Google Maps Street View has captured a biker taking their lives into their own hands.
They were spotted performing a very dangerous stunt as they drove down the road.
The bike in the photo is no ordinary bike, however, as a sidecar is attached to the vehicle.
This doesn’t stop the biker from succeeding in pulling off a gravity-defying feat.
The amazing photo reveals the bike tilting onto one side, so that the sidecar is lifted off the ground.
The sight is certainly pretty incredible, as it would take quite some skill to carry off.
However, the stunt is incredibly dangerous as if the bike tilted over any further the whole contraption could crash to the ground.
This could easily result in the biker being crushed under the weight of the bike.
As it is, the angle of the bike is incredibly precarious. One wrong move could send it toppling over.
Fortunately, the biker appears to be wearing protective gear and a helmet – but that wouldn’t prevent them from being trapped by the weight of the bike.
Perhaps the biker was well aware of the presence of the Google car in front and wanted to show off.
It’s unclear how long they drove at such an angle, as Google users are only shown that one snapshot in time.
The bold biker is far from the only person performing an impressive stunt on Google Maps Street View.
]]>https://briefnews.eu/google-maps-street-view-brave-biker-captured-performing-deadly-gravity-defying-stunt/feed/0This Gravity-Defying Japanese Architect Is Breaking the Rules
https://briefnews.eu/this-gravity-defying-japanese-architect-is-breaking-the-rules/
https://briefnews.eu/this-gravity-defying-japanese-architect-is-breaking-the-rules/#respondThu, 12 Apr 2018 07:17:46 +0000http://briefnews.eu/this-gravity-defying-japanese-architect-is-breaking-the-rules/Does architecture need to be freed? And, if it does, freed from what? I was a little skeptical both of the title of the new show at Paris’ Fondation Cartier, Freeing Architecture: Junya Ishigami, and of the young and impossibly cool Japanese architect who is its subject. But the skepticism fell gently away as he led me through the works in a torrent of vague, almost childlike descriptions.
Dressed in what looked like a vintage 1970s leather jacket — slightly scuffed, too small and with a big rounded collar — skinny black trousers and Cuban heels, Ishigami is himself an almost ethereal presence, moving weightlessly between exhibits like a marionette. Those qualities are apparent in most of his work too, which seems unfeasibly light; how exactly it stays up isn’t always obvious.
This is the first monographic exhibition on an architect staged by the Fondation Cartier in its 24-year history, and it seems remarkable that such a prestigious show should be devoted to an architect who appears to have built so little. Ishigami, who is 43 (which is, in architectural terms, late infancy), previously worked at SANAA with Kazuyo Sejima and is a little younger than Japan’s other young star, Sou Fujimoto. Both SANAA and Fujimoto appear almost obsessed with lightness, with the creation of a ghostly architecture that denies a building’s most obvious characteristic — weight — and its greatest opponent — gravity.
Ishigami seems to have avoided a serious encounter with gravity so far. In this show, he begins to reveal how he will cope.
Being known mostly for his few exhibition commissions (including the gorgeous greenery of the Japanese pavilion at the Venice Biennale in 2008), Ishigami seems to have avoided a serious encounter with gravity so far. In this show, he begins to reveal how he will cope. His approach is to conceive of his architecture not exactly as landscape but as something about landscape. Every one of the projects displayed here deals in some way with the particular conditions of the ground, and the ideas (often extremely simple) are extruded directly from the site.
There is, for instance, a visitor center in a forest (Vijversburg in the Netherlands) in which, rather than chopping down trees, he threaded the building along existing woodland paths, extruding glass tentacles between the trees. There is a chapel in China that sits in a steep-sided ravine and extends its sheer verticality in a tall tower. There is a low-roofed house for his mother that disappears into the ground, and a 1-kilometer-long building (also in China) that is just a single roof, more like a walkway so long and slender that it begins to appear as part of the landscape itself.
If these buildings sit lightly on the land, there are others that instead carve out the earth to create a far weightier atmosphere, an appreciation of the character of the subterranean. The most striking of these are the proposals for a dwelling and restaurant in Yamaguchi, Japan. Holes are dug and filled with concrete. The surrounding earth is then excavated, leaving negative forms that function as columns — a counterintuitive, upside-down architecture. The earth is bonded to the concrete and the result should be a kind of grotto. It is a weird solution but also slightly brilliant, an architecture of sensation and association, of feeling the earth. “If we eat in an old building,” Ishigami tells me, “it has a good atmosphere which we don’t get if we’re in a new office building. I didn’t want to create space as an ornament or to make something that looked like an amusement park.”
Similarly, for the Polytechnic Museum in Moscow (a huge 19th-century building housing the city’s science museum), rather than create an extension as most architects would, Ishigami looked underground. “The building was in very good condition,” he tells me, “but the foundations were … er … turned to dust.” Crumbling? I suggest. “Yes, yes, so we used that condition. We had to rebuild underground anyway and we carved out a bowl around the building.” The extension, then, is a new basement, depicted here as a forest of concrete columns of different sizes and shapes through which exhibitions can be threaded.
There are even odder buildings here. Describing an attenuated roof set in a landscape of pebbles, Ishigami tells me: “This is a very beautiful landscape [Dali in Yunnan province, China] but change is very rapid and it won’t be there for long, so the idea is to preserve the landscape inside.” This is a plan for a series of five huge holiday homes, all on one level and all under one single flat roof pierced with round skylights like a slice of Swiss cheese. The boulders that litter the landscape are preserved inside, holding up the roof so there is no need for extra columns. The topography becomes the structure and is enveloped inside.
The exhibition is dominated by a meandering model of an arch proposed for Sydney, a kind of warped version of the St Louis landmark. “I wanted it to be like a line drawn in the air,” Ishigami explains, “so it looks different from every angle, and someone used to approaching from one street has a completely different picture of it from someone coming from another place.”
There is also model of a kindergarten with shapes derived from cartoonish animals, and a tank of water with a billowing concrete canopy that seems to float on its surface. This is an offshore pavilion near Copenhagen that is accessible only by boat. It looks like a concrete cloud.
My favorite is what looks like a village tightly packed with little houses but which, it transpires, is a residential home for elderly Alzheimer’s patients in Tohoku, Japan. The architect scoured the country looking for homes that were being demolished and brought parts of them to the site to create a collection of rooms that each have a distinct lived-in character, their scale and materials breeding a sense of familiarity that is intended to comfort residents.
Finally, there is a model of Ishigami’s (completed) workshops for the Kanagawa Institute of Technology, an exquisite-looking forest of slender columns around which students congregate to make their own space. It will be counterpointed by an entirely column-free space in which the roof simply drapes across the room, drooping under its own weight like a sheet hung between two walls. The model here is a compelling piece of work that genuinely expresses something about gravity and the tolerance of materials.
Although this exhibition promises much, there is no real way to tell whether the promise can be fulfilled. Ishigami’s statements are vague, perhaps because of his slightly faltering English, perhaps deliberately. When I ask him for a little more detail, he points me toward the Japanese garden and the idea of shakkei, which he translates as “borrowing scenery”; it is the practice of including the surrounding landscape in a garden’s design. “I want architecture to be an extension of the existing nature,” he says.
But the question remains, freeing architecture from what? Ishigami does, I think, suggest an answer in this fascinating exhibition. Freeing it from its history and the burden of its expectations, its weight in every sense. Freeing it, in effect, from itself.
]]>
https://briefnews.eu/this-gravity-defying-japanese-architect-is-breaking-the-rules/feed/0My 550km/h, gravity-defying adrenaline rush
https://briefnews.eu/my-550km-h-gravity-defying-adrenaline-rush/
https://briefnews.eu/my-550km-h-gravity-defying-adrenaline-rush/#respondFri, 02 Mar 2018 10:34:52 +0000http://briefnews.eu/my-550km-h-gravity-defying-adrenaline-rush/TWIRLING through the skies at speeds of up to 550km/h is not your average day in the office — that is, unless you’re a Royal Australian Air Force Roulettes pilot.
A joy ride with these talented kings of the sky, in town to perform aerobatic stunts at the Adelaide 500, is high-octane, stomach-churning stuff. And I couldn’t get enough of it.
The seriousness of a flight aboard the Roulettes’ signature red Pilatus PC9/A aircraft dawns on me long before I reach the tarmac.
There’s a medical involved and then a helmet and G-suit fitting. We’re expected to feel up to 4.5G — or 4½ times our weight — through our bodies during this flight.
We’re even wearing a knife — in case we need to get ejected from the aircraft and our parachute gets stuck in a tree — and a safety equipment harness containing things like waterproof matches, a torch and, of course, a lifejacket.
But the professionalism and calm nature of the pilots makes me want nothing more than to climb inside that two-seat advanced training aircraft — even if strapping in is, to quote one of the pilots, like “wrangling an octopus”.
They pull off complex manoeuvres like barrel rolls, loops and “the corkscrew” while flying just 3m from each other — it’s as if I could high-five my neighbour.
The roll backs are my favourite stunt. Flying in formation, I feel the tight squeeze of the G-suit expanding (to keep my blood pumping in the right places) before we dramatically peel up, then down and roll to the left. So. Much. Fun.
And that really gets to the heart of what the Roulettes are all about: community engagement, and showing the public just what RAAF pilots can do.
Stadium Super Trucks at the Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker1 of 16
Stadium super trucks. Picture: Dylan Coker2 of 16
The crowd at the Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker3 of 16
Stephen Ormond with his son Jacob, 6, and daughter Lily, 9. Picture: Dylan Coker4 of 16
Vanessa Greenham with her children Dakota, 5 and Koen, 9. Picture: Tait Schmaal5 of 16
Michael Budimir with his brother Vasja, enjoying his first Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker6 of 16
Rick Kelly drives the #15 Nissan Motorsport Nissan Altima during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images7 of 16
Craig Lowndes drives the #888 Autobarn Lowndes Racing Holden Commodore ZB during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images8 of 16
James Courtney drives the #25 Mobil 1 Boost Mobile Racing Holden Commodore ZB during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images9 of 16
Shane Van Gisbergen drives the #97 Red Bull Holden Racing Team Holden Commodore ZB during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images10 of 16
Will Davison drives the #230 Milwaukee Racing Ford Falcon FGX during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images11 of 16
Will Davison, driver of the #230 Milwaukee Racing Ford Falcon FGX, looks on during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images12 of 16
Adelaide 500. Pictured is Mark Winterbottom and his son Oliver who turns 7yrs today with his wife Renee and their other son Austin, 5yrs. Picture: DYLAN COKER13 of 16
Adelaide 500. Pictured is Mark Winterbottom’s son Oliver who turns 7yrs today sits in dad’s race car for the first time. Picture: DYLAN COKER14 of 16
Touring Car Masters Jim Policina and Jason Gomersall. Picture: Dylan Coker15 of 16
Dale Wood and Nick McBride in the Porsche Cup of the Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker16 of 16
Stadium Super Trucks at the Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker
Stadium super trucks. Picture: Dylan Coker
The crowd at the Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker
Stephen Ormond with his son Jacob, 6, and daughter Lily, 9. Picture: Dylan Coker
Vanessa Greenham with her children Dakota, 5 and Koen, 9. Picture: Tait Schmaal
Michael Budimir with his brother Vasja, enjoying his first Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker
Rick Kelly drives the #15 Nissan Motorsport Nissan Altima during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images
Craig Lowndes drives the #888 Autobarn Lowndes Racing Holden Commodore ZB during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images
James Courtney drives the #25 Mobil 1 Boost Mobile Racing Holden Commodore ZB during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images
Shane Van Gisbergen drives the #97 Red Bull Holden Racing Team Holden Commodore ZB during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images
Will Davison drives the #230 Milwaukee Racing Ford Falcon FGX during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images
Will Davison, driver of the #230 Milwaukee Racing Ford Falcon FGX, looks on during qualifying for Supercars Adelaide 500. Picture: Daniel Kalisz/Getty Images
Adelaide 500. Pictured is Mark Winterbottom and his son Oliver who turns 7yrs today with his wife Renee and their other son Austin, 5yrs. Picture: DYLAN COKER
Adelaide 500. Pictured is Mark Winterbottom’s son Oliver who turns 7yrs today sits in dad’s race car for the first time. Picture: DYLAN COKER
Touring Car Masters Jim Policina and Jason Gomersall. Picture: Dylan Coker
Dale Wood and Nick McBride in the Porsche Cup of the Adelaide 500. Picture: Dylan Coker
Flight Lieutenant Des Hales said their main job was “talking to kids and showing them how much fun it is to fly”.
“When I was a little kid the Roulettes came to my home town — I’m from a little town in Western Australia,” he said.
“They came through and did a loop and battle-break pitch and from there I was just like, ‘I want to do that’.”
And as we take the scenic coastal route back to the RAAF’s Edinburgh base, I can understand why these guys love what they do.
The RAAF Roulettes will perform at the Adelaide 500 today at 10.58am and tomorrow at 10.45am.