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Interestingly, when I created Splitting Mediums in 2005, I rooted for the privileged in their struggle against “human debris” (as I called the millions of humans who didn’t fit the hierarchical pattern of modernity). I created a world where they could escape all the decay and cultural devolution. I pictured myself in the quiet, detached suburban home while security forces maintained the border. I was acting within the paradigm of professional expertise in which the trained elite, the keepers of civilization, were better equipped to mete out truth and justice. This is where I see our profession today. We are kicking against the pricks, using our professional status to help the state hold the cauldron’s lid down. UNBUILT WORK the design process

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The project itself grew out of frustration that my firm failed to recognize how qualified I was to design the world. I credit this confidence to my education. Nikos Salingaros (2013) writes that ever since the Bauhaus architecture schools have tried to “restructure society for the betterment of all people; whether those welcome this or not,” architecture schools have dismissed “passed methods of design” as sentimental, and rejected the appeal to “human scale” as “an indication of human weakness” (p.29). This may seem overly harsh, but only in terms of degree. The rhetoric of architectural education affirms responsiveness to social and environmental forces while the system of reward and punishment allows students to thrive without

much thought to these. When those forces are considered, the solutions are rarely evidence based.

My over confidence wasn’t a problem with my professors, my school, or myself. It’s a problem rooted in the design studio process. For most of human history everyone was “engaged in shaping the environment and [was] thus engaged in design” and this process led to “congruence” between culture, nature, and the built environment (Rapaport, 1976, P.22). Vernacular approaches to settlement and dwelling production maintains a strong relationship with the environment (Rapoport 1976, 1988). Unlike ‘high-style’ designs where architects can generate multiple iterations in a controlled environment, taking months or even years to decide on a solution, vernacular design must respond to immediate needs of the site. Architects can’t produce culturally and environmentally responsive architecture within the current paradigm. However, architects can and do maintain current power structures by and through the current modes of spatial production this paradigm dictates.

second year

third year

fourth year

fourth year

fifth year My partner and I are Lord of the Rings fans. Because of that, we chose a city in New Zealand for a steel competition. The city is Dunedin, which we liked because it sounds like Dunedane. The center of Dunedin has a formal octagonal layout with the center being an important plaza. However, it’s bisected by a busy street. The middle ring of The Octagon is completely lined with buildings or parks that address the streets except one surface parking lot. We proposed completing the urban fabric, creating a new plaza, and connecting it to the existing plaza.

Anchoring the site is a bank. We wanted it to disappear so we embedded the facade with reflective squares.

A tower would form landmark to direct people down the path to the plaza. The top of the tower would give people a panoramic view of Dunedin, from the hills to the harbor.

first floor

site section

I’m excited about the possibilities for Harding University Baseball Facility, excited, but also apprehensive. Excited because every project is a new opportunity to promote Architecture, apprehensive because opportunities lost truly hurt. I’m not sure I can express what Architecture means to me. Though HARDING BASEBALL it’s NOT religion for me, it IS what I was created to do and therefore I have a passion to fulfill my purpose. 2012 Writing this is something I have to do, though not something I particularly want to do. There are two reasons I’m reluctant to write this proposition. One, I make myself open to scrutiny, scorn, or disapproval. If I say nothing, I don’t have to defend anything and potential for conflict is avoided. Two, nothing happens, I’m ignored. I share what’s burning my heart and in return get a dismissive response intended to divert my attention or postpone my desire (This has happened to me here more times than I can count). Then there’s the chance you’ll appreciate it and I’ll be closer to doing what I’m passionate about. Either way, there’s no going back to the way it was before. My intentions are twofold. One, I hope to influence your decision on what Harding could or should be. Two, I think part of this could be used to influence Harding’s decision on what this could or should be. I understand money is an issue and money is tight but I think of it this way. I had an old Razor phone that I gave away. It made and received calls, it stored contacts, it took grainy pictures, and it had other functions. It had some value. I never gave much thought to selling it for even a small amount because I knew no one would buy it. I also had an iPhone, I sold it for $100.00. The person who bought my iPhone would have paid more but would not have even paid 10.00 for my Razor though they functioned similarly. People are willing to pay for high quality. Since we know that’s true wouldn’t it also be true that people are willing to pay more for quality architecture than for metal a building? Architecture that transcends its circumstances, though still reasonable, should be able to inspire more in donations than a metal building. The commentary below is an attempt to articulate my concept for the practice facility. Mesh is What Baseball Looks Like I’m an architect (unlicensed). I can’t help but do architecture. Space planning is for space planners. I’m interested in how the building is experienced. When a building becomes Architecture shelter becomes music, esoteric manifestation becomes yours, a pre-manufactured building re Architecture has to come from somewhere, have an intended function, or it’s not architecture, it’s art. There’s nothing wrong with art, in fact, architecture’s reliance on function sinks it several rungs lower than the highest art form which is music but it gains some steps when the form is not a leftover surface treatment applied to a function. What architects do is design space starting with how the space will feel given the context of its function. In this way function doesn’t become a dictator shaping the whole building but is a partner with form. The essence of Architecture includes light, views, opacity, texture, compression, anticipation, and release. Now we have an 800 lb gorilla to deal with. This facility has to be big in order to serve its function but it can’t cost too much. When I see pre-manufactured buildings I think first on how unexceptional they are and second of how monolithic and huge they are. This isn’t a problem for a warehouse or manufacturing facility but is inappropriate for baseball. The fans will have their aesthetic experience of watching baseball weakened by the presence of a bland metal building. The players will have their training for excellence weakened by the banality of a metal building. Yet, the benefit of a pre-manufactured building cannot be ignored. So instead of an opaque, bland, bulky metal building we can have a translucent, vibrant, light metal building. Below are examples of an athletic facility in France which utilizes chain link fence over cellular polycarbonate. Note the interplay of light and opacity and dynamic, almost skin like layering.

What is the character of baseball? Is it elegant? Yes. Is it awkward? Yes. It’s also mechanically precise, haphazard, fast, slow, beautiful and ugly. It’s a sport for great athletes and a game for children. It’s a contradiction. Architecture can materialize as visibly interesting contradictions, but how can it be specific to baseball? The mesh backstop is the essential form of baseball.

I was asked to draw plans for a baseball facility for Harding University. It would include lockers, batting cages, coaches’ offices, a training room, and storage. Even though it was supposed to be solely a production project, I approached it as a design challenge. I wrote a concept essay, did design options, material research, and printed presentation boards. The client wasn’t given the opportunity to see the design options I did, and a metal building sits where a nice building could have been. This helped me realize that many architects view their profession as little else than a business. This is not entirely bad but has important limitations and is easily instrumentalized by the powerful.

2013

STOREFRONTBRANDINGSTUDY

“Billboard”Option 7.03.2013

STOREFRONTBRANDINGSTUDY

6.25.2013

2013

This was to be a mixed-use office and retail building in Songjiang, China near Shanghai. The client also wanted a sculpture garden to display his art-work. The site is energetic with a mixture of light-industrial, warehouse, and residential uses. I was influenced by Morphosis’ “combinatory urbanism” in which the architecture is more than a stand-alone building but a combination of site forces. The design process began with several study models that show various responses to the site.

in progress There’s a tension created when one has limited income and good taste. This tension leads to prioritizing, simplifying, and innovating.

My brother is building a home on a beautiful property in the Arkansas Ozarks, which must accommodate both his large family and our aging parents. He’s saving money by using a per-manufactured metal building with standard and reclaimed materials and working as his own general contractor. This will allow him to spend money on more important features that enhance the home experience, create outdoor spaces, and use light as a design element.

in progress A mountain retreat on the Little Mulberry. It’s designed to immerse you in the surrounding Ozarks by taking advantage of views to Mulberry Creek, the mountains, and the surrounding forest while capturing the vernacular architecture of the Boston Mountains.

There are two paradigms in the architecture profession. One is architecture as business/ service. The other is architect as artist/savior of humanity. I was of the latter, and it caused me anxiety and annoyance because firms that valorize architecture as an art are the minority. I wanted architecture to matter beyond budgets, multipliers, billable hours, and properly filed RFIs. What I learned in architecture school, that I was a designer fit to shape the world, conflicted with my role as a service employee serving rich clients and governments. The studio culture in school fostered a creative environment where I designed spatial experiences and pushed aesthetic possibilities. I was experiencing what Tom Spector (2001) calls “the moral dilemmas of building” in which architects “balance between legitimate public concerns and private demands” (p.7). However, I interpreted “legitimate public concerns” as architectural style that clients, whether public or private should accept because I’m the expert. De Carlo (2005) was critical of the notion that “decisions about where and how” of the built environment should be concentrated with architects because they have the artistic and technological expertise (p.13), but I would have welcomed it.

I took this photograph from Sapphire Tower, Istanbul in 2016. It shows the Levent District on the left and Gultepe on the right. Levent is home to multi-national corporations and banks. It’s the heart of wealth in Turkey. Several of the buildings were designed by famous, award-winning architects. Gultepe is a middle/lower-class neighborhood that evolved from a squatter slum. Levent is the convergence of architecture as art and business, while Gultepe is an example of architecture without architects. Levent is exclusive because only the wealthy can live, work, and produce more wealth there. Gultepe is inclusive because the small scale allows diverse business and living arrangements. People have risen out of poverty by controlling the spatial production of Gultepe. Gultepe is being overtaken by the same mode of spatial production as Levent. Neither architecture as a business nor architecture as art has a solution for this.

2010

A truck collided with a security building’s roof at the Port of Catoosa. This guard shack is the project I’m most proud of because it’s the only one I could implement my vision from start to finish. I wanted the first building people engage with to represent the Port’s high-tech and nautical character.

2011

This project was an important professional lesson: It’s difficult to advocate for a design that goes beyond the style your client is used to. Without internal support, it‘s impossible. We won the proposal to renovate and expand six elementary schools in one of Tulsa’s upscale suburbs. At that time, the firm’s design director was responsible for designing every project. However, six schools being designed simultaneously was too much, so younger interns were brought in. The new designs would guide future projects, so matching the existing architecture was not necessary or desired.

I approached the projects as I would in design studio, but some offices are not like design studio. Early concepts would have been more appropriate to the site, more appropriate to our time, and better represent the community. They were not what the client was used to seeing.

Reflecting on this project now, I’m not as concerned that architecture-as-business prevailed over architecture-as-art. I mostly remember how the design process was led by administrators with teachers having very little input and students having none.

2018

A condo community near Kansas City’s Country Club Plaza had an ugly entry canopy that clashed with their mid-century modern mid-rise. The good news is delivery trucks were always running into it, so they needed another one. Trudy Faulkner and I came up with one that pleased the board, and complemented the building’s aesthetic.

The final design is a collaboration between Norton and Schmidt Consulting Engineers, Person Kent McKinley Raaf electrical engineers, Strata, and the residents of Wornall Plaza

LIFE everything is space

I was blessed with the opportunity to visit Cappadocia in Spring of 2018. I’ve wanted to go from the time I first learned it existed almost 20 years ago. As an architect, I needed to see it. It’s the embodiment of what architecture should be: Life, landscape, time, and architecture all aligning. The people who carved their homes from living stone appropriated the landscape and were concealed and protected by it. They survived persecution from the Romans and Ottomans and were sustained over generations. Years later we can see how they lived and what they valued. The image is so powerful that people of Göreme, Uçhisar, Ürgüp, and Ortahisar are still carving their buildings out of the “Fairy Chimney’s.”

Cappadocia told me more about Turks than any other place I visited in Turkey. They’re a people who can grow where they’re planted; be shaped by their new landscape while shaping it. They have a strong, almost monolithic Turkish culture, but it’s adaptable to its landscape. It also told me about myself; that Cappadocia has always been a part of me. One of my most intuitive acts is drawing, and my most intuitive drawings have always been architectural forms that grow from, and are shaped by, their natural forces. Not a contrived aesthetic, but an actual confluence of built environment and natural creation. They either emerge from the landscape or express decay and adaptation. Imprecision, uncertainty, the ethereal, the spiritual, qualitative, and the impulsive have always been my allies while the narratives of elites, positivism, control, and the finite have been my nemeses. This explains my fascination with informal settlements. Their producers make infinite decisions in time and space, compelled by natural and cultural forces, to make homes, neighborhoods, and cities that serve their needs. At the same time, they’re adaptable in real time to serve future needs.

Everything is spatial, and “the present epoch” is an “epoch of space,… simultaneity… juxtaposition… near and far… side-by-side… and the dispersed” (Foucault, 1986, p.22). Think about the questions of culture and politics: how we are to behave within a bound space (borders), what are the laws within that space, who can be present in that space, who is served by that space, what space do we put deviants in? You could say “the anxiety of our era has to do fundamentally with space” (p.23). The struggle to overcome the anxieties of our era is a struggle to produce space. Whoever has the power to produce space will have the power to answer the questions of our time. Will it be a movement of the people, or the hegemony? Architects are locked into a paradigm that necessarily supports the hegemony. How can architects overcome our paradigm toward an architecture that’s congruent with culture and environment? toward an architecture that empowers people instead of the powerful? yet is beautiful and experientially significant? I think we can find the answer to these questions in the informality of both Cappadocia and squatter slums.

Architects maintain our distance from the public through specialized and often esoteric graphic techniques. Architectural renderings, paraline drawings, sketches, and animations are powerful tools that allow us to convey meaning and intention to the public even if they don’t fully understand them. Our compelling images, coupled with technical expertise and legal codification makes it difficult for the public to gainsay our designs. I was never critical of this phenomenon and still don’t know how to conceptualize it. On the one hand, architects can help the public participate in the design process by helping them visualize the spaces they’re producing. On the other hand, drawing a space is a huge step toward producing it. If this tool is maintained by architects, much of the production of space is in our hands. REPRESENTATION hands and eyes

Computer rendering is a great equalizer in architectural representation. However, hand rendering techniques are still important for the design process and communications. I have worked to develop, improve, and maintain skills in both digital proficiency and free hand rendering and sketching.

The following are examples of some of my digital and free hand work.

Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, graphite, February 2020

And though the hippo is more potamus than me

I picked up a snake I thought was a bee

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