Saturday, October 6, 2007

19. Promote your name or lose your fame.




If you believe, as many people do, that the Sydney Opera House is the most famous piece of architecture to be produced in the 20th century, then it follows that the man who designed it, or most of it, Jørn Utzon is one of the most famous architects of that century, nothing less than a genius.

Yet Richard Weston, author of a new book on Utzon, points out that the architect has a relatively low public profile and many architectural historians have neglected his work.


This is perhaps because Utzon, unlike most major architects, has no set predictable style, no school of followers. Nor has he aggressively pushed his views into the public realm as other famous architects have. Not for him the celebrated marathon public lectures of Buckminster Fuller, or the short pithy catchphrases of Frank Lloyd Wright. And indeed for much of his life he has resisted being written about.

The first book to be produced with Utzon’s full co-operation has been written by Professor Weston from Cardiff University’s School of Architecture. And it’s size and considerable weight is the first indication that it’s credentials surveying Utzon’s life and most important work.



Utzon
Author: Richard Weston
Publisher: Edition Blondal 2002
Distributed in Australia by David Messent Photography
Available from Sydney Opera House and the architecture section of good book stores.




From http://www.abc.net.au/rn/czone/stories/s709532.htm. "the comfort zone" with Alan Saunders

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Saturday, September 29, 2007

18. Make it Different

There is one thing that the work of celebrated architects has in common. I am not referring to the fact that their buildings are necessarily more beautiful than those of their less-acclaimed colleagues (in any case, that is not always true), nor that serious architects generally imbue their designs with loftier aspirations than everyday builders. What I am thinking of is something more obvious: that most buildings designed by acclaimed architects, whatever else they are, are different.



What I mean is not merely that they are different one from another, but that they stand apart -- they embody an air of detachment from the world around them. This isolation can be the result of the form of the building. There is nothing else in New York, or indeed in any other city, like the dumpy spiral of the Guggenheim Museum. Sometimes the difference is the result of structural leger demain, like the odd, reverse-stepping facade of the Whitney Museum; or Edward Larrabee Barnes's I.B.M. Building, on Madison Avenue, which looks ordinary enough, until one notices the gravity-defying corner, floating unsupported over the sidewalk. Frequently, famous architects just have the opportunity to do things on a bigger scale than anybody else. Arthur Erickson's Law Courts in Vancouver, B.C., are located under a glass roof, which could be described as a sort of greenhouse, but a greenhouse 350 feet long.


Some buildings startle us with unorthodox materials, such as chain-link fencing, lead-coated copper, or raw plywood, all of which have appeared in Frank Gehry's designs. James Stirling is particularly skillful at the shock effect. No one who has ever seen his Staatsgalerie,

in Stuttgart, Germany, will forget the hot-pink balustrades, as thick as wurst, or the acid-green floor of the entrance hall; the crazy-quilt work of the front of the recently completed Clore Gallery, in London, is equally memorable. Antoine Predock's designs have often used color to effect; the exterior of the United Blood Services building, a blood-donor clinic in Albuquerque, N.M., is startlingly, but appropriately, red, and a pueblolike apartment complex, also in Albuquerque, achieves its major impact from its unusual polychromy.

A striking difference between most works of architecture, and, say, your local K Mart, is that the architecture usually costs a lot more. There is nothing like expensive materials, exacting workmanship, custom-made fittings and elegant appointments to create an atmosphere of exclusiveness. It is the architectural equivalent of the "thunk" you hear when you close the door of a luxury sedan. What sets a luxury car apart from the econobox is also the way it is put together, what automobile devotees call good fit. In buildings, too, there is good fit.

It was Mies van der Rohe who is reputed to have said, "God is in the details." The origin of this statement, like that of his other well-known aphorism -- "Less is more" -- is obscure; no one is sure exactly when he said it. It would be interesting to know the context. Was the famous architect answering a question, and, if so, what was it? For example, had someone asked him about his design for the Illinois Institute of Technology chapel -- the one that resembles a boiler house: "Professor van der Rohe, where is God in this building?" Or had the question to do with his consuming, almost obsessive concern for precision and exactitude in building construction?

Probably the latter, for what characterized all his buildings was the careful and studied way in which they were built. There were no accidents; every corner, every meeting of materials, every point, inside and out, was specially designed to be a part of an esthetic whole. No detail was too small to be pondered. When the British property developer John Palumbo engaged Mies to design an office building on London's Mansion House Square (it was to be his last commission), the first communication he received from the architect, who lived in Chicago, was not a preliminary sketch but a parcel containing brass door handles and travertine ashtrays. "Is this what you had in mind?" queried the accompanying note.

The architectural consequences of such fastidiousness are impressive, but they can also be disconcerting. Whenever I go into a Mies van der Rohe building I am slightly intimidated. I feel like an interloper in another world, one that is flawless, unequivocal and absolute. A perfect world for perfect people.

Mies's influence has waned since his death in 1969, but in one sense, at least, all contemporary architects are Miesians, for all share his overriding preoccupation with perfection. Whether they are modernists, post-modernists, or deconstructivists, their buildings exhibit the same desire to bring every facet of the building under their esthetic control, and the same tendency to reject conventional ways of doing things for specially designed ones that carry their personal stamp.

Mies van der Rohe designed his window frames the same way he designed his structures, using standard steel profiles, welded together, which made the windows appear to be an integral part of the building. Le Corbusier, seeking a different effect, often set the window glass directly into a groove in the concrete wall, thus doing away with the window frame altogether, and producing the unexpectedly rustic impression of an opening cut directly into the wall.

The work of Louis Kahn derived much of its impact from a careful articulation of the joints -- the location of every brick was predetermined -- which sometimes makes his buildings look as if they were the work of a cabinetmaker rather than an architect. An interior by Richard Meier achieves its minimalist impression because the designer has ingeniously done away with most of the moldings and joints that occur in ordinary rooms, which enables all the surfaces -- walls, ceilings, soffits -- to blend seamlessly into a sculptural whole. The simplicity is deceptive; in fact, such subterfuge is both difficult and expensive.

It seems to me that this emphasis on the minutiae of construction is something modern. In the past, architects relied on craftsmen and builders to carry out their work, and did not concern themselves with inventing new construction details. Of course, buildings had details, but at any particular time these did not vary a great deal since they followed strict conventions. Ornament, not construction, was the way architects dealt with the joints and junctions.

When the modernists banished ornament from architecture, they were obliged to replace it with something, and construction details became a new type of decoration. In time, this technical adornment became more imaginative, more personal, but also more precious, and fussier. Beauty had been re interpreted as mechanical perfection.

There is some indication that this situation may now be slowly changing. With a renewed interest on the part of some architects in figurative ornament, there is no longer a need to adorn the building with unusual and peculiar details. The recent work of Michael Graves, or Robert A. M. Stern, for example, achieves its chief architectural impact through decoration and the ornamental treatment of surfaces rather than from finicky joints. The forms and colors may be unusual, but the technical bits and pieces, more often than not, are ordinary. The result is that their buildings, while losing nothing in originality, are also more familiar. They may not be perfect, but then neither are we.

From The New York Times; "It Seems That God Isn't in the Details, After All" By Witold Rybczynski

Friday, September 28, 2007

17. Blow your own horn!

The ONE thing that keeps most people from becoming rich and famous - and how YOU can grab that crucial advantage for yourself!


What's the one thing that keeps people from achieving the wealth and fame they probably deserve? It's so simple, yet almost nobody knows how to do it. Without this one thing, you might achieve a little and do okay, but getting rich and famous will be far, far out of your reach. So, what is this one crucial ingredient for the ultimate success? Blow your own horn!



That's right--most people don't know how to blow their own horn. They don't know how to QUICKLY IMPRESS you with how much they know, how helpful they can be, how much they have achieved, how fast they can get new information, AND - most importantly - how they can help YOU get what you want.



Promoting yourself is absolutely crucial to becoming a well-known, trusted figure in your field. And mark my word, once you become "famous" earning a fat paycheck is not far behind. Doors will open. People with healthy bank accounts and wallets fat with credit cards will practically INVENT ways to give you money. All it takes is a deep breath and a little know-how.
So let's start promoting you.

Here's how:

1. Write down a list of every cool thing you have ever done. Make note of all the fun, interesting, complicated, or action-filled experiences of your life. Try to slant your list toward experiences that could show how you can help somebody else in your field.
For example's sake, let's say your list includes:* Took a lifeguard course--learned CPR and how to keep cool in emergency situations.* Worked your way up to assistant manager at a donut shop where you were in charge of arranging work schedules and ordering new inventory.* Spent a couple of years going to college where you took English composition, physical science, two business management courses, and financial accounting.* Now you read the boss's copy of the Wall Street Journal every day, and spent last Saturday at the library sitting in a comfy chair reading through all the latest popular business books.
Now let's BLOW YOUR HORN. Granted, there are millions of people who have experience very much like yours, but there is no reason we have to make you sound ordinary.

2. Write a paragraph that briefly shows how your life experience qualifies you to be a big help to someone in your field. Let's say you want to consult over-worked managers like your boss. Your paragraph might be:
I learned how to think clearly and act fast in crucial situations while training to be a life guard. Later I mastered managing people and materials while working in management and inventory control for a busy mid-sized business. That experience, in addition to my university training in management, analytical thinking, and concise communication, have given me a sharp mind and a cool head. Now I stay abreast of cutting-edge trends through industry periodicals and books by important thinkers.
Wow! You sound pretty impressive, don't you? A boss in sore need of clear thinking and new ideas (and what manager isn't?) would welcome having a person like you sitting in her office tossing out thoughts and ideas. And it's all because you learned how to blow your own horn.

3. Now get covered by media. Mass media has mass audiences. It is the instant way to become famous. Start by dong something that gives media a reason to feature you. You can:
* Crate something big and important* Stage an event that is visual, unusual, or downright crazy* Comment publicly on a current controversy* Write an article for trade publications or ezines* Write a short book and publish it yourself, then send copies to local radio, TV, and newspapers.

4. Repeat the process as often as you can. Keep adding your accomplishments to your "Blow Your Horn" paragraph. When you create a new event, tell about it in a press release, including your "Blow Your Horn" paragraph at the bottom. Send the release to local media, trade publications, and businesses you might want to work with.
If you get nothing else from this article, get this: Don't keep your greatness a secret. YOU ARE GOOD AT SEVERAL THINGS. Tell the world!



by Kevin Nunley
http://DrNunley.com

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