The gray and windy city.

Chicago.

Overcast and windy. The sky has a flatness that deadens the city beneath it, a quality of muted light from all directions that accentuates the dullness of the city's concrete. It desaturates the colors, shifting everything a step closer to gray. I can see almost three dozen buildings from this spot, and the only one where I can see any evidence of human activity is the one that's currently under construction. Most of the rest could be derelict warehouses, for all I know.

High-rent, derelict warehouses.

True, they make pretty nice office spaces, with high ceilings, a lot of window area, and a comforting mix of brick and timber. Their flexibility for renovation and reuse has made them justifiably popular for all sorts of tenants. Personally, I like the industrial, functionalist aesthetic, when pared down to minimalism. The trend with the architectural community is to take that idea and mash it with a gadget-loving techiness, a love of stainless steel and glass and whatever's flashy. The result is a horrid mess. They praise Mies for his modernism, for his elegance, but forget that those notions of simplicity were to provide decent architecture for the masses by eschewing the fanciful and expensive ornamentation of Architecture (capital A) up to that point.

Yes, you can pick and choose the elements of your design philosophy. I just feel that the design community has chosen poorly.

They're also lousy at making good use of daylight, but that's a gripe for another day.