TERREMOTO:  A vacant lot. An underpass in Culver City. A city amidst a city of cities. Nowhere, but also the center of the universe.

The train rumbles past above us beating along like a stop-motion glacial retreat, in steady quarter notes of light and shadow, thumps and clicks. The muscular concrete columns that support the track merge gracefully into the dust of the ground plane.At the edge of the lot, our clients have created a thriving post-mall, singling out this little edge of the public thoroughfare for a flourishing retail corridor, even as the global retail sector rings its death knell. More quarter notes.

Everywhere around us the inextinguishable and insatiable machinery of the Southland economy: The pulverized earth of Culver City construction, construction, construction, construction, construction.Beneath and among these grinding anti-historical swells of culture and commerce, these storms of transit and transience, Terremoto is asked to design an eye for a hurricane, a tube for a wave, a dale or hollow: a simple park for the unsorted exercises of being together, of a populace in respite. Culver City needs a culvert: that covered passageway for our flowing swiftly together.