There is more than one way to skin a cat, they say. And there is more than one way to practice as an architect. That’s the message of this issue of arcCA, which shows the tremendous contribution to the civic realm made by architects who translate their abilities into public service.
In architecture school, students are often told that an architectural education prepares them for any career, and that it is a great education for a generalist as it teaches problem solving, analysis, and big-picture thinking. In reality, however, many graduates go on to become architects in the narrowest sense of the word, designing and detailing buildings, servicing clients, and often limiting their social circles and frame of reference to the architectural profession. As points out Shirl Buss, one of the subjects of this issue, “Most of us were attracted to the profession because we love design, we love imagining something new, and we love problem-solving and thinking about big ideas. Those ideals often get lost amidst the constraints of architecture and design practice.”
What follows in these pages are descriptions of the work and contribution of eight architects who have taken those skills and channeled them into public service. They are the so-called “citizen architects,” and they work with and for the betterment of the city. They are not necessarily seeking the glory of authorship of an object building but achieving their ends more quietly and anonymously. They do not necessarily use drawing instruments, but the instruments of negotiation and diplomacy. They work through political channels, through community workshops, through collective urban design, through educating children about the joy of problem solving, and through the development of more architecturally sensitive environments.
I feel particularly drawn to these stories, because their experience somewhat resonates with my own. I, too, traded a conventional architecture career to get involved in public debate. Having studied architecture and realized early on I did not have the right characteristics for the profession (attention to detail, patience, salesmanship), I became an editor on the Architectural Review, the British publication, which sent me to Los Angeles to edit a special issue on this city. I arrived, I fell in love with L.A., and four years later I moved here to edit LA Architect. At that time, in the early nineties, Los Angeles was recession-hit but relatively complacent; architects were concerned more with designing stylish baubles than grappling with the civic realm; the sun shone brightly, but most of us did not see the glaring social fissures. But barely had I arrived when the riots of April 1992 hit, snapping me and many others out of oblivion.
Over the next few months, architects and planners turned their attention to the city in its entirety. They held community-building seminars and workshops; they made plans to rebuild the inner city and to create better buildings on the sites of burnt-out, much-maligned mini-malls. It was an era o f tremendous soul-searching and desire to contribute, but, sadly, many of the grand plans landed on the shelf, and the city was largely rebuilt by developers and politicians. Having believed since childhood that architects built cities, I became disillusioned, feeling the profession was marginalized and out of touch with the dynamics that shape the built environment. I became gripped by a local radio program, Which Way, LA?, that started on KCRW-NPR radio in response to the riots. Its host, Warren Olney, conducted daily discussions with all the diverse players in the city about its problems and potential solutions. How ironic it was to me that the ephemeral realm of radio should have a more solid and relevant conversation about the city than I felt able to have within the confines of the architecture world. I eventually left my job as editor to became a volunteer and then paid producer on Warren’s show. Now, in a sweet turn of events, I will host a monthly program on KCRW on the topic of architecture; having left architecture to engage with the public, I now hope to engage the public with architecture.
This is a long digression that I hope illustrates how passionately many architects and I feel about the city, while feeling limited by the tools of building design. In the following pages you will read about citizen-architects who have transcended those limitations and engaged deeply with the political, economic, and community channels to accomplish great, often seemingly impossible achievements.
Take Martha Welborne, for instance, an architect with an enviable career in large architecture firms, who, prompted by a trip to Curitiba, Brazil, came up with the notion of a rapid transit system for L.A. Through sheer force of personality and political skill, she managed to persuade key decision-makers of the wisdom of the system. Now L.A., the city least associated with sensible public transit planning, has such a system. As Richard Thompson writes, Martha Welborne “has simply found that ‘it is often more about politics than it is about good planning.’ That doesn’t diminish the need for quality in the design of the urban environment, but without the support of the political and governmental community, there will be no realization of the dreams.”
Like Martha Welborne, Arthur Golding has poured his skills as an architect into urban planning and community-based design. I remember Arthur ten years ago when he was conducting workshops for civic plans for industrial areas adjacent to the L.A. River. At that time, his dreams seemed quixotic, given the seeming lack of interest then in the revival of the river or of community-driven urban planning. But his incredible patience and tenacity paid off. The coalition he is part of pulled off a coup; thanks to their efforts, Chinatown Yards, one of the sites, is slated to be turned into a park and mixed use development rather than industrial sheds. But the message needs to be spread. Golding, who also teaches at USC, points out the galling truth that, even by the fifth year, architecture students “have relatively little sense of either the regulatory or political climate in which they will operate.” He tries to impart this knowledge to the students.
Julie Oakes, of Oakes and Associates architects, has taken the lesson about political education one step further; to better her city, Hermosa Beach, she thought: what better way to do it than to run the city itself? And so she became mayor. As she points out, “very few architects are or have been involved in politics.” This is a very significant point that, I believe, contributes to a separation of business, politics, and the urban realm at the highest political levels. If one looks to the Latin countries, for example, architecture and civic design occupy a far greater position of importance in decision-making circles. Oakes became two-term mayor and was able to initiate a slate of street and urban improvements. She believes taking leadership is essential to implement an urban vision and says, “There are many roles that architects have and can have in and around City Hall. Architects now serve on many planning commissions and boards. But to implement policy and change, one must go further.” She concludes, “I do not know if anyone has suggested that Jefferson was as good a president as he was because he was also an architect, but it might, just might be worth looking into.”
There will be no visionary leaders if there is no education to prepare them, and Shirl Buss recognizes this, devoting much of her time to sharing her passion with children. She teaches kids from kindergarten through fifth grade, engaging them in “very real design problems in their own schools or communities and [letting] them project themselves into an imaginary future world.” She concludes, “Working with children brings us back to the joy and delight that attracted us to architecture in the first place and keeps that passion alive.”
One way Doug Gardner kept his own passion for architecture alive was by joining the side of the developer. As a member of Maguire Thomas development team for Playa Vista, he tackled the “huge and fascinating” challenge of assembling a team of architects “to create a master plan for a 1,000 acre site that was encumbered with complex political, financial, environmental, and community issues.” First there, and now at his current position with Catellus Urban Development Group in San Francisco, Gardner is trying to enable the creation of masterplans for commercial development that incorporate the best ideas about town planning.
Also in San Francisco is Charles Hall Page; his career demonstrates that not all architects want to mow things down to make way for their own masterpiece. Appalled by the wholesale urban renewal that was wiping historic treasures off the map in the ‘60s and early ‘70s, Page co-founded San Francisco’s Architectural Heritage, an organization that became instrumental in saving much of SF’s heritage as well as inspiring like-minded organizations across the country. Through preservation, he learned the lesson offered by all the architects in this issue, which is, “Architects have a great deal to offer beyond proper detailing and flashing. Their ability to conceptualize shelter—for individuals, families, neighborhoods, businesses, and beyond—is a tremendous asset locally and nationally.” This issue of arcCA offers an education in how the skills of architecture can be used to achieve one of the oldest concerns of architects: urbanity.
Author Frances Anderton is a regular contributor to the New York Times on architecture and design on the West Coast. She produces To the Point and Which Way LA?, national and local current affairs programs hosted by Warren Olney on KCRW 89.9FM. She also hosts and produces DnA (Design and Architecture), a half hour program broadcast monthly on KCRW and Radio@AOL.
Originally published 2nd quarter 2002, in arcCA 02.2, “Citizen Architects.”
