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How I Fell Out of Love

It’s over and admittedly, this was not the first time. I’ve reached an age where inevitably a few relationships just didn’t work out along the way. Falling out of love is par for the course in anyone’s life. But this time? I thought this relationship would last forever—that it one would not disappoint and that we would grow old together happily, our lives intertwined.

It’s over, Apple.

Look, I’ve tried, really tried. I have tried to forgive the design flaws. The ugly camera lens that juts from the back of the iPhone and the weird white band on the back. There’s the terrible battery life which has me carting an extra battery pack (sometimes two) and don’t get me started on the countless vestigial cables that have less compatibility than oil and water.

(I will not even talk about the watch. Are they still making them?)

 

I’ve had an iPhone for ten years and I’ve been using Mac computers since the 1990s. Trouble had been brewing in paradise for awhile but it all went down hill with the earphone problem. In an effort to make a slimmer phone, the conical earbud port had to go. But I now need two pairs of ear phones: one for my phone and one for my computer. And there’s no adapter (I swear, look on amazon) to add a headphone jack!

I do admit: I’m a hypocrite. I used to criticize Microsoft and its products, remarking on their ugly design, their intransigent rules and operation systems that functioned something like my way or the highway? Now, I need an IT specialist to figure out my iCloud everytime I sync my phone to my computer!

Apple, what happened? You were carefree, full of simple enthusiasm and easy to get along with. What happened to us? Where did we go wrong?

I miss you, Steve.

It is just too much baggage, Not emotional but physical: I go out I am carrying ten kilos worth of phone equipment and every time I have to go through the packing list:  battery pack? Check. Cord and charger? Check. Earphones for my iPhone? Earphones for my computer? Check, check. The ugly case I hate? Check. A valium and pain killer to get me through this technological hellscape? Check and check.

But the final straw? The new Apple HQ designed by Norman Foster. (This was coming: I’m an architect, what did you expect?) Maybe some of you think this is a marvelous piece architecture and don’t get me wrong, I strongly admire Norman Foster’s work but this headquarters is all wrong. It’s wrong on so many levels: anti-urban, anti-social, elitist, environmentally insensitive. And who has been spreading gossip that working millennials love open-concept spaces? You know what millennials love? Privacy.

Apple: you cannot be a forward-thinking company with backward thinking policy. I gave up Uber for Lyft and now I will have to give up Apple for Samsung. Sorry it has been grand but I just don’t love you anymore.

(except the AirPods, I’ll be keeping those)

 

 

 

Back to “Average”

I am a a fan of the exceptional: beautiful items of clothing, stunning meals of unusual ingredients, architecture that pushes the boundaries of physics. But the exceptional is only palpable if other things aren’t (exceptional, that is).
In an attempt to make every moment of our lives noteworthy, we seem to constantly want the exceptional. A kind of exceptionalism that seeps into all elements of our life: new headquarters meant to revolutionize working spaces, new makeup technology that will fight the signs of aging.

I went to a beautiful dinner a few weeks ago at a gastronomical hot-spot. The French chef imbues memory and heritage into every dish but in a ten course meal, nearly course was over-wrought and over-thought. Not only was each course only one small bite, every dish had something in it that was not edible. What! When did this become fashionable and the norm in high end restaurant?! Is this what I pay extra for?   And because each dish was a thesis unto itself, once the meal  was over I could hardly remember what the chef was trying to tell me and why it mattered. And you may think I’m being dramatic but even the great Heston Blumenthal agrees that molecular gastronomy is over.
Two nights later, while watching the Chef’s Table, I agonized as the lead chef assembled every dish with tweezers. Ingredients pulled from the Andes, caviar made of moss and nearly microscopic leaves. These exceptional meals are of course proving a kind of ethos, a representation of the self within food. But…have you ever noticed how exhausting it is? It’s not a sustainable life-force! In the episode, even the wife of the featured chef iadmitted some of the dishes did not taste good! So now each dish is composed of the edible food that tastes bad and non-edible elements that you cannot swallow.
Why does every newsworthy recipe now involve molecular gastronomy, a sous vide machine and in-depth understanding of umami, favor profiles and notes? Why can’t my dinner include six ingredients, not sixty seven? When did a ladle become a faux pas in the kitchen? As the ladle is replaced by the tweezer, common sense is being replaced by the preposterous.

This is over complication. Some things just need to be average so we can survive: so we can make it to the next step of whatever we’re going to do.
And look, average does  not mean mediocre or uninspiring.  It is just more approachable and appropriate, something we could all use in food design and—dare I say, even architecture.

The Idea of Excellence

In the last two years, I have begun a newfound obsession. A something ignited within me and I am now a basketball fan. A big basketball fan. Games had been in the background of the home I share with my partner, Mark, for years, but until the powerhouse Curry sent the team in a new era, I hadn’t paid much attention. And now, I can say I am a Golden State Warriors zealot. Friends know if plans are made around game time, we’ll likely be watching and my daughter googles their schedule to know when not to interrupt me at night (I’ll answer but only to quickly say “The game is on! I’ll call you back later!”).

I’ve never been much into watching sports on television. I definitely have a competitive streak and love a close race. But I am drawn to The Golden State warriors in a similar way to studying the contours of a beautifully designed building. The truth is, it’s nearly impossible to ignore excellence when it’s placed directly in front of you.

We’ve seen plenty of examples before: watching with rapt attention an Olympic sport we had never heard of before, standing in long lines for one fantastic food croissant or life-altering falafel. We are drawn to excellence, to exceptionalism. It’s why in Barcelona, lines for Gaudi’s works are the longest, his parks and churches filled with tourists in awe of his bizarre genius. It’s why the Guggenheim is one of the most visited museums in New York City: it has phenomenal art but it’s curvaceous design is really what halts visitors in their step.

Watching Steph Curry maneuver on the court, you can see he is not only an exceptional athlete but a leader on the court as a communicator.  The team is a body and he is serving as the heart, helping the other pieces function, providing them with the necessary resources to do their jobs.

Steph Curry isn’t why I keep watching, though (or Durant!). My love of basketball is the fluid movements, teammates sacrificing their own opportunities for each other. You don’t always have the best shot, you aren’t always going to be open.

It isn’t about individual glory, it’s about how these players can move and work together as a nearly unbeatable unit.

Maybe it’s another example of how we are more than the sum of our parts. It’s somethings we can discuss in the future.

Just don’t call me during the playoffs, I’m busy.

Palm Springs: Modernism and Democracy

While I am a tried-and-true Northern Californian, my work often brings me to Los Angeles and the neighboring areas. And well, as an architect, I can’t help but notice what’s around me.

Modern architecture is often painted as elitist—as if efficient design can’t also be good design.

Buildings can be useful while still being beautiful.

 

 

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The Rise of Urban Agriculture

Nearly a decade ago, the History Channel asked architects to imagine urban life in 100 years. As a part of the competition, firms were given eight days to reimagine San Francisco’s landscape. With a world population that will top 10 billion people, how will we address the strain on our resources? As cities grow larger and farms grow smaller, how does the agricultural model have to shift?

Our project thought vertically–literally. We united existing structures with what we deemed agricultural settings, we created a vision of agricultural co-habitation.

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A decade later, vertical farms are a very real thing.

In areas of the world struck by political, social and environmental turmoil, the new agricultural world is certainly much closer than anyone had anticipated.  Around 15 percent of the world’s food is now grown in urban areas. Per the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), urban farms already supply food to about 700 million residents of cities, representing about a quarter of the world’s urban population. Urban agriculture offers a partial solution to the world of hunger. This is something to applaud.

For example, in Gaza, a man is perfecting hydroponic gardening on his roof, using his own custom mix of natural ingredients to provide extra nutrients and fertilizers. As fertile land shrinks and water crisis deepens, Palestinians are searching for different ways to feed their families.

Fish farms are moving indoors and becoming healthier for the fish (and us). Many cities are moving towards interweaving agriculture within neighborhoods. Even on a smaller scale, companies like Sur la Table are offering affordable hydroponic machines. Industrialization allowed us access to any produce from around the world but that doesn’t necessarily mean it is always convenient or efficient. Having the opportunity to create your own food and foster your own plant-life offers some freedom.

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Surprisingly, the return to smaller-scale agriculture in a modern world is addressing inequalities. In parts of Africa, women have long struggled in the agricultural fight. The best available vacant land is typically given to men, while women’s plots are of lower quality and located further away from their homes. The greater the scarcity of land, the more discrimination women see in the agricultural world. Urban farming in these regions provides opportunities for women’s empowerment that rural agriculture never has. Women are more likely to pitch in to physical labor in urban farms because plots are smaller, and they are gaining more bargaining position within their households as dependency on female income increases.

Urban agriculture can play a huge role in feeding the poor and increasing food security across the continent. It also can provide much-needed resources and a sense of personal independence in politically unstable climates.

New urban farming is in some sense, what farming once was: a more intimate and small-scale operation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why I March(ed)

 

On January 21st, I went to Washington D.C. and protested the anti-feminist policies of our Commander-in-Cheeto. I brought my daughter because I knew she had to experience it too.

The experience was invigorating as it was overwhelming. You’ve never seen so many people in your life. Being one of the many doesn’t make you feel hopeless but the exact opposite: hopeful. The fighting spirit, the smiles and chants were the first thing that had brought my blood pressure down in months.

Everything I had been doing felt like it was falling on deaf ears. I donated money, I read the papers and magazines and used Twitter as my up-to-date news. But it all didn’t feel like much.

I felt deflated in the face of the incumbent administration. I realized at this march, surrounded by every gender, race and creed, that actions continue to speak louder than words. It’s easy to think you’re contributing from behind a screen but Washington showed me that we must show up.

But a million of us can’t march every day. But we can send letters, make phone calls and plan the next march. For today, check out 5calls, which shows you which issues are most at stake and which representatives and officials you can call to make yourself heard. No action is too small, if it is action.

 

Sexism in Architecture

Since I began my career in architecture, I have faced sexism. I’ve been ignored in meetings and belittled. I’ve had contractors not take my word and watched jury after jury of all male panelists. The behaviors bothered me. I never tolerated them but I was also just one architect.

As my career has grown, I have grown more and more tired of the same trite sexist structures I see in architecture. Audiences of only white men, award ceremonies where not a single woman is nominated. Other than Zaha Hadid, most can’t name a contemporary female architect.

A portion of this is our own invisibility. While more than 50% of architecture students are female, only about 18% are practicing in some form. The lack of spotlight on females in architecture and our own shrinking or narrowing are clearly an issue.

I like to discuss how being a woman and being an architect are—at times—set up as diametrically opposed. How does how we perceive women (or how women are told to act) impact their potential careers as architects? How do existing patriarchal structures undermine women interested in engineering or more math-driven work? How can we work within a community and without a community to begin implementing solutions?

Earlier this week, I spoke at an AIA event in Dallas, Texas. I discussed sexism in architecture and the lack of diversity in the most celebrated architects and work of architecture. I was humbled by the amount of people who came up to me after the event or who sent emails and thanked me for addressing inequality in.

However, every one was not so happy. One man wrote a response to me citing that I had completely ignored “gender strengths” as a confounding factor.

“[Anne] conveniently ignored gender strengths such a show men are spatial thinkers whereas women are stronger visualizing color and sympathy. She also ignored how Architecture is a strong draw for introverted types – much more prone to men; whereas, women are much stronger with client and people relationships.”

What our (white male) writer fails to recognize is how these characteristics of gender are completely based on stereotypes. Are men truly more introverted or is it that males are conditioned to not share their emotions? Are women better with relationships inherently or is it because the idea of mothering and tending to emotions is impressed upon females from a very young age?

Discussing this kind of inherent sexism is similar to discussing white privilege, micro-aggressions or other biases and how they reflect in various industries. It’s about looking at current societal constructs and hierarchies–it’s about recognizing the imbalance and making efforts to rectify them.

 

 

 

 

Sometimes, it’s better to be perfect than innovative

I focus a lot on innovation and modernity: how can we keep looking forward and improving on the commonplace. But the truth is, there is something exceptionally valuable about someone who is also a perfectionist in their time and within their profession.

One of my great loves is cooking. And one of my favorite indulgences is cookingware. I love reading about molecular gastronomy and new ways to consume food. But as any chef will tell you, it is your knives that are the most important.

Over the years, I have invested in some good knives. I have watched videos online on how to sharpen your knives and have attempted it many times but never with much luck. After a friend’s recommendation, I went to his knife sharpener. A man in a small boutique where he has been for over thirty years. I left him my knives. And he was good. He was so good, in fact, I had to relearn how to hold my knives because they were so sharp now…a couple of deep cuts later I learned. Cutting and dicing has a new pleasure and ease. The knives seems even sharper than when I bought them. Thank you, North Beach Columbus Cutlery.

His job isn’t necessarily glamorous or innovative. He isn’t pushing the limits or boundaries of his craft but he excels at it. And he is so exceptional that he is memorable. It takes time to be good at what you do, no matter what it is. But it takes passion and commitment to be able to call oneself a perfectionist and produce that kind of work. It also truly takes a diligence that I admire: the ability to work on the same shape, same structure and make continuous, minute changes.

There’s less glamor in it, of course. HuffPo won’t feature him as “The World’s Best Knife Sharpener,” BuzzFeed won’t make an article like “You Won’t Believe What this Man Can Do!” but his work is still important and immensely satisfying.

 

 

The Big Problem

After eight years away, my daughter moved back to San Francisco in early 2015. College had taken her to the Midwest and later on, a job moved her to the East Coast. When she moved back, a little over a year ago, she was exhilarated. The plan had always been to come back to California.

She called me the second or third week she was back. She was uneasy—while the restaurant and food culture still flourished, her city felt unfamiliar. I thought she would comment on the influx of techies, the unavoidable mark Silicon Valley had made on the city once again. No, she was unnerved by a city that was expanding rapidly without fixing its foundation. The problems she had seen in the city growing up had been amplified.

While San Francisco’s small 7×7 dimensions expand, to include new high rises, new apartment complexes, new headquarters, the streets become smaller. . There is so much that is new in the city but we seem to have forgone fixing the problems of old.

Traffic is a part of the city’s infrastructure and anyone commuting between 4:30-7:30pm knows this. The MUNI continues to run irregularly and its aboveground system prevents public transportation from being impervious to traffic. BART still shuts down amidst overuse and electrical problems

But worse yet and what is most troubling is the homelessness population. My daughter had recently lived in Boston, Chicago and New York and couldn’t believe the difference. Our streets are not only littered with trash but with people: unconscious or just asleep. Ending an evening commute at Civic Center means enduring an onslaught of displaced peoples, some who are just trying to right their lives and others who have given up entirely.

It’s hard for me not to give up too.

After over 30 years in the Bay Area, I’ve somewhat adjusted to our nomadic population. It is a sad reality of living in any major city. However, in the last decade, the problem has grown exponentially. People are not receiving any mental or health care, the systems in place to help them are broken and broke. I have been attacked outside of a Safeway 300 feet from my house, I have been punched in the back while walking my dog along mission. I have had friends followed for blocks, lunged at with knives and seen too many needles to count as I walk through my city. I avoid walking if I know it will take me along certain stretches of Market Street or Mission.

Now a days, every San Franciscan has endured a (recent) commute in which someone that is unstable launches into a tirade. In these moments, you are afraid for your own safety but also for them. There is no way of determining if this is another lost soul, one who society has cast aside or if this is a true risk. There is no way to know if this outburst stems from anger, lack of health care or is induced by drugs. This ambiguity creates further hostility between people lacking resources and the people who have them, because there is an ever-present threat. A threat between safety and home, a threat between freedom and society.

Something has to be done. Because it is intolerable for both parties: we deserve to feel safe and cared for. No one should feel fear walking in the middle of the day in their city.

What makes an architect or building good? Even great?

What is great architecture? What makes a building “good?”

As a woman, my buildings are immediately a political statement, a statement on my gender. I am often described as a “female architect” rather than just “architect.” But rather than let the politics of the system control my work: politics and aesthetics inspire and innovate me.

I don’t think great architecture comes from architects who dedicate themselves to one kind of project. After awhile, those two dozen office headquarters you’ve designed start to look alike. But good architecture isn’t just about vision either, it’s about a personal mission and a philosophy. Deciding what architecture meant to me and what creating a building meant—what it represented—was a seminal decision in my career and in my style.

In all of my projects, I try to imbue what I describe as humane modernism: buildings that are well built, that foster connections, and inspire their inhabitants, are an ethical responsibility. And this is a challenge.

Often times, the projects I take on have a moral and environmental dilemma to face; tight sites, tight budgets, modern but environmentally conscious design that can echo the voice of the clients. How can a Planned Parenthood clinic be both warm, opening but secure? How can a residence on a cliff (with a 200 foot drop) look romantic, modern but still fit on its rural site? And all while working with clients with their very own opinions.

I have designed health centers and multi-family residences. I have designed headquarters and homes, some from scratch and others were given to me with bones. In each project, I consider and apply my philosophy.

But your vision or mission doesn’t need to be morally or politically oriented like mine. Gehry’s façades play with perspective and his interiors with space. He challenges what a building can be. Hadid looked towards angularity that is still fluid. She compromised nothing

Discovering what philosophy motivates your creation—that is good architecture.

 

 

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