Oct 19
My daughter attends The University of Chicago and while I love the individual buildings: the beautiful gothic revival is surrounded by 1960s brutalism, 90s neon-colored modernism and a giant, domed egg, there is no continuity – no connection between the old and the new.
As an architect, it can be a challenge to integrate your vision into existing spaces.
I embody certain stereotypes of a naturalized citizen, a French woman and an architect. I love fashion. I love modernism. And I love food. My daughter and boyfriend often tell me, with mouths full of Bouillabaisse, why I don’t become a chef instead of an architect. I certainly am less grumpy in the kitchen (their words, not mine).
Every two years, I get to spend a long weekend talking architecture shop. It is one of my favorite events to attend: a conference where we gather some great architects, engaging speakings and spend hours looking at their work and all breathing in a passion for design. Despite my gripes about the world around me, the Monterey Design Conference is a fantastic reminder of the brilliant and innovative work being done and the people behind them. It’s heaven on earth for architects (though, I’m not sure how the contractors feel about it).
I have to note that I’m exceptionally excited to hear Jeanne Gang speak, who is not only a tour-de-force in a male-dominated profession, but also a MacArthur Fellow!
Oh and my enjoyment of this weekend isn’t hurt by the fact I’ll be signing my monograph too.
I am, admittedly, an Internet addict. Although I’m not sure what that term means anymore – can we be addicted to things that efficiency necessitates? Clients rarely call anymore, Yelp reviews mean more than monographs and the tubes for sending out drawings are collecting dust in my office closet.
I have moved into a new office, one that is located in downtown San Francisco, mere blocks from my old one. Instead of putting away files, alphabetizing my books (a task that my then 11 year old daughter once found amusing, oh why did she have to grow up?) – I spent the day on the phone with AT&T. Get “u-verse,” they eagerly told me! It’s so fast! Reliable! We love your loyalty!
I will spare you the three hours on the phone that I spent trying to navigate the most convoluted voicemail and client services ever invented. The only credit I give is the automated voice who has clearly heard the word “representative” so many times you can just interrupt his monotone voice (and then, of course, be placed on hold for an hour). I crossed many oceans, where I spoke with an Indian man who complained about the quality of my phone connection….which was AT&T.
I was transferred and retransferred until a man took pittance on me and offered me a secret tech number; it lead me straight back to the beginning menu options.
It wasn’t long ago that we hailed the Internet as the ultimate tool for social democracy, of free information, free communication with the world at large. It was meant to be an incredibly place to express your ideas, unencumbered by social strata. But access to the social democracy isn’t free – there are miles of corporations, paperwork, back and forths, and bills between the information highway I now depend on for my work and myself. Our ultimate freedom is dependent on a corporation with no accountability and no transparency. Does the ease of the internet justify the hours on hold, the information I gladly give out (how many times have I verified the last four digits of my social just to make sure I could download an email?).
Today on my way back from work, I walked by the encampment on market street where people were protesting Bank of America’s actions relative to foreclosures, credit and bail outs. And I though that I should do the same: get a tent and picket AT&T. Then again, I don’t know if I want my phone service shut off too.
I’ve had my work be called angular before and not always in a positive way. Some people find the spherical familiarity of domed stadiums, cul-de-sacs and marshmallow cars to be soothing.
My architecture is about the play between nature and construction, between lightness and darkness, glass and steel. It is no surprise that this style is also steeped in my life. Read more
San Francisco architecture has a lot of small, darling details – those victorians with painted ladies that line roofs, beautiful trim detailing, fine proportions and, of course, bay windows.
In a victorian, trying to overcome the darkness a floor plan has created can be a daunting task. Since a San Francisco lot is typically 25×100, adding light at both ends creates length but also keeps the center of a home appropriately darker. Bay windows are a simple solution to the problem of light in a typical San Francisco home. You can use them to extend over, into a sidewalk, or outwards over your yard. This makes them into friendly, free-real estate which developers tend to find appealing. Plus, sometimes it will grant you a new view of the water!
I invite you all to attend the opening of a show I have curated for the non-profit Creative Growth.
Featured work includes utopic skyscrapers by William Scott, abstract color studies from Erin Punzel, technical blueprints from Jacob Sockness, and ceramic and wood sculpture from emerging Creative Growth talent.
I’ve hoped to highlight the binaries in space, volume, and dimension as seen through the eyes of Creative Growth artists, that I consider the opposing forces that shape a composition.
I’ll also be signing copies of my monograph from 5-7pm. I hope to see you all there!
The event will be held at :
Creative Growth Art Center
Durkheim used what he called “primitive” individual’s and their beliefs to understand the greater complexities of religious life. While I am not Durkheimian, I do admire the idea of tracing things that are complicated back to their most simple roots.
Maybe Modernism is More –
I recently went on vacation to a small hamlet in the south of France called Esparon. During the “off-season,” it boasts a population of 15 which swells to a daunting 45 during summer. Everything built on top of this little mountain is over 300 years old.
At first, you are overwhelmed by the antiquity of style – the stone work, the arches found everywhere, the low-ceilings and never-to-be-paved routes. But the minimalism also had me thinking about modernism. Not modernism with high tech cellphones and solar panels but architecture that is true to itself. Esparon is a place where buildings are striped of their pretentiousness so that they only reveal the structural forces that make it possible for them to exist. It is the antithesis of mannerist because here less is definitely more.
It isn’t that everything is bigger in Texas but that everything is bigger in the United States. Portions are too big, buildings scrape the sky and (clearly) our spending outweighs our earnings. The extravagant nature of the States can feel in your face, but as I’ve discussed with bad design, we acclimatize ourself to nuisances. Bigger isn’t always bad but I’d rather you didn’t take your big problem onto my streets.
Fougeron Architecture 