Thirty two years after my grand tour of Europe I’m finding myself reading The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone for a second time. I read it between destinations and it proved to be a wonderful tome for touring Italy and experiencing masterpieces from the Renaissance. Reading it again I’m finding it an encouragement as an architect in my fifties. I totally missed the agony Michelangelo experienced. It’s not that I didn’t understand the frustration and struggle he went through to create his wonderful works, but in my early twenties I was in college and dating my future wife. I had nothing but hope before me. Before me was the ecstasy of being an architect—producing works of architecture that would move hearts. Now I understand viscerally the agony of this profession. Please don’t misunderstand me—this is a good career and very fulfilling, but now I understand the pain and frustration that goes along with it. Now as I read this historical novel I feel what Michelangelo must have felt when moving from rags to riches and back to rags. I understand what Michelangelo must have struggled with when he wrestled with taking a commission just to pay the bills. I know what Michelangelo must have been thinking when he had to deal with unreasonable clients. If you’ve been in the architecture profession for decades this is a good read. It will encourage you that you are not alone--even the greatest of artists struggled in their quest to create good works. It will encourage you to press on through the agony and the ecstasy of a completing your work will come in time.
Thankful for beautiful project sites
I am grateful for beautiful construction sites. One of the perks of my job is working on my client’s beautiful properties. Ranch properties, river front properties, and lake house properties are the starting point of some incredible design adventures. My clients love the land they have been blessed with and its an indescribable privilege to come alongside them to create a “picture frame” to experience the land their home sits on. I’m thankful to be able to work on these sites. It’s one thing to visit a beautiful place for a few hours, but as my client’s architect I have the double privilege of being able to return to the site several times. And with the M.U.D. (a.k.a. the Mobile Unit for Design) I’m able to work several consecutive days on these wonderful sites. I may never own one of these beautiful chunks of God’s creation, but designing homes to experience these lovely places is the next best thing.
Working in the M.U.D.
I thank God for the M.U.D. For years I dreamed of a mobile studio that would allow me work on site where our client’s project were to be built. The idea first arose when working as a Project Architect at Overland Partners. At the time they had several projects for the National Park Service. Overland was commissioned to design visitor centers and other buildings on beautiful, but extremely remote sites. Traveling to the project sites took days leaving only a short time to get to know the land. In addition, the trips were extremely costly and only allowed a few visits to the project site during the course of the design process. When I worked at Lake | Flato I observed the same problem on the many ranch houses they designed. When I came back to my own architecture practice I determined to make this dream a reality and in 2019 our firm purchased it’s first Mobile Unit for Design….a.k.a the M.U.D. It has turned out to be such a blessing. During COVID it was a remote studio and I located it in the woods like Henry David Thoreau’s cabin in Walden. I’ve parked it for a few days on project sites allowing me to experience my client’s properties from sunrise to sunset. The M.U.D. allows me to observe the path of the sun, the prevailing breezes, and consider the best views to frame with the house’s design. It has been a place of retreat like Le Corbusier’s Cabanon or Glen Murcutt’s remote studio. Every artist needs their studio to focus. Most recently it was the job trailer that allowed me to be on site as I managed the renovation of Lazarus House. It’s truly a dream come true.
WHY ARE YOU HERE ?
Why are you here at this school, working so hard, getting a chunk of paper that says you have earned…..what exactly? You have pulled all-nighters. You have made the deadline only to have the plotter fail to deliver by pin-up time. The colors looked great on the screen, but the print came out muddy. Model pieces kept failing. The curve you got right in Rhino didn’t come out correctly when you tried to make it in thin bass wood. You’ve cut your finger with a dull blade too many times to remember. Blood was shed. Your blood was shed and your heart split wide open. You’ve been humiliated in front of your peers. Professors have leaned back in those creaky chairs propping up their egos as they dressed you down. You thought to yourself, “what pompous assholes,” but that didn’t fill the empty spot that was carved in your soul.
You have doubts. You wonder what makes you special? What makes you different? What gives you significance? Come to think of it, why are any of us here? This is a scary thought. When you get this point and ask this question you find yourself in nothingness. Asking this question out loud in your mind you discover you can scream and it doesn’t matter. The words, whether whispered, spoken or shouted, just go out into the void with not so much as an echo. And here you stand, alone in this void—defiant or depressed it makes no matter.
It is here, out of this listless emptiness you find this nagging thought we are here to do something. There is a thought that is quieter than a whisper, yet inescapable in this emptiness. You are here to make a difference. You know—you…know—this is not how things should be. You know the world is messed up and it should be better. There is this nagging thought that won’t let go. Are we supposed to be so out of synch with nature? It’s like everything we do destroys the life around us. Our living brings their dying. To exist is to destroy. To build is to destroy.
But does it have to be this way? Is our existence only consuming or can we give back instead of taking all the time? Does our existence have to rob the earth of its resources? Does the exhaling of our lifestyle have to batter the fragile balance of this spinning globe we live on? Do we have to be at odds with everything and everyone? Peace seems so fragile, so illusive. Why don’t we give up? Why don’t we quit? We keep going because we think it is achievable. Peace with the earth. Peace with our neighbor. You haven’t lost hope and this is what drives you on.
A rebuttal comes from the emptiness. Is this just millions and millions of years of evolution lying to me? Is this thought, is this hope, is this motivating dream just a product of evolution? Is the nagging thought that we are better together, the thought that we stronger by being in synch with nature, we are stronger working with our neighbor just something lodged in my DNA? Perhaps. Perhaps there is no meaning beyond survival of the fittest. Perhaps these nagging questions, these thoughts, these urgings are nothing more than instinct formed by random chance over millions of years. Or, perhaps there is some deep meaning to all of this. You will never know in the way we are taught and told we can know.
It is at this point you have to make a choice. The simple fact is you are here, now, standing on the edge of emptiness, the edge of uncertainty, the void of not knowing. Be brave and face it. You are here….wherever and whatever “here” is. You are standing on something. You have your bearings, your wits about you. You can choose to let go, give up and fall into the abyss.
Or you can choose to continue. You can choose to continue bravely asking your questions. You can choose to do something with what you do know…or think you know. You can bravely share what you think you know and humbly yield when it’s clear you don’t. You can step forward into this darkness and fog. You can step forward with this one thought—I am here. I am here and my existence makes a difference. You can be brave and embrace the thought that not only does your existence make a difference, you are here to make a difference. You can be brave and step forward in the confidence that the world is messed up and somehow your existence at this time, in this place gives you the opportunity to make the world a better place.
Do this! Step boldly into your existence. Make your mark and make if for the better. Make your mark for the betterment of this world. You have chosen a vocation of optimism, of change, of hope. You are here to build something. Something that wasn’t here before. Something that improves this world. Build something that works with earth’s wonderfully fragile and rich eco systems. Build something that is just and fair in the way it is designed, funded, fabricated and operated. Build something that brings people together. Build something that celebrates the beauty of our incredible diversity: our colors, our cultures, our backgrounds, our foregrounds, our histories and our futures.
Wherever you find yourself—drawing details, checking change orders, correcting spelling, crafting an email, or designing the next masterpiece to be lauded by the press—work with all your heart and wisdom knowing this simple fact—you…are..here…NOW. You are here to make your mark, to contribute, to make the world better not worse. You are here so that your actions say, “See! This is how it can be better. This is how it should be.”
FOR ALL...It’s Why I’m Here
“For All” The words grabbed my attention as I flew by on my bike. I didn’t read them as much as they grabbed me. Their bluish neon pink caught the corner of my eye and the marquee sign of the Paramount caught the other. I wasn’t ready to start my homework but it worked—the garish glow scattered on both sides of Congress grabbed my attention and I had to stop. I pulled over to read once again fresh like the first time, “WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL.” Sans serif, eight foot tall, neon pinks and blues. “FOR ALL” That’s what it’s about right? That’s why we are here. This is why I’m here—stopping my bike—clicking pictures. I’m here because that’s what I want. I want liberty and justice for all. I want the same joy, equity, and full life for everyone. More specifically I want to share the beauty of architecture for all the wonderful people around me. This is why we are here right? In this class? In this school? That’s what we want. We want to share what we believe in. We want to share what brings us joy. This is why I’m here.