Le Corbusier painting sans vêtements:
“Etoile de Mar, Le Corbusier and his wall paintings”. Casabella.
So what’s with the scar on the leg? Shark attack? Seems the only likely answer.
Thanks again to Matt, gravestmor’s resident Scholar of Corb Oddities.
Due to the tardiness of Miss April, we have organised a special sample room free for all:
Tongue and Groove Gang Bang.
Introducing The Building Code of Australia. Vol 2. Part 3.8.1 Wet Areas.
Or as we like to call her: Miss March.
She’s statutory.
Moulded by the hands of a Spanish master, Gravestmor is proud to unfurl Miss February:
She is a pisces so she understands the mysteries of the cosmos. And the Westminster system too.
Pointed arches, republicanism and off-the-shoulder-asymetry; Miss January has it all.
Presenting the delectable Miss December!
De-licious.
Oo la la, Miss November!
Some backstory:
Back in the days at Sydney University Architecture School there was a little student publication called The Surreyville Times, although publication may be a generous description as it was really just a photocopied A3 sheet of paper folded in half. It was run by the older kids on campus, was vaguely serious and had an amusing gossip column at the back. I am not sure when, but sometime between first and third year it disappeared.
One day a couple of years later when we were in final year Matt got it into his head that we ought to resurrect it. Huzzah! A fine Idea, we said, so we did. For two whole issues Matt, Nathan, Jeremy, Hannah and I dished up delicious satire and poked fun at the faculty. We wrote crazee articles, horoscopes, bitched about being students etc. We complained that the library subscribed to useless magazines such as Vogue Living while the faculty could not afford enough design tutors, which resulted in us receiving more tutors and more Wrath of Librarian in equal measures. We were media moguls and the power was intoxicating.
Until some planes ran into some towers and we all lost inspiration. You see, in the first issue we had just about enough content to fill up one A3 sheet but the back of the paper was still blank. We could not be bothered writing anymore and did not really know what to do. So we did what every other publication does when faced with illiterate authors - we filled the blank space with porn.
We would have a centrefold. Architectural porn. First up was The Secreteriat in Chandigahr, reproduced here today for you to enjoy in the comfort of your own darkened bedroom. It proved popular and its timesaving qualities were not lost on the editorial team and so we decided to make the Archi-Porn a regular feature. The second issue of The Surreyville Times that we put together had the World Trade Centre as its centrefold. We printed it and distributed it around the studios and a day {two?} later the World Trade Centre had collapsed and we all felt really awful.
After that there was no more Surreyville and no more Archi-Porn. Until now.
