Portland Architecture

PSU students raising funds to build food-cart parklet

Rendering of proposed Fourth Avenue mini-park (image courtesy PSU)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

If students from Portland State University's School of Architecture are successful in a fundraising campaign that concludes in a few days, downtown Portland may be getting something it could really use: seating for food-cart pods.

A student-designed mini-park (or park let, as it's commonly known), occupying a succession of curbside parking spots, has been approved by the city of Portland for installation in front of the Southwest 4th Avenue food carts. The park was designed with sustainability and community building in mind, using locally sourced building materials and native plants. It's also designed to be wheelchair accessible.

But to complete the project, it needs funding. PSU's School of Architecture, its Institute for Sustainable Solutions and the SoMa EcoDistrict Steering Committee have launched a crowdfunding campaign to gather donations—small and large— to finance building materials for the parklet. Luckily as of today, the project has raised $14,211 of its $15,350. Just a few more donations are needed. But the campaign only goes for four more days.

“Parklets—these small green spaces that extend out from the sidewalk—are being embraced by cities across the country as tools for community building,” says BD Wortham-Galvin, assistant professor at PSU’s School of Architecture. “We’re thrilled to have been approved by Portland’s Street Seats Program to build downtown’s first truly public parklet, and we can’t wait to construct this shared space in front of our popular food carts.”

Rendering of proposed Fourth Avenue mini-park (image courtesy PSU)

If fundraising is successful, Wortham-Galvin will teach an architecture class this spring that will focus on finalizing the design, constructing the parklet, and then installing it in front of the food carts over the course of one weekend. The park will provide much-needed seating for the popular lunch spot and add an attractive gathering space to the south end of downtown Portland.

What's more, even though this Fourth Avenue food cart area is perhaps not as popular or prominent as cart pods such as that on SW 10th Avenue at Alder downtown, the parklet here could create precedent for similar street seating areas at these and other food cart destinations. While food-cart pods outside of downtown often have seating areas in the middle, such as at the SE 12th and Hawthorne pod or the one at North Mississippi and Skidmore, downtown food-cart areas spend much of the year selling food to people who need shelter to eat it in. If patronizing the 10th & Alder pods, for example, if it's raining and one doesn't have a home or office downtown the best one can hope for is to traipse a few blocks to Director Park to eat under its awning.

"Daily lots of people go and purchase food and then leave," Wortham-Galvin says of food carts and their patrons. "They go back to offices, hallways and other interior spaces. If we provide a place for people to sit (alone or in groups), they can stay outside and revel in being in public. We are social creatures and even if we are eating alone, it's more enjoyable to do so when we can people watch. The parklet takes this into account and offers a variety of seating: a high bar stool type, group bench, and individual bench. It also makes the neighborhood a more interesting place when we give people a reason to interact with each rather than run back inside with their meal."

Rendering of proposed Fourth Avenue mini-park (image courtesy PSU)

The food-cart parklet idea is also part of a broader movement, one that transcends food carts: creating usable public space from curbside parking spots. Obviously we need to maintain street parking, but giving up a few spots here and there amidst the thousands of spots available is an easy decision.

In addition, the parklet design and campaign is merely the latest example of how PSU's young architecture school (accredited only in recent years) is making a name for itself not only with a focus on sustainability, but in making its students and faculty active in the community, and designing for real-world problems and opportunities.

"A 21st century university needs to bridge the gap between learning and applied knowledge," Wortham-Galvin says. "It also needs to be more issue based rather than siloed by discipline. With the design and building of this parklet, students are trying to answer a fundamental but critical question: How do we make and sustain great public places? Instead of writing a paper on it, they get to put their knowledge in service to others as well as themselves. When learning is a shared and public process, all of us have a stake in everyone's education."

 

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A first glimpse inside PNCA's Schnitzer Center for Art & Design

Atrium of Schnitzer Center for Art & Design (photo by Brian Libby)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

The students and professors have not yet moved in. No art projects line the walls, and hard hats are still required. But the opening of the Pacific Northwest College of Art's new Arlene and Harold Schnitzer Center for Art and Design is just a couple of weeks away, which prompted a recent media tour.

It's too early to pass judgment before any of the final details have come together, but as soon as one enters the circa-1918 Italian Renaissance-style building, originally constructed as a post office, it's easy to see how the architecture has changed, becoming something much more open and full of light yet without compromising the wonderful bones of the historic original structure. While much of this is done by carving out new spaces to spread illumination, a lot of it happened by uncovering the skylights that were already there and removing the drop ceilings added in previous ill-advised renovations. Besides the carving out, there's also a simple unveiling and enabling of the orignial.

In any case, the Schnitzer Center has the chance to become a great architectural space in Portland, and a compelling return to form locally for Allied Works after spending much of the past decade-plus doing its most ambitious work in other cities.

Entering the building from the east or west, a show-stopping moment even before renovation has always come as one walks down the central spine, along a series of travertine columns with an intricately detailed ceiling in gold trim above. But whereas that central hallway and elevator lobby was dark before, now it is bathed in natural illumination.

Top: exterior arch detail; bottom: interior safe door (photos by Brian Libby)

Just off the hallway is a three-story atrium, revealing a kind of core sample of the architecture. Large metal cables, swooping in a curvilinear fashion and resembling nautical ropes, hold the mezzanine and third floor in place. At the top is a glass ceiling and, just to the north, the third floor ceiling is comprised of several huge sawtooth skylights. Despite all the heaviness of the original architecture, there is so much light that it almost feels like a quasi-outdoor setting, or perhaps a greenhouse or winter garden.

This primary atrium in the middle of the building is flanked on the east and west entrances by a pair of smaller two-story openings, revealing and drawing from large arched windows that had previously been blocked inside by drop ceilings. Everywhere you go on this ground level in particular, it's tall, wide-open interior spaces, something almost completely opposite from before the new renovation. The arched windows too are now an unmistakable part of the architectural experience again. However much midcentury plans for drop ceilings and fluourescent light compromised this building, clearly the original architects, San Francisco's Lewis P. Hobart and Washington, DC's James A. Wetmore, wanted to take advantage of natural light as much as possible.

This building was completed the same year that World War I ended, and like Memorial Coliseum across the river, it's not insignificant or merely a physical gesture for a public building to be transparent and full of light. It's not just about being able to do without artificial light. In the right public buildings, natural illumination can also have a symbolic effect, becoming an almost spiritual expression of openness.

Top: a secondary atrium; bottom: third-floor sawtooth skylights (photos by Brian Libby)

The Schnitzer Center's architect, Allied Works (led by founding partner Brad Cloepfil), first gained national and international prominence 14 years ago with completion of the Wieden + Kennedy headquarters in the Pearl District. In many ways, that project and the new Schnitzer Center posed a similar intervention, in that a historic building was enlivened in its renovation by what was taken away. In each case, an atrium cut into the middle of the building provides a striking gathering spot while permeating the surrounding interior with natural light.

But the projects are as different as they are similar. W+K was an old cold-storage warehouse, with little inside that was precious and in need of preservation. That project also seemed to juxtapose of heaviness and lightness: big concrete forms and wood beams paired with a series of catwalks and perimeter rails that uses very thin wire and felt light as a feather. For the Schnitzer Center, there were historical flourishes inside and out to restore such as the travertine walls and terra-cotta tile floors.

But another difference may be that the Schnitzer Center's interstitial materials feel a little heavier, specifically the cables helping to hold up the mezzanine and support the atrium. They look great, adding a sense of curve and maybe even a touch of whimsy. One could almost look at them as drapes, unveiling the theater of students and faculty moving about on three floors. But the cables, at least to my eyes or at least in this late-construction phase before completion, look thick and industrial, almost like they came from a bridge.

Top: central atrium; bottom: ground-floor central walkway (photos by Brian Libby)

Honestly I'm not enough of a structural engineering expert to tell you if lighter cables were possible and the heavy cables are merely an aesthetic choice, or whether these are the thinnest cables possible for this job. And it's not a given that thinner cables would have looked better. As constructed, the supports have a striking presence, not simply disappearing like thin wire might have but instead expressing clearly the union of these floors of activity and their occupants through an engineering intervention with the cables.

Besides the interior architecture, it's also worth pausing to consider how the renovation of 511 Broadway into PNCA's Schnitzer Center will impact the surrounding blocks as well as the Old Town and Pearl District to either side (Broadway serves as the border between them).

Across Hoyt Street, the newer but still outmoded post office building may soon be going away, freeing up hundreds of thousands of square footage for redevelopment. The Schnitzer Center also sits on the edge of the North Park Blocks. With the ArtHouse residence hall at the other end, PNCA is now bookending this greenspace, making it a natural part of the campus, just as the South Park Blocks do for Portland State University. One can't help but wonder if the city-owned vacant lot across Broadway from the Schnitzer Center might now be targeted for redevelopment. And in a broader sense, perhaps the PNCA project can help enliven Broadway, which is a kind of Main Street for downtown Portland but on this north side of Burnside doesn't feel that way. It's too bad that there's such a dichotomy between Old Town/Chinatown to the east of Broadway and the Pearl District to the west. The fabric of historic buildings is a huge resource, but too much of Old Town seems to be social services and bars, while the Pearl seems to have lots of galleries, restaurants and shops but few resources for those in need.

It would be asking too much of the Schnitzer Center to stitch these neighborhoods together and mingle their functions, yet given its place on Broadway as a newly relevant public building, somehow one can't help but have civic hopes for the impact of the architecture.

I'm still looking forward to getting a sense of the completed building in a few weeks, but a lot of the pieces are already in place, and enough of the Schnitzer Center is complete to see how it will be a gathering place, not just for students and faculty but the entire community — and a powerful fusion of old and new Portland. 

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A conversation with SRG Partnership's Jon Schleuning (part 2)

WSU Veterinary & Biomedical Research Building (image courtesy SRG)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

This is a continuation of my discussion with SRG Partnership founding partner Jon Schleuning, FAIA, who recently received the received the 2014 Medal of Honor from the American Institute of Architects' Northwest & Pacific Region. From historic preservation to master planning, architecture to professional leadership, Schleuning has over the past four decades helped make Portland what it is today, and has influenced generations of designers.

Portland Architecture: How has the profession changed over time for you?

Schleuning: The profession is moving in two separate directions. The delivery side is building-focused and moving towards wanting  everybody to be together, often in a common physical location. The idea is  to get everybody together so we can collectively make  more efficient and better decisions. On the design side, we’re at the other extreme, focused on cloud-computing, complex BIM modeling, and interactive video conferencing. The design-based teams want to be more far-reaching and as a result, are more fragmented. In addition, we’re not limited to thinking about individual buildings but larger scale eco-districts and clusters or families of buildings. Todays design challenges emphasize resource conservation and sharing, optimization of current facilities, and strategic densification. Share the energy. Consolidate the water. Thinking in bigger chunks. It’s not only, ‘Here’s the building and we’re on budget and time, but have we used the the resources on hand in an optimal manner? Are we left with 200,000 square feet of vacant space that no one knows what to do with?’ A design team has the responsibility to do more than just  design a building, but  to seek broader solutions:  ‘ why not remodel here and add a new addition her instead. It may be smarter than just a stand-alone new building here.’ 

SRG previously worked on the restoration of the Washington State Capitol, and now you’re working on a $200 million plan to restore the Oregon state capitol building. Could you talk about that particular opportunity and challenge? How has it made you appreciate the original architecture?

In the early 1970s our office did the planning studies for the new wings on the south side of the State Capitol Building which  ZGF  designed and implemented in the mid-70’s. Thirty years later, SRG was selected to do a new master plan focused on seismic upgrades and much-needed renovations; and in 2014, our team was chosen to implement many of those recommendations. I have been  deeply involved in much of that work; and  hopefully the legislature will be supportive. The building needs it.

What is interesting is a major public building, the product of a national design competition, completed in 1938 at the height of the Depression. This followed a fire that had destroyed the previous, very classical and ornate facility. And here, the State of Oregon selects a building design so distinctly modernist and different than anything else. Initially I looked at it and said, ‘Well, it’s kind of a solid, utilitarian piece, neither dramatically handsome  nor homely, just matter of fact.’ But the more I work with it, the more pride and respect I have for that building. 

Oregon State Capitol (image courtesy History.com)

The Capitol was completed at the same time Belluschi was doing the [Portland] Art Museum. You see the similarities in terms of the simplicity of the massing, the clarity of the building elements and proportions, and the readability of its purpose and function. . There is a presence and a cadence to it that is really remarkable. There is minimal detail. There’s no base. It’s a modernist building at a pivotal time in architectural history, moving from classicism into modernism.  Here is a building so appropriate for the citizens of Oregon. It wasn’t ostentatious. It was utilitarian. It was handsome. It has a presence to it. It was an East Coast architect that captured the persona of the state. Today, 75 years later, it’s probably even closer to the state’s persona than the Depression-ravaged citizenry of the ‘30s, embodying the heritage of a sustainable environments, the bottle bill, public beaches and rivers and more. Everything about Oregon is embodied in the pioneer statue on top.  Not some heroic politician on a horse, just an average guy looking for something better. It’s inspiring. 

What does it need to be relevant today and tomorrow as a working building?

You realize the need to protect the building from seismic damage and worn-out infrastructure; but also the need to enhance the working environment.  Bring in more natural light, re-capture the natural ventilation. When it was completed in 1938, it was the most sustainable state capitol in the Union.  It is a classic sustainable building and we’re preserving that. One of the goals of the 2009 Master Plan was to make it the most sustainable capitol in the country once again.

We’re addressing the seismic issue through base isolation technology [under-floor seismic protection] and we decided to lower the floor a few feet at the same to make the space usable for additional hearing rooms and departmental space. We can make this building a habitable and efficient governmental center without damaging its historic character. The public can enjoy the building and the people using it can be more efficient and get more done.

What keeps you going in the profession?

I have a strength in design that can envision new combinations of ideas and to convince people that these ideas are beneficial to the client and the public. It’s that transition from an abstract ideas into sketches into a building that’s often missing right now, especially when someone says, ‘I want 200,000 square feet  for a certain amount of dollars.’ The process needs to be more flexible and  nebulous. I have the privilege to work with talented people where everybody contributes. Everybody has good ideas. It isn’t hierarchical. I’m more of an orchestra leader, saying, ‘Let’s explore this point,’ or, ‘Have you thought about this?’ It’s lucky that SRG has always been blessed with diversity with people of different talents, interests and types; but also the diversity of ideas in saying, ‘Let’s try this or let’s explore this.’ When a majority of your clients are owner-users, you also have the obligation to be certain that what you do for then really works; that it’s not a whim or a fad. If you try something new, you’d better test it first.

What energizes me are the people around me. Architecture is the greatest profession in the people it attracts -- people drawn to the profession not for flashy cars or corner offices. They’re attracted to architecture because it’s about people contributing something lasting, not just here today and gone tomorrow. It’s the idea of transforming ideas and people’s expectations into something that’s special and tangible.

What’s a connecting thread amongst SRG’s clients?

They fit a common pattern – mostly people and institutions interested in contributing to the betterment of daily lives. A recent project is the Veterinary and Biomedical Research Building at Washington State University. It is a very sustainable kind of building and received national Lab-of-the Year recognition; but it is really trying to  accomplish other things, many of which are relatively subtle. For example, the person working in the lab is the same person who uses the rest of the building. There’s not the differentiation of the lab portion and a corporate portion. We brought natural light into all the spaces. Everybody shares the light, the views, the common spaces, the same materials. Everybody is treated equally. 

It seems like part of what you’re designing is social as well as physical.

When you  have an open environment like our office, people become less territorial. It isn’t about having private offices, but having clusters of people around you. These conditions create collaboration and connectivity --  to nature, to natural light and views, to me, and to your neighbor. In the research, healthcare, and education fields where we do  considerable work, the basic premise is sharing. So the question is, ‘Can we create environments for better collaboration and sharing?’ It’s not about objects or things but the more  intangible elements. Finding places where you can have a public persona and a little bit of privacy. People are not just extraverts or an introverts but a little of both. Translating that to architecture is what  is meaningful. It doesn’t have to be a church or a cathedral to have a spirit of place that says, this feels comfortable and I like being here. Once that’s true, then you’re willing to share things and together, you can achieve more than you ever could on our own. That’s the power of collaboration and working as a team.

 

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A conversation with SRG Partnership's Jon Schleuning (part 1)

Jon Schleuning (image courtesy SRG Partnership)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

Last fall, SRG Partnership co-founder Jon Schleuning received the 2014 Medal of Honor from the American Institute of Architects' Northwest & Pacific Region, awarded to architects who have demonstrated excellence in design, architectural education, or service to the profession while promoting public understanding of architects and architecture.

Founded in 1972, SRG Partnership has distinguished itself over the decades with experience in both historic preservation and in new construction, with an emphasis on sustainability and research. SRG's projects usually aren't flashy, but they possess a timelessness and rigor that reflects the wisdom of Schleuning and a team including principals like Kent Duffy and Dennis Cusack.

SRG's first project was the master plan for Johns Landing (in conjunction with John Storrs), which launched SRG’s reputation for planning and urban design. It was soon followed by the Lower Willamette Management Plan for the Port of Portland—the first successful strategic policy plan approved by local, state and national agencies for 16 miles of river use and shoreline development. The firm has overseen renovations to both the Washington and Oregon state capitol buildings, created high-tech facilities for like Intel and Fujitsu, popular public facilities like the Oregon Coast Aquarium and Mount St. Helens Visitors Center, and leading-edge green buildings like the Lillis Business Complex at the University of Oregon, Bellevue City Hall, Shriners Hospital in Honolulu, and numerous works for the University of California system.

In the early 1980s, SRG also served as architect of record in partnership with lead architect Arthur Erickson as one of the three finalists for the Portland Building commission. SRG's work is perhaps the opposite of the Michael Graves-designed building that was ultimately constructed, but as I saw at a recent dinner for Graves when the architect was in town last year for a public talk with Randy Gragg, Schleuning could not have been more gracious towards his more famous colleague.

Schleuning also has a long record civic involvement, including his presidency of the City Club of Portland and numerous review boards for Pioneer Square, Pioneer Place, and the Portland Performing Arts Center.

Recently I met with Schleuning to talk about his career and his passion for architecture.

Portland Architecture: After growing up in Portland, you originally studied at Yale University under famous names like Josef Albers and Vincent Scully, and got to meet Eero Saarinen. Yet you ultimately transferred to the University of California at Berkeley. What attracted you there?

Schleuning: I went through architecture school in that brief period of time where behavioral science suddenly was taking off. Yale’s program was in transition and UC Berkeley had just developed the College of Environmental Design. We were looking at prisons and all kinds of spaces that shaped people’s lives in a constructive way. I was just passionate about it.

What are your memories of working on the Portland Building competition?

It was an interesting time. I don’t see it as a high point or pivotal moment in my career. The Portland Building is probably midway from where I started and where I am today. It came at the end of a period of very intense public involvement that I felt was fundamental to what architecture was about -- cities and people and streets. It was also at a time when we had a lot of urban renewal work, the Portland Development Commission was really powerful, and there was a lot of federal money. So our firm was doing urban design studies for Morrison Street and Pioneer Courthouse Square and things like that. There was an intense interest in the public sector and the public domain. Portland, with its small blocks, has 33 percent of the land in public ownership; so you’re dealing with small chunks of real estate. At the time when other cities were building blockbuster, mega-buildings, Portland was still locked in. And it was a blessing.

When we approached the Portland Building, here was a chance for a public building that had some legitimacy to it. We were excited and delighted to be a part of one of the teams. Erickson had been doing some lovely work and had just finished the anthropology museum at UBC. He was a wonderful man, but we just didn’t have enough of his attention. I don’t think any of the three finalists’ projects were really successful. BOORA had an interesting one with Mitchell Giurgola. It was introverted with a big interior space. In our design, Arthur had the big strand that cut through the middle. It was a great idea that we didn’t really incorporate in any convincing matter, but it was a great idea. There were view corridors through the building. Buildings weren’t barricades, and especially public ones. Buildings were meant to have a porosity to them, especially on the lower levels. The Portland Building doesn’t accomplish that. I don’t think the Erickson building did it well. But to end up with a building that was really more pivotal stylistically rather than architecturally, that was [disappointing].

Arthur Erickson/SRG Portland Building entry (image courtesy SW Oregon Architect)

Why do you think that was?

Part of it was the way the competition was set up. Which gets back to where we are today, in that often there’s a predetermination of what needs to be done without a careful analysis by the right people—not that it has to be only by architects. But architects and urban planners ought to be involved in figuring out what should be done. My mantra is not, ‘What can be done?’ We can do almost anything now. It’s, ‘What should be done?’ That’s the moral imperative that makes sure architecture is not just a commodity. If there’s no moral imperative then we’re cranking out shoes or refrigerators or cars. When you get to that point, someone says, ‘Here’s what I want to do. Do it for me.’ Yet it’s that incredible creative aspect that the design professions bring, to say, ‘What if we did something different? Not for the sake of being different, but let’s turn it upside-down and look at it and see if maybe there’s something we were missing.’ The responsibility of architects today is  to get to the decision-makers before they make the decision. It’s being on the policy side so you’re able to say, ‘Instead of doing that building, maybe we should do a smaller addition and two renovations.’

You seem to think as much like an urban planner as you do as an architect.

I remember when I was working with [former Portland Mayor Neil] Goldschmidt on Pioneer Place. We got down to the three finalists and visited with them. We had all the boards and presentation materials. Neil had moved to DC [to be the US Secretary of Transportation] and came back. I said, ‘Do you want to see what we chose?’ We were really excited about this three-block development downtown and these great boards  that Rouse had developed. Neil came in and said, ‘It looks great. But what are you doing about JC Penney? What are you doing about the old bookstore?’ He was two steps ahead of everyone. He said, ‘This is great, but it doesn’t help the city if it puts JC Penney out of business or you lose JK Gill.’ You’re looking at a bigger chessboard. And you’re trying to get people to say, ‘I know you need that 60,000 square feet but think of what the next move is. Don’t make a move that two moves down the line will not allow you to do something even more spectacular. And there’s a lot of good examples of that, where people are rushing into what I would call premature decisions. Part of what we need to do as architects is step back and say, ‘We’re imaginative people. Let’s use our imaginations.’

How have things changed over your career with respect to that kind of civic planning and ambition?

Twenty years ago, the public sector had a lot more money. They brought more dollars to the table. Once the money dried up and they became facilitators of the city rather than real leaders You’d ask, ‘What’s the big move?’ We had the Blazers or a baseball team looking to relocate. There were civic things motivated by the fact that the public sector needed more than just talk. Once they were undercut financially, they lost their nerve in some ways. I was lucky enough to participate in a time that was about leveraging what you did have. The attitude was not, ‘What can you do?’ or ‘What can’t you do?’ It was, ‘What should you do?’ It wasn’t restrictive. It was, ‘How do we solve it?’

UO's Lillis Business Complex (photo by Lara Swimmer)

I remember being on the planning team for the first part of South Waterfront. We the best economic resource consultants out of Los Angeles and San Francisco. They said, ‘Housing just won’t work.’ We said, ‘Well, we want housing .’ They said, ‘It just won’t work.’ We sat at the table and finally at one of the meetings with Larry Dully, who was leading the process for PDC, we said, ‘we’re asking the wrong question.’ So we turned to the economists and said, ‘Assume that housing is an integral part of what we do. Tell us what we have to do to accomplish it.’ Don’t just say what works, because we’ll just get the same formula. And they came up with some creative ideas that allowed housing to proceed. Previously the best thing they suggestsed was a shopping center. Give us a break!

SRG's offices overlook Pioneer Courthouse Square from a classic A.E. Doyle-designed building from the early 20th century. How does the urban setting outside your window reflect the kind of work you like to embrace as planner and architect?

It speaks to the power of mid-rise high density. You look at the differences between what’s happening in South Waterfront and what’s happening in the earlier portions of the Pearl District. The  mid-rise high density allows me to sit here and see people’s faces. This time of year you’ll start getting the guitarist on the corner or the bell-ringer for Christmas. You talk about connectivity. I practiced for a year and a half on the 16th floor of what was the Georgia Pacific building where you don’t have that kind of connectivity.

When you talk about density from and urban point of view, the important part is you want not only this visual connectivity, but also the physical connectivity. If you have to walk 400 feet before you can turn 90 degrees, that’s not successful. You’ve got to be able to move laterally and be able to have greater choice. When you do that you’ve got shafts of light coming in, you’ve got some other view corridors. It’s not just about low-rise or high-rise or mid-rise. The density is the denominator that makes the urbanism. 

What do you love best about the job and what is your skillset? 

I’m practicing today because it’s probably the most exciting period in 50 years. There’s no real dominant ideology, so everything can be evenly examined. We’ve got technology at levels unperceived when I began in the early parts of the profession. We’re able to visualize in animations all kinds of situations. We’re able to test lighting and glare. Just the whole technical level is at a point where we can look at issues in a much more intellectual manner than just intuitively.

Washington Legislative Building renovation (photos by Laura Swimmer)

The second aspect is the profile of the people you work with. When I started in Berkeley in the early ‘60s, the joke was that only the plumbers had less diversity than architects. Architecture was just a bunch of gray old men. Now, just take a look. I cannot practice today without being surrounded by people of all ages, nationalities, and different skills. Never before has it been more collaborative or more team-oriented.

You know the famous story of Edgar Kaufman getting ticked off at Frank Lloyd Wright and wanting to see how the house was coming. He got on the phone and said, ‘I’m getting in my car and I’m going to be up there in three hours.’ Wright had been doing other things and procrastinating. He sat down wildly for a few hours, and Fallingwater appeared by the time Kaufman arrived. We don’t have that today. It’s not within the mind of one person. So what you require are really great team players and collaborators.

I pride myself on having been around long enough to know that I’m an idea person. I’m not a detail person. You can talk about craft and say how wonderful craft is, and you’ll put me to sleep sooner or later. And that’s why we have people that really can do that well. I’m more interested in putting together combinations of things that haven’t been done before. ‘Why not have the psychologist in the office.’ Why not do this or why shouldn’t other things occur?’ It’s that ‘What if?’ aspect that generates new ideas. That, plus working with the creative people we have.  We’ve never had stronger talent than right now – in our office or in the profession.

 

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Schnitzer and PDC on redeveloping Centennial Mills

Centennial Mills (photo by Brian Libby)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

Recently I wrote a CityLab article called "Can an Art Collector Save a Portland Ruin?" about the efforts of Portland developer Jordan Schnitzer and his company, Harsh, to renovate the historic but badly decayed Centennial Mills along the west edge of the Willamette River north of downtown into a vibrant mixed-use destination.

"Walking through Centennial Mills...t's easy to see both deterioration and potential," I wrote. "With a golden patina to their aged brick, these former flour and seed mills provide a striking contrast to the shiny new condo towers of the adjacent Pearl District, and their proximity to this burgeoning area could also make for an ideal riverside destination. But since operations ceased in 2000, the combined 11 buildings have decayed swiftly. On a recent visit, swaths of water-damaged upstairs floors were marked with spray paint to warn of potential cave-ins. Raccoon tracks were among the subtler examples of animal intrusion, and visitors had to wear face masks."

In researching the story, I had long conversations with Jordan Schnitzer and representatives of the Portland Development Commission, including executive director Patrick Quinton and project director Bruce Wood. But only a relatively small portion of those exchanges made it into the story. I'd like to share some of those extended conversations here.

Schnitzer, whose company manages some 130 buildings in Portland and beyond, is also one of the nation's foremost art collectors. His family is the most prominent group of philanthropists in the city. For him, tackling Centennial Mills is a community investment and a personal one.

"When I was a little boy, my father would always drive us down Yeon Avenue, because that’s where his father had a scrap yard, and my father worked as a young boy and, after World War II, as a young man," Schnitzer told me. "I guess I’m wearing my civic hat first on this. Certainly if we wanted more real estate projects there would be easier ways to do it."

When PDC first tried to jump-start Centennial Mills almost a decade ago, Schnitzer and his co-developer, the late Art DeMuro (perhaps the city's greatest developer-champion of historic preservation), sought the contract but lost out to a California developer. But the project fizzled during the Great Recession, and ultimately Harsch, after DeMuro's passing, took over on its own.

"Originally we felt we would be able to preserve a lot of the buildings," Schitzer said. "As time went on, in the second round [of proposals] about two and a half years ago, there was so much more deterioration. We tragically discovered that in hindsight the city probably should have spent some money doing some level of preservation to at least preserve the option of preserving the building. Because left to their own for 12 years now, with roofs that were left open, the deterioration was huge. Imagine for your readers if they took the roof off their house and left it for 12 years what it would be like. If they had just put up some tarps and maybe spent a few hundred thousand bucks, we’d have more to work with today."

PDC, however, cautions that the original plan created in 2000 was to level all the buildings and build a park. So preserving the Centennial Mills buildings was not seemingly necessary. Only after public outcry about demolition did an alternative preservation plan materialize.

"We had a plan that, prior to the recession, was a viable plan," PDC's Quinton said. "Once the recession hit, nothing got done during that time period. There was always the question about what made sense for us to invest in the building without a project moving forward. And the dollars it would have taken to invest in the building to maintain it would have been of a scale that it took away from our dollars to re-invest in the project."

"I think you can go to cities that have preserved mill structures like this, and there have been success stories," Quinton added. "And there are cities that have demolished mill structures and re-used the land to make a success story. I don’t think there is one formula for dealing with this. Pittsburgh basically reclaimed their entire riverfront, cleared out all these mills, and there are industrial and high-tech parks pointed to as the ground zero for the transformation of their economy. So there’s definitely successful tracts either direction you go."

Currently PDC is offering to contribute $16 million toward the project. But Schnitzer believes the subsidy should be larger given the financial circumstances. "This site would probably cost about $20 million if you level everything. Not even making it into a nice park—just leveling it," he said. "Why? Because you have such complex demolition, environmental costs. Plus you’ve got a big hole there you’ve got to fill. And then you’ve got the greenway issues. So the city’s got a real issue. To do nothing, in essence, costs you 20 million bucks." Why would the city spend more to demolish Centennial Mills than in contributions to its restoration?

Although Harsch's business activities are separate from the Schitzers' philanthropic efforts, Jordan Schnitzer also knows and seems to embrace the notion that, at times, his and his family's resources can help Portland do the right thing, as happened in the past with projects like Director Park and the restoration of the Astoria Column.

"Everyone throws the word legacy around. What’s that mean? For me what this means is just as we today in this community, just as others in other communities, get the benefit of others who proceeded us, who did things for and on behalf of the community, we have an obligation to fulfill their legacy so that others will look back and have the respect for what we’ve done, taking care of this village, this community, just as others did for us," Schnitzer said.

But he also believes it's not simply a question of money so much as intent. "So many people are just driven by squeezing every last nickel out of it, realizing that you’re impacting things aesthetically, operationally, you’re affecting people’s lives," he added. "Stand back a second and realize: good design doesn’t cost more money."

Jordan Schnitzer (image courtesy Schnitzer Family Foundation)

And while Schnitzer acknowledges that not every great old building or site can be saved, Centennial Mills has added historical significance in addition to being a beautiful series of buildings and an ideal waterfront locale. He says Centennial Mills is "one of the few sites left on the waterfront that tell and talk of a time and place in the past, that was a critical building block of this community. The milling business, just like the forest products business and so forth, those were two of the major industries that helped build this state," he added. "And yet we don’t have many examples of that left. That’s why I think there was a human cry when the city bought this site and was going to tear it all down. Citizens rose up and said, ‘Hey, let’s be more thoughtful about what we’re doing.’ You could say, ‘Who is the arbiter of good design?’ But there’s an awful lot of stuff built where if they just pushed the envelope a little bit further in terms of pushing themselves and letting their heart balance with their mind."

So what will happen there? What should? "We don’t have many great spots to hang out by the river," Quinton told me. "This holds the opportunity to be both a natural place to be along the river but also adjacent to it a kind of plaza—a Director Park on the river kind of thing. I think that makes it pretty unique. Riverplace is kind of the 30-years-ago version of that, but I think it never really achieved that kind of vision. I think this is an opportunity to do that in an updated way where you have different ways of being by the river, so it’s not simply walking along the greenway."

Continuing the comparison of Centennial Mills to Riverplace, Quinton added: "I think this location is so much closer to a high concentration of city residents that I think it has advantages over Riverplace in terms of having people access it and the obstacle of crossing Front is different from what they have to do to get to Riverplace. Riverplace you have to go seek it out unless you’re coming from Waterfront Park. This one, even without a pedestrian bridge, you’re crossing at a streetlight from another really attractive park, and then one of the densest residential communities in the city. There is a built-in population there. I’m actually less concerned about whether or not people from the adjacent neighborhood can access it and more how we can get people from Gateway. From an access standpoint, if we do it right, that’s how it will be viewed. Of course people from the Pearl will walk over. But I think we have to make it feel more accessible for a wider audience."

Quinton also believes the improving economy helps. "There’s a ton of housing being built, and we’re also beginning to see new office being built. So in some respects it gives us the luxury of not having to solve any type of need for office space and housing with this site," he added. "This is really a place-making opportunity for us. What type of mix of activity will make this a great place? As opposed to some quota for 200 housing units. We can think of different mixes and profiles that makes this a more interesting place. This project benefits from the fact that this is becoming such a dense area. This project gets to tackle this thing of how we make this a great place, a continuation of Jamison and Tanner Springs and The Fields. It’s more along that legacy."

"It was originally purchased as part of a plan to create a park. During the process of demolition, a lot of citizens said, ‘Don’t tear it down.’ I do think it says a lot about the values of Portland," PDC's Bruce Wood added. "Mayor Potter at the time heard that. They put together a large task force of citizens and said, ‘Let’s take a look at that.’ It was a huge effort. Here we are with a plan that actually addresses that framework plan set in motion in 2006."

The plan now is to save two of the largest and most iconic flour and seed mill buildings and to fill the rest with new construction, including an events center that Schnitzer says he has reached out to Frank Gehry about designing. The hope is also to create a place where citizens can get up close to the water, including a boat dock.

"I think most cities would wrestle with this project and say, ‘What’s the tradeoff?’ The other odd thing in Portland is in other cities, property values and rents are such that the private development community will naturally preserve these developments because they’re cooler, basically," Quinton said. "Here, because of the economics and the seismic issues, the public has to intervene. Otherwise they don’t happen. We have more public conversations because the market isn’t at a level to act on its own. Places like Boston and New York, they know they can fetch top dollar. I think it’s about capital and deep pockts. Harsch is one of the few entities in town that has the capital to take a big-picture view of the project. There just aren’t as many large real estate companies that are well capitalized and can hold them and be patient and curate them."

And that's where Schnitzer and Harsch come in: not simply as a developer, but not strictly as a philanthopist. "Jordan is very charismatic," said Wood, who previously worked for Harsch before coming to PDC. "He’s very passionate about the things that he loves. He’s at his very best when he’s involved in civic item because he loves that stuff, whether it’s art or the High Desert Museum or Astoria Column. I think he enjoys those things even more than running his company. He has an amazing ability to get things done in that public realm, like the Astoria Column. He raised a ton of money to get that done. Same with the High Desert Museum. I think that’s the gift that he has. He’s got a very good, strong team. In some of those areas where he’s not as technically proficient, he’s got really good people around him."

When I visited Harsch's offices, it was impossible not to notice the incredible array of contemporary art placed throughout: on cubicle walls, in the lobby, by the bathroom: everywhere. I didn't see a single photo of a Harsch project there. Wood remembers when the office was reconfigured in the 1990s, to add more art.  

"The desks, the furniture and everything were placed not just for their function but because of the art placed on the walls. I always thought that was a great lesson," Wood told me. "I remember the maintenance guys having a hard time with these heavy desks as Arlene and Jordan figured out the best places to place the desks in a way that would compliment the art. But that building is like a home. It’s run like a family enterprise, and they have a different metric. It’s about art and legacy. And this project needs something like that. Because if you look at the numbers on this project, it would never happen. This project is that complicated. It needs somebody who’s going to put a little more effort into it."

Which Schnitzer seems to understand. "Being in Portland, we’re a pretty new city," he explained. "The cities on the East Coast aren’t even that old. You go to Europe and you see things a thousand, two thousand years old. So therefore I think we have an obligation here to preserve those things we have because we have so few of them. We don’t have a lot of old churches. We don’t have a lot of old stuff.’ He says, ‘That’s exactly right. Jordan, in a hundred years, it will be 175 years old. In 500 years, it will be 575 years old. So don’t start comparing this to the Sphinx. You’re doing this for the right reasons.’ And that’s why some of this should be restored. That’s the perspective that I think isn’t coming across too well to a lot of people here. Therefore it’s the job of people like me and people like you to say, ‘Hey, we’re not going crazy. We’re not trying to save everything. But we have an obligation and a responsibility to save those things that others in the future will be glad we saved. Therefore you have to put that into a different context."

 

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Design calendar: January 2015

An apartment building on SE Morrison (photo by Brian Libby)

BY BRIAN LIBBY

Shaping Light with Folded Surfaces - Materials & Methods
Nancy Cheng experiments with how sheet materials can be cut, creased, or crimped to generate lighting effects that change with the sun's movement, while blocking unwanted heat and glare. Her Shaping Light project explores how physical prototyping and digital methods can be combined to foreground material properties in design. Cheng has been teaching sustainable architectural design and design communication at the University of Oregon since 1996, and directed its Architecture Department's Portland Architecture Program from 2009-2013. She previously taught at the University of Hong Kong, connecting global partners inVirtual Design Studios.  Since that time, she has used social media, electronic portfolios and international exchange programs to link students to professional experts. Cheng has headed the Association for Computer Aided Design in Architecture (ACADIA), the national AIA Technology in Architectural Practice group, and edited issues of the International Journal of Architectural Computing. Her talk is part of the University of Oregon's 100 + 20 lecture series. University of Oregon, White Stag Block, 70 NW Couch Street. 12:00pm Thursday, January 8. Free.

Frank Escher & Ravi GuneWardena
Established by Frank Escher and Ravi GuneWardena in 1995, Escher GuneWardena Architecture has an extraordinary range of projects, reflecting the firm’s broad cultural interests. Projects include  Dwell Home II (a prototype for a sustainable living), the Jamie residence in Pasadena (a house lofted on two concrete towers above its precipitous site), the Sola/Wright residence in (three thermoplastic-wrapped volumes stepping up a hill), and the recent House with Five Corners. The firm’s interest in contemporary art has led to the design of major exhibitions and galleries (Blum and Poe), as well as collaborations with artists, including Sharon Lockhart (LACMA; the Secession, Vienna; Walker; Thyssen-Bornemisza, Vienna); Olafur Eliasson (Emi Fontana/West of Rome at Escher GuneWardena's Jamie Residence), Mike Kelley (Sculpture Projects Muenster 07; Sculpture Center, NY), and Stephen (Secession, Vienna; LACMA). In the fall of, 2009 Escher and GuneWardena curated and designed the exhibition ‘Folly – The View from Nowhere’ at MOCA's Pacific Design Center Space. Escher and GuneWardena will lecture at the University of Oregon as part of its 100 + 20 Architecture Lecture Series. University of Oregon, White Stag Block, 70 NW Couch Street. 5:30pm Tuesday, January 13. Free.

Design Junction: Gabriel Tan
This lecture, part of the University of Oregon's 100 + 20 lecture series, will explore design as a crossroad between designers and artisans, industries, businesses, and consumers. Tan, a partner and cofounder of Outofstock, a design studio based in Singapore, Barcelona, and Buenos Aires, will speak about the dynamics of these relationships and how designers approach projects differently with an understanding of the stakeholders involved. Outofstock’s work has been exhibited at Milan Design Week, Tokyo Designers Week, London Design Festival, IMM Cologne, Maison & Objet Paris, and the Singapore Art Museum. University of Oregon, White Stag Block, 70 NW Couch Street. 5:30pm Wednesday, January 21. Free.

Emerging Professionals Happy Hour
Portland's Opsis Architecture is the host for 2015's first gathering of young architects and designers, part of an ongoing series devoted to networking and camaraderie among local building industry professionals. Opsis Architecture, 920 NW 17th Avenue. 5:30PM Thursday, January 22. Free.

Adam Caruso: The Fallacy of Modernism
From the great competitions in architectural history (the Crystal Palace, the League of Nations, the Sydney Opera House) to the proverbial competition for papal patronage between Bernini and Borromini to the recurrent issue of competing architectural technologies, theories or ideologies, the phenomenon of competition has had a central role in our discipline. This lecture by Adam Caruso is the second in Portland State University School of Architecture's 2014-2015 lecture series, titled "Vs.," which tackles the theme of competition.  Caruso is a founding partner of Caruso St John Architects, an international practice with an interest in the emotional potential and physical qualities of construction. Caruso St John engage a wide range of work at a variety of scales and aim to resist the trend of increased size and specialization dominating contemporary architecture. Their New Art Gallery at Walsall and the Brick House in London have been shortlisted for the Stirling Prize, UK’s most prestigious architecture award. Current clients include Tate Britain, the City of Lille, Bremer Landesbank, and the Swiss National Railways. Portland State University, Shattuck Hall Annex, SW Broadway at Hall Street. 6PM Thursday, January 22. Free. 

Reading the Portland Vernacular: Recognizing and Appreciating Our Everyday Houses
Portland is well known for the overall quality of its residential neighborhoods but its most common ohouses can be very challenging to classify using the descriptions found in most architecture books. Although we have well-developed names, like Colonial Revival or Arts & Crafts, for the larger mansions and older historic dwellings, we have few standards for identifying the houses in which most of us live. In this Architectural Heritage Center lecture, Thomas Hubka describes the ways we can identify and name Portland’s most common houses according to both their architectural styles and typical floor plans. Hubka is an emeritus architecture professor at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and the author of "Houses Without Names: Architectural Nomenclature and the Classification of America’s Common Houses." Architectural Heritage Center, 701 SE Grand Avenue. 10AM Saturday, January 24. $20 ($12 for AHC members).

The Day After:  Looking Ahead to Post-Earthquake Portland
On January 26, 1700, a magnitude 9 earthquake struck the entire Pacific Northwest. Zoom ahead to the next Cascadia Subduction Zone quake—whether it occurs in the next 50 years or the next 50 seconds—and the story will be far different for what is now a metropolitan area of 2.3 million. Mercy Corps Northwest, the University of Oregon's John Yeon Center and Portland Monthly have joined together for the 315th anniversary of the last Big One for a glimpse ahead to the weeks and the years following the next one. Randy Gragg will host a discussion with Carmen Merlo, Portland’s director of emergency management (who will report on her recent research trip to Christchurch, New Zealand, the city similar in size and building stock that in 2010 and ’11 suffered quakes and 13,000 aftershocks much like Portland is likely experience), as well as Joe Zehnder, Portland’s chief planner. Mercy Corps Action Center, 28 SW 1st Avenue. 6PM Monday, January 26. Free. 

Housing and Education: Designing for Social Programs
The 100+20 Architecture Lecture Series at the University of Oregon continues with French architect Isabelle Biro, the principal of Atelier Isabelle Biro in Paris. Since its founding in 1985, the firm has focused primarily on the design of public school buildings and multifamily housing (logements collectifs) for urban and suburban sites in France. The housing work is founded on an ethic of social good, affordability, and access with a focus on housing unit design, on continuity of exterior spaces, on flexibility of use, and on design for future adaptation. Biro holds a Diplome d’architecture (DPLG) and is a graduate of L’École Nationale Supérieure des Arts Décoratifs (l’ENSAD) and L'Ecole Nationale Supérieure des Beaux Arts (UP6). Biro has taught architecture and design at L’Ecole d’Architecture de la Ville et des Territories, Marne-la-Vallée, Cal Poly Pomona, SCI-Arc, UCLA, and the University of Southern California. University of Oregon, White Stag Block, 70 NW Couch Street. 6PM Tuesday, January 27. Free.

Architects Without Borders: Schools in the Developing World
AWB's first meeting of the year will feature a video about the Druk White Lotus School in Ladakh, a mountainous region of Northern India. The firm that designed the school considered solar orientation, local building materials and techniques, the extreme climate, and Tibetan Buddhist beliefs. After the screening, AWB volunteers will discuss similarities and differences between the Druk White Lotus School and schools AWB has been working on in Nepal, Tanzania, Ethiopia, and the Democratic Republic of Congo. AIA Center for Architecture, 403 NW 11th Ave. 6PM Wednesday, January 28. Free.

Data x Design x Health
A conversation between visionary minds from the medical community as they consider the ever-changing healthcare industry. With healthcare’s advancements in technology and data, our expert panel will examine that manner in which medical data and design technology are used today to closely monitor health in ways never before possible. Panelists include Chris Tobias of GE Healthcare; Nancy Vuckovic, PhD, a senior ethnographer with Intel's Digital Health Group; Kim Burchiel, MD, chair of OHSU's Department of Neurological Surgery; and Austin Angell, CEO and creative director of Modern Edge. CENTRL Office, 1355 NW Everett Street. 6:30PM Thursday, January 29. $10 (free for Design Museum Portland members).

The Basics of Architectural Photography
It’s not always easy to capture in a photograph what you can see with your eyes, and photographing architecture is no exception. Portland architect and photographer Richard Lishner (richardlishnerphotography.com) will guide attendees of this workshop through some basic approaches to photographing architecture in Portland or anywhere else. Architectural Heritage Center, 701 SE Grand Avenue. 10AM Saturday, January 31. $25 ($15 for AHC members).

 

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