The jumble of contradictory impulses is apparent in the commendable essay on architecture, in which Hoeveler rightly describes Frank Gehry, Robert Venturi, and their ilk as repudiating modernism through an
antistyle of unrelated, halfhearted feints to various meanings.
Like any time period, now has a look and a feel; to get it down on film you need as much wit and esthetic stylization (absence of style,
antistyle, is still a style) as you do in a 19th-century weepie or futuristic thriller.
(Then crossbreed Carrington with Bacon, and let their hybrid work evolve through a few million generations of modified genetic algorithms, competing for survival measured in whorls and steep color gradients.) Generate
antistyles, parastyles, metastyles, and blow through a dozen future schools and genres in a month.