Description
Since the 1950s, Palm Springs has cultivated a resort architecture of which this hotel offers a dazzling version: three-storey wings with facades painted in blocks — red, coral, saffron, pink — answering one another across a courtyard planted with tall palms. The photograph was taken at the blue hour, that brief moment when the sky turns ink blue as the lights come on: each loggia then becomes a box of warm light, and the entire building begins to glow against the grey mass of the desert mountains. Below, the turquoise pool, ringed by folded yellow parasols, waits for the next day. The image plays on this tension between the repetitive geometry of the balconies and the exuberance of the colour, between the place’s assumed artifice and the raw minerality of the landscape that looms over it. A portrait of architecture as much as a suspended moment, just after the last swimmers have gone.
