As I turn onto Abdullah bin Thani St – the street of possibilities – I am instantly struck by the sign. It speaks for itself.
8:11am, 5th Jan, and the next day.
The blank rear wall of the building with a slight crank and serated edges always catches my eye. It is an accidental but artful piece (is that a contradiction in terms ?)
Its proportion is roughly square and that makes me choose to draw a square frame before I start to draw.
Its peculiar crank is formed by its context – quite un-self-conscious; very attractive. These ownership lines, which naturally become building lines – extruded to become volumes, sculpted to become skylines – are old. They carry layers of narrative which I will never know. I always wonder why were the plots, and the relationships between the plots, not perfectly rectangular ? Why should they be?
I have heard that the carpark where I stand now was a graveyard in the early days of the city. In the ‘50’s, when the girls went to the school just to the South (it was new in those days), they felt its aura, so I am told. I hope this space will become a lush green park one day, with dappled shade beneath trees, and chairs and tables and beautiful buildings all around.
I wonder if my cranked friend – that is the building I am drawing, two days running – will remain or be replaced. Will it still preside over this space for many years to come, waiting for the Sun to move round each morning and graze its surface, dramatically delineating its two planes in light and shade – soft but strong ? Will it continue to conceal and reveal the minaret round the corner, as I follow the path towards ABT St ?
Time will tell.