Gurjit singh matharoo (12 risultati)

Condizione: New.

Condizione: New.

Paperback. Condizione: New. "I have known G (Gurjit Singh Matharoo) since the days I was a student, and him, my teacher, who gave one-liners or sometimes just one-word lessons at the School of Architecture1. One day, he was on the public phone at the School, maybe a distress call from a client, and as I was jaywalking past him, he pulled me over and asked to join him. As destiny would have it, I ended up as a proud intern in his three-person studio. Those were his struggling days, and with the practice gathering pace, a magazine approached him for an article on his work. He, instead, asked me to write something hurriedly. Just to avoid my discomfort with academic jargon, I said I would write about wit in his work, to which I was a key witness.".…

Condizione: As New. Unread book in perfect condition.

Condizione: New.

Condizione: New. In.

paperback. Condizione: New.

Paperback. Condizione: Brand New. 200 pages. 8.27x8.83x0.71 inches. In Stock.

Condizione: As New. Unread book in perfect condition.

Condizione: NEW.

Taschenbuch. Condizione: Neu. Neuware - I have known G (Gurjit Singh Matharoo) since the days I was a student, and him, my teacher, who gave one-liners or sometimes just one-word lessons at the School of Architecture1. One day, he was on the public phone at the School, maybe a distress call from a client, and as I was jaywalking past him, he pulled me over and asked to join him. As destiny would have it, I ended up as a proud intern in his three-person studio. Those were his struggling days, and with the practice gathering pace, a magazine approached him for an article on his work. He, instead, asked me to write something hurriedly. Just to avoid my discomfort with academic jargon, I said I would write about wit in his work, to which I was a key witness.…

Paperback. Condizione: New. "I have known G (Gurjit Singh Matharoo) since the days I was a student, and him, my teacher, who gave one-liners or sometimes just one-word lessons at the School of Architecture1. One day, he was on the public phone at the School, maybe a distress call from a client, and as I was jaywalking past him, he pulled me over and asked to join him. As destiny would have it, I ended up as a proud intern in his three-person studio. Those were his struggling days, and with the practice gathering pace, a magazine approached him for an article on his work. He, instead, asked me to write something hurriedly. Just to avoid my discomfort with academic jargon, I said I would write about wit in his work, to which I was a key witness.".…