Perched in the Ivory Tower

Q Hey Ben, it looks like you have it all figured out: a practicing architect actually making a living in Telluride, one of the dreamiest outdoor fun spots on the planet. Can you let any of us lesser mor

Posted by Chris DeVore

A

Chris.

Sometimes I ask myself the same question, slap myself, and realize I am not dreaming. Almost every day I think, "Hey Ben, You're a lucky guy." And I am lucky. I have a job that I love and it pays a living wage, I've just started my own business, I never use my car unless I'm going on a mountain biking trip, and I live a 5 minute walk from 3 different chairlifts at one of the best ski areas in North America. Many might say I'm living the dream, and I tend to agree, however life in the sticks does have its tradeoffs. Real estate is nearly impossible to own, basic commodities are laughably expensive or unavailable , and we're 6 hours from the nearest city when the pavement is dry. Mentally we're even further. People come here and they disappear. Some for better, some for worse.

All that said, Telluride is not the secret, although it may be the secret sauce. The secret is simply following your dreams no matter what the consequences, even if the timing seems bad and, most importantly, surrounding yourself with people who will never stand in your way and never encourage you to feel guilty about the decisions you've made. That can be done anywhere.

Simplicate and Add Lightness

Behold William Bushnell Stout's vision of the future: The 1936 Stout Scarab. Thought now to be the predecessor of the VW Microbus, it was well ahead of its time, but only a handful exist today. The original production run was short lived due to buyer reticence (think Ford Taurus when it first came out) and Stout's focus on aeronautics during WWII. Borne from that ethic though, his design motto was "Simplicate and Add Lightness". Make it simple and make it fly. There are so many double entendres in that motto to be mined. Make it light - make it joyful. Make it fly - make it cool. It is a sensibility that can be applied as easily to car design as it can to architecture, graphic design, sculpture, even computer programming. It is the pursuit of straightforward and functional elegance.

The Scarab confirms for me that there is such a thing as "utopian design." People had the most fantastical vision of the future back in the 30's. But no matter how far past that period we grow, and with all the technological advancements guiding us towards a more prosperous future, we are no closer to that vision than in the decade when it was envisioned. And rightly so. The perfect vision of the future is perfect because it will never happen, yet it already has. The Scarab looks both futuristic and dated at once. It reminds us of a parallel universe, spurred off in the 1930s and locked now for us in soft focus celluloid memories. A Jetsons vision of the universe where everyone prospers, everyone is loved, and cars fly.

Check out the full article here: A Visionary’s Minivan Arrived Decades Too Soon - New York Times