What is a Great Architect?

While at GHOST, I filled pages upon pages with notes, with sketches and scribbles.

Much of what I wrote centered about beautiful details, admirable intentions, great materiality… I was so impressed with skill, talent, insight, and approach. I began grappling with the question of what I could learn from these great buildings and these great architects. With how I could be part of the development of a body of work which was that compelling. How can I grow as an architect, and consistently have that joy of actually contributing to something?

In thinking about how to become a great architect, I realized I’d never fully taken on the task of articulating what it means to be great. So, what is a great architect? And I don’t mean to talk just about people whose buildings are renowned. I mean talented designers, whose work gets built, whose work is livable and lovable, and whose work lasts.

A great architect is someone who gets it. Someone who is capable of synergy. Because great architecture is about that incredible moment when everything comes together. It is the material, spatial, structural, and emotional construct which becomes the great space, that the architect has to be able to conceive of.

A great architect is detail oriented – because, the devil is in the details, and because the way that your hand slides down the rail of the stair really is integral to whether or not the building’s great, and so is whether or not it keeps out water, for 20 or 50 or 100 years.

A great architect strives for balance between being creative and pragmatic. Because we don’t need to reinvent the wheel, when what has been done actually works. And because we need to understand, always, that what has been done is not the only option. A great architect sees the potential that others cannot. A great architect’s solutions are different, not just for the sake of difference, but for the joy of novelty and for the incredible appropriateness of the response to the need.

A great architect is incredibly curious. And not only curious, but a life-long learner, someone who seeks knowledge. They know enough about the material the client desires to understand right from the parti sketch, what is possible, probable, desirable, and how far the limits can be pushed. The great architect knows how to incorporate the realities their construction will encounter into their conception, their creative notion of what should be. Without being limited by what has been done before, mind you, the great architect conceives of things which are doable, efficient, logical, constructable, desirable, things that will work better. A great architect is well-read, well-spoken, they know about the impact of color and shape and form, they are a little bit of a psychologist, a sociologist, an anthropologist.

A great architect is attuned and open. They listen to everyone they meet, they soak up the site, they ask questions of the client, they study the masters whose solutions have worked before.

A great architect is, perhaps counterintuitively, highly intentional. They have a mission to achieve, and they pursue it even to the point of being ruthless. Their mission may be for sustainability, afforadability, for art or reflection or the creation of heirlooms. In thinking about this, I’ve realized that it doesn’t even matter what they are passionate about. That only affects who, specifically, will find their work compelling in the end. But to produce great architecture, we have a mission that is embedded in everything we do.

A great architect is highly consistent. The strongest work I have seen in my life’s admiration of architecture has been highly consistent – literally a body of work, a developing theme, a consistent aim. This seems to be a character distinguishing between architects who are great and architects who have done a great building.

A great architect is [what IS the term for a lover of beauty??]. They have an eye for detail, an appreciation for and expectation of beauty. They know about the golden rule, the modulor, about harmonic colors, peaceful rhythms, about prospect and refuge. They are a connoisseur – it does not matter of what, but that their spaces remind us to savor.

A great architect is a great communicator. Because all great architecture is the work of a team, and the architect must be able to convey to everyone what they seek, so thoroughly that they get what they want – or something even better.

A great architect is inspiring – they remind us that THIS is the way things should be. Their work can lift us up because they have such great expectations of the human race, and of individuals.

A great architect is an artist. They can draw, or paint, or write poetry… they can do something which is about that elusive act of creating something from nothing, from everything. About exploring oneself and the world and coming away with meaning, catharsis, value, beauty.

A great architect is not interested in needless complexity, but in simplicity and elegance, in having the least number of moving parts to get the job done. They understand that while novelty has its place, the floor plan must actually work, the flow of traffic must actually be smooth…

The list could go on forever. A great architect has compassion, imagination, sympathy. They are collaborators who can compromise, they are humble. They are self-aware, self-confident and self-critical. They are a study in balancing contradictions. A great architect is just another passionate, hardworking, human being.

Unfortunately, my internet search for ‘consensus’ on what makes an architect great turned up little of value. The ‘greats’ themselves don’t have much to say on it. Sir Norman Foster didn’t include the term ‘great,’ but he did say “you have to be an optimist… you have to be a realist, but you have to be an optimist.” Frank Lloyd Wright thought that it took a “cultivated, enriched heart.”

A great architect is not an expert in all things, but in bringing them all together.

In the end the definition is very personal, because I really don’t mean – or at least, not just – who are the architects getting published today or remembered decades and centuries later. I mean, how can I become skilled at contributing to a comprehensive, complete, elegant structure that moves its inhabitants towards joy and reflection without their even noticing that it significantly improves their lives? How can I become skilled at synergizing my original intention – beauty – with their original demand – shelter – and the hundreds of other factors, such as sustainability, structure, budget, satisfying geometries, code, geographies, technologies, cultural constructs, material limits…

I think for me, the great architects are those whose built projects work and are compelling.

What is the point, in the end? Why does it matter what makes a great architect? Because if I can continue striving towards being a great architect, then perhaps I can make great architecture.

GHOST 13

While in Nova Scotia, I felt that I was in the company of great architects. Many more great architects than I had ever been exposed to in person before. They were great speakers, writers, drawers, they crafted compelling narratives about their work and about their role in catalyzing an architectural team and a client to do something beautiful, meaningful, great.

In trying and failing to write about ghost in a comprehensible way, I very courageously ‘gave myself the summer off.’ While this consisted of not doing much from my to-do list, it also consisted of reflecting on ways to make that to-do list a mile and a half longer!

Distance has helped, but so has the pressure cooker of waiting. Part of why I couldn’t write about GHOST is that I was simply overwhelmed. I couldn’t articulate anything because I had been blown away by how much there was to soak up, and I was saturated. It’s a relief to remember that most of what was presented, and discussed at the dinner table by the rest of us, was a life’s work.

I hoped that by letting it cook, I would be able to convey all the WISDOM. And JOY. And FERVOR, that I was surrounded by at ghost. That I can strive for every day. My questions at the time swirled around what to do with all these convictions?

The speakers brought up a few times a notion they’d been grappling with while planning GHOST – which was to come away with a manifesto of sorts. Perhaps the theme, the desire, the key tenet was, this grappling with how to DO GREAT WORK. How to engage the site, how to engage yourself, materiality, culture. How to create beautiful, compelling spaces, which actually make the world a better place.

Ideas in Things

This past June, I attended the architectural symposium hosted by Brian Mackay-Lyons at his farm in Nova Scotia, entitled GHOST 13: Ideas in Things. Each time I’ve tried to write about it or do something with it, or even tell someone what it was like, I’ve struggled and writhed and decided to take a break.

A major factor in my attendance at GHOST was actually Rick Hauser, partner at In. Site: Architecture, where I’ve enjoyed working for the past nearly 3 years. Here are some great posts on other people’s blogs and articles, shared by Rick, that aim to give a taste:Architectural Record, Ned Forrest Architects and

Design Build Bluff.

A new friend from the conference who returned home to Scotland even mentioned it – “The experience has been pretty much impossible to describe to anyone back here and do it justice!”

Ghost was a study in optimism, and a gathering of like-minded souls pursuing great architecture through a few very specific lenses: Craft, Place, Community. We all flew to Halifax, bounced through the beautiful country-side to Lunenberg and stayed in picturesque B & B's so typical of this harbor town. The next morning, we bounced through the country-side further, to the coast, to Brian’s family farm. We were greeted by mud and rain and farm animals and incredibly beautiful structures floating through the epic landscape like ghosts.

We attended lectures that should have been typical – they were professors, designers, firm principals, sharing slides of built work and sketches and photographs of things their teams had labored over for years, things they had already written about and spoken about before. And we’d all been to architectural lectures throughout our education, and if we’re fortunate or determined, since we’ve been practicing. But something in the air was different. I was hard pressed to find the person who didn’t appear fully involved. Most of the stereotypical fiddling with iphones and sketchbooks was actually an ardent attempt to record every word, every image, every notion. Also, it wasn’t one lecture, one passionate speaker, but more than twenty over the course of days and nights of full-body immersion. We were immersed in the love for quality design and the positive impact it can have on lives, but also in the immeasurable, unspeakable ways that the planet and the people and the structures we try to build are all beautiful and valuable…
[this waxing eloquent and yet saying nothing is specifically why I’ve avoided writing for so long… at least I’ve spared you most of it!]

We were greeted by the giants, people who I never thought I’d do more than read about. And we not only heard Juhanni Pallasmaa and Kenneth Frampton and Glenn Murcutt speak. We spoke to them, after their lectures, in line for coffee and over sketches and questions at lunch. Patricia Patkau and Tom Kundig and Marlon Blackwell didn’t just show slides, they showed great architecture and the deep personal involvement required to participate in its creation.

In the end, I think all we were trying to do was to understand:

-          How to do work that matters,

-          And that we are not alone in doing so,

-          And that it is a lifelong pursuit,

-          But that there are ways to improve your approach, and almost… to perfect it.

-          That we all have taken up the mantle of commitment to ourselves, our clients, the planet, to create passionately and responsibly so that our buildings may be compassionate and compelling.

Well, apparently I'm now an 'official' blogger. With anyone I've followed, I notice that somewhere along the lines, life interferes with their ability to blog on the appointed day, week or month. They feel terribly guilty for not meeting the commitment and write a long post about why they weren't around... but they also wonder why no one noticed and can end up choosing not to keep up with the blog...

So, April and May have been a wonderful whirlwind, and if I really am going to do this for personal accountability, then I'm back!

I took the advice I received from the YAF webinar about getting involved very seriously, amping up on past projects and finding gobs of new ones. It's a pleasure to see that we have such an active regional community available.

In a single week, I:

- attended another 'CDA' team meeting: this committee meets at the Geneva Business Improvement District to offer perspective on signage proposals, from whether they meet code to how successfully they seem to be marketing the entity in question. I've been on this committee for a year now, but not taking as active a role as possible. Since then, I've stepped up to help develop a brochure for marketing - and explaining - the process to prospective businesses. An exciting opportunity to 'do it right by doing it myself' and help produce positive change in a vibrant community that I.S:A calls home!

-  sat on a panel with four other professionals, hosted by the Emerging Rochester Architects of the Rochester AIA. We had all taken the ARE's at one point or another and answered questions, as well as shared our point of view, with more than twenty folks. It was a pleasure to help people better understand the process, and I only wish this had been available when I was taking the exams concurrently!

- toured the new Vignelli Center at RIT. This was so intensely rewarding and inspiring that I still haven't completely processed it - or the extensive notes & sketches I scribbled feverishly. The Vignellis have really had a profound impact on design culture and they reminded me that design really can permeate everything.

- toured the Artisan Works gallery with my husband, Chris, at our first Rochester Young Professionals social. What interested me most was that it had such a turn out, and that even in the crowd, with no plans to meet anyone and only knowing a few folks in all of Rochester - we met up with people I've spent time with before. This encouraged me to give RYP a chance!

- attended a gallery opening at the Wyoming County Arts Council on fiber arts, specifically to see an incredible fiber sculpture that had been advertised. I enjoyed the energy in the room, and was reminded how productive I can be towards my own projects when exposed to the art of others.

After that intensive week, I also:

- saw a presentation on how to maximize your use of  linked-in,
- attended my first Toastmasters event and decided that I should join,
- went to my first Small Business Council networking event and had a great time despite not knowing anyone,
- joined a committee to start a new Toastmasters club and took the marketing position,
- attended an RYP presentation called 'leveraging the entrepreneurial spirit,'


and that excludes the birthday, graduation, and mothers' day celebrations, and efforts to move!

So needless to say, I'm maxxed out on getting involved and need to decide where I can find the most joy, have the most impact and develop my personal goals through the organization.


Next month I'll be attending GHOST, and couldn't be more excited. After that, I should be able to reflect on all the direct and indirect ways I can grow as an Architect and as a member of the community and keep moving forward!

Young Architect's Forum

The College of Fellows and the Young Architect's Forum recently started a quarterly webinar series. I 'attended' the first session, entitled "Getting Work" on March 17th.

I found the session to be... not at all what I expected. It was, however, very interesting and fulfilling. I look forward to 'attending' the remaining three in the series.

The premise of the series, that our development as professionals is equally as important as our development as designers and theorists, was very compelling. I have always held a deep interest in the workings of a profitable, successful firm. I got into architecture strictly because of my passion for it, but I never want to be so incapable of turning a profit that I have to make the platitude "well, I didn't get into architecture for the money" work.

At I.S:A, I'm fortunate to have a very strong advocate for my personal and professional growth. And of course, being in a small firm, you have much more access to the consequences of your daily actions.

I think the thing I took away most from this webinar was that I should pursue my extracurricular interests, such as Toastmasters, Literacy Volunteers and Rochester Young Professionals. I had been writing them down on my to-do list but never getting to them, because they weren't as 'architectural' as studying for the ARE's (all passed! saying that will never get old!) or the LEED exam. But the point that was made in this webinar is that they are not only indirectly architectural, it is their non-standardization that is valuable. You'll develop skills you wouldn't in a firm setting, and have access to non-architects. Who, while inspiring and eye-opening in their own right, might eventually become clients. The point was, these non-architectural extra-curriculars are win-win-win for the intern, their community, and their firm.

Now, I just have to get out there more!

a four day Lunch N Learn

Last week, I went on a four day tour with Marvin Windows. Ten of us met at the Rochester airport and headed to Minneapolis. We then drove over the border to Wisconsin, where we went on a tour of the Cardinal Glass Factory 

(click here for additional photos)

took a walking tour of Minneapolis architecture, 

(click here for additional photos)

and then headed up to Warroad Minnesota to spend a few days touring the Marvin Factory, 

(click here for additional photos)

learning more about their company and products. 

I really enjoyed meeting others from my profession, who live and work in the same region. This was very different from my usual AIA-type activities, where I do meet plenty of people, but they're largely already acquaintances, and they're almost entirely associates or very young professionals. On this trip, I had access to firm leaders and principals with 20+ years of experience, and the difference in perspective, conversational focus and project knowledge was exhilerating.

We had a local AIA volunteer take us on the Architectural Tour of Minneapolis, and that was just a really great time. I enjoyed the variety of architectural styles, scales, materials... we saw humble buildings and ones I'd studied in school or for the AREs. My friends and family definitely humor me when I'm turning our trip into an architectural adventure, but it was a whole different experience to be surrounded by others who took at least as much interest in the details, shadows and material terminations as I did.

Overall, the trip was surprisingly exhausting, but very fulfilling. I was able to reflect on the people I have access to and on personal goals about where to go in my career, all while being very generously hosted.

reading frenzy

February was the month of books. Or atleast, the month of stories.

I gobbled up everything I could get my hands on, from Jack Kerouac's On the Road and Peter Heller's Kook, and the Zappos book, Delivering Happiness; all read in book format, to an audio version of Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild and Woodshed Films' 180 degrees South.

Kerouac:
This is the kind of book I will need to read many more times, but for now I'll share something I wrote while reading: [We're all looking for a tool... something we can use to interpret the uninterpretable world, to imbue meaningless life with meaning. I've called it my lens onto the world, but it's also the means by which I interact with - and exist within - the world. Which is gratifying, because sometimes I worry that the reason I became an architect is that I am forever designing my own "dream house" - constructing the spaces in my head which would 'allow' for the narrative I'm trying to construct.]

Kook:
This was a beautifully written story, imbued with a sense of peacefulness, reflection or patience. Some of my favorite tidbits included: "There is nothing you can say about a surfboard that you cannot say about a sailboat, an airplane, a ski. The artistry follows the function and the beauty is in the marriage." and "...everything doubled itself, had two uses at least... what is so appealing about this kind of efficiency? I think people spaz out and buy RV's and yachts just because they see all the cabinetry, the ingenious tucking away of every day life, the whole thing fitting together like a puzzle, compact and hidden."

Delivering Happiness:
The most valuable thing I took away from this book was the notion of having an articulated set of 'core values.' I'm currently working to develop a list of my own core values.

I didn't notice the theme at first, but in retrospective, these were all stories of the epic journey. Namely, the epic journey and its role in an individual's development. It seems only men take epic journeys, but I can look into that more later. The Epic Journey is supposed to leave you forever changed for the better, more in tune with - aware of - yourself. You are supposed to realize your role in life or your place in the world, and come to peace with it.

As a designer, the questions are:
- Do Architectural Spaces play an integral role in anyone's epic journey? (Beyond the fact that we all must have shelter... )
- Can Architectural Spaces provide the opportunity for an internal reflection of similar quality?