There was a cover drive played by Justin Langer during Australia’s little second innings that made me think of Le Corbusier. Well, that is, it brought to mind a small article I’d read in an old Vogue Living magazine about the Swiss architect (that’s the extent of my architecture & design research so far) and the compact little hut that he built across the bay from Monte Carlo – Le Cabanon (The Shed). This shed is remarkable for its functional simplicity, an extreme example of Le Corbusier’s vision of a house as a ‘machine for living’. VOGUE LIVING – “Le Corbusier called his creation a ‘tiny cell on a human scale’ in which ‘not a single centimetre was wasted’ … the genius of functionalism sweeping aside insurmountable space restrictions to create an extraordinarily compact dwelling”.

Justin is of course a machine for batting but this particular shot had all that simplicity about it, not a single millimetre of movement was wasted or in excess. It was all perfect balance and angles. Justin has stripped back batting to its essentials, the functional minimalism is extraordinarily attractive. Justin often holds a shot after he has played it for some time. He retains the structure that he has produced, his shed, for as long as the game allows – he will just stand there with his front foot stretched forward, his elbow high and his bat held aloft, his head in perfect alignment. He is austere. Kind of monkish.

The dwelling of the batsman, or perhaps it is the foundation of the batsman as a dwelling, is the crease. The crease becomes the basic element in modern architecture. See Mies van der Rohe’s Farnsworth House. It is a series of creases. Look at any architectural plans and it’s all only creases in various articulations.

Adam Gilchrist spends his days floating about creases.