a desert hotel standing alone on open scrub, empty to the horizon, seen from across open ground at dusk, the ground running off the lower edge. A pavilion standing on slender pilotis with the ground running beneath it, built of one material carried across every face, the detailing severe: a roof edge like a knife, frameless glazing, one plane meeting another with a shadow gap between them. The glazed run burns hot amber from end to end with the furniture standing dark against it, the one bright thing in the landscape. Deep blue dusk sky, one value step darker at the top, and dark saturated ground below. the glazed run is divided into sixty identical bays, counted. Fine grain with halation spreading from each lit opening. Wealthy, private, early evening — the house in use and the people inside it out of view.