San Anselmo 6
What is the essence of my style? My style. Yeah, my style.
My style is related to my cousin, Marta. Fuck.
Sensei says we have to begin at the beginning. Find the essence of
my vision. Hence, each design should be a revision, a rediscovery,
a renewal.
Marta, my Uncle Paul's daughter, is a designer with the ADC atelier in
Dresden. Loves the Sex Pistols, James Brown and NWA. But once,
a long time ago, she asked my Uncle Paul how God could have allowed a black
boy to have real German blood in his veins. There must have been
an error, she said, a stupid mistake. I was only ten and she said
it in German but I knew what she meant.
I remember that day very well. A cold, rainy day at the Porsche R&D
facility in Stuttgart. Uncle Paul put his hand on my shoulder and
asked me to forgive her insolence. She's always been a little odd,
he whispered, much too introspective, much too aloof, proud. I made
a thousand promises to myself that day. And I've kept 999 of them.
So I guess I have her to thank for inspiring my style.
And even though the years haven't done much to chill the bitch out, I've
come to like her. She's honest, talented and never lies. Besides,
the girl is family and family is blood. And now I can see that there
is so much German in all my work, these massive, curving concrete structures
of molded plastic and steel -- they look so cold and evil to the joyous
living -- but feel like a Bach cantata to those who aren't.
