Simon Wyler

Where's your brother?

Alex Wyler

I sent him away. He wasn't feeling well. You know how he is, he worries.

Simon Wyler

Yeah, I know. He gets that from your mother, I'm afraid. She always worried too much.

Alex Wyler

What are you looking at? [looks at architectural plans]

Simon Wyler

Hmm? Oh, yeah, here, take a gander. It's a proposal for a museum.

Alex Wyler

Who is it?

Simon Wyler

Someone new.

Alex Wyler

Oh, I like the walkways, where the light falls. What are the materials?

Simon Wyler

Granite. Aluminum.

Alex Wyler

White panels are straight out of Meier... but the interior color coming through the front windows, that's different. It's not new, but it's clean, uncluttered. I like it.

Simon Wyler

When was the last time you were in Barcelona?

Alex Wyler

Years ago, with you, Mom and Henry.

Simon Wyler

Do you remember visiting Casa de la Caritat?

Alex Wyler

The almshouse.

Simon Wyler

That's right. You mentioned Meier. His Barcelona museum stands in the same area as Casa de la Caritat. It drinks the same light. Meier designed a series of louvered skylights to capture that light and cast it inward to illuminate the art within, but indirectly. And, that was important, because although light enhances art, it can also degrade it. But, you know all that already, you son of a gun. Now, this... where do you suppose this is to be built?

Alex Wyler

I have no idea.

Simon Wyler

Oh, but you said you liked it.

Alex Wyler

Conceptually.

Simon Wyler

Now, come on. You know as well as I do that the light in Barcelona is quite different from the light in Tokyo. And, the light in Tokyo is different from that in Prague. A truly great structure, one that is meant to stand the tests of time never disregards its environment. A serious architect takes that into account. He knows that if he wants presence, he must consult with nature. He must be captivated by the light. Always the light. Always.