morpheus."
It began while investigating Le Corbusier and the unintended backlash against modernist architecture that originally propelled him to the heights of stardom.
It was an article about the Ronan Point disaster, in all its foul late 60's cheapness, that brought home to me the unexpected deepness of British sketch comedy.
Monty Python's Flying Circus has one of my favourite sketches, the Masonic Architects, where two competitors for a housing project design show their prospective models.
The first candidate s blackballed by the investors not only because the architect failed to become a Mason but also because his best designs were for slaughterhouses rather than low-income flats.
The second candidate brings forth a shiny towerblock model, which, as he describes its features, begins to fall apart, even some of the floors cascading, and finally it bursts into flames.
In spite of this, he wins the contract with a secret Masonic handshake.
Cut to the Ronan Point disaster:
On 16th May, 1968, Mrs Ivy Hodge, a council tenant in a block of flats called Ronan Point in east London, wandered into the kitchen of her 18th floor flat. She leaned over her cooker and struck a match. Instantly, an explosion blew out the pre-cast concrete panels which formed the side of the building. The entire end of the block collapsed like a house of cards. Mrs. Hodge survived, but four others died.
It was modern architecture's Titanic, and spelled the end of the high-rise as a viable solution to the post-war housing crisis as well as plunging modern architecture and the architectural profession to a low level of public esteem.
It never occurred to me that the sketch was mocking an event, nor that the Masonic references had to do with something as tangible as Ronan Point being a Freemason Estate.
Well, I hope you've enjoyed this revelation. I further hope that you will look upon Monty Python as something far more profound than mere Lymie twits making total asses of themselves.
Jurched
It began while investigating Le Corbusier and the unintended backlash against modernist architecture that originally propelled him to the heights of stardom.
It was an article about the Ronan Point disaster, in all its foul late 60's cheapness, that brought home to me the unexpected deepness of British sketch comedy.
Monty Python's Flying Circus has one of my favourite sketches, the Masonic Architects, where two competitors for a housing project design show their prospective models.
The first candidate s blackballed by the investors not only because the architect failed to become a Mason but also because his best designs were for slaughterhouses rather than low-income flats.
The second candidate brings forth a shiny towerblock model, which, as he describes its features, begins to fall apart, even some of the floors cascading, and finally it bursts into flames.
In spite of this, he wins the contract with a secret Masonic handshake.
Cut to the Ronan Point disaster:
On 16th May, 1968, Mrs Ivy Hodge, a council tenant in a block of flats called Ronan Point in east London, wandered into the kitchen of her 18th floor flat. She leaned over her cooker and struck a match. Instantly, an explosion blew out the pre-cast concrete panels which formed the side of the building. The entire end of the block collapsed like a house of cards. Mrs. Hodge survived, but four others died.
It was modern architecture's Titanic, and spelled the end of the high-rise as a viable solution to the post-war housing crisis as well as plunging modern architecture and the architectural profession to a low level of public esteem.
It never occurred to me that the sketch was mocking an event, nor that the Masonic references had to do with something as tangible as Ronan Point being a Freemason Estate.
Well, I hope you've enjoyed this revelation. I further hope that you will look upon Monty Python as something far more profound than mere Lymie twits making total asses of themselves.
Jurched
