BRIAN LIBBY

The Missing Signs

I'm writing this from New York, and last night I walked past St. Vincent's hospital in the West Village, where scores of victims from the World Trade Center victims were sent. On an outside wall of the hospital they've kept and preserved hundreds of hand-made missing signs posted there just after September 11, from family and friends striving desperately to track down people who worked on the uppermost floors of the twin towers. It struck me that in the two and a half years since that day, 9/11 has become politicized as a lightning rod relating to the war on terror, Iraq, the Bush administration, and so on. But standing there looking at the missing signs, it all was so simple again. Thousands of people died tragically on one day, and it's just hopelessly sad. End of story. St. Vincent's is just blocks away from many places in New York I used to hang out happily, from Ray's Pizza to the Village Vanguard jazz club. But it all seems so long ago now.

Bill Clinton

I just read a long and fascinating article in Vanity Fair about what Bill Clinton has been up to since leaving office. Somewhat aside from politics, or at least in addition to it, I simply find Clinton to be a fascinating human being, a kind of modern-day Shakespearean figure.

Clinton has an incredibly voracious, insatiable need for human contact of all kinds. Saying that of course brings to mind a flurry of jokes about what that “contact” often entails with obliging women. But that’s not necessarily what I mean. As someone who enjoys being alone, I’m interested in the psychology of a man who can’t stand to go for seemingly any part of the day or even night without human contact. Clinton is famous for calling friends at all hours, for staying after a public appearance to shake every last admirer’s hand. Where does that need come from?

Both his blessing and his curse is that Clinton’s interests, be they policy-related or otherwise, sprawl in every direction. As president this lack of sustained focus often was detrimental, especially early in his administration. But it felt so great to see a president who just seemed on top of everything, not just reading prepared remarks from his advisors. Since he’s been out of office, Clinton has been searching for a direction. He’s taken several steps to fight AIDS in the developing world, but his interests often tear him in other directions too.

I’m purposely sidestepping the more obvious political discussion to have here, and I know Clinton has always been a divisive figure—not by what he does or says, but how people respond to him. Virtually everybody seems to either love the guy (like me) or hate the guy (like my family). But that’s a conversation for another time. (In other words, please spare me your Bill-bashing in the comments section. You are so barking up the wrong tree.) I’m just saying that I find Clinton to be more of a larger-than-life figure than even any of the other presidents, prime ministers, senators and other leaders of our time. Maybe that proposed talk show wasn’t such a great idea, but I really hope Clinton finds a way to stay in the limelight for the right reasons and not the wrong ones.

Seasons' Sound

With spring in full-bloom, it's been great having that wonderfully warm but not too warm weather, with plenty of sunshine and beautiful clouds rolling by. But each year spring and summer also mean two things. First, we've got our windows open, meaning a greater connection sound-wise to what's happening outside. And second, there are a lot more noises happening outside. Not only are people out and about more, choosing to walk when the winter rains might more often have restricted them to cars and building interiors. Not only are birds chirping after or amidst a return from the south. But there are also lawn mowers going, and leaf blowers, and roto-tillers. It's the last of these I have a hard time getting used to. I hate to use that "If we can put a man on the moon..." cliche, but isn't it possible by now to create a technology for taking care of grass and leaves that doesn't involve an ultra-loud gasoline engine? Thankfully my neighbors across the street use one of those antiquated slipped-disc-inducing manual lawn mowers, but the landscapers contracted by our landlord and some people down the street prefer to gas up their lawn equipment. I don't miss winter weather, but sometimes the hushed silence of that season--when only the falling rain and an occasional passing car--are the only sound.

Office Commercials and Mass Hypnosis

Lately there has been a succession of TV commercials that feature slow-motion montages of office workers going bonkers with celebration: gyrating in the air, stumbling into massive group hugs, etc. On the surface it's supposed to be an ironic parody, which would be pretty much innocuous if that were all there were to it. But I think ultimately those commercials are also really patronizing if not outright detrimental.

For years I worked at many different offices as a temp, and at each one I remember at least one person saying something to the effect of, "Boy Brian, I'll bet you've never worked with such a bunch of crazies as we have here!" But virtually any time I heard that, it couldn't have been further from the truth. Invariably the bunch in question was as exotic as a bologna sandwich on Wonder bread. So when I saw these commercials by Microsoft and Southwest Airlines with their tongue-in-cheek portrayals of offices as these unbridled fountains of emotion and fun, it immediately touched a nerve.

Of course there are countless offices where amazing work is being done. Still, the culture of cubicles can be stifling, and even in the best offices people aren't diving into each others arms for group hugs. To say so is absurd, which in turn is the basis of the parody in those commercials. But I think at the same time the advertising actually encourages people's self-indulgent and in delusional sense of what their office environments are like. It lulls oppressive office cultures into ignoring the obvious.

Then again, I haven't worked in an office in about three and a half years. Maybe I just need to talk to someone in HR at my company about taking some personal leave...at least for the rest of the afternoon.

Designing Women (and Men)

Last weekend I attended the Oregon Design Conference at Salishan Resort on the coast near Lincoln City. First of all, it was great to finally see Salishan, because the circa-1968 resort (designed by John Storrs) has been long been lauded for its architecture, a simple but striking series of modern wood and glass buildings that provide an ideal example of the so-called "Northwest Style". But more than that, the conference got me hopeful for architecture again.

Here in Portland and virtually everywhere else, there are so many mediocre or bad buildings that get built, even ones with big budgets. It gets tiresome, just like bad Hollywood blockbusters, the typically laughable list of best-selling books, or the unlistenable sounds-du-jour of most popular major-label recording artists. But seeing and hearing about the work of people and firms like Lawrence Scarpa, Alex Lifschutz, Colab and Helene Fried at the conference was very inspiring. It brought to mind a lot of ideas.

I'm excited these days by examples of architects who are acting as their own developers, preventing developers from compromising their designs. It's also encouraging to hear about public projects that may come to fruition, like the James Beard Public Market in Portland. Having our Pacific Northwest region act as a forerunner in sustainable design is a source of pride, although I have increasingly begun to worry that the fervor people have for it can destract us from creating or attending to good overall design. As desperately necessary for the planet as sustainable architecture is, still I seek the more intangible soul-grabbing feel of great architecture, be it the poetry of its form or the satisfaction its ingenuity and utility brings.

And while Portland is frustratingly short of truly magnificent individual buildings, it also possesses more than enough talent to raise the architectural bar, with Allied Works, Colab, BOORA, Holst, Architropolis and Richard Potestio all supremely able. Besides, things aren't exactly dire here, because Portland's urban fabric collectively makes for a better experience than that of virtually any other American city.