Portland Architecture

A conversation with Brad Cloepfil

Brad Cloepfil (image courtesy Allied Works)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

After forming in 1994 and then gaining local and national attention in the latter half of the '90s with projects like the Maryhill Overlook and especially the Wieden + Kennedy headquarters, Allied Works Architecture and founding architect Brad Cloepfil have amassed a broad portfolio of exceptional structures ranging from art museums to houses, university buildings to animation studios.

Combining a highly refined, almost Louis Kahn-like sense of rigor and materials with Cloepfil's Oregon-bred notion of buildings rooted in landscape, Allied has won acclaim and occasionally experienced a bit of controversy for high-profile projects such as the Museum of Arts and Design on New York's Columbus Circle, the Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis, the Booker T. Washington High School for the Performing & Visual Arts in Dallas, and the Caldera Arts Center in rural central Oregon. Last year the Clyfford Still Museum in Denver brought some of the best reviews of Cloepfil's career.

If there is one frustration to Allied's portfolio from a Portland perspective, it's that the most celebrated local architect and firm of this generation has done relatively little here. Today the magnificent Wieden + Kennedy building and the 2281 Glisan building are, other than a sprinkling of houses and some restaurants, the only completed works. That was true when I profiled Cloepfil in the New York Times ten years ago, and remains so today. But whenever talk of potential new landmarks comes up, particularly cultural ones like a new Portland Art Museum building or a new sympny hall, I think of Allied Works.

Wieden + Kennedy building (photo by Sally Schoolmaster)

But things are changing with regard to local projects, just as the economy seems to be lifting most architects' boats after a long recession. Besides staying busy with projects beyond our shores, like the National Music Centre of Canada in Calgary, Cloepfil and company have designed the Pacific Northwest College of Art's renovation of the historic 511 Broadway, an early-20th century federal building. Allied co-created the Vancouver Connector, which (budget-willing) will cap Interstate 5 for several blocks and restitch the city's downtown core decades after it was severed by the freeway. And recently the firm unveiled renderings for a new tasting room at Sokol Blosser Winery, in the pastoral hills of Yamhill County near Dundee.

This week Cloepfil sat down to discuss the firm's present and future.

Portland Architecture: What are you working on now? What's occupying your time from day to day?

Cloepfil: It’s nuts. I’ll give you the quick survey. We’re working with Royal Tichelaar Makkum, the glaze people in Amsterdam who did the terra cotta glazing for 2 Columbus Circle, on glazes for the National Music Centre of Canada.

Then we’re also doing a new U.S. embassy in Mozambique, as part of the GSA’s Design Excellence program. We’re working with YGH Architecture on that. We’re just right in schematic design. Flew over there mid-December. It’s a whole new building, ten-acre site in Maputo, on the water. It’s challenging, both as project type and process. We’re used to working with private nonprofits, one of the best clients you can get. It’s good for us. It makes you realize how sheltered you’ve been. It’s just really different, really fun. We are enjoying that immensely, because it’s so new.

National Music Centre of Canada (rendering coutesy MIR and Allied Works)

We submitted for a competition I can’t tell you about and it’s looking good. So we’re in touch about that. We just got a new house to do in Bridgehampton, New York. We just signed that agreement. There’s the Spaulding Paolozzi Center, the architecture school for Clemson University. It’s controversial: contemporary architecture in a historic context is something we seem to be drawn to. It’s really kind of thrilling.

I also just reviewed some of the finishes at Sokol Blosser Winery, and we’re doing a walk through at Catlin Gabel School on Thursday. We’re working on a show of the concept models and drawings. A publisher wants to publish the catalog.

And with 511 Broadway, the firm is finally doing a major building in Portland again

It’s exciting that PNCA is moving forward. That was such a particular little project, 511 Broadway, finding a key to make new interventions in the old: modest but powerful. It’s refreshing to have some work in Portland again.

511 Broadway (images courtesy Allied Works)

Being an old-building renovation or re-imagination, 511 also has some parallels with Allied’s most acclaimed project here, the Wieden + Kennedy headquarters.

Yes, it’s that process of what can we do to make this building feel like it was touched by the 21^st century.

In both cases I feel like the projects reveal a particular talent you have: the art of taking away, of carving a more human, open space out of an earlier generation’s design.

I would say so. With W+K we cut a hole in the middle over five stories and brought it back together. It’s weaving in light and bringing in circulation. I think there’s lots of opportunity for the 511 building in that same way.

Speaking of PNCA, what do you make of a former employee of yours, Thomas Robinson, getting a commission to design the school’s first residential building? Is there an Allied Works trickle-down effect in Portland?

That’s exciting, isn’t it? Thomas is enormously talented. So that makes sense. I think that’s fantastic. Practically all the design firms in Portland are spin-offs from Nike and Wieden + Kennedy anyway. That’s good. That’s how design culture gets built.

Has what you do from day to day as an architect changed over time as the firm has become more prominent?

Sure it has. I still do charcoal sketches, thank God. I still initiate all the projects. I’m still intimately involved in the work. It’s just it’s gotten bigger and more diverse. I’ve done two books in the last four yeas; now I’m doing another book. It’s just the scope of considerations is bigger. I just travel a lot more than I used to. I think that’s the key. As you mature, you manage more. We’re looking for some kind of managing partner. I’m hoping when we find that person I can loop back a bit.

Catlin Gabel School Creative Arts Center (renderings courtesy Allied Works)

What do you believe is the essence of your talent as an architect?

[Points to concept sketches pinned to the office wall.] It’s making the work. It’s the conceptual beginnings and it’s the rigor to follow through on the details. I think the success of Allied Works is the culture that has been created here with people like Dan Koch and Chelsea Grassinger, Kyle Lommen, Chris Bixby, and Brent Linden. There’s an intensely rigorous and thoughtful pursuit of the design ideas at every single phase. I think it distinguishes our work. For a while, it was me having to create that culture. Now it’s just here. It’s exciting. These [pointing to the drawings] are some of the most sophisticated things we’ve done. My efforts still go into starting the buildings and a lot goes now into the strategy of getting them built. It’s political, it’s economic.

When I won the St. Louis commission, for our first museum, there was a dinner afterwards in Emmy Pulitzer’s summerhouse. It’s a screened summerhouse filled with Picasso and Monet and Ellsworth Kelly. It’s incredible. Richard Serra was there at the dinner, and I heard him tell Pulitzer about how to get his work done: he could see his creative work was the whole process. I realized you have to take full responsibility for getting your work built. There’s a lot of primadonnas in our profession: “Here’s my design, it’s $120 a square foot, call me when you get the money raised.” For me it’s just the opposite. When you get one of these commissions you have to take responsibility for getting it executed. A lot of it has to do with editing it down. The politics and strategy part is enormous. I’d say that’s what takes more of my time than I’d have thought of. The politics and the strategy are bigger and more complex.

Architecture makes you patient because everything takes so long. These significant projects, take five, maybe seven years. Even Sokol Blosser is a two, two and a half year project.

Let’s talk about the Sokol Blosser winery project. It’s not Portland but it’s within an easy drive, in Yamhill County.

The brief was really just pretty elemental in the beginning: just a tasting room. Michael Kelly Brown [the winery’s director of sales and marketing] had managed Bluehour; I think that's how the intro happened. But then we revisited their master plan and tried to figure out where to site it, and what the relationship between the buildings would be. Once we established the idea of this building rising from the earth and this carved language of lawns and terraces moving up the hill, then it was exploring the idea of the tasting room.

Sokol Blosser winery (renderings courtesy Allied Works)

How does yours differ from a regular tasting room?

So many of them are these empty cavernous spaces with a bar in the corner. They’re not very inviting places. So we tried to scale the building so there are lots of smaller spaces to occupy: a kitchen, a cellar room. It’s slightly under 5,000 square feet, I think. I don’t think there’s a tasting room like it, and I mean that sincerely. It’s all wood. It’s wood boards on the siding that have been milled on the exterior, and cedar on the inside. It’s kind of a carved monolith of wood.

It reminds me a little of Peter Zumthor’s Therme Valls baths in Switzerland, only with wood instead of stone.

I can see that: the labyrinthine quality, and the unity of the mass.

What types of projects would you like to do in the years ahead?

I don’t have an imaginary list. It’s just new things. It doesn’t have to mean a new building type. It can mean exploring technologies or new means of construction. We’re doing amazing things on the Clemson project where the beams become structural light fixtures on the studios. They’re perforated structural walls that diffuse light into the studios. We began thinking about that on the [Clyfford] Still Museum. This building has tremendous sun exposure in Charleston. And Sokol Blosser, being on that site, it’s light frame construction, something I haven’t done much. It’s more surface and shade driven. Sometimes it’s new typologies, but not always. It’s just new opportunities. To make something new, the responsibility lies with you. I’d be perfectly happy to keep making art spaces as long as we could create a dialog.

I think we’re doing the strongest work we’ve ever done. I feel that absolutely. There’s a maturity to the investigation.

Were you frustrated by the reception to the Museum of Arts & Design? Except for the late great critic Ada Louise Huxtable and a few others, nobody seemed to review the building that was there. Instead, there seemed to be a lot of reviews acting as hand-wringing over whether Edward Durell Stone’s original building at 2 Columbus Circle should have been preserved.

She actually talked about the building and what we did. Otherwise, it was people using that building as a platform for their position. But I loved Ada, and I like critics like Blair Kamin in Chicago. He actually talks about architecture.

Museum of Arts & Design (image courtesy American Craft Council)

What do you make of the changes Portland has undergone since you were practicing here in the late ‘90s?

I think it’s so much better. It’s interesting. Ten years ago if you’d asked me about the pearl I’d be extremely critical. You look at the Pearl now, the whole rail yards, between the park spaces and the street life, the scale and even the character of the buildings…I have a place in Chelsea in New York, and I walk down Sixth and Seventh Avenues a lot. The quality of architecture in the Pearl is so far above average and so far above what 99 percent of what cities are doing, including New York in many cases. Can it be better? Of course. but there’s a richness to it. I think the Pearl an enormously successful neighborhood. I compare it to the Upper West Side, sixty blocks built in about 20 years. It’s like that. As time comes and it wears and weathers and becomes more diverse, I think it becomes wildly successful. I think that’s a huge thing for Portland. And I think design culture in the country has become much better.

Who are some of the local firms and architects you admire?

Well, Works Partnership, I love their work. I like Gene Sandoval at ZGF a lot. And there’s Corey Martin. There’s a lot of other people too. There’s a design culture here now. So not only is the commercial culture of the Pearl above average, but there’s a kind of design culture here that didn’t exist ten years ago. It’s a maturing city. I think we could almost call ourselves a city [laughing].

When Sam [Adams] first took office and he had this creative council or whatever you call it, my position was, ‘What is Portland about?’ It’s not about sustainability or bike lanes. Practically every city in the world is doing that. It’s about creativity, whether legislation for land use or environmentalism. That’s the one thing Portland’s always had: we've always pushed things reactively. That’s our culture, and that’s that we should be pushing.

Given that you’ve not only designed the 511 Broadway building for PNCA but created the master plan, how do you see the school’s future? Or Portland State University’s?

You can look at RISD for your example for PNCA. That’s every urban art school’s mentor. I was there in the late ’70s and it was one or two buildings. Now it’s like 12 or 20. It’s not explosive growth but I think it’s continual growth. I think that school’s a perfect fit for the city. That’s why I pursued our relationship. I think it’s the future. PSU’s the future of the academy and PNCA’s the future of the creative class. And the demand is there. My daughter is in her early 20s. A lot of her friends, some of them may have gone away to school or are at PSU. Which would not have been considered by smart kids in my generation or yours.

PSU also has a bona fide architecture school now. What might the impact be?

These are conversations John Cava and I came to them about years and years ago. Where are you going to be able to hire the best architecture faculty, Eugene or Portland? Cava and I had to go down to UO to convince them to have a full time job up here. But that program has made huge leaps with their renovations. I think the growth of that program could be unlimited. It could be like a University of Cincinnati.

Clyfford Still Museum, Denver (photo by Jeremy Bitterman)

What do you see as Portland’s challenge, or its Achilles’ heel? A lack of wealth, perhaps?

I think it’s really reaching out and taking some risks. I think it’s the fear of feeling. You have to be willing to risk. I think Sokol Blosser did that. They may not have realized that. To do something really unique, you have to lose control a little bit. You have to be searching for something you can’t see the outcome. That takes a kind of confidence and ambition and courage and all that.

I was just up at the Seattle Art Museum this weekend. Doug Aiken launched his piece “Mirror” on the façade. I was just looking at the culture around the museum and how incredibly strong and bold it was. It just felt so great to be in that room. They did the Olympic Sculpture Park and continue to push themselves as an institution. They do have a lot more resources than we have. But I don’t think it’s all about money. It doesn’t have to be giant acts.

What might be some smaller acts, then?

That Lead Pencil installation on the Eastside streetcar line was a really nice thing for Portland to do. To me that tells you how far we’ve come from Debra Butterfields’s horses at the airport. We’ve come from bronze horses to that piece. It’s a hopeful evolution.

What’s ahead for Allied Works, or what do you want there to be ahead?

We’re getting close to the size we were before the recession. I don’t want to get much bigger. But I think there’s a diversity of projects now.

I’m co-curating a show at the Saint Louis Contemporary with Dominique Malone. That’s another project. That opens in the fall. I’m teaching more. I want to do more of that. If you look at the work now from the National Music Centre to PNCA and Clemson to the show we’re doing on concept models or the book we’re doing, there’s just a lot of creative investigation, and that’s it. As long as we have the clients who will allow us to have that pursuit and ask those questions, I’m really happy. As long as we can keep thinking and making things, it’s fun.

 

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Riding the eastside streetcar, and considering its impact

"Inversion: Plus Minus" and Portland Streetcar (image courtesy Lead Pencil Studio)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

My trek began at the east end of the Hawthorne Bridge, where a massive new public art installation marks the arrival of Portland's newest streetcar line along Grand Avenue, Broadway and Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. The artwork by Lead Pencil Studio, called "Inversion: Plus Minus," is multiple stories tall and evokes the form of a warehouse that used to stand there, a kind of ghost building.

The streetcar, conversely, is all about the future - but with a degree of negative space not unlike Lead Pencil Studio's installation. The streetcar is part transit and part development tool, with city planners and transportation specialists hoping the new line will transform the surface parking lots and strip mall-like storefronts the same way it helped turn the Pearl District from industrial to mixed-use urban.

Riding the streetcar north on Grand, I was surprised by how instantly this familiar stretch of roadway unfolded freshly before my eyes. Streetcars may cost more, but they make for a much more pleasant ride. I was seeing Grand almost like a tourist, getting a kind of second first impression.

Yet the view was also, somehow, disappointing. What seemed to stand out as much as the occasional clusters of historic two and three-story storefront buildings was the preponderance of surface parking lots and low-density suburban style developments of single-story buildings oriented towards their parking lots. Then there's the street itself, with enough lanes to move cars but making for a less inviting pedestrian environment. Grand and MLK are not just streets, of course, but the two halves of Highway 30. Just as on Powell Boulevard, which acts as Highway 26 on the east side, it's hard to create an urban setting that encourages mixed-use development when you also have three car lanes going in each direction.

So in other words, riding the eastside streetcar was a reminder of just how much the areas in its path still feel to a large degree like suburban enclaves.

Portland eastside streetcar (video by Brian Libby) 

That's all the more true along the Broadway portion of the streetcar line between the MLK/Grand corridor and the Broadway Bridge to the west, on which it travels over the river. This stretch would seem to be ideally situated for development. There's already a vibrant retail cluster along Broadway just east of here, there's the Lloyd Center mall a few blocks to the southeast and the Rose Quarter's two arenas just the the southwest. Save for the massive Broadway Toyota dealership, this stretch of NE Broadway west of MLK and Grand is largely a wasteland of surface parking lots.

Part of the problem may be the freeway. Despite offering this area easy access, the trench Interstate 5 makes through this area sucks the life out of pedestrian-scaled development. Luckily there are alterations to the freeway scheduled in coming years, including a partial capping that will add a few blocks of real estate.

Perhaps the biggest waste and, thus, the biggest opportunity, lies in the Rose Quarter and the stretch of Broadway (and thus the streetcar line itself) forming its northern edge alongside the Rose Garden arena and Memorial Coliseum. It's a natural for some mix of ground-floor retail with apartments and condos, offices and hotels to occupy the Rose Quarter's northern edge, where surface parking and two parking garages now stand. If more of that parking could be buried underground, the land could become better utilized with higher-density architecture and open space.

Rose Quarter parking garage (photo by Brian Libby)

Besides this streetcar ride, I also happened to visit the Rose Quarter a few days ago right at 5:00PM. Although the development's southern edge was a beehive of activity thanks to the transit center there, the area around the Rose Quarter's two parking garages and the outdoor plazas outside the arenas could not have been more empty. That needs to change, not by tearing down Memorial Coliseum but by activating the Rose Quarter with foothills to the two mountains: with high-density buildings complimenting the two arenas and driving daily activity.

And yet, change is coming. Along streets intersecting Grand and MLK, such as Couch Street, there are new apartment buildings. Moving further north towards the Lloyd District, there is increasing density too. The real estate economy has finally begun to recover, and central-city land along a streetcar line ought to be of increasing interest.

Certainly there are other canvases for urban development in Portland, be it in Northwest Portland south of Vaughn near 23rd Avenue or in the Zidell Yards near South Waterfront. But the cluster of land and neighborhoods comprising the Oregon Convention Center, the Rose Quarter, the Lloyd District and Broadway feel destined, in the long run, to constitute a kind of second downtown: the densest part of the city east of the river.

Riding the streetcar east across the Broadway Bridge and then picking up a return train back along Northeast Broadway, the strangest part of the trip was when the train abandoned its logical course: instead of making a right onto MLK and heading south, the path continues east along Broadway so it can head south for a few blocks along Seventh Avenue.

In a development sense it seemed understandable, for this stretch of Seventh, unlike the areas just a few blocks away, is under-utilized. But the streetcar as a means of travel is already painfully slow. To create a detour in such a heavy-handed way just to expand the development opportunity of a few more blocks felt like the tail wagging the dog. It's one thing to spend more on streetcars than buses with the notion that they encourage pedestrian-scale development. But even just a few blocks' detour is dangerously close to a tipping point where it's almost faster to walk.

Streetcar stop at Burnside and MLK (photo by Brian Libby)

During my ride on a late Tuesday morning, the cars were never full but never empty either. Since the line opened a few months ago, sometimes while biking I've seen streetcars on Grand and MLK with scarcely few passengers, but the same might have been said of the streetcar lines downtown when they first opened. In time, they will become full.

Besides, the fullness of the cars seemed to be not a reflection of success or failure for this new streetcar line, but a kind of ongoing referendum on whether we've made Grand, MLK and Broadway -- three of the most prominent arterial roads on the inner east side of the city -- the kind of places we want them to be.

And just as the artwork marking the beginning of my streetcar ride seemed to mark just a partial silhouette of the past, today that higher-density, more vibrant urban future for these streets and settings, if that's their destiny, can only partially be glimpsed. We can't depend entirely on the streetcar to take us there, and certainly not to do it quickly, but hopefully this investment will validate the ticket there.

 

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The Architect's Questionnaire: Robert Oshatz

Robert Oshatz (image courtesy of the architect)

BY LUKE AREHART

The latest installment in our ongoing series profiling local architects, their careers and passions takes us to one of the city's most venerable and iconoclastic designers.

Robert Oshatz practices an organic architecture of bold curves and forms guided by the natural environment - and without regard for current trends. With homes and other projects across Oregon, the United States and Japan, Oshatz's style is born from the anything-is-possible 1960s and '70s. But although early in his career he studied under Frank Lloyd Wright Jr., Oshatz has long marched to his own drummer.

Portland Architecture: When did you first become interested in architecture as a possible career?

Oshatz: When I was in the seventh grade I had a choice between various industrial art classes in school, so I chose mechanical drafting. It was the first time in my life where I was praised for my efforts, other than sports. People would say, “you should be an architect.” Of course, I had no idea what an architect was at the time. When I was 12 or 13 I began to design houses and build models just for fun, and then it started to grow as a hobby.

When I started high school at age 15, there was an architect that had an office a block and a half from my house in Los Angeles. One day I asked him if I could come in each day after school and clean up the space, or perform other odd jobs. I figured it was a good way to watch and observe what an architect actually did. He agreed, and because he wasn’t too busy at the time, he started to teach me directly. As a result, I ended up going to school from 9am-12pm, and then from 1pm-5pm I worked for that architect. That is how it all started.

Chenequa residence, Milwaukee, Wisconsin (image courtesy Robert Oshatz)

Where did you study architecture and how would you rate the experience?

A lot of my studying was done in the early years when I worked for that architect during high school. Being young and impressionable, I thought he was the greatest architect in the world. There were other young people that came to work there as well, including architecture students from USC and other great schools. They tried to convince me that there were many great architects in the world by showing me magazine articles of different architects and their works, and then we would talk about them. That is where the education really started.

My institutional education began after I graduated from high school. I attended Arizona State purely because it was the closest school to my home in Los Angeles that I could afford to attend and I actually got accepted to. Since I had only attended high school for just half-a-day, my transcripts didn’t make me look like the most academic person in the world. The in-state schools considered it strange. Attending half-a-day school back in those days meant you were likely going to drop out of school and end up pumping gas for a living. Arizona State was close to home and more affordable than in-state schools at the time, so it was a good fit.

Miyasaka residence, Hokkaido, Japan (image courtesy Robert Oshatz)

What is your favorite building project that you’ve worked on?

I won’t take a job unless it’s going to be something that I know I am going to be in love with. Some architects have bread-and-butter work, but all of the jobs I’ve done were jobs that I really enjoyed and wanted to do; otherwise I would have turned them down. In the end, they are all my favorites.

Who has been an important mentor among your colleagues?

There haven’t been any face-to-face mentors in my career. I have independently studied a lot of different architects, both living and passed, and tried to understand as much as possible of each one. Even if they did work that I didn’t particularly appreciate, I still wanted to understand how and why they were doing it. I didn’t have a real mentor like they have today and I never worked for a long period of time in any one office to establish a relationship with a person who could become my mentor. I never had that luxury.

Fennell residence, Portland (image courtesy Robert Oshatz)

What part of the job do you like best, and as an architect what do you think you most excel at?

I enjoy trying to solve problems that clients present. I enjoy working on the floor plans and the initial design ideas. I particularly enjoy seeing the client’s reaction when I show them what I think is the solution to their problem. However, working drawings are a blessing and a curse.  

When I first start to design a project, there is the initial excitement and all that goes with a new project. Then, the reality sets in of all the physical hard work of getting what is in my mind on to paper so that it can be explained. It’s the old adage of 10 percent of inspiration and 90 percent perspiration.

Many times, I can visualize in my mind things that I don’t technically have the skill to translate on to paper or the computer screen, which can be frustrating. Sometimes I get into the working drawings of a project and I really love it, other times I think I’m tired of working drawings and I don’t want to do it. I certainly go through different moments. It also depends on my mood.

Stevens-Harnell residence, Los Angeles (image courtesy Robert Oshatz)

When it comes to the technical side, before there were computers, I really liked the trigonometry I had to do on a lot of my buildings to find dimensions for my working drawings. I actually enjoyed sitting down and going through the math and getting instant gratification. That has all been taken away from me with the use of a computer.

What are some Portland buildings (either new or historic) that you most admire?

That’s hard to answer because particular buildings don’t stick in my mind. I can’t think offhand of a particular building in Portland of another architect that I’m particularly moved by. Most buildings I don’t care for, but I can find details and different elements that were done particularly well that I can appreciate. I mainly look at the building and try to think about if the architect understood what he was doing or if he was just copying from a magazine. If they understand what they are doing even if it’s something that I don’t care for personally, I can appreciate the fact that they were being honest and creative without copying something that was popular for a moment.

Who is a famous architect you’d like to see design a building in Portland?

The architects I like and appreciate the most probably would not get a good reception in Portland. I think Portland tends to be a little bit conservative in terms of design. Unfortunately there is not a lot of imagination going on in the buildings that are being built. More lip service is given to wonderful ideas, but when execution time comes it seems to be the same old thing over and over again. I don’t keep a close eye on what’s going on here. Even though I live here, I hardly ever do any work in the Portland area. I’m not intensely involved in what’s going on around here while I’m working in other parts of the country or other sections of the state; my work keeps my focus and concentration enough that I don’t really have time to pay attention. Sad to say, considering I have lived in Portland since 1969.

Wilkinson residence, Portland (image courtesy Robert Oshatz)

Name something besides architecture (sneakers, furniture, umbrellas) you love the design of.

Music, especially classical. I really enjoy the structure and the compositional aspects of classical music. Architecture and music have a very close relationship with one another in their use of compositions. In all of the arts, in fact, the basic composition is the same; the architect might build a wall with bricks, a landscape architect might build a wall with plant material, a musician might build it with sound, and a painter might build it with color. In the end, we are all using the same basic compositional structure.

What are three of your all-time favorite movies?

That’s another tough one, because my tastes change and evolve. For example, I saw a movie in the early 60’s and I thought it was the funniest movie I ever saw. For years and years I looked for a copy, including online and in movie stores, and I couldn’t find it. Then one day about a year ago all of a sudden it appeared on Netflix so I watched it immediately. When it was over, I thought to myself, “What was so funny about this movie?” It really wasn’t that good.  

 

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Holst's busy office reflects the profession's improving prospects

Sawyer's Row housing project (rendering courtesy Holst Architecture)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

For much of the 2000s, Holst Architecture epitopized the condo boom. Along with other local firms like Ankrom Moisan, Vallaster Corl and Myhre Group, Holst saw a succession of commissions for mixed-use buildings both in existing neighborhoods like Belmont and burgeoning enclaves such the Pearl District. Projects like the 937 building, the Belmont Street Lofts and the Thurman Street Lofts helped elevate Holst to the uppermost eschelon of local firms, winning awards and acclaim for founders Jeff Stuhr and John Holmes.

But as we know, times change, and how the firm has survived the Great Recession by diversifying and adapting, as well as how their office has become busy again today, hopefully reflects not just this firm's positive outlook but a rebound for the industry.

According to the American Institute of Architects' billing index, nationally firms are getting their best stream of work in more than five years. More than one-third of firms are also reporting that time alotted for the project design phase has decreased, reflecting clients' willingness to go forward. By no means is it an economic boom, and certainly there are plenty of firms locally and nationally operating at less than full capacity. But it's most certainly not a recession either, and certain markets that have been at a trickle, such as apartments, are definitely back. 

AIA Billing Index (courtesy American Institute of Architects)

At Holst, staff numbers may indicate a busyness that actually trumps pre-recession levels. At its height before the downturn began in 2008, the firm was at 18 employees. In the recession, it sunk down to 12. Today the firm has 24 employees.

"We were able to diversify our client base since the bottom dropped out in 2008," Holst's Dave Otte said via email. "First, the Bud Clark Commons led to more public/private projects in the affordable housing and community service world. Second, we established ongoing work with regional and national retailers like Starbucks, Williams Sonoma, and Umpqua Bank. Obviously apartments are hot right now so we have a number of those. Also, we are doing more higher-ed work, currently with Lewis & Clark College. Finally, we began branching outside of Oregon, like with our ongoing work in Amherst. We are currently very busy, and are trying to be smart about our growth so that we stay busy."

Boltwood Place, Amherst, Mass. (image courtesy Holst Architecture)

The Amherst, Massachusetts project Otte refers to is called Boltwood Place, a recently completed mixed-use, 18,000-square-foot building near the University of Massachusetts campus amidst a vernacular of white clapboard saltboxes and red brick buildings. Holst chose just such an exterior palette, using white clapboard and cedar siding, but gave the building clean lines and minimal detailing in keeping with the rest of the firm's portfolio. The developer had sought out Holst to bring a touch of Portland livability to the town known for nurturing Julius "Dr. J" Irving and Marcus Camby. A second Holst project in Amherst for the same client is underway as well.

Besides their multi-family housing projects, Holst also occasionally designs single-family houses, such as one occupied by Stuhr. The latest, currently under construction, is called the Karuna House and is nestled into a hillside in Willamette Valley wine country near Newberg. The design creates a sequence of spaces rising and falling with the land form, with floor-to-ceiling glass offering views of the valley and distant Cascade peaks.

With an airtight building envelope paired with operable exterior Venetian blinds and triple-pane windows, the Karuna House is designed to use 60 percent less energy than the maximum allowed by code, and 68 percent less than a typical existing home in this region.

Karuna House (image courtesy Holst Architecture)

Holst also has three different multifamily housing projects in Portland set for completion later this year and into 2014, all targeting various levels of LEED registration.

Glisan Commons is a planned five-story, 73,000 square foot mixed-use transit-oriented development in the Gateway district. The ground floor will be headquarters for Ride Connection, a nonprofit organization that provides transportation options to people with mobility challenges. The four upper floors will 67 workforce housing units developed by the nonprofit Human Solutions.

Glisan Commons (rendering courtesy Holst Architecture)

Located in the Northwest Plan District near NW 20th Avenue and Raleigh Street, where a cluster of surface parking lots is giving way to a mixed-use neighborhood, Sawyer's Row (pictured at top) is a 42,000 square foot, three-story project for Vancouver developer C.E. John encompassing 40 apartments across two buildings.

The material palette for Sawyer's Row is a balance of textured cedar rain screen cladding system with cement stucco, steel canopies, with an aluminum storefront. Onsite parking is kept out of view, either tucked under or behind the two buildings.

The exterior is built with a textured cedar rain screen cladding system with cement stucco and steel canopies. Additionally, the design breaks up the mass of the two buildings further, into four masses, so as to (along with the reduced height) maintain a more intimate residential scale. The façade is also animated through a combination of alternating one and two-story entrance alcoves.

Beech Street Apartments/Lifeworks (rendering courtesy Holst Architecture)

And scheduled for completion next year is the Beech Street Apartments which will provide permanent family housing as well as supportive services for nonprofits Home Forward and Lifeworks NW. The development will expand Lifeworks's Project Network, which provides residential space for 36 women and their children while the women undergo substance-abuse treatment. It also includes a child development center, library, courtyard, administration, and a variety of gathering spaces for treatment. 32 permanent family apartments, which will be reserved for graduates of substance abuse treatment programs, represent Home Forward’s first “dry” housing program. The building is anticipating LEED Platinum certification.

 

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Previewing Saturday's 2nd annual Portland Modern Home Tour

Works Partnership's house on 53rd Avenue (photo by Joshua Jay Elliot)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

Condos in North and Southeast Portland. A prototype house in Northeast. A passive house in Southwest. Three midcentury gems in the West Hills and Beaverton. Even the scene of a Portlandia episode. This year's second annual Modern Home Tour seeks to offer a little bit of everything modern from the mid-20th Century to today.

Curated by Portland Architecture and scheduled for Saturday, March 9 from 11-5, the 2013 Modern Home Tour features a cross section of designers past and present, from acclaimed and award-winning firms of today such as Works Partnership, Holst, Departure Design, Edgar Papazian and William Kaven to earlier generation designers and builders such as Richard Campbell, Robert Rummer and John Dukehart.

Take Works Partnership's house on NE 53rd Avenue, an excersise in protyping over prefabrication.

"We, as a profession, speak romantically about prefabrication and mass production as a way to bring thoughtful design to mainstream homebuyers," the architects write. "We hope for tight construction costs of $150/sf and 'fast' schedules of 6 months. We are a little lost. The American mass housing industry’s bottom line is closer to $60-75/sf and houses are completed in 40-75 days out in the converted farmland of exurbia. Using the building blocks of the typical American house we asked not only what types of spaces they could contain, but what types of spaces could they create; a change not so much in architectural configuration, but a change in lifestyle. We wanted to return to utilitarian simplicity and a model of living large in a smaller home." The 3 bedroom, 2.5-bath home is oriented around a courtyard and designed around an existing mature cedar tree, with a one-bedroom  accessory dwelling unit in back.

Architect Edgar Papazian's home in Southeast Portland was made famous last year when it appeared in a Portlandia episode. But it was distinctive long before that. 

Eyebrow House (photos by Brian Libby)

Papazian, who previously worked for prestigious firms like Polshek Partnership and SANAA, expanded a modest existing cottage on a low-budget with inexpensive materials like corrugated metal as well as an eye for curves and uncommon material juxtapositions. When I first visited the house in 2010, it seemed to be an odd marriage of house and Quanset hut. But the more I explored it, the more I came to love what Papazian had done.

The North House by William Kaven Architecture and the Clinton Condominiums by Holst Architecture both represent the multi-family housing boom of the 2000s as it came to Portland's historic neighborhoods. Each, at the time of its construction, met opposition from neighbors who decried the incompatability of the contemporary architecture with the existing fabric of homes. But I'd argue that each over the years has come to fit well into its neighborhood.

Above: North House (photo by Daniel Kaven), below: Clinton Condos (photo by Brian Libby)

The North House fits three condos discreetly onto its site so as not to tower over existing houses, and inside the views are bright and airy. The Clinton has become a center of its neighborhood, with floor-to-ceiling glass and mahogany on the ground floor giving way to a gritty facade of weathered steel.

Built in 1966, the three-bedroom house by Richard Campbell is a delightful fusion of wood and open space. With oak floors and cedar ceilings under a soaring split roof, the home is a quintessential example of the Northwest Modern style that proliferated here from the 1930s-60s. Campbell, one of the co-founders of the firm now known as YGH Architecture, won awards from both the American Institute of Architects and Sunset magazine for his design.

Richard Campbell House (photos courtesy Michael Cogliantry)

Like the Eichler builder homes of California that inspired them, the midcentury Rummer Homes scattered across the Portland metro area are highly coveted, thanks to their open floor plans and bounty of natural light - not to mention a certain Brady Bunch meets Richard Neutra retro feel.

This original Rummer home was built in 1966 and is one of only two known homes with this floor plan. It went through a complete remodel in 2009 with an eye to maintaining the mid-century appeal while updating the mechanicals, kitchen, and bathrooms. Jeffrey Wiseman, homeowner and proprieter of Rose City Modern, has decorated the home with mid-century furniture and accent pieces from his own antique store as well as others around Portland.

Rummer House on Bonnie Brae Street in Beaverton (photo courtesy Marisa Swenson)

Patrick O’Neill and Jayne Cronlund O’Neill purchased the home tour home on SW Beaverton Avenue in the Council Crest neighborhood  in 2004. The house, originally designed by John Dukehart for his parents as a place to retire, was still in its original condition with no major remodels. Both Patrick and Jayne saw a great potential restoration/renovation opportunity.

O'Neill, founder of Greenline Fine Woodworking, developed potential restoration/renovation concepts over the next 8 years while living in the house. As part of the design development process, the O’Neill’s commissioned Japanese Garden master Hoichi Kurisu, to design the gardens. With the garden plan complete (though not constructed), Patrick was able to fully design the interior renovations.

O'Neill residence (images courtesy Patrick O'Neill)

Portland's Departure Design is the sole firm with two houses on the tour. Their Full Plane Passive House has quietly reached the ranks of Portland’s most sustainable residences, pursuing both Passive House and the Living Building Challenge standards. To meet net-zero water goals, composting toilets, stormwater catchment, and greywater reuse are incorporated. PassiveHouse technologies and photovoltaics help the Full Plane PassiveHouse surpass net-zero energy requirements, moving towards net-positive energy.

Full Plane Passive House (photos by Mitchell Snyder Photography)

Departure's other project features a unique program including a simple one-bedroom, 1,400 square foot home with an open studio for music, painting, and videography. The straightforward design balances simplicity and restraint. Irregular but beautiful natural materials, like the salvaged fir siding from the Oregon State Mental Hospital, are set against playful colors and forms, like the bright yellow spiral stair.

Departure's Ivon Street residence (photos by Mitchell Snyder Photography)

Spring and fall are often loaded with home tours. Besides this tour, for example, the Historic Preservation League is producing a tour of historic midcentury-modern Saul Zaik homes happening on May 11. The Architectural Heritage Center is offering a "Kitchen Revival Tour" on April 13. But regardless of one's tour preferences, the return of sunny weather is a chance for Oregonians to check out what their neighbors have been up to, and how modern architecture continues to inspire across generations.

 

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