A suburban mall turned vertical.

Wright's building made it socially and culturally acceptable for an architect to design a highly expressive, intensely personal museum. In this sense almost every museum of our time is a child of the Guggenheim.

Right after 9/11 it looked as if the idea of a huge skyscraper might be considered obsolete. It came back, but I think that's more closely connected to the rise of Asian and Middle Eastern cities in the world economy (Dubai, Shanghai, Taipei, etc.) than anything else.

Architecture begins to matter when it brings delight and sadness and perplexity and awe along with a roof over our heads.

Infrastructure creates the form of a city and enables life to go on in a city, in a certain way.

On New York subways in the 1980s: Riding on the IRT is usually a matter of serving time in one of the city's most squalid environments-noisy, smelly, crowded and overrun with a ceaseless supply of graffiti.

For most of the nineteen-seventies, the official route map of the New York City subway system was a beautiful thing.