The ‘little kiosk artistically considered’ lives in limbo: it is an irrelevant monument. It is as much a kiosk as it is a proud piece of architecture. The ‘kiosk’ has a grand timber roof which recalls the sharp lines of Prairie architecture and underlines the vistas to the park and Lake Michigan. Under the roof, a glass box surprises with its verticality. It hosts all kinds of cultural and commercial programs, as well as a marble column. The ‘kiosk’ is made of familiar elements assembled in an unorthodox manner. It invites the visitor to reconsider its relationship to the city and to architecture as a necessarily referential discipline. Its architectural language is clear and honest: anyone can dismount and remount it, both literally and mentally, but its poetry lies in the fact that it never truly belongs. Like a child lost in a city of adults.