>>> 09/01/02
Quod me nutrit me destuit ...
Dear Anti-Journalisti,Landscape Architecture appears to have entered the revolutionary month of Vegetal -- the "time of sleep". This "month" could last years ... As such, this will be the last edition of The Anti-Journal. Now, with landscape rhetoric and cultural poetics eclipsed by sheepish pragmatics and suspect post-theory, it is time to reflect.
This last edition (2:2) is, then, a type of "aubade" -- a song sung at daybreak out-of-doors. It is addressed to those who await the return of landscape as the total work of art; to those who dream.
The Anti-Journal has progressed, since early 2001, through four editions, from a hard-hitting (sometimes sardonic) critical operation to what you now have before you -- a literary-poetic amalgam of interests and influences. Curiously, the top-performing page remains Why We Are Not Rem Koolhaas (Anti-Journal 1:1), which is why we have taken it down.
It is now time to refrain from making noise, and to observe things silently. Apropos of sitting transfixed in India, this past January, gazing at coconut palm fronds etched against the evening sky, Landscape Agency New York will now -- out of necessity -- turn to other things.
XXOX,
Gavin Keeney
New York, New York
