Conceptualizing

Watching Alan Rosenblum, Newschool of Architecture & Design faculty, talk about de-constructing "concept" was inspiring to me. After spending the afternoon working on a an abstract concept model (not to scale, just shapes and inter-relationships, a loosy-goosy sort of thing), I learned just how abstract the process of conceptualizing can be. The first year graduate students were dealing with a way of deconstructing and reconstructing concept that was truly fascinating to me.

The assignment forced the students to look beyond their preconceived notions of concept and then turn out results that were beautiful and strikingly original. And in the systematic process, the result you might have thought was your solution gets destroyed (literally cut to shreds) and reassembled in a new way. Twice!!! The whole process repeats and you destroy the second solution, only to begin again (anew). The resulting output was fascinating to view and the process stunning to comprehend.

While intuition and pre-conception are often thought to be at the essence of creative thought, this exercise opens ones eyes to the possibility of process driving creativity. While I do think that the process can be made to enhance the result, there is still an intuitive assess/catalogue/analyze/assemble function (or series of functions) that is dependent upon the intuitive application of some principles of design. Why one solution derived from the process turns out better than another is solely dependent upon some "creative inspiration that comes from nothing."

To this day, this creative process is not able to be automated. For if design could be exclusively process driven, then robots could do it. And goodness knows lots of companies would prefer to have robots doing design; rather than the chaos and excitement, frustrations and triumphs, and the happy accidents that surround most of us creative types.

The efficiency experts might love it if automation could overtake the creative process. And then there would be the unhappy result of a world of uninspired solutions to design problems. A process driven sameness and monotony would overwhelm the senses like too much rich food overwhelms the digestion. Or like (supposedly) Tuscan inspired villas have overtaken Southern California. The resultant would be a clamor for unique solutions to separate "us" from "them" via unique expressions of personality and tres banal cliches of....

Wait! This already sounds so familiar. Did design get automated already? Did I miss something?

Group Project: Site Analysis

I just completed an assignment that involved working in a small group. I joined a group for this assignment because I felt like I would be able to learn something more from the others in the group. I am still feeling my way in this new educational environment. Going it alone doesn't seem to be the right course of action.

Thankfully, I also realized early-on that the percentage of work completed would be more-or-less equivalent to the amount learned. That is to say, doing the entire assignment by myself would be more work; and with less opportunity to learn from others. It seemed like a winning situation. And it was, though not quite for the reasons I forecast.

I learned much in completing the assignment because I did a lot of the work on my own. This was a particular area of Architecture about which I know very little. I have never had to make a site analysis presentation. Most of my work as an interior designer involved projects where site analysis meant redesigning the furniture assortment for the deck and / or patio. ...Not considerations of the impact of zoning regulations, or the fact that the site was within an area considered to be an aircraft landing buffer zone.

What was most educational for me was realizing that no matter how much energy one puts into a group project, the outcome, in terms of learning, is proportional. This was very obviously true for one member of our group whose participation was limited (due to a previously planned trip between last week's assignment and this week's due date). His lack of participation showed when our Professor asked questions about the Site Analysis and its implications for the design solution.

In the end, I was genuinely proud of my work and that of my teammates. I think we delivered the "Team 1" spirit we were determined to show. And the analysis showed that spirit as well. Now the challenging, creative, work of turning that analysis into inspired concepts begins. I continue to be inspired (with inspiration that comes from nothing!). And for this I am truly grateful. That, and for the sound sleep that comes of being past the previous deadline, and ahead of the clock on the next one. ...tick, tock, tick, tock...

Pacing

There are several meanings to the word: Pacing. I can think of it in terms of pacing back and forth when I am processing thought. It doesn't really serve any particular purpose; save dispelling some pent up emotions or relieving some kinetic stress. Then there is the pacing one does when one is trying to conserve energy in any particular drill.

I guess that, lately, I have been doing both. I am fascinated by my work in school. There is great opportunity and challenge here, if not particularly as I might have thought. I am learning most, it seems right now, about the process of Architectural education. I pace. And I am pacing myself in anticipation of the opportunity to really dig into some deep topic in Architectural Theory.

One of my instructors started out with great enthusiasm and the possibilities appeared quite good. The front page of the course syllabus has a quote from Peter Eisenman: " When music teachers teach their students, they don't teach them composition by having them compose. Instead, they have them listen to music. In architecture schools very few people listen to the music, as it were. They're thrown right in and asked to design."

This is the same instructor who gave a 48 hour Case Study of a Super Hero assignment, and immediately followed with the resultant 5 day assignment to design the Lair of the Super Hero and create a scale model of the design (see prior post). Thrown right in, all right. Where is the listening in that? (To be clear, there is a Field Trip on the docket).

I continue to be grateful to other studio-mates who have been enormously helpful in directing me to resources, stimulating thought about solutions, and sharing ideas about education and career. There is a camaraderie here that is wonderful. I hope I can live up to the challenge and provide my share of assistance in the future. The scales seem un-balanced today as there is so much I need to learn.

An example of this is the large amount of technology which must be gotten under control. When last I used a Scientific Calculator, the alternative was a Slide Rule. Does anybody know what that is anymore? I asked a dear friend if she was familiar with a Slide Rule and she replied "Is that something like an abacus?" Not quite, but close in concept, if not in age. Oh, and the Newfangled Scientific Calculators were $179.00. The one I just purchased was $12.99. Another example is the need for AutoCad and other computer graphics packages.

So I sat down to take a quiz in my Statics class earlier this week. I was prepared; or so I thought. I knew the process to resolve the effect of two different forces on an object. I knew the parallelogram method. I knew the formula (from trigonometry over 35 years ago) thanks to a brief refresher on the first day of Statics. So I wrote out the solution and then turned on my new Scientific Calculator. There was a code in the window that I did not understand. And the calculator would take no inputs.

I sighed heavily, embarrassed to the core, and took my plight (and the calculator) to the instructor's desk to explain why I was going to fail the quiz. She offered her super-duper extra fantastic Scientific Calculator for my use and gave a quick lesson. I returned to my desk thinking perhaps the day was saved. I struggled to do the calculations and began to throw in the towel. The instructor returned my calculator to my desk, saying she wasn't certain how it happened, but the code was gone, and the calculator was taking inputs. Hallelujah. With a clickety clack of key strokes, I was done in a flash. Thank goodness for small favors.

I realize that I am somewhat of an albatross in the class room. I ask questions. Challenge the teachers on matters of importance to me. Wonder about the outcomes of this or that process and the inter-relationships of all the new things I am learning. I am certain that I will be challenged to find ways of learning that suit my perspective on life. And thank goodness there are others around who share that desire to learn. I love listening to the music.

Me, Modeling?

Well, only three days into my first quarter in Architecture school, I got an assignment that totally stopped me in my tracks. After completing an old-school marker-rendering of the thinking man's super-hero (Batman, of course, in the pose of Rodin's The Thinker), I was asked to design Batman's lair (the Batcave) and build a scale model. What a fascinating (literally) assignment! And of course, it is made all the more fascinating by the fact that I have never before made a to-scale architectural model. Oh, did I tell you it is due to be critiqued on Monday afternoon? Guess where I am spending the weekend?

So I am learning first hand the value of the studio experience. A kind, young man with lots of model making expertise has been very helpful. It is amazing how the studio depends upon the value and expertise of each individual member. This is particularly true in the studio called Vertical Studio. When I registered, I considered that it might be about high-rise design. It is not... This studio is called Vertical because it is one of the few studios that are offered to all levels of students, from beginning undergrads to graduate level students. Also fascinating.

The school studio environment is a little "quiet" when it comes to critiques. I anticipated lively critiques and interactive discussions in the studio. I am finding, most people keep to themselves. Still, I am grateful for the opportunity to learn from the more advanced students and to share what I know with them and the beginners alike. I guess it only takes a few out-going folks to broaden the perspective.

Also on my dockett, is my first CADD assignment. I think I can already see how this appeals to many designers. Still, for someone who can draw, it is a little like switching from a fineline felt-tip to a calligraphy brush. They are both tools, useful for different kinds of communication. There is something vrey comforting about feeling ones way through a design problem with a felt-tip pen in hand. The motions and gestures of drawing are so mesmerizing; as are those of the calligrapher with a fine brush. I am certain with practice CADD can become a way-of-life, too.

I am planning to post a picture after I complete my model for the Batcave. I am liking how it is turning out. That is to say, I am liking it at this stage. I remember the 1960's TV series "Batman" and have gotten most of my context for the design from that programs many episodes. Time will tell if my studio thinks that I have gotten it right. Certainly, I will have learned alot about modeling.

First Day of School

Today is the first day of Summer Session '09 and I am so looking forward to school. I remember this enthusiasm from my childhood years. Of course, by the time I got to high school, and my first days at St. Olaf College, I was less than wildly enthusiastic. Today, however, is an exciting milestone for me. I have been wanting to study architecture since I was about 12 or 13 years old. And I start with Environmental Biology, and Vertical Studio.

I remember the genesis of my interest in architecture very clearly. I was in a Boy Scouts of America "Explorer" program created by an architect who was also our Scoutmaster. One Saturday, we went to the offices of Armstrong, Torseth, Skold and Rydeen (of Minneapolis, MN). The day's activities included a brief design charrette, of sorts, for a fountain plaza at the entrance to a building. I remember that day, fondly, as the day I first learned something about process-thinking. More importantly, I remember the fascination I felt, and the inspiration (which came from nothing). I was in awe of it then; and I remain in awe of creative inspiration to this day.

In my family, the idea of being an architect was supported and encouraged as an ideal; if not particularly practicable. Neither of my parents had graduated from college. Their support was of the variety: "you can do whatever you decide." That idealism, born of a rush of middle-class growth, following my parents' depression-era upbringings and WWII resettlement, was a significant part of the challenge. That there was freedom was clear. Unfortunately, there were other distractions calling for my attention.

One might consider the distractions with regret. I prefer to consider those distractions with honor as they have made me the person I am. We are, however, a product of our circumstances only to the extent that we allow those circumstances to speak for us. Recently, I have learned that I can create my "being," without regard for the circumstances. It is this learning that allows me the opportunity to create a new career at this stage of my life. That, and the support of all my friends, clients, and loved ones.

So here am I, at the beginning of a new era in my life. When my peers will be processing payouts for their retirement plans in the not-too-distant future, I will be beginning a new career in architecture. At long last, after all these years.

Lyle IS My Name

After all these years of not dealing with educational institutions (it has been awhile), I am facing the challenge of being unique. As multi-cultural as our world has become, it is fascinating to me that institutions still have limited name categories. The world of names is fascinating in and of itself; what with hyphenated names becoming more popular. And then there are the cultural differences in names. One would think that the increasingly global education market would force educational institutions to rethink the somewhat predicatable (and very Anglo-saxon) way that names are categorized.



I am fascinated when people take exception (or make what I find to be embarassing jokes) regarding names from other cultures which seem to mimic words from their own languages. An example of this is a new friend named Hai; pronounced like the English slang greeting: hi. To giggle or poke fun at this name is really sophomoric; and quite possibly antagonistic. While there is some confusion associated with the greeting, upon meeting: "Hi Hai!" it can only be due to one's own myopia.



The world is full of names. In fact, it is peculiarly human to categorize and name things. And this is where I run into problems with my name. The inflexible categories created by institutions never seem to fit me. And for that, I am chastised; something which I find particularly offensive. At registration at NewSchool of Architecture and Design, I was told that I could file a "nick-name" request. This points up a flaw in the institution's record keeping because I don't have a "nick-name."



While I realise that my name is a little uncommon, there is nothing nicky about it. It is not a shortened version, or a favorite or pet name created by some acronym or combination of names. Tradition, in my family, dictated my given name. And I have always, since birth (with the short term exception of a transition period when my identity was in flux during my teenage years) been called Lyle. During the period in question, one of my teachers tried to give me a real nick-name based upon my "institutional" name. This just didn't identify me and, in fact, was confusing to all those who already were using that nick-name for their own name. So I quickly re-identified myself as Lyle.


Then there is the uniqueness of being a professional interior designer with more than 20 years of experience practicing under my given name. Only when airlines started enforcing the rule of identification did I begin to create travel documents using my "institutional" name. I remember the akward moment when I received travel documents for a trip to a client's home in Michigan with my name all mixed up. This was after September 11, and clearly those documents would not admit me to the airplane. Thankfully the airline was able to correct the error. Since then, I always make sure every one clearly understands my name. My name is Lyle; it is my given name. The only thing particularly unique is that I am not called by my first name (which I will from now refer to as my "institutional" name).

This rant will probably have no impact upon the institutions which create name records. I am certain that, in these tough economic times, there are issues of far, far greater importance. If perhaps ones own consciousness is raised, as mine has been recently by meeting Hai, the possibility of a future in full recognition of the significance and meaning of names will exist. And maybe, just maybe, an institutional record will be created that fits my name.