Architect

INTRODUCTION

Architecture is at the core of our contemporary culture. When we look at the distinguished buildings of our time—some that we may inhabit in our everyday lives, seek out as tourists, or regard intellectually—the physical architectural features draw us in. But there is so much we don’t know, beginning with, What did the architect intend? Why is a building a given shape, or made with certain materials? What about the landscape, or the constraints of a city? And what about us—how much were we, the public, considered when the architect began to first imagine the work?

This is an uncommon book of architecture. So often writing on architecture is through the lens of a critic, scholar, or journalist. But in Architect, we look through the other end of the telescope: this time it is the architect—35 Pritzker Prize laureates, to be specific—who speak to us and share their thoughts, dreams, philosophies, inspirations, and influences about their built work. Here the outsider is silenced and we listen instead to the creators themselves. The results are illuminating. On the whole, architects tend to be intensely thoughtful and verbal. There is Peter Zumthor (2009), the architect’s poet, who can make stone as seductive as a steamy art film (of the Thermal Baths in Vals, Switzerland, he writes: “mass, large and serene, should be left alone so that the presence of the stone is felt, so that it can exert its own effect on our bodies.”). Contrast that with someone like Frank Gehry (1989), who is to the point about his work and his legacy (of Guggenheim Bilbao: “the most important thing to me is to build the buildings.” And, “In the end my work is my work; it’s not a critic’s work.”). Or Thom Mayne (2005), who speaks emphatically of “the music of reality.” And there is the intensely personal aspect of architecture, its emotive quality, summed up simply but heroically by Luis Barragán (1980): “my architecture is biographical.” Now look at works by each of these architects and you will be looking as a privileged insider—with the eyes of the architect him- and herself.

The architects presented here are not only hugely influential and leaders in their field, they are the Pritzker Prize laureates, deemed the best architects in the world. Collectively, they have shaped the field of architecture, architectural history, and our built environment at the end of the twentieth century and the first decade of the twenty-first. The annual Pritzker Prize has been called architecture’s Nobel Prize, a comparison supported by both prizes’ use of an open nominations procedure and independence of the jury. It was only in 1979 that the Pritzker family of Chicago through the Hyatt Foundation established the prize. Though relatively young as prizes go, its impact has been enormous and significant. Its stated purpose is “to honor a living architect whose built work demonstrates a combination of those qualities of talent, vision, and commitment, which has produced consistent and significant contributions to humanity and the built environment through the art of architecture.” The prize is not given for a specific built work, but rather for what is considered to be the accumulated excellence of a career. From the first laureate, Philip Johnson, in 1979, to Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa, the 2010 laureates, the arc of architectural accomplishment is both impressive and potent.

In focusing on what architects have to say about their work, we chose to present the Pritkzer Prize laureates because they not only provide an extraordinary and wide-ranging international selection of contemporary architecture of the past three decades, but also because many of them, at least in name, are familiar to a broad audience. Their prominence extends well beyond more cloistered architecture circles. A list of major landmarks impresses in scope and place, including I.M. Pei’s glass pyramid for the Louvre in Paris, Norman Foster’s profound response to the historically loaded Reichstag in Berlin, Jørn Utzon’s melodic Sydney Opera House, Herzog & de Meuron’s triumphant Beijing National Stadium, Tange’s deeply respectful Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, Kevin Roche’s long-lasting affiliation with New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. The list goes on and on. The differences in the architects’ approaches, interests, and locations are great, but the connective tissue is that each is a strong individual with well-honed philosophies, intensely focused in the practice of architecture. In the work of these laureates we see reflected the trajectory of changing tastes over time.

As we began our research, one of our early questions was, Does an architect follow through—is there a connection from an architect’s ideas to the execution of those ideas? In other words, does an architect walk the talk? Although it’s often said that a work speaks volumes, we turned the tables and asked, But how about the words themselves? What do they tell us?

Architect is organized chronologically, taking as its starting point today, 2010, and retracing the laureates back to the debut of the Pritzker Prize in 1979 of that outspoken sophisticate, Philip Johnson (“I don’t think ideology has anything to do with architecture.… You see, I have no convictions, but do have taste.”) Each chapter features approximately four to six major built works that are both awe-inspiring and important in defining each architect’s body of work, as well as their contributions to the field. The projects were carefully chosen to demonstrate the depth and richness of repertoire, for in sum they profile the diversity of our lives, our interests, and our needs: schools, places of worship, shops, airports, museums, courthouses, stadiums and sports arenas, corporate headquarters, residences, embassies, memorials, spas, libraries, hotels, banks, and cemeteries. But in this book we look at the built work with the architects themselves talking in our ear, leading us into the privileged and often private terrain of their own thoughts, gathered from a variety of sources including interviews, lectures, and writings. As the title of this book makes clear, this is the Pritzker Prize laureates “in their own words.”

They had plenty to say on a number of topics, beginning with the most important issues over the past three decades, including materiality, regionalism, and sustainability. Indeed, one of the most urgent issues of our time is the practice of ecological architecture and the use of sustainable technologies. Glenn Murcutt (2002), Richard Rogers (2007), and Norman Foster (1999) are leaders in incorporating sustainable technologies at the core of their architecture, setting new standards for practicing architects as well as for society. Murcutt, for example, is both a leader and teacher in ecological architecture, pioneering such concepts as, “climate-responsive architecture,” as well as showing us that sustainable practices need not be overly technical, but that in fact, ethics, as well as ordinary and simple things, are very much part of this approach.

As our research continued, there were many surprises too. The importance of the cinema as a lens through which to view the human condition influences Aldo Rossi (1990), Herzog & de Meuron (2001), and Christian de Portzamparc (1994). As Jean Nouvel (2009) observes, “there are a lot of crossovers between the two disciplines.” A number of the laureates have express opinions about the pros and cons of generating a design using the computer or other digital technology and architectural software, including AutoCAD, as well as three-dimensional modeling tools like Rhino, 3D Studio Max, and Maya. (Hadid, yes; Utzon, never; Gehry, grudgingly.) From architects like de Portzamparc and the late James Stirling (1981), we learn that architecture does not exist in isolation—that it is instead vitally informed by its context, be it urban or natural. Cities and nature are dramatis personae to be reckoned with (clients, too, but less glowingly). Aldo Rossi writes, “A knowledge of the city enables us not only to understand architecture, but also, as architects, to design it.” Kevin Roche and Fumihiko Maki (1993) each intone the value of public service and the greater good, for as James Stirling once said of the architect, “it is his unique responsibility to raise the human spirit by the quality of the environment which he creates, whether in a room, a building, or a town.” Personalities emerge in delightfully unexpected ways, most notably Gordon Bunshaft (1988), who was famously reticent on the topic of his architectural process and theories, having once said flatly, “I like my architecture to speak for me.” Contrast this with the eighty-year-old Bunshaft who told his interviewer, Betty Blum, “I’m old. And I can reminisce for the next ten years.” On the Beineke Rare Book & Manuscript Library at Yale University, Bunshaft recalled, “I’ve had ladies write me about the Beinecke saying that they just shivered when they saw it.” As for the pitfall of becoming or being labeled a starchitect, Mayne is unambiguous on the subject.

Another frequent topic among the architects was their indebtedness to the modern masters. Tadao Ando (1995), Kenzo Tange (1987), and Sverre Fehn (1997), to name a few, reference the significant influence of Swiss architect Le Corbusier (1887–1965). German architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe (1886–1969) was another influential figure. So too were Louis Kahn (1901–1974) and Walter Gropius (1883–1969). Among the laureates, Jørn Utzon (2003) is frequently upheld as an example of an architect wronged by local politics, but whose vision for the Sydney Opera House is one of the great architectural designs of the modern age.

Among these architects, you will find tastemakers, manifesto-writers, and intellectuals. They are the kinds of particularly influential architects who devote their energies to academia and cultural institutions as well as to building architecture. Rem Koolhaas (2000), Rafael Moneo (1996), Robert Venturi (1991), Aldo Rossi, and James Stirling are architect-theorists who, through their architecture, writings, and teaching have influenced many generations of young architects. As Thom Mayne has remarked, he hopes to engage “virtual territory—that is, the territory of the mind of the student.”

A significant change since 2000 is that women have won the Pritzker Prize. In 2004, Zaha Hadid became the first woman named a laureate and in 2010, Kazuyo Sejima, with her male partner as SANAA, also won the prize. While there are many women architects practicing today in the traditionally male-dominated profession of architecture, the percentage that lead their own firms is still surprisingly small. As Sejima says, “There is an image that it is only men who make big projects, but I think that’s just because there weren’t many women in architecture in the past. Hadid, characteristically, is more forthright: “If I was a man, they wouldn’t call me a diva.”

And where does Architecture intersect with Art? Many architects, including Renzo Piano (1998), believe that while architecture is a kind of art, its material, structural, and functional aspects make it unique. By contrast, Philip Johnson sees it as a no-contest debate: “Architecture is art, nothing else.”

Regarding the prosaic matters of editing and such, we kept changes to a minimum throughout, preferring to preserve natural cadence and syntax, hoping that in this regard readers can most directly experience any of the architects in their glorious diversity. For matters of internal consistency, we Americanized spelling and punctuation, and corrected obvious errors when necessary.

As the editors of this massive body of work, we have brought together two satisfyingly divergent views of architecture. We like to think that together we represent a broad audience of interested readers: Ruth Peltason is an editor and writer, with years of experience editing art and illustrated books, among them 100 Contemporary Architects by Bill Lacy, former executive director of the Pritkzer Prize. Grace Ong Yan, Ph.D., is an architectural historian, educator, and architect who specializes in modern and contemporary architecture.

Despite our different skills and interests, we have each been moved and enriched by the experience of compiling this publication. Each of the architects, through their own words, has given us a greater appreciations of their work. Our hope is that Architect offers interested readers fresh meaning and ideas, and serves both to elevate and humanize the process of making great architecture.