#ZahaHadid #mercerHotel 2004
I sat one afternoon amidst a room of giants. I was not frightened. It was like something that Thomas De Quincey (Confessions of an English Opium Eater) would experience the morning after an “episode”. Dwarfed by unique personalities, I imagined I needed a machete to cut through the axons that ruled my impulses. Life sometimes seemed in flux, but I was in control.
The flock wondered why I was among them. It was an odd moment for me, perplexing for them. My stature in the community was nowhere near theirs. But there was a whisper on the wind that lured me to safety.
Yale University is/was a tremendous institution, at the apex of American education. I was an invited guest to sit in on a series of architecture graduate school reviews. My host/friend, Greg Lynn always thought that a visual perspective, a photographer’s perspective could warrant a valuable suggestion and advice to the built environment. It is a necessity to consider architecture not only for its design and practical applications, but how the world might see it as well. It is a way to communicate with the populace and the future/past. I could not disagree.
I made the journey to New Haven for about 6 years. I was always excited to greet faces from my past, and a creative core: Frank Gehry, Robert Stern, Peter Eisenman, Zaha Hadid, Wolf Prix, Richard Meier, Greg Lynn, Charles Holland, an amazing gathering of fabulous minds.
The reviews allowed me to encounter the new age of architecture that the graduate students would present. There is something of a primitive fire that arrives under the ass that says, “get a move on little doggie, youth is marching your way.” I constantly felt that I needed to arm myself with the experiences from my past to share with the present future. It was a wonderful stimuli.
So there I sat among Pritzker Prize winners and exceptional architects from across the globe. I looked around at the seated gathering. One in particular who dueled with me from the past was the reigning queen of architecture, Zaha Hadid. Zaha was certainly one of the great creative architecture giants. In a way she was the 21st century’s Oscar Niemeyer.
Herbert Muschamp, former editor of the New York Times once claimed Zaha Hadid one of the best architects of the second half of the 20th century. Zaha was tougher than almost everyone on the playing field. She had all the weapons: Talent, style, vision and hutzpah.
Our earlier encounter was bloody. Every word was a match lit, a reason to spar. “En garde” seemed to precede every exchange. The new meeting at Yale presented a different and surprisingly tender hearted genius. I was caught off guard. She was brilliant. She measured my heart and shared her mind. I knew life seemed surreal from time to time, but this was a trip to the moon.
As we spent the afternoon critiquing the work of a new army of architects. I caught myself looking down at Zaha’s shoes. I remarked how amazing they were. Zaha wore these ultra chic shoes specially designed for her by a world famous house. She gave me a bit of history about the stylish footwear as we admired the students efforts.
Architects are sometimes measured by the shoes they wear. Shoes are oddly a status symbol. The realm of design inhabits many idiosyncrasies. I never asked anyone about this. But the feet had to wear not just Prada, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermès, or? But absolutely unique to the fashion brand, unless one of the architects was tickling ninety and corrective shoes for seniors were more comfortable.
Simple elegance :: Cincinnati Contemporary Museum of Art
Zaha was a genius. This particular afternoon she seemed to want to treat my ear as a companion. She constantly leaned over and gestured to some student’s work, or conveyed something about one of her colleagues.
The review was coming to an end. Zaha leaned towards me and said I want to tell you something. But you must promise not to share this with anyone! She whispered into my ear! “Now promise, this is between us”.
All of the attendees got up to leave for the day. As Zaha got to the door, she looked back and mouthed, you promised! And then she was gone.
I never saw her again after that day. But the whisper emboldened me...