There’s something intriguing about buildings that you don’t understand. More, you don’t comprehend the processes that go on within them. Nor why. So many offices are mirrored to reflect the world but say nothing. Government buildings tend towards a type - toilet tile facades - easily cleaned and equally disturbing.
Then there’s the Dahl-Xue plant. A place of perpetual steam, but not a noise otherwise. And one without a soul that I ever saw. Granted it’s big. It covers acres and acres stretching from the highway back away towards the airport.
On my few trips to the airport I never saw anyone. Come to think of it I didn’t know anyone who worked there, or whose family worked there. The factory was always just a presence in my life and that of our town.
It’s not that it was imposing or scary. It was just there, so readily blending into the background, shifting your focus as you travelled from town out to the airport. The city transitioning from residential and commercial zones to industrial then farm land before the airport appears out of the blue.
The Dahl-Xue plant in its white and silver aesthetic would lead one to think it’d be a garish blight on the land. But the stark cleanliness of the factory and intricate lines stood in contrast to the rolling hills that stretched out from it. It stood as a statement to what we could achieve, even if no-one knew what that was.
I was oddly comforted by its sight. Every time I returned home and passed the concrete paddocks surrounding the main terminal I knew how far I had come and how much I had yet to go.
Today’s art is courtesy of Max Steksov from Moscow, Russia.