Portland Architecture

A "Win-Win" Measure 37 Option?

In an op-ed in Wednesday's Oregonian, John Wallace of Palo Alto-based real estate consulting firm Wallace & Steichen offers a way in which Measure 37, heretofore seen as a potentially fatal uppercut to Oregon's pioneering land use laws, could actually be incorporated into the system more painlessly.

(For those of you new to this, Measure 37 was a ballot measure passed last November which says those who can prove land use laws have decreased the value of their property shall either be compensated by the state or granted exemption from the planning restrictions. I and many people argue not with the compensation, but with the exemption, which in light of cash-strapped state coffers are likely to be granted in lieu of compensation in most successful appeals. It means our land use planning laws are going to be shot full of holes, serving the good of certain individuals over that of the collective citizenry.)

"A natural tension exists between individual property rights and the state's powers to regulate land use," says Wallace, whose firm has been involved in numerous Oregon projects. "But the two should be viewed as more complimentary." Wallace goes on:

"Prior to Measure 37, one city or county resolution effectively could cost...thousands of dollars in property value. Yet local resolutions can increase the worth of private real estate by just as much. So when it comes to the worth of real estate, the government giveth and the government taketh away. By harnessing this essential principle, we can balance the opposing forces in the land-use wars."

Wallace says when land use laws boost property values, local governments should be able to recapture part of that money in tax revenue, which could then be used to compensate owners whose land was adversely affected by land use laws.

I think this idea is very intriguing, but I'm curious what the rest of you think. It sounds like a simple, logical, rational way to solve a big, big problem. But can it be made to work? What are the barriers, and can they be solved? Or is there some massive Achilles' heel I'm not thinking of?

What has seemed so frustrating about Measure 37 is that pass or fail, it didn't solve the issue. As long as those who appreciate sustainable, functioning communities continue to draw breath, its people should fight the notion of anyone being granted exemption to land use laws. But it's indeed true that those laws ought not to unfairly do financial harm to certain merely unlucky landowners.

Wallace is right that we need a solution that satisfies both sides, the individual and the society. Indeed, such phrases as "individual and society" remind us that Measure 37 is a such a hot-button issue because it cuts to the heart of a political and philosophical inquiry that dates back to Aristotle and arguably before. In other words, we need to find a way to compensate M37 claimants without handing over a get-out-of-land-use-free card. And Wallace's simple plan is the only viable one I've heard so far.

Oregon Design Conference Wrapup

I’m a bit tardy in reporting on the rest of the Oregon Design Conference. My previous post was written late Friday morning, when the conference was only about halfway through. But the compelling presentation and discussions continued.

I’d previously mentioned journalist Francis Anderton and Long Now Foundation representative Alexander Rose, whose presentations offered an ideal architectural yin-yang. Anderton’s profession is all about what’s happening in the present, what’s exciting and tells a good story with a sense of immediacy. Rose’s foundation focuses on longer-term thinking in multiple millennia. That’s why the two made an intriguing pair for a breakout discussion session with the audience. After all, architecture more than perhaps any other profession is about both today and many, many tomorrows.

Riffing on Anderton’s previous talk, Rose mentioned the architectural superstars like Koolhaas and Gehry representing mostly just special one-off projects like museums and courthouses. What about the architects who will really solve the world’s problems, like refugee housing?

Commenting from the audience, Yost Grube Hall’s Nells Hall mentioned another example of how the media distorts what is happening in the profession. When the postmodern movement was in full bloom during the 1970s and 80s, he said, there were plenty of architects who continued practicing in a modernist style. But you’d never know it, because the media devoted most of its attention to postmodernism.

Ralph DiNola of Green Building Services also addressed the notion of infinite growth as a model for economics and, by extension, architecture and construction. When are we going to re-examine the unsustainability of the infinite growth template? Anderton mentioned a political organization in Canada called the Work Less party. If you think about it, we all work so hard to collectively produce and consume products and resources. What if we all just slowed down a little? The planet would be in less trouble and we could all catch up with our Netflix lists.

Architect Rick Potestio cited another example of wood-for-the-trees sustainability thinking. One buys a hybrid car that gets better gas mileage, but it’s really the land use patterns that are really driving gasoline consumption.

That evening, former Honolulu mayor Jeremy Harris whipped the ODC crowd into a frenzy. Harris is the mayor many of us in the design community would wish for. He took Honolulu through a visioning process very similar to what Portland mayor Tom Potter has planned – only with one fundamental difference: he had architects leading the way. As a result, Honolulu is today a much more sustainable, livable and economically viable city, its policies guided by citizen input but articulated by architects.

I’m told that yesterday, after the conference, Harris met with Potter at city hall, after much prodding of the latter from the AIA. Just on the outside chance that someone from city government is reading this, let me put things explicity: Mayor Potter, for the love of God, please see the error of your ways in not making architects a guiding hand of the city’s visioning process. It’s not going to succeed without them.

Saturday at the ODC began with a keynote address from Gregg Pasquarelli, co-founding principal of Sharples, Holden, Pasquarelli (better known as SHoP) in New York. Pasquarelli and his firm partners studied at Columbia University at the early 1990s (just down the street from yours truly at NYU) as advanced software tools were beginning to transform the practice. But unlike Frank Gehry, who famously used/uses CATIA (Computer-Aided Three Dimensional Interactive Application; by French Aircraft manufacturer Dassault Systemes and distributed by IBM) and other digital modeling tools to make sculptural exterior shapes of his buildings, SHoP uses it for what Pasquarelli calles “performative design…Design that’s about making things that do things.” In other words, it’s approaching architecture as a kit of parts (to borrow from Sarah Graham’s tram presentation) in which each piece serves a very specific function. The concern with each component is “not the form that it took, but what it accomplished.” As it happens, though, many of SHoP’s efforts have achieved some beautiful forms.

Another thing about this technology-oriented approach to design, Pasquarelli noted, was that it enables architects to bring back the sense of “complex form and ornament…that went out of fashion for most of the 20th Century…What we discovered was that the more you went forward, the more you went back. We realized that we were going back to the master builder. And it got us back to a time when architects had a lot of control on the building site, and responsibility.”

This also applies to the way designs are translated to builders and other partners in the process. “We’re trying to challenge plan, section and elevation,” Pasquarelli said. “To think of something in 3-D, hand it over in 2-D, and then translate it back into 3-D, that’s kind of become obsolete.”

Of course Pasquarelli was armed with a succession of Powerpoint images from his firm’s projects. And they were impressive. Acting as designer and co-developer, the firm renovated a historic brick building in New York’s Meat Packing district (now called the Porter House) and added several upper floors that were cantilevered slightly behind the existing architecture. Moreover, the new addition was completely modern, a striking juxtaposition (clad in black zinc and glass) against the historic existing structure. Pasquarelli cited this as part of the new rules of contextuality: “You don’t make anything like what was built there before.” The designers even have kept the building pigeon-proof (an astonishing feat in New York City) by researching the bird’s “angle of repose” (34 degrees) to make ledges unwelcoming. “And it works!”

Despite SHoP’s focus on technology, Pasquarelli also said, “I want to make it clear: We all draw by hand in our office.” At which point a couple of the elder audience members began to clap.

SHoP is also designing a riverfront park in lower Manhattan that could provide some lessons to Portland. As with our East Bank esplanade, the riverfront site includes an elevated highway overpass. Knowing it couldn’t be removed, SHoP designed a new glass-enclosed space underneath, the ceiling of which mutes traffic noise. I can’t help but wonder about doing something similar with the East Bank overpass, particularly near the Hawthorne Bridge.

Several more presentations continued into the afternoon by architects and others, including Michael Hebberoy, co-owner of the Gotham Tavern, clarklewis restaurant, and Ripe catering. Hebberoy talked about food and architecture working in conjunction to promote community, camaraderie, and beauty. And he’d know—Michael’s restaurants are exquisite. Bob Hastings of Tri-Met talked about the new MAX line for Portland's Bus Mall.

Incidentally, there was only one Portland developer I saw in three days at the conference: Randy Rapaport, the man behind the Belmont Lofts.

The Oregon Design Conference is presented by AIA/Portland, which also is a sponsor of this website. But my writing of these posts was inspired by the vibrancy of ideas that were shared at the conference for three days. Like any profession, architecture is so often mired in frustration and mediocrity. But the Oregon Design Conference offered a spirit of passion and creativity, both from speakers and audience members. Congrats to those who worked very hard—particularly the AIA staff—to make it happen.

ODC? A-O-K

From the rolling hills at Salishan lodge (each with its own golf hole), the Oregon Design Conference continues. So far a gorgeous blue-skied day at the ocean hasn't resulted in too many architects going AWOL to check out the waves.

The late-morning round of lectures included one session with architect Rick Potestio, who talked about the Lair Condominiums in the context of "getting unconventional design through a conventional system", in other words getting a good building built. Apparently part of the recipe is luck, since the Lair benefitted from being just outside the official Lair historic neighborhood guidelines and at the same time also scooted downtown design strictures. But hey, they sure capitalized with a nice building.

The other lecture was about coastal community planning and featured Tim Smith of SERA ARchitects with John Stutesman from Double E Northwest. They focused on a new community being planned called South Beach Village, which seeks to become a green, pedestrian-oriented development in the Lincoln City area. That would certainly be a breath of fresh air considering the eyesore that exists urbanistically up and down most of the Oregon coast. What I'd like to know, though, is how they're going to fit more residents in to Lincoln City and deal with traffic on Highway 101 that's already way too heavy. I'm not an advocate of highway building over mass transit or anything like that, but it when I'm traveling at the Oregon coast it sure would be nice to bypass the crawl of cars going past the Sea Gypsy.

After a delightful buffet lunch of sandwich fixings and chips, the afternoon presentation came from Francis Anderton, who hosts the Los Angeles radio program "DnA: Design and Architecture" and also writes for publications like the New York Times, Dwell and Metropolis. Anderton's talk was about how the media chooses and tells stories, what it covers and why, and how architects can best engage media and their communities.

Born and raised in England but now a long time L.A. resident, Anderton was once asked on a green card application what her contribution would be to the culture and people of the United States. "I'm going to introduce West Coast architecture to Europe," she said. But, as architect David Wark said when introducing her to the audience, she instead has really wound up introducing West Coast architecture to the people of the West Coast.

That's another way of saying, as Anderton did more explicity in her talk later, that architects have not done nearly enough to engage in real public discourse. They aren't running for office very often, and aren't at enough PTA meetings. I'm sure some of the architects out there reading this will beg to differ, and they'll have a point. But I think everybody would agree the profession needs a larger role in shaping communities. I mean, city building or even nation building on a grand scale is all about design. Why should the lawyers always do that?

As an example, Anderton remembered the time of the L.A. riots in 1992 as a "cathartic moment" for local architects, that they were in "almost a euphoric state", with "a palpable sense of idealism" about the opportunity existed to change the city in a positive, meaningful way - without so many strip malls and instead with functional, welcoming spaces that fostered more people to, borrowing from Rodney King, all get along. But instead, the architects essentially lost that struggle, and new strip malls were built over the charred ones. Anderton realized then that too many architects were talking to themselves, "in an echo chamber".

That's when she quit her job editing LA Architect magazine and moved into hosting a mainstream media program about design - to bring the issue into a more central public discourse involving more non architects.

Anderton next went into a kind of how-to guide when it comes to the media's motivations. She talked about how papers and magazines are looking for entertaining stories to tell. "We have to make the story compelling." As an example, she showed a photo of the Portland Building as an example of "facade architecture" that gets a lot of press despite being only skin-deep, with common and even oppressive interior spaces. Similar case with Thom Mayne's Cal Trans building in her hometown.

With respect to the culture of "starchitects", designers who have gained big fame, Anderton said, "The media is very attracted to strong personalities, a compelling theme that transcends, 'I built a house. Let me show it to you.'" She cited Philippe Starck, who has a theatrical personality and tries to make everything he designs sexy. And Rem Koolhaas and his "pop sociology, with his graphs & charts".

Media, she said, "are not necessarily leaders", but are merely "reflecting the zeitgeist". Well, I never!!

Anderton also talked about sustainability and green architecture, warning us of the inevitable tipping point, in which the media's current fascination with green design will become passe. "It's only a matter of time," she said. Her recommendation was that when pitching projects to the press, to make it "green plus something else. What's going to make it special?" And as a writer I'd definitely second that.

Finally, she urged architects to try harder, especially in the public discourse, to abandon architectural jargon that isolates them from regular people. "Jargon is meaningless to everyone except other architects. It needs to be communication in a language everybody understands."

With that, I bid you adios, adieu, sionara and oodbyegay for now.

Live From Salishan: It's the Oregon Design Conference!

I'm writing this from the lobby of Salishan resort, where the first full day of the Oregon Design Conference is underway.

The first presentation this morning came from Alexander Rose of the Long Now Foundation, a nonprofit organization devoted to longer-term thinking. Or, as he puts it, "Why long term responsibility matters and what we're doing or not doing to preserve things."

By way of example, Rose mentioned a case at the Oxford University library where some oak beams dating to the 14th century needed replacement. But because most of Europe had been deforested, it was going to be a huge problem to find the right variety of native oak to replace it. As it happened, though, the people at Oxford had anticipated the problem way back in the 1300s. They planted a grove of oak trees specifically intended to provide wood for the library centuries down the road.

Rose also talked about a Shinto shrine in Japan that is over a thousand years old, but is actually rebuilt every 20 years in order to keep it tip-top but also to ensure that every generation is adept at passing down the knowledge of how it's built. "Without this level of intellectual passing on," he said, "things fade away."

Also this morning I attended a presentation by Don Stastny of Stastny Brun, a firm that has managed over 50 design competitions for memorials and museums, including the memorials in Oklahoma City to commemorate the McVeigh bombing there and near Shanksville, Pennsylvania in commemoration of Flight 93.

"Memorials carry certain messages," he said. Those messages might be coherent or they might be hidden. But they're around for a long time. And memorialization is also inherent in a lot of the work that we as architects do."

Stastny also said the fundamental question in memorial building is, "Is it a memorial to death or life?" The answer may come from an inscription at the Oklahoma memorial: "We come here to remember those who were killed, those who survived, and those changed forever. May all who leave here know the impact of violence. May this memorial offer comfort, strength and security."

At the site of the Flight 93 memorial, Stastny remembered walking around the crash area even a long time after the disaster and finding tiny stray bits of fabric and other detritus from the plane and its victims. This memorial is actually a 2000-acre park, and as a result, Stastny said, "This will be a memorial that's constantly changing as the site changes. It relies on the rhythm of the land and seasons."

Perhaps most interesting to me was a museum Stastny Brun was involved with for the Warm Springs tribes in central Oregon. Stastny had suggested putting the word "museum" at the entrance, but was told by the tribal elders that their language didn't have the word in its lexicon. "Because we don't keep our things," Stastny remembered being told. "We give them away." But they had still come up with a word for the front of the museum: "Twanat". It translates as, "This is the way we are, and this is our life."

After the museum was completed, Stastny remembered a member of the tribe telling him, "This is an Indian building." When asked why, she said, "Because I can see the way it was made." Concluded Stastny, "The making of the thing is as important as what the final piece is."

Rapaport High on The Clinton

Ever since the Belmont Lofts opened a couple years ago to almost universal acclaim, architecture enthusiasts have been waiting to see how the next partnership between developer Randy Rapaport and Holst Architecture would manifest itself. They built the best building since Allied Works' 2281 Glisan building. Will their follow-up be a hit too?

Recently I met with Rapaport, a uniquely energetic and idiosynchratic 46 year old former child psychologist who's as passionate about skateboarding, avant garde cinema and indie rock as he is architecture. (Despite the colorful description, don't be fooled into thinking he isn't a real pro at real estate developing.) Randy gave me the scoop on The Clinton, which will break ground soon at Southeast 26th and Division. It looks somewhat similar to the Belmont Lofts, with its incorporation of wood and glass. But The Clinton stands as its own work as well. It might even be a step up.

“We wanted to do something beautiful,” Rapaport told me. “I gave John [Holmes of Holst] keywords like randomness, glass, matching materials at vertical and horizontal plances. A piece of art: that’s what I wanted. The biggest intention for all the work I do is to support creativity, whether it’s in music, architecture or anything else. The ability to be creative is richest when you have a sense of presence.”

How many developers do you know who talk like that?

Rapaport says despite its being a mixed-use condo (with retail on the ground floor) priced for the high-end market, this is a civic building. “The civic quality comes from the transluscent floor-to-ceiling green glass panels, that are randomly placed,” he says. “Behind each panel there’s the ability to backlight it separately. So the building generates a randomly lit, Mondrian-inspired painting that constantly changes.”

The Clinton has not been without its controversy. Neighbors have fought the moving of an historic home  on the site, and they seem to have the common high-density fears of traffic and tall buildings. But if they can’t get on board with Randy Rapaport and the extra passion he shows for high-caliber design, no one is going to make them happy.

As always, only the completed building will really bring the chance for a final verdict. But based on the track records of those involved, The Clinton seems very promising indeed. Don't stop thinking about tomorrow, Randy.

Thomas Hacker's Eliot Center

Recently, after reading Alison Ryan’s Oregonian article about the new Thomas Lamb Eliot Center at First Unitarian Church in downtown Portland, I spoke with the architect, Thomas Hacker of Thomas Hacker Architects, about the design.

The Eliot Center will consist of several classrooms as part of the church’s ongoing outreach, and there will be an inner courtyard area uniting the space as well as the adjacent church architecture. Hacker explains:

"The whole idea was to unite this whole educational complex, to connect these classrooms and other rooms to the existing areas that they already have. Those were built in three different eras and they’re not aligned properly. It’s a kind of puzzle. This design hopes to unify that with a central courtyard space, and all of these education rooms are revolving around that. Because of all the level changes, there is a stairway and lobby area that makes those connections both for handicapped access and a stair connection. The idea here is that the overall ed facilities for the church are brought together and updated with this one wing. It’s going to make a big difference."

The building’s exterior features alternating vertical brick and glass strips that tie in with the original sanctuary’s windows. The Eliot Center’s upper floor is also made with class. Hacker again:

“Which would allow the original to retain its character without being mimicked. That’s what drove the idea of a very transparent upper floor. It has these strong piers of brick (true bearing wall construction) and above that it moves to a column structure. It’s transparent and it reads in a line that is less massive, in keeping with the lines of the existing church. And those windows open onto classrooms, which will bring a lot of light into the space.”

Along with the Urban Center at Portland State University, the Eliot Center will give Hacker’s firm a real presence in the downtown area that nicely compliments the host of libraries and a few other buildings scattered throughout the metro area. More importantly, this seems to be a work of modern architecture that beautifully integrates with its historic neighbor. As with Holst Architecture’s Apple store on NW 23rd Avenue, it’s a case where not every modern building would fit so nicely here, but with nimble design prowess comes triumph. Hacker’s buildings in particular have always been a warm, emotive kind of modernism with a real sense of craft and bountiful natural light. Seems like the Eliot Center will be no different.

Architects Without Borders Chapter Continues Outreach

Several days ago I'd intended to write a preview post about an open house held earlier this week by the local Architects Without Borders chapter, which has in the past sent volunteers to southeast Asia (after the tsunami) and the Mississippi Gulf (after the hurricane). But I got distracted and let the meeting come and go.

However, co-organizer John Blumthal of Yost Grube Hall was kind enough to provide this summary:

We had a great meeting Tuesday.  More than sixty people showed up, with more than half of these being first-time contacts with AWB.  Attendees included representatives of both David Wu and Earl Blumenauer's offices, many Portland firms, and both local architecture schools.  Steve Claborne, Program Operations Manager for Mercy Corps, gave the group a wide-ranging description of the needs and opportunities for development assistance and disaster recovery aid around the world. Angelo Radich, AWB-OR President, provided an overview of AWB-OR activities in the past year and of the prospects ahead of us.  We then had an opportunity to mingle and talk, and I was very encouraged by the fact that nobody headed for the door, but instead numerous conversation groups sprung up around the room as people sought out the AWB volunteers who had been to Sri Lanka and the Mississippi coast, and the AWB Steering Committee members who have managed organizational and support efforts here in Portland, to learn more and discuss specifics.

It's this dialog that we intend to continue next Wednesday, the 19th, matching individuals and teams to specific projects and initiatives. We're inviting everyone who attended the Tuesday session (as well as our existing supporters) to a meeting next Wednesday at the AIA office (315 SW Fourth Ave.) at 5:30pm to get involved in specific initiatives and projects of AWB.

I assume those making first-time visits to the chapter will also be welcome, so don't be afraid to drop by. Meanwhile, congratulations and thanks to all those who have devoted their time and efforts to making Oregon's AWB chapter one that can have a real impact.

System Error: Historic Landmark Commission and Holst's Apple Store

In Thursday’s Oregonian, Fred Leeson reported that the proposed design for a new Apple Computer store on 23rd Avenue by Holst Architecture is being affected by stictures from the Historic Landmark Commission.

Leeson’s article focused principally one whether Apple will be allowed to incorporate its iconic logo into the façade. But what piqued my interest was the fact that the Historic Landmarks Commission (whose recommendation precedes the city's more binding design review process), pressed Holst and its client to abandon their planned stainless steel exterior skin in favor of stone. The thinking, as I understand it, was that stainless steel was incompatible with the historic architectural fabric of the neighborhood.

Based on what I’ve learned so far, I think the Historic Landmarks Commission is overstepping its bounds. The reason the HLC was created was to protect historic architecture. And that’s a very commendable mission. Indeed we do have a responsibility to preserve as much of the old buildings in Northwest and the Alphabet District.

But it’s another matter entirely for the HLC to affect material and other design choices of a contemporary building that has every right to be there. For virtually any building it’s best for materials and forms to tie in with the surrounding architecture. At the same time, though, any vibrant urban fabric is comprised of many different buildings of varying styles and periods. If you'll pardon the pun, I'm not sure the rules about what is or isn't compatible should be written in stone.

The Apple store, in my view, would have been more compelling clad in stainless steel. Holst is an exceptionally talented firm, and perhaps more than any other corporation, Apple has very sophisticated design instincts. Why not let them do their best? I’d even venture to say the historic buildings in that neighborhood are architecturally compelling enough to more than hold their own.

Furthermore, who’s to say that Victorian residential architecture must be the standard? All kinds of architecture are represented in that district already, and that’s been the case for generations.

Besides, if Holst’s Apple store is so out of character with the neighborhood, why is its case so different from Allied Works’ nearby 2281 Glisan building? That project, part of the recent Street of Eames tour, is among the best Portland architecture of the last quarter-century. Would the Historic Landmarks Commission have preferred Brad Cloepfil’s gorgeous building have a white picket fence around it? How about a pitched roof with shingles?

Admittedly, for all I or anyone knows, the Apple store will still turn out great. I’ve heard the imported Italian stone now being specified for the façade has an appealingly luminous quality. And normally I wouldn’t question the efforts of various design-review commissions, which in principal I support as contributing to our urban fabric a unifying sense of place. But there are always exceptions to every rule, and in the case of this project I’d argue the HLC may be doing not just Holst and Apple, but all of Portland architecture, a real disservice.

Lair'd With Design

Recently I made a first-time visit to the Lair Condominiums, which were designed by a longtime favorite local architect of mine, Rick Potestio.

Regular readers may remember Rick from the Q&A that I did with him in February. So...Rick again? Hey, the guy has a great project out, and I'd be remiss in not giving it the attention it deserves. Any other local architect doing this caliber of work I'm happy to write about multiple times as well. (Holst, are those Clinton condo renderings ready yet? Colab, where for art thou?)

Developed and built by local contractor Don Tankersley, the Lair project was one of the last Rick designed before he joined Mahlum Architects a few months ago. (He led a 2-3 person firm previously.) It’s just south of downtown in the Lair Hill neighborhood (hence the name), near where Southwest Third Avenue curves toward the Ross Island Bridge ramp, but on a sleepy residential dead-end street.

From the moment I stepped out of the car, the Lair stood out as a very impressive piece of architecture. In fact, I think it’s up there with the Belmont Lofts among the very best residential buildings in Portland of recent memory.

The Lair consists of 13 units varying roughly from about 500-1500 square feet. Situated on a fairly steep hillside, it has a communal driveway in the middle that leads downward to a series of compact stalls, with the common space able to double as a courtyard. Two units connect like a bridge over the driveway entrance, unifying the two-sided complex and preserving the integrity and continuity of its front façade, where floor-to-ceiling glass windows extend gently from a Richard Meier-esque white shell.

Rick’s a proud paisan, and the classical sense of proportion and soulful play with forms seems faintly Italian. At the same time, the Lair’s incorporation of wood in its exterior and interior finishes is very much in Northwest tradition of modernism. I also see craftsman-like touches reminiscent of renowned local architect Thomas Hacker, under whom Potestio studied at the University of Oregon.

Watch out for this project at the next AIA design awards ceremony and maybe in a design magazine or two. This is precisely the kind of high-quality residential design we’ve sought in burgeoning higher-density neighborhoods but so far have scarcely achieved.

Gragg on Gragg

Recently I conducted by email a short interview with Oregonian architecture critic Randy Gragg, who has been on leave since last fall at Harvard University as part of a Loeb Fellowship:

How has being away from Portland affected your feelings/thoughts about the city?

Amazingly, I haven’t thought too much about Portland. I was really ready for a change. With the shift in city hall politically, an era came to an end. And whatever era is next hasn’t really formed – at least beyond a few new players grandstanding on the idea that the old era sucked. So it was the perfect time to leave. It’s clearly going to take a while for the city’s leadership – public and private – to recognize any kind of legacy it wants to build.

As well, I’d say my feelings about the placce have been influenced by so many people out here who have constructed a certain mythology about Portland and Oregon. They imagine us as some kind of planning nirvana. They have a hard time, for instance, believing we passed Measure 37. “Is there any hope for land use planning in Oregon now?” I was recently asked by Alan Altschuler, Harvard’s Design School dean. We are held up as the idol of “Smart Growth” or the evil of the property rights crowd. These views are so pervasive, we’ve come to believe them ourselves. We’ve forgotten the very specific historic conditions that led to the land use program that are in line but also against both those ideologies. The seeds of Measure 37 and things like Portland’s thriving farmers’ markets were both fertilized in Senate Bill 100. Now the economics of farming and forestry has changed. The rise of the suburbs shifted the sociology and politics. And, so we have a hybrid system in which Oregon’s unique historic roots have been shaped by national and international economics. Seeing how Massachussetts has developed WITHOUT our planning system has made so many things clearer. For Oregon, Portland and the Willamette Valley, the choices will be either to continue blending into the American landscape or finding a way to renew and update our more distinct historical impulses so that we  – and the next generation – can continue to enjoy what makes the place so great. A sense of history and of possibility has always played out in the Oregon landscape. For Oregon to be Oregon, you can’t have one without the other.

What have been the best highlights of the Loeb fellowship and Harvard?

The Loeb is just a damned fine deal. You can do whatever you want for a year, situated at one of the world’s great universities. It’s also overwhelming, as many have said, “like trying to take a sip of water out of a fire hose.” Then there’s the scary part: leaving. As the fellowship’s leadership likes to say, “You’re only requirement in this program comes after you are done: to go out and change the world.”

My own exploration here really has been about fundamentals. I’ve taken courses in landscape ecology and landscape history, in religion and public policy, food policy and, strangest of all, “mobilizing group resources.” This latter course tossed 120 Kennedy School of Government students from about 20 countries into a room with a psychiatrist as a facilitator where we then tried to teach ourselves about “leadership.” It was a complete headtrip. I mean, many of these people openly talk about someday running their countries. Mentally and emotionally, it dominated my entire first semester. But I learned a lot, some of which I might have preferred not to.

Of course, I experienced a lot of architectural ideas. But as one Portland architect once described me (in a good observation intended as a deep jab), I’m “more of a sociologist with a fondness for the built environment.” (So, too, I would argue, are the designers of the most enduring architecture, but that’s another discussion.) So the Graduate School of Design was not the center of my experience.

What are your initial impressions of some of the projects finishing up while you've been away, like the art museum, Eliot Tower, or the first two South Waterfront projects?

Well, don’t want to tip the hand too much on future articles I might write, but I’ll say the museum’s north wing turned out better than I expected (particularly on the cheapskate budget and breakneck timeline), even with too many dead-ends in the gallery circulation and one inexcusable missed opportunity to create one of the city’s greatest rooms. The Eliot is better than expected: a beefy boy of building who thankfully found a very good tailor for his suit. So too, The Meriwether – 2,000 square feet fatter than the typical floor plates of the “Vancouver pin towers” it was supposedly modeled on, but not so bad. Let’s see how the equally husky but taller John Ross looks and, then, the slab tower by Hacker going up after that. But, hey, for capitalist realist architecture, we could do a lot worse. You oughta see the condo piles they build in Boston!

How do you like Boston and Cambridge?

Other than getting lost all the time –or maybe because of it – I like both a lot. Boston is the only downtown in the country that has more corners than Portland. But they aren’t on a grid. It’s more like an Islamic city. And so moving through it is a constant discovery as you rarely travel the same way twice. Honestly, I can still get lost going from my apartment to the Harvard Yard if I don’t take my usual route.

I also realize how much I miss being in a city with a major university. Smart, weird people create audiences for smart, weird things. I’m neither that smart nor that weird, but I like being around people who are because I constantly learn from the extremes of their interests. An example: music. The symphony here is amazing. I’d never heard an entire evening of 20th century symphonic music before. The jazz scene is amazing, not so much bop, as bop is bop, but big band. All these Berkeley players teaming up to play one another’s compositions. (They do covers of Julius Hemphill for crissakes!) It’s a rich synthesis of African and Anglo-European traditions. I’m going to need music detox when I leave here.

I’m also really going to miss cops who could care less about bicyclists breaking rules. I won’t miss honking drivers. I’ve seen pregnant women walking in crosswalks here get charged by cars driven BY women. Bostonians are easily the friendliest most giving strangers I’ve ever encountered in an American city, but behind the wheel, they grow fangs, horns and tails.

Architecturally, I feel like I’m in an older, larger version of Portland – capital-C conservative. (Lovejoy’s and Pettygrove’s coinflip to name Portland rightfully should have fell the other way.) But in the fall, the city will get a jolt in its self-image with the new Institute for Contemporary Art. I’m anxious to see in 10 years or so what it will have meant for both architecture and contemporary art. It’s a significant raising of the bar that Portland is nowhere near taking. I hope it works out. But my little taste of the city leaves me imagining many ways in which it might not.

Revolving and Evolving at 2nd & Salmon

Earlier today I attended a lunchtime panel discussion that was part of the daylong “Revolve-Evolve” symposium offered by the Oregon chapter of the American Society of Landscape Architects. The discussion was titled “Our Stake in Designing Portland’s Future”.

Moderated by OPB radio host April Baer, the panel included Carol Mayer Reed, partner at landscape firm Mayer/Reed; Dennis Wilde of Gerding/Edlen Development; Jan Semenza, a board member of the City Repair Project; Portland Development Commission special projects director Robert Alexander; Portland State University urban studies professor, historian and author Carl Abbott; and Don Rood, partner of multidisciplinary design firm The Felt Hat.

The aim was to look at the progressive history of Portland planning, with its achievement of healthier, more sustainable urban environments, and explore the challenges ahead through that prism. Are we resting on our laurels? Who will lead the next generation?

Here are some miscellaneous quotes I jotted down:

PSU’s Carl Abbot, answering an opening question from Baer about whether we should be optimistic or fearful about Portland’s future, said, “There’s really a generation of students I see thinking about sustainable issues in ways we never did.” Maybe PSU students are not representative of the overall societal temperature, but Abbot said he felt encouraged.

Abbot also said (and I’m paraphrasing here) that the challenge for a city like Portland is not in promoting sustainable design but its civic culture. It reminds me of a time a couple years ago when I went to my first US Green Building Council conference in Austin. That afternoon I came out of the conference center feeling energized about how sustainable principles were really going to amount to something big, a real transformation of the built environment. Then I got into a cab, and as the driver and I got talking, he asked what conference I had been at. I told him it was about green building and he said, “What’s green building?”

And this is something that Carol Mayer Reed stressed later in the discussion, that too often the design community insulates itself other than when it’s on the job somewhere. “We need to reach out more, to go outside our own community,” she said. “I think we need to focus on common topics. I think Portland feels like a foreign place to people in other parts of the state. We’ve got to change that.”

Don Rood talked about how designers lend a point of view to political and community deliberations by asking different kinds of questions. He joked, “How many designers does it take to change a light bulb? We ask, ‘Does it need to be a light bulb?’” Sometimes I think that tendency gets on the nerves of non-architects who are looking only for practical, defined thinking. But it’s a good exercise to go through, and it’s one that is crucial for designers to be able to create the best places and spaces.

Taking an audience member’s question, Wilde was asked about the challenge of making room for public buildings (libraries, schools) in new urban neighborhoods. It was a great question, because the two areas where Wilde’s company has built their mixed-use residential, retail office buildings—the Pearl and South Waterfront—are both lacking in those very things. “I think our biggest failure in South Waterfront is creating public amenities,” Wilde told the audience. I really admire how forthright he was about this. But at the same time, it’s not the responsibility of a real estate developer to spearhead this kind of city building. Shouldn’t the local government be on top of this? Oh, I forgot—they can’t even keep open the schools we have.

Semenza, of City Repair and PSU’s Department of Community Health, was quite the orator. Where other speakers spoke softly into the microphone, he brought impassioned oratory. It somehow felt very inspiring and mildly embarrassing at the same time. Which is probably exactly what Semenza was going for. He talked of America spending more on health care than any other country but having millions of uninsured, and used that as a kind of metaphor for larger issues of planning and community building. “We may be comfortable, but we’re not happy,” he said. “People want gathering places, not urban landscapes that isolate people. There’s a real need there.”

One final thought to this already lengthy post, and I apologize for it being a sober one: The Revolve-Evolve symposium was held downtown at the World Trade Center complex. Is it just me, or do they really need to change that name? I mean, it was weird enough when New York’s twin towers were standing, kind of silly even. Now it feels disrespectful. Not only is the ground at Ground Zero sacred, but so is the name.

Oregon Design Conference

On April 20-22 at Salishan Resort on the Oregon coast, AIA Oregon will be hosting the 2006 Oregon Design Conference. I attended the last biennial edition of the conference in 2004 and had a great time. With that in mind, I wanted to pass on some information about this year's version.

The highlight of the conference will be four keynote speakers: Gregg Pasquarelli, co-founding principal with SHoP Architects of New York; Frances Anderson, host of the "DnA: Design and Architecture" radio show in Los Angeles; former Honolulu mayor Jeremy Harris; and Alexander Rose, director of San Francisco's Long Now Foundation.

In particular, I'm excited to have Pasquarelli in Oregon again. A few years ago, as many will remember, SHoP was a finalist for the tram, losing out to Angelil/Graham. I had been very impressed with their proposal, which included a terminus for the tram in South Waterfront that Pasquarelli likened to Rome's famous Spanish Steps. The rendering looked great, and I was kind of rooting for them. A couple years later I interviewed Pasquarelli for a Metropolis story about architects who develop or co-develop their own projects. He told me then that he'd love for SHoP to get a commission in Portland, and from time to time one hears rumors of such. Hopefully some of the connections Greg makes with locals at the conference will bear fruit.

It's also worth noting the location. Salishan was designed in the mid-1960s by celebrated Oregon architect John Storrs. Just recently the resort underwent an impressive renovation that's worth seeing. (The only thing I don't like is how Salishan now calls itself a "spa & golf resort". It used to just be "Salishan Resort", nice and simple. I think it's a little undignified for Salishan to now start putting its amenities on the letterhead.) In addition, the more picturesque and expansive setting is very peaceful, and that sets a nice mood at the conference. There's a sense of idealism floating in the air, not pie-in-the-sky optimism, but an inspiration to go out there and do good work.

It must be said that the Oregon Design Conference is presented by the AIA, which is also a sponsor of this blog. But I'm writing this post because I had a great time there last time, and also because I think it's essential for members of the profession to take collective stock of the state of design where they live and practice. Furthermore, because good design is always under threat from budgets, clients and other constraints, its proponents share a collective responsibility to stand up for not only their lot, but, in a sense, everyone's.

For those who can't make the conference, I intend to write a couple of blog posts from there, so stay tuned.

Entering Skylab's Orbit

I’ve been a fan of architect Jeff Kovel and his firm, Skylab, for years. Kovel is probably known best for designing and co-founding Doug Fir, the East Burnside restaurant and club whose modernist log-cabin aesthetic has graced many a magazine article – and deservedly so. But there’s more to Skylab than Doug Fir.

Originally from the New York area, Kovel studied at Cornell University’s prestigious architecture school and got his start in Portland at Architropolis, the firm behind Lenny Kravitz’s house as well as several hotel and condo projects in Las Vegas and elsewhere. Kovel co-founded Skylab with an Architropolis colleague, but then took sole leadership of the firm after she left to work with Kravitz on his own design company.

Scanning the Skylab website, you’ll find a fascinating array of projects. Believe it or not, even Barbie has been one of Kovel’s clients. For Mattel Toys, Skylab designed the ‘Dream House’, a full-size mockup of a modern home for everyone’s favorite doll at an industry trade show. Skylab also designed the Nike Studio at 255, a small gallery in New York devoted to the shoemaker’s most exclusive campaigns. Also for Nike, for the 2005 NBA All-Star Game in Denver, Skylab transformed a 6,000-square-foot warehouse into a massive showroom and experiential gallery for the new Air Jordan line, in celebration of its 20th anniversary.

Kovel is also interesting in a professional sense in that his firm often acts as its own developer, initiating design-build projects as a way of directing what kind of architecture the firm wants to take on. This topic has long been a passion of mine. I wish more architects would initiate their own projects.

  Looking towards new and recent work, Skylab is still designing single-family homes, with the Metcalf spec house occupying one of the last vacant lots in the West Hills.  The Anderson Cabin in White Salmon, Washington (across the Columbia from Hood River) will combine sleek lines and hard angles with an iconic wind turbine generating power for the home.

Another upcoming project is a 15th Floor lounge in the Meier & Frank building (in partnership with SERA Architects) as it is converted partially into an upscale hotel.

And continuing the firm’s restaurant-designing pedigree, Skylab also recently completed Sinju restaurant, a gem that will recall Doug Fir but in a more strictly modern manner.

Skylab is also entering the multifamily residential housing boom with the Linnton Lofts, the renderings of which look extraordinarily impressive. One can only assume it’s just a matter of time before Kovel and company are designing either infill condo projects or, dare I say it, even larger-scale work in the Pearl, West End, or South Waterfront. Are you reading this, developers? Skylab is unquestionably among the handful of truly first-rate design firms in the city. Even if they have to be paired with a larger firm to get in on a big condo project, I can’t stress enough how much Skylab is just crying out to be given the chance to do something big.