tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186585452024-03-06T23:31:55.155-05:00Quiet Observations from Archi-hellA obviously biased account on why an individual might wish to pursue the joy of being an Architecture Professional.the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.comBlogger205125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-43744982539580164312021-09-11T12:08:00.002-04:002021-09-11T12:08:50.763-04:0020 Years Later<p>It's somewhat surreal. To image two decades have past. The area around the World Trade Center has been transformed. I have visited it, several times, over the years, watching the slow transformation of rubble and ruin into memory and action, to landmarks and icons. It has become a place of reverence and rebirth, moments of solemnity coinciding with the active hum of a city reinvigorated. Or was, until a new, faceless calamity came to town. </p><p>As I reflect on my words, written so many years ago, I still feel a resonance with my thoughts at that time. In some respects, the outcomes far exceeded the expectations I had. People returned, and the site has become both a memorial and a civic center, balanced in ways that allow for the continuing of life in the presence of death. </p><p>But the point of reflection is to not only celebrate the things achieved. It is to consider the things outstanding, the challenges still faced. What the past years have taught, and most recently have made quite clear, is that the unity felt in the immediate years after September 11th, only obscured long-standing feelings of division and resentment. And as the threat of a terrorist attack from abroad subsided, a new type of terror has gained a foothold from within. </p><p>Symbols, I believe, still carry power. That they carry with them the histories, memories, and values of place and people that is both timely and timeless. But the meanings of symbols are not fixed. Their power can be manipulated. And, right now, the power of the American Flag is the symbol I now reflect upon. The values that it now signals to others. There has been much written about the decline of American Democracy, and this ongoing experiment. The cynic in me finds it hard to ignore the prognostications of downfall and defeat. After all, there seems to be a certain inevitability about it. </p><p>However, I remember one of my visits to the 9/11 site. I had travelled there with architecture students, their guide for several days in the city that I once called home. At that time the memorial had just been completed, but the rest of the area was a sea of scaffolds and detours. It was, to be honest, chaos. And yet, as we came upon the walls of names, the noise of the world surrounding us seemed to dim, the emotional resonance of the place taking center stage. It was a moment where, despite the swirling cacophony around us, I was connected to not only the students that joined me, but the numerous strangers that were also there.</p><p>It is my hope that we do not need tragedy to find unity. That the sense of collective shared experience can be found outside of sorrow and pain. It is this hope that I put out into the world - an act of optimism in spite of my pessimistic tendencies. And a reminder, to myself, that we, as Architects, can play a role in creating the spaces where these shared experiences will occur. </p><p><br /></p><blockquote class="tr_bq"><h2 class="date-header"><span>Monday, September 11, 2006</span></h2><h3 class="post-title">The Power of a Symbol</h3><div class="MsoNormal">Five years ago, today, I sat in class, structures class if I remember correctly, trying to stay awake. After all, it was an 8:30 lecture. The moment class ended, a student stood up and said, simply, “The World Trade Center was just attacked.” It was 9:25 am.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">The student walked out without saying another word, and for a moment, I thought it was some weird practical joke. I would find out, five minutes later, eyes riveted to a television set in the department office, that it was not. It’s been said over and over again, the world changed that day. It’s not an exaggeration.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">I watched, on television, as the World Trade Center crumbled down, floor by floor, until it was lost in the cloud of its own dust. I remember our academic advisor bursting out into tears, as we stared on in disbelief. I remember walking home, after school officially closed, thinking, how could the weather be so perfect, the day so unbelievably beautiful, when, elsewhere, chaos was erupting.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">As we would learn, the targets were specific. The buildings were chosen for the special meanings they embodied. They were symbols, markers. It was meant to be as significant a psychological blow as it was a physical catastrophe.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">As we look on, five years later, so much has yet to be done. The wound is still open, the healing not really begun. In the wake of 9/11, a call went out, a challenge made, one which some considered <i>the </i>opportunity for architects to reassert the value of their work. Rebuild on suddenly sacred ground, and create something that respected the past while inspiring the future. It was a wish for remembrance. It was a cry for defiance.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">I fear for the success. I feel deflated by the solution. And perhaps, more than anything else, I am disappointed by the process. Politics, egos, personal interests – they dominate the rebuilding process. They are the stories to arise from the rubble of that day.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">Three years ago, during a scholarship interview, I was asked the question on everyone’s mind, “What do you think should be done at the World Trade Center site?” A loaded question. I faced four strangers who looked on expectantly.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">I told them that what I hoped for. I hoped for a place that would remember the significance of the event while engendering new life, new activity, a new spirit. I hoped that, in the process of reconstruction, disparate parties might unite under a common goal, a vision that could encapsulate the hopes, memories, desires of the expectant millions watching. I told them that the challenge, above anything else, would be reconciling the desires of those who saw the site as a massive graveyard and those who saw the site as an opportunity for massive redevelopment. I told them that any solution would have to successfully address both. That life and death, happiness and sadness, would need to exist, side by side. I told them that I believed architecture had the power to reach such greatness.</div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal">I still believe in that greatness. I still believe that architecture can take on such weight, such responsibility. It is the power of a symbol – this ability for concrete objects to illicit abstract emotions. I just don’t know, given the process so far, if the results will ever meet the heavy expectations. Some might say nothing would. And perhaps they are right. But, perhaps, if the process hadn’t been derailed the way it has, there might have been a better chance for success.</div></blockquote>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-22877384040838659692013-09-11T10:41:00.002-04:002013-09-11T10:42:38.662-04:00Revisiting 9/11What is now a tradition for me, I re-post this every September 11th. Hopefully, when the WTC area is complete, I'll be able to visit, and reflect on what the area has become. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h2 class="date-header">
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Monday, September 11, 2006</span></h2>
<h3 class="post-title">
The Power of a Symbol </h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five
years ago, today, I sat in class, structures class if I remember
correctly, trying to stay awake. After all, it was an 8:30 lecture. The
moment class ended, a student stood up and said, simply, “The World
Trade Center was just attacked.” It was 9:25 am.</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
student walked out without saying another word, and for a moment, I
thought it was some weird practical joke. I would find out, five minutes
later, eyes riveted to a television set in the department office, that
it was not. It’s been said over and over again, the world changed that
day. It’s not an exaggeration.</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched, on television, as the World Trade Center crumbled down,
floor by floor, until it was lost in the cloud of its own dust. I
remember our academic advisor bursting out into tears, as we stared on
in disbelief. I remember walking home, after school officially closed,
thinking, how could the weather be so perfect, the day so unbelievably
beautiful, when, elsewhere, chaos was erupting. </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
As
we would learn, the targets were specific. The buildings were chosen
for the special meanings they embodied. They were symbols, markers. It
was meant to be as significant a psychological blow as it was a physical
catastrophe. </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
As
we look on, five years later, so much has yet to be done. The wound is
still open, the healing not really begun. In the wake of 9/11, a call
went out, a challenge made, one which some considered <i>the </i>opportunity
for architects to reassert the value of their work. Rebuild on
suddenly sacred ground, and create something that respected the past
while inspiring the future. It was a wish for remembrance. It was a cry
for defiance. </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
fear for the success. I feel deflated by the solution. And perhaps,
more than anything else, I am disappointed by the process. Politics,
egos, personal interests – they dominate the rebuilding process. They
are the stories to arise from the rubble of that day. </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Three
years ago, during a scholarship interview, I was asked the question on
everyone’s mind, “What do you think should be done at the World Trade
Center site?” A loaded question. I faced four strangers who looked on
expectantly. </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
told them that what I hoped for. I hoped for a place that would
remember the significance of the event while engendering new life, new
activity, a new spirit. I hoped that, in the process of reconstruction,
disparate parties might unite under a common goal, a vision that could
encapsulate the hopes, memories, desires of the expectant millions
watching. I told them that the challenge, above anything else, would be
reconciling the desires of those who saw the site as a massive
graveyard and those who saw the site as an opportunity for massive
redevelopment. I told them that any solution would have to successfully
address both. That life and death, happiness and sadness, would need
to exist, side by side. I told them that I believed architecture had
the power to reach such greatness. </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
still believe in that greatness. I still believe that architecture can
take on such weight, such responsibility. It is the power of a symbol –
this ability for concrete objects to illicit abstract emotions. I just
don’t know, given the process so far, if the results will ever meet
the heavy expectations. Some might say nothing would. And perhaps they
are right. But, perhaps, if the process hadn’t been derailed the way it
has, there might have been a better chance for success. </div>
</blockquote>
the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-90408086552778513442012-10-01T22:25:00.001-04:002012-10-01T22:25:35.947-04:00And More on the Fall OutTwo of my most popular posts are: <a href="http://archi-hell.blogspot.com/2012/02/so-you-want-to-be-architect.html">So you want to be an Architect?</a> and <a href="http://archi-hell.blogspot.com/2010/01/fall-out.html">the Fall Out</a>. It is amazing and disheartening to think that, two years later, we are still wondering whether we've hit bottom. <a href="http://crosscut.com/2012/09/25/architecture/110494/architectural-jobs-interns-economy-recession-/">This </a>just popped in my inbox, sent by a fellow architecture friend, and it calls to mind much of what those two entries focused on. The author speaks eloquently about the multifaceted problem that is the professional world that we through ourselves into.<br />
<br />
As I teach, I sometimes wonder why the schism between the culture of school and the culture of practice exists. If we are a professional degree, should we not be preparing students to practice? And if we truly feel that the education we currently provide is important, is it time to expand the education track rather than, as NAAB has set forth, limited it even more? If our students do not feel prepared or supported, than will we, as the article hypothesizes, lose a generation? And what happens then?<br />
<br />
If anything, I hope that this Fall Out has forced our profession, and those within it, to take a serious look at the fundamental structure of how we teach, develop and practice. If anything, the last two or three years of my own professional life, has confirmed that, if I wish to pursue this, it will be a road of detours and pitfalls. I hope that, in time, I'll find a more direct path. Or, perhaps, I'll just look back at this time and realize it was necessary. Whatever the case may be, I'm just glad I'm not alone. And I am glad we're talking about it. the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-48207848761258733912012-09-11T11:01:00.000-04:002012-09-11T11:05:50.432-04:00Revisiting 9/11I wrote this years ago, but as we remember the events of today, 11 years ago, I thought I'd re-post my thoughts.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h2 class="date-header">
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Monday, September 11, 2006</span></h2>
<h3 class="post-title">
The Power of a Symbol </h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five
years ago, today, I sat in class, structures class if I remember
correctly, trying to stay awake. After all, it was an 8:30 lecture. The
moment class ended, a student stood up and said, simply, “The World
Trade Center was just attacked.” It was 9:25 am.</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
The
student walked out without saying another word, and for a moment, I
thought it was some weird practical joke. I would find out, five minutes
later, eyes riveted to a television set in the department office, that
it was not. It’s been said over and over again, the world changed that
day. It’s not an exaggeration.</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched, on television, as the World Trade Center crumbled down,
floor by floor, until it was lost in the cloud of its own dust. I
remember our academic advisor bursting out into tears, as we stared on
in disbelief. I remember walking home, after school officially closed,
thinking, how could the weather be so perfect, the day so unbelievably
beautiful, when, elsewhere, chaos was erupting. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
As
we would learn, the targets were specific. The buildings were chosen
for the special meanings they embodied. They were symbols, markers. It
was meant to be as significant a psychological blow as it was a physical
catastrophe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
As
we look on, five years later, so much has yet to be done. The wound is
still open, the healing not really begun. In the wake of 9/11, a call
went out, a challenge made, one which some considered <i>the </i>opportunity
for architects to reassert the value of their work. Rebuild on
suddenly sacred ground, and create something that respected the past
while inspiring the future. It was a wish for remembrance. It was a cry
for defiance. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
fear for the success. I feel deflated by the solution. And perhaps,
more than anything else, I am disappointed by the process. Politics,
egos, personal interests – they dominate the rebuilding process. They
are the stories to arise from the rubble of that day. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Three
years ago, during a scholarship interview, I was asked the question on
everyone’s mind, “What do you think should be done at the World Trade
Center site?” A loaded question. I faced four strangers who looked on
expectantly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
told them that what I hoped for. I hoped for a place that would
remember the significance of the event while engendering new life, new
activity, a new spirit. I hoped that, in the process of reconstruction,
disparate parties might unite under a common goal, a vision that could
encapsulate the hopes, memories, desires of the expectant millions
watching. I told them that the challenge, above anything else, would be
reconciling the desires of those who saw the site as a massive
graveyard and those who saw the site as an opportunity for massive
redevelopment. I told them that any solution would have to successfully
address both. That life and death, happiness and sadness, would need
to exist, side by side. I told them that I believed architecture had
the power to reach such greatness. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
still believe in that greatness. I still believe that architecture can
take on such weight, such responsibility. It is the power of a symbol –
this ability for concrete objects to illicit abstract emotions. I just
don’t know, given the process so far, if the results will ever meet
the heavy expectations. Some might say nothing would. And perhaps they
are right. But, perhaps, if the process hadn’t been derailed the way it
has, there might have been a better chance for success. </div>
</blockquote>
the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-60170183980811535322012-08-29T10:00:00.000-04:002012-08-29T10:01:43.040-04:00Dating an ArchitectA, sadly accurate, <a href="http://www.howaboutwe.com/date-report/9-things-they-dont-tell-you-about-dating-an-architect/#">summary</a> of the trials and tribulations of dating an Architect. It's probably why I am single. Thanks to <a href="http://www.howaboutwe.com/">www.howaboutwe.com</a> for the list below:<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="number"></span><br />
<br />
<h3>
“Architects make a lot of money.”</h3>
<br />
This is not true. (But people assume it is.)<br />
<br />
<span class="number"></span><span class="number"></span><br />
<br />
<h3>
Architects are used to late nights.</h3>
<br />
In theory, it shouldn’t be a problem to stay up all night for
sexytime. But in reality, they probably pulled an all-nighter last night
and are ready to crash at 8 tonight.<br />
<br />
<b></b><br />
<b><a href="http://www.howaboutwe.com/date-report/10-reasons-to-date-someone-in-the-arts/" target="_blank"></a></b><br />
<h3>
There is no such thing as a fat architect.</h3>
<br />
For some reason. I have no idea.<br />
<br />
<span class="number"></span><br />
<br />
<h3>
Things you never even knew existed are now the most important. thing. ever.</h3>
<br />
“That is the ugliest fucking radiator ever”, “How did they not align
the light switch with the outlet?” “What’s your favorite kind of hinge?”
“What’s your favorite CAD command?”<br />
<br />
<span class="number"></span><br />
<br />
<h3>
They’re probably anal.</h3>
<br />
They probably have one of three “systems” for organizing their
bookshelves: by color, by size (largest to smallest), by publisher. None
of these make any sense and ironically provide the very opposite of
“order”, but it doesn’t matter, because it looks better. In fact, they
will have a “system” for everything, including organizing the fridge and
how to put their clothes away. You might think it’s cute at first, an
endearing quirk – until you realize how much of their precious little
free time is consumed by obsessing over things that a) no one cares
about and b) does not enhance their lives in any way.<br />
<br />
<span class="number"></span><br />
<br />
<h3>
After a while, you will only hang out with architects.</h3>
<br />
This happens. Hope you don’t just love your architect, but that you love ALL architects.<br />
<br />
<b></b><br />
<b><a href="http://www.howaboutwe.com/date-report/what-its-like-to-marry-a-chef/" target="_blank"></a></b><br />
<h3>
Architects handle relationship/life stress well.</h3>
<br />
Because anything is less stressful than a deadline.<br />
<br />
<span class="number"></span><br />
<br />
<h3>
You won’t get studio.</h3>
<br />
Prepare yourself for constant references to this mysterious place
called “studio” that they spent every waking moment of their college
lives in, and never being let on on the inside jokes, with explanations
like “you had to be there” or “it was a lot funnier at four in the
morning.”<br />
<br />
<span class="number"></span><br />
<br />
<h3>
They will be coffee snobs.</h3>
<br />
If it’s not organically grown, economically sustainable and socially
consciously harvested, and brewed in a vintage French Press OR a Chemex,
chances are, <a href="http://www.howaboutwe.com/date-report/what-your-coffee-order-says-about-you-to-a-date/" target="_blank">they might politely decline your coffee</a>.
Until, four minutes later, they realize they’re caffeine deprived and,
ethics be damned, this presentation needs to get to Dubai by 1AM…<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3>
Architects are passionate, dedicated people.</h3>
<br />
They didn’t get through 5 years of architectural school by being
lazy, indifferent and stupid. (Need a first date conversation starter?
Ask them about how many people dropped out of their program freshman
year – they’ll be all too proud to tell you that “they were one of the
few” who made it out unscathed.”) They know just enough about every
culturally relevant artist, philosopher, composer etc to make them seem
exceptionally worldly and cultured – your parents should love them. Keep
in mind that it’s all a facade (no pun intended!) and that if you were
to press them on any one of those topics, they’ll find a way to
skillfully manipulate the conversation into some abstract “concept” and
avoid being called out on not knowing shit.</blockquote>
<br />
the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-60713538840570451772012-08-22T19:08:00.000-04:002012-08-29T10:01:59.712-04:00Check this out<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/47713555" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" width="360"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/47713555">Fearful Symmetry at Tate Tanks - teaser</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user11689703">Ruairi Glynn</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
<br />
Wish I could be there. I went to graduate school with Ruairi. He impressed me then, and this shows why.<br />
<br />the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-88071856989809758852012-06-20T16:53:00.000-04:002012-06-20T16:53:33.101-04:00More signs of the times<a href="http://archrecord.construction.com/news/2012/06/120618-Battered-by-the-Recession-Architects-Pursue-New-Lines-of-Work.asp">Read this?</a> Yeah, not that encouraging.<br />
<br />
The reality of our profession, post-recession, is something we need to seriously consider. What is the value of any degree that leads to unemployment? Should we encourage those in the generations to come to invest their time and money if this is their future?<br />
<br />
I was in New York this past weekend for a friend's wedding. Many of my old classmates and colleagues were there, as it was the union of two classmates that we were celebrating. And as I caught up with them, it became more and more obvious that the realities of the article - of architects leaving the profession by choice or not - was becoming the norm. Of my friends, at least half of them were now in "alternative" careers - they were related to design, in some way, but definitely outside Architecture's traditional bounds.<br />
<br />
It makes me think, particularly as I teach, if I preach an unobtainable dream. Our profession has increasingly become a commodity, tied to the whims and instability of fads and economies.We can never be broken from the finances that fund our work; however, without asserting that the value of what we do extends beyond luxury and excess, we will continue to be the first of professions cut when times get tough. <br />
<br />
We face uncertain times, that much is clear. This might, however, be the best opportunity for our profession to carefully examine itself, make tough choices, and reinvent itself. If we don't, The statistics of the article will not represent a disconcerting trend, but our profession's future.the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-75907474343616821502012-05-16T22:06:00.000-04:002012-05-16T22:06:19.431-04:00FailureI've been dragging my feet. Procrastinating. Blaming everything and anything for why I still haven't gotten around to it. But, really, the reason is simple. I haven't tried to complete my AREs because, well, I failed the first one I took.<br />
<br />
I'm embarrassed. I've never failed anything. I prided myself on that; in the end, I'd pull it out because I'd put in the time, the effort, to make it happen. Not this time. This time, I opened a letter and, as dramatic as it sounds, my world as I knew it disappeared.<br />
<br />
I feel like a fraud. A phoney. I excelled at school, and yet, when I needed it most, I couldn't find success. Instead I've let a year and a half go by, ignoring the biggest elephant in the room. I know that, if I ever want to call myself an "Architect", I have to make it past this final obstacle. But, right now, I'm ready to throw in the towel.<br />
<br />the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-18013531575462099902012-04-18T00:37:00.001-04:002012-04-18T00:37:16.526-04:00Where do we go?I've pondered it a lot, lately. And, I am not the only one. Head over the <a href="http://www.archdaily.com/226248/after-the-meltdown-where-does-architecture-go-from-here/#more-226248">Archdaily</a> to check out another perspective on the Future of Architecture.the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-65544080020861936232012-03-19T00:02:00.000-04:002012-03-19T00:02:28.925-04:00Missed the Boat?When the economy tanked and the profession sent into chaos, the question myself and my friends faced was not, "<i>when </i>will we work again", but "<i>where</i> we work again?" I found myself back at home, as my original plans to return to New York evaporated with the imaginary billions of Wall Street. Others I knew waited months, even almost a year, trying to find that elusive new position. And a few more, well, they didn't have a choice. They picked up and found themselves someplace new.<br />
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Reading <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/18/magazine/architects-in-china-building-the-american-dream.html?_r=1&hp">this</a>, today, in the NYTimes, reminded me of that time - when I was faced with options I never imagined or wanted. Our profession has been radically altered; I entered thinking that, after school, I would find a job in a reputable firm, work my way up, and one day find myself a partner, looking back on the years dedicated and the projects accomplished. Anyone reading this knows that wasn't the case. And, <a href="http://archi-hell.blogspot.com/2012/02/so-you-want-to-be-architect.html">as the articles I have recently posted reflect</a>, this hasn't been the case for many now coming into our fold. <br />
<br />
I wonder if, now, "where they build" will be far away. If China, or Dubai, or India, will be the land of opportunity, experimentation, innovation. If we will find more and more of our graduates abroad because, while we continue to train plenty, we can't come up with jobs for them once they leave. I wonder if will export our best talent because, well, there isn't anything keeping them here.<br />
<br />
I wonder, also, if I missed the boat. If I am on my current path because it was safe. I ask myself if I could, like those in the article, pick up and move - not just to a new state, but a new country. And I am freaking Chinese. Granted, I can't speak, can't read, and my cultural markers make me whiter than most, but still. It seems like, of anyone, I would be in a prime position to catch the wave of the next frontier. <br />
<br />
Granted, it's not as though all my problems would be solved by a trip overseas. I am sure one set of problems would be traded for another. But life is dealing with problems; it just that, some problems you enjoy solving. I am still trying to figure out if the problems I have now are better than those I could have somewhere else.the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-57545301368711206072012-03-10T17:39:00.001-05:002012-03-10T17:39:33.182-05:00Making the Rounds<a href="http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/03/02/why-dont-we-read-about-architecture/?ref=design">This </a>has been making the rounds amongst architects and their blogs....Something to think about.the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-17145561306659836932012-03-08T22:39:00.002-05:002012-03-10T17:39:52.724-05:00You are what you...teach?I have to admit this: sometimes I can't believe I teach. Particularly about Architecture. After all, if you scan this blog, it is a rare moment for me to speak about the virtues of the profession. Mostly, my stories are filled with the disappointment, the frustration, the harsh realities that our profession has somehow kept secret.<br />
<br />
When I started this blog, I thought I could, through my experiences, shed some light upon certain misconceptions. I thought, perhaps, this blog could help others understand what the education asks, the profession asks, of those who enter. Basically, I hoped I could enlighten people of the things I wish I would have been informed of years ago.<br />
<br />
But, as the years passed, I found myself on detours that took me farther away from where I thought I should be. My blog reflected this; looking back on my entries, I now realize that the questions concerning me weren't about what type of professional I might be, but whether or not I should be a part of this profession. And then, I just fell off the face of the earth.<br />
<br />
Perhaps, from this short history, you can understand why I find myself rather dumbfounded concerning my current circumstances. I find myself in front of students, encouraging them, challenging them, to imagine the possibilities of not only their work, but their future lives as architecture professionals. And while I am forthright about my own experiences, I never discourage these fresh faces from pursuing their dreams. I find myself, surprisingly, an enabler. <br />
<br />
I am both Jekyll and Hyde. I can be incensed about our continually changing certification requirements one second, excited about detailing a stair railing the next. I ponder whether or not I have the stamina to continue on in the profession, but undoubtedly have an opinion on any design you ask me about. I am a dissenter and an advocate.<br />
<br />
But, as Jekyll was forced to wonder, which is my true self? Am I one who will, five years from now, be set upon some other task, some other work, which finds me looking at Architecture from afar? Or will I be, as I am now, hard at work, hoping to make something someone will love. Am I the person I see in this blog, or the person I hear speaking to my students? Right now, both seem equally likely. I wonder which will win out.<br />
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<br />the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-58016898673626765672012-02-05T11:48:00.002-05:002012-02-05T11:48:37.159-05:00So you want to be an architect?You may want to read <a href="http://www.salon.com/2012/02/04/the_architecture_meltdown/singleton/#comments">this</a>. Or maybe <a href="http://economix.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/01/05/want-a-job-go-to-college-and-dont-major-in-architecture/">this</a>.<br />
<br />
Just mull it over for a second or two.the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-67314874727548651072011-12-14T22:05:00.001-05:002011-12-14T22:05:23.973-05:00An Architect's life?Something to think about over at <a href="http://www.archdaily.com/192349/are-architects-depressed-unhealthy-and-divorced/">Archdaily....</a><span id="goog_193655625"></span><span id="goog_193655626"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a><br />
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<br />the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-76016139749905043802011-11-14T12:32:00.001-05:002011-11-14T13:01:44.924-05:00OverratedI hate to say it, but sometimes -well, really, many times - I have agreed with <a href="http://finance.yahoo.com/blogs/power-your-future/12-most-overrated-jobs-221553598.html">this</a>. Particularly in the past three years or so, as I've existed on the fringes of the professional world. So far, I've eeked by, freelancing, working for a firm on and off, and <a href="http://archi-hell.blogspot.com/2011/03/make-it-work.html">renovating</a>. I've supplemented this all with some <a href="http://archi-hell.blogspot.com/2010/09/full-circle.html">teaching</a>, which at times fuels my idealistic dreams, and at other times, makes me want to warn anyone wishing to follow through that this life, this profession, isn't all it's cracked up to be. <br />
<br />
I want to believe that what architects do has value; even on something small, like renovating a house, I believe that we, as architects, can provide insights into space planning and organization that can make something old new again. That is in large part why I tackled the renovation I did. I wanted to show people how a 1950s home could, with thought, have a floor plan that could meet with today's lifestyle. The hope was that, after the blood, sweat and tears, when the house was done, people would come through, appreciate the work, and, well, fall in love.<br />
<br />
So far, there has been some love, but not enough. Well, enough for a sale, which is ultimately what I need to move onwards and upwards, as they say. I took a gamble, hoping that people might appreciate attention to detail, unique features and finding a home that meets today's standards within an establish, well-sought after neighborhood. The complaints have left me discouraged. For all the talk of "right-sizing", the negative comments have mostly dealt with a small master bedroom. Granted, it isn't some grand palace like you see on Cribs, with separate sitting areas and room for a trapeze, but the suite we created has a large walk-in closet, room for a queen bed, night stands and a credenza, and a master bath with dual vanities, separate shower and tub and its own toilet room. I mean, couldn't you live with this:<br />
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<br />
So, despite my hopes, I find an unreceptive audience. And it makes me wonder, as I still see developer homes selling, and the good old McMansions filling the pictures of local home magazines and TV shows. Do Architects provide value? I hope so. Do people value what Architects do? I am not so sure.<br />
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<br />the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-81890490773769062882011-10-12T21:43:00.002-04:002011-10-12T21:59:54.296-04:00Bureaucracy, perhaps?<a href="http://www.good.is/post/why-architecture-s-identity-problem-should-matter-to-the-rest-of-us/">This article</a>, just posted over at <a href="http://www.good.is/">Good Design</a> posits an interesting question: what is keeping so many "architects" out of architecture. I have to say, more and more, I feel apart of those who may be potentially "lost". While I have busted my but for years now, I am still quite far from being able to call myself an "architect". I have seen projects from design to construction, managed contractors, consultants, clients, detailed numerous drawings, slaved over permit sets and redlines. But, without my IDP complete, and my exams finished, the most I can ever consider myself is a designer.<br />
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I am working hard to get there. But, sometimes, things get in the way. My job gets in my way. Where as Lawyers take months off to study for the Bar, Doctors have residencies that support their studies for the Boards, we are supposed to work full time, studying whenever possible for our professional exams. And, I'll admit, it's been hard to squeeze it in. Especially when 18 hour days became my norm.<br />
<br />
I like that someone is asking about the structure of our profession; we need to take a hard look at the status quo. Hopefully people will start to listen. If you don't click the link, you can read the article, by John Cary, below:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Perhaps it was the Legos, or watching Mike Brady belly up to his drafting board on <a href="http://www.good.is/post/why-architecture-s-identity-problem-should-matter-to-the-rest-of-us/#" id="_GPLITA_0" style="border-bottom: 3px double; color: green; text-decoration: none;">TV</a>.
In recent months and years, the likes of President Obama, Brad Pitt,
Lenny Kravitz, and numerous other public figures have divulged a love of
architecture, going so far as to say they once—or still—wanted to be
architects. They, like so many of us, have a romantic view of the
architecture world.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
It makes sense when you stop to think about
it: there are few more creative, more transformative, more direct ways
to literally make the world a better place. Almost nothing influences
the quality of our lives more than the design of our homes, our schools,
our workplaces, and our public spaces.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Architecture can enliven
and inspire. Three decades ago this year, at the tender age of 21, Maya
Lin, then a Yale student, captivated the nation with her minimalist
design for the Vietnam Memorial. Her subsequent work has <a href="http://www.good.is/post/why-architecture-s-identity-problem-should-matter-to-the-rest-of-us/#" id="_GPLITA_2" style="border-bottom: 3px double; color: green; text-decoration: none;">won</a> acclaim the world over.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
We need more architects like Maya Lin to lift us up. But there’s a
problem: Lin is not considered an architect by the architecture
profession itself. You’d think those within her chosen field would at
least embrace Lin as an architect—if not as a luminary, an innovator, or
even a genius. Instead, the architecture establishment does something
astounding, demeaning, and perplexing: they relegate her to the title of
“intern” because she focused on making architecture, rather rites of
passage.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Earning a diploma from architecture school isn't enough
to be awarded the title of "architect." Graduates must also complete a
multi-year internship and pass a costly seven-part exam, <a href="http://www.good.is/post/why-architecture-s-identity-problem-should-matter-to-the-rest-of-us/#" id="_GPLITA_3" style="border-bottom: 3px double; color: green; text-decoration: none;">steps</a>
Lin skipped because she was spending her time designing. It’s a long,
arduous road that many in the field are either unable or simply
unwilling to travel. Shaun Donovan, the U.S. Secretary of Housing &
Urban Development, who earned his architecture degree from the Harvard
Graduate School of Design, isn’t an architect, nor TED Prize winner and
showman Cameron Sinclair of Architecture for Humanity. Architecture
school deans, firm owners, and countless others aren’t “real” architects
either. These people are doing amazing, world-changing work, exactly
what we want and need more architects to be doing.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
In fact, more
than half of architecture school graduates don’t enter the profession.
Fewer still get licensed, which means that the majority of the best and
brightest are held in professional limbo or exit the profession
entirely. This has been the status quo for decades, and it’s time for a
change. We, the public, need architecture and dignifying spaces now more
than ever. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Lest you think this title stuff is just semantics,
think again. The profession and the public are measurably worse off
because of this issue. While diversity in architecture schools is
comparable to law and other fields, architecture remains one of the most
elite and homogenous professions, clinging to institutional barriers
that have thwarted gender parity and diversity efforts. Massive
resources are spent on bureaucracy instead of nurturing a more
representative profession to serve our diverse society, and supporting
architects to create better, more vibrant public spaces.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Rather
than spending their energy protecting their territory and titles, what
if architects and their associations focused on resolving our nation’s
housing crisis, improving our schools, or generally creating more
inspiring environments for people to live their best lives? With
buildings now accounting for almost half of greenhouse gas emissions, we
need an army of architects to go back to drawing board and create more
environmentally-friendly buildings, rather than an aging few tending to
the drawbridge.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
I’m not arguing against professional standards,
especially not for a profession charged with making sure buildings don’t
fall down. Clearly, there must be ways to demonstrate one’s
qualifications in architecture or any other field, and an exam is widely
regarded as the most reliable way to do so.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
The difference is
that medical school graduates are universally recognized among their
peers and by the public as doctors even before their residencies and
subsequent board exams. Graduates of law schools are considered lawyers
even before passing the bar. But graduates of architecture school, who
have at least five to seven years of schooling, are recognized with the
lowly title of “intern.” They are forced into under-compensated
internships as well as warned, policed, and even fined by architect-led
state licensing boards for infringing on the word “architect” in any
way. Is there any wonder why architecture graduates are defecting in
droves?<br />
</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote>
These inequities, when combined with the economic
downturn, are pushing greater numbers of graduates out of architecture,
and the profession is weaker for it. More importantly, the public is
also losing out, as the creative skills of architecture graduates are
channeled into an overly bureaucratic process, rather than into solving
very real societal challenges.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
For years, even the leaders of the
high and mighty American Institute of Architects have recommended
reforming and broadening the rules of becoming an architect—starting
with what we call graduates. Yet year in and year out, nothing changes
due to institutional resistance, protectionism, and self-preservation.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
It is high time that architecture focus less on enforcement of titles
and fortifying its barriers to entry, and more on creating an inclusive
profession truly dedicated to the health, the safety, and the welfare of
the public.</blockquote>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-54065077725087326162011-09-11T09:46:00.003-04:002012-09-11T11:01:25.718-04:009-11 Ten Years Later<blockquote>
</blockquote>
It seems surreal. 10 Years ago, today, the world changed as we know it. How we live changed, irreversibly. 10 years later, I, like everyone, can remember that morning with such finite detail. In honor of the memories of those who gave everything, I thought I'd bring back the entry I wrote 5 years ago, today.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<br />
<h2 class="date-header">
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Monday, September 11, 2006</span></h2>
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=18658545" name="115800284790940815"></a> <br />
<h3 class="post-title">
The Power of a Symbol </h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Five years ago, today, I sat in class, structures class if I remember correctly, trying to stay awake. After all, it was an 8:30 lecture. The moment class ended, a student stood up and said, simply, “The World Trade Center was just attacked.” It was 9:25 am.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The student walked out without saying another word, and for a moment, I thought it was some weird practical joke. I would find out, five minutes later, eyes riveted to a television set in the department office, that it was not. It’s been said over and over again, the world changed that day. It’s not an exaggeration.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched, on television, as the World Trade Center crumbled down, floor by floor, until it was lost in the cloud of its own dust. I remember our academic advisor bursting out into tears, as we stared on in disbelief. I remember walking home, after school officially closed, thinking, how could the weather be so perfect, the day so unbelievably beautiful, when, elsewhere, chaos was erupting. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we would learn, the targets were specific. The buildings were chosen for the special meanings they embodied. They were symbols, markers. It was meant to be as significant a psychological blow as it was a physical catastrophe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we look on, five years later, so much has yet to be done. The wound is still open, the healing not really begun. In the wake of 9/11, a call went out, a challenge made, one which some considered <i>the </i>opportunity for architects to reassert the value of their work. Rebuild on suddenly sacred ground, and create something that respected the past while inspiring the future. It was a wish for remembrance. It was a cry for defiance. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I fear for the success. I feel deflated by the solution. And perhaps, more than anything else, I am disappointed by the process. Politics, egos, personal interests – they dominate the rebuilding process. They are the stories to arise from the rubble of that day. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Three years ago, during a scholarship interview, I was asked the question on everyone’s mind, “What do you think should be done at the World Trade Center site?” A loaded question. I faced four strangers who looked on expectantly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I told them that what I hoped for. I hoped for a place that would remember the significance of the event while engendering new life, new activity, a new spirit. I hoped that, in the process of reconstruction, disparate parties might unite under a common goal, a vision that could encapsulate the hopes, memories, desires of the expectant millions watching. I told them that the challenge, above anything else, would be reconciling the desires of those who saw the site as a massive graveyard and those who saw the site as an opportunity for massive redevelopment. I told them that any solution would have to successfully address both. That life and death, happiness and sadness, would need to exist, side by side. I told them that I believed architecture had the power to reach such greatness. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I still believe in that greatness. I still believe that architecture can take on such weight, such responsibility. It is the power of a symbol – this ability for concrete objects to illicit abstract emotions. I just don’t know, given the process so far, if the results will ever meet the heavy expectations. Some might say nothing would. And perhaps they are right. But, perhaps, if the process hadn’t been derailed the way it has, there might have been a better chance for success. </div>
</blockquote>
the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-56352849511870120352011-08-26T21:55:00.008-04:002011-08-30T22:11:15.057-04:00Miss Me?<div>I fell off the face of the earth. A black hole that seemingly took every last speck of the light that made up my days. Renovating this house has been a herculean task. Up at sunrise, working until dusk. All in the vain hope of completing this craziness.
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<br />Add to it teaching. Rewarding, yes. And an additional time suck. Nights preparing assignments and slideshows. Desk crits and reviews that interrupt the work day. Suddenly torn between two jobs, two lives, unsure if I have been able to dedicated myself to each with true conviction. That's what's been on my mind.
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<br />I am actually living the dream. One foot in academia, one foot in practice. On a good day, I tell myself, this is what I want. I like going back and forth. I like working on site and in the classroom.
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<br />But on rough day days, which seem to be a majority of them lately, I wonder if one might have to give for the other. If I commit to something, I give everything I have. But when you have two things vying for that attention, can you do each justice? Or does something give? I worry that, if I find out the answer to this, it may be because of an incident that I am unable to recover from.
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<br />I know, I come back after months with something depressing. Not necessarily how I'd like to do things, but its all I got right now. I only hope that, on the horizon, is a light that provides new inspiration.</div>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-8870196847092745452011-04-15T17:01:00.002-04:002011-04-15T17:03:09.478-04:00Inspiration<iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/C9jghLeYufQ" allowfullscreen="" width="320" frameborder="0" height="240"></iframe>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-62852604619044539372011-04-02T00:21:00.002-04:002011-04-02T00:23:53.981-04:00InspirationKinda love this.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="320" height="240" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/C_CDLBTJD4M" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-30129040157236239442011-03-30T23:48:00.003-04:002011-03-30T23:50:54.586-04:00Education I support<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JlP-ySQAVFoSCI2Ta5QcDyNEehnrxss03UmCx2l8_RppluTI2q9adbtJIo5uYsvKn4violdMnqf5iI13X5-IPEFO44eqi_t7pyys6CAFS3_M1lbECSNXqiX9_hEvNNafCsuw-w/s1600/31kids-span-articleLarge.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 196px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JlP-ySQAVFoSCI2Ta5QcDyNEehnrxss03UmCx2l8_RppluTI2q9adbtJIo5uYsvKn4violdMnqf5iI13X5-IPEFO44eqi_t7pyys6CAFS3_M1lbECSNXqiX9_hEvNNafCsuw-w/s320/31kids-span-articleLarge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590086147770362786" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">image by Drew Kelly via NYtimes</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Given my own experiences, you can imagine that <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/31/garden/31kids.html">this</a> is something I'd totally want in schools.<br /></div></div>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-77074545756141474552011-03-27T17:11:00.008-04:002011-03-28T22:56:34.965-04:00Make it work.During my third year of architecture school, we took several field trips to learn about materials and construction; a pre-cast concrete company, a masonry manufacturer, a steel mill, and carpentry school. We were to learn about the way things go together, get our hands dirty if at all possible. And while laying bricks are still a mystery to me, carpentry school was something of a revelation.<br /><br />It was a 6 am bus ride, 45 minutes from school to, if you could believe it, and island in the middle of the Ohio river. And, in a giant warehouse, we learned to frame. Basic skills first - hammer a nail, without hitting your hand, saw a 2x4 without an electrical assistant, identify a jack vs. king stud. The several guys brought in to show us the ropes were admirably patient, given our range of aptitude. There were those who had been building sheds with their fathers as kids. And there were those that were not quite sure how hard you really needed to swing a hammer.<br /><br />I was somewhere in between; I had begrudgingly followed my dad as he did minor repairs to some rental homes, mostly resenting the time it took me away from Saturday morning cartoons. I'd gotten dirty and pretty much hated it. But I knew my basic tools, and, surprising to most of my classmates, could lift heavy objects with more ease than they expected. So, sure, I was out of place; my grungiest clothes were a pair of Abercombie jeans and an Abercrombie jersey shirt. And sure, my friends had a good hearty laugh at my expense - at seeing me getting dirty and dusty. But, as we moved from basic skills towards our task of the day - in groups, frame up 4 walls, with a window or door in each and a basic vaulted roof - I found myself lost in the constant motion, activity and noise.<br /><br />Maybe it was the material - wood, which I seemed to <a href="http://archi-hell.blogspot.com/2006/01/hes-maniac.html">have an affinity for</a>. Maybe it was the process - that, as a group, we were doing something together, rather than competing with one another. Maybe I just liked the idea that, despite what people thought of me, I could actually do this. Whatever, it was, I knew I liked it. I could see it - someday, I'd take time off from my amazingly successful practice to build myself a home. Be apart of it, day in and day out, so I could do it they way I wanted.<br /><br />Fast forward to today. For the past three weeks I've dug in on a renovation. It's design-build, and I am putting in a lot of sweat equity. I figured, if work ain't coming to me, I'm gonna make it for myself. Given the course of my professional life, it should be no surprise that this has now come before a successful practice. But, well, we can only take the cards we get and play the best hand we can. I'll make it work.<br /><br />So, after some finagling, and with the help of many, I now sit at the point of no return, with permits pulled, walls demolished, and large areas of concrete cut. In two weeks, we cleared two 30-yard dumpsters, and for everyday of those two weeks, I've been sore. What can I say? When I renovate, I go all the way.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqlftkWUgUkrU5wseyw_Ty9HWKD-xJkNcKtxO0IOm1qI6eGob2e_61sPlHGz1CnjMmhp6vqUCq8IMlUIi2VQuxYDiYPvZbiGDARdsMAmL9gMQyJPmzWrk5Qx3V7qBUXj15npH0Q/s1600/MISC+499.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSqlftkWUgUkrU5wseyw_Ty9HWKD-xJkNcKtxO0IOm1qI6eGob2e_61sPlHGz1CnjMmhp6vqUCq8IMlUIi2VQuxYDiYPvZbiGDARdsMAmL9gMQyJPmzWrk5Qx3V7qBUXj15npH0Q/s320/MISC+499.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589327686359319858" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDa1lMMSXDvKM5uvb9hQTuu3FpP7BsiiZVJOTmTUM8tgaDDOelyMmRO33edb8hY2m8cKxB23FGNtJ1qTgeadFiOVsEeftwUiIpJgXZMCveOA2rE6J6DR9ufGPw1wMHozqQVExEw/s1600/MISC+474.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDa1lMMSXDvKM5uvb9hQTuu3FpP7BsiiZVJOTmTUM8tgaDDOelyMmRO33edb8hY2m8cKxB23FGNtJ1qTgeadFiOVsEeftwUiIpJgXZMCveOA2rE6J6DR9ufGPw1wMHozqQVExEw/s320/MISC+474.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589327680641019010" border="0" /></a>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-91061068077619781252011-02-20T22:38:00.001-05:002011-02-21T14:16:20.764-05:00One track mindHi there. It's been a long time (long time). How have you been?<br /><br />I feel like I need to re-introduce myself, seeing as I've gone MIA. Remember me? I used to post regularly, occasionally making an, I'd like to hope, insightful observation. I may have even been funny from time to time. But, for quite a while, it seems, I've lost my mojo. Maybe that's life. At least, it seems, that has been mine.<br /><br />My life, however, is beside the point. At least for today. I'm trying to get my groove back, you might say, and finally get down something that has been nagging me for a while.<br /><br />As I mentioned<a href="http://archi-hell.blogspot.com/2010/09/full-circle.html"> here</a>, I had the opportunity to find myself back in Studio. Observing the dramatic change in process, particularly the design tools being used, from my collegiate days was...shocking? Unnerving? Inspiring? I'm not sure, exactly. Conflicted. Yeah...maybe that's it.<br /><br />As the studio progressed, thoughts about this evolution in education stayed at the back of my mind. It gnawed at me more after I read <a href="http://www.architectmagazine.com/bim/bim-well-with-others.aspx">this</a>, which, while interesting, failed to explore what I thought was the most provocative statement of the entire interview:<strong></strong><strong><br /><br /></strong><blockquote><strong>Prince-Ramus:</strong> It’s an architectural education issue. It’s not that I’m not hiring architects. But as someone who teaches and has a practice and has real projects, I see the skill set of people with architectural education as increasingly irrelevant, if not detrimental.</blockquote><br />I've tried to understand this statement, reflecting on my students and my approach towards the studio. But I am still not sure what is Mr. Prince-Ramus's ultimate point. Given the context, where his comment follows a contractor who has mentioned hiring more architects for his company, I first took it to mean that architects skills have now made them increasingly production oriented. Thus, rather than leading, we have a generation adept at executing.<br /><br />When I first began teaching, what struck me most was the time students now spend on a computer. Unless asked to specifically produced something by hand, everything I saw was on a screen, or a printout of something digital. It was jarring, not only because I had been a model guy, but because I found it very difficult to have discussions with the students about their process.<br /><br />If anything, iterative design was the one thing drilled into me during my own studies. Try one version, then another, compare, contrast, and repeat. But, crucial to all of this, was that you could view versions simultaneously, which allowed you to make decisions based upon the relative strengths and weaknesses that you observed in the comparison.<br /><br />While the students may have been doing this, it was unclear, as I spoke with them, if it was really happening. I would often have them go back to materials they showed during previous sessions, asking them for sketches or printout that seemed to be already tucked away - out of sight and out of mind. For many of the students, the design process seemed so linear - decisions made considering only direct cause and effect. Address one problem, then move on. Checklist done.<br /><br />If this is what Mr. Prince-Ramus is referring to in his comments, then I heartily agree. The technological tools my students relied upon seemed to have fostered a certain simplistic attitude towards their design process. If it works on screen, it looks okay in the model, it's fine. Move on. Move down the list of things to address, and once the list is done, the project is good to go. Forget about considering the implications of decisions to things previously decided, or potential pitfalls down the line. At that moment, the decision made sense, and so the decision is made.<br /><br />But, I have to say, I can't be sure if that is really Mr. Prince-Ramus's take. He has made a certain distinction between what architects are now learning and what he thinks they should be. He condemns this new architectural model that technology, like BIM, has seemed to usher, as well as what traditional model that others often deride architects for having - the "someone will make it work" attitude that many think architects have when designing. So I guess I'd like to know, what is the right way to educate future architects? Because, from where I now stand, it seems like we better figure it out soon.the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-24810167743653621712011-02-16T13:29:00.003-05:002011-02-21T14:16:46.404-05:00You can always dream...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqf0by29XaEyUTOekcaRWiF3qEB8b1OmLZ88d9F0T-BD9kMoQaMrHk-lKxVVefASJCOPSINJeAm7pCQe-orChphTm98icaGHJtDP-ZJvm-R9HkY2TatvKrdCRbk1BeJZWusOlJdA/s1600/41o75KrcCwL._SL380_.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqf0by29XaEyUTOekcaRWiF3qEB8b1OmLZ88d9F0T-BD9kMoQaMrHk-lKxVVefASJCOPSINJeAm7pCQe-orChphTm98icaGHJtDP-ZJvm-R9HkY2TatvKrdCRbk1BeJZWusOlJdA/s320/41o75KrcCwL._SL380_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574356516447569874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Yes...<a href="http://www.target.com/Mattel-Barbie-Can-Be-Architect/dp/B0043WAP56">you too can be an architect</a>. Isn't it inspiring?the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658545.post-1194401715163933662011-01-04T16:54:00.005-05:002011-01-04T17:04:07.344-05:00Hidden Treasure<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEct_Z27T2x71iLL4WGfxo_wBeqoKlbcRVDz6wckIJ0Y5oix1nf5KiZSkP4Z-ajKYmTPIK1PkjbCI4QmUhDhTVw4bmjoN9KDsl-wB4JvX6-18q-gGLF_ktYDJpOqsCy9atOG7Rw/s1600/7beekman1110.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEct_Z27T2x71iLL4WGfxo_wBeqoKlbcRVDz6wckIJ0Y5oix1nf5KiZSkP4Z-ajKYmTPIK1PkjbCI4QmUhDhTVw4bmjoN9KDsl-wB4JvX6-18q-gGLF_ktYDJpOqsCy9atOG7Rw/s320/7beekman1110.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558453428362103042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Courtesy of Sam Horine via <a href="http://gothamist.com">Gothamist</a></span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I love that, amongst all the building and rebuilding that goes on in Manhattan, a<a href="http://gothamist.com/2011/01/03/inside_5_beekman.php"> treasure like this </a>exists. Hopefully whoever owns it does it justice.<br /></div>the silent observerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12767954560063282271noreply@blogger.com0