Pfau advances front line
in 'reviving' modernism
Critics of southeastern Michigan's architectural scene, as most recently quoted by the New York Times, may find the city "too culturally leaden to welcome new design." Apparently the School of Architecture at the University of Detroit disagrees. Its 2003 series of architectural lectures continued March 13 with a presentation by Peter Pfau, a practitioner of what's becoming labeled "high technology modernism," and he still finds inspiration in and
around the Motor City.
The series is sponsored by the Great Lakes Fabricators & Erectors Association and, so far during this year has included lectures by renowned architects Jae Cha of Light Inc., Washington, D.C., and Teddy Cruz of estudio, San Diego, Calif. It continues on March 19 with Michelle Fornabi of ambo.infra design, Boston, Mass., and concludes the Spring 2003 series on April 2 with Thom Faulders of Beige Design, Berkeley, Calif.
Based in San Francisco, Calif., Pfau established his own practice in 1991. His ongoing activities include that of an adjunct professorship at the California College of Arts & Crafts, work as a founder of the Art & Architecture Exhibition Space (2AES), and as a frequent participant in design competition.
Pfau's first exposure to the profession of architecture transpired during a brief sojourn in the construction trades in San Francisco. Trained as an artist during his youth, he eventually received a B.A. in architecture from the University of California at Berkeley. After several years of work in the field, he moved to New York, N.Y., and earned a masters in architecture from Columbia University in 1984. Remaining in that city for the next two years, he won competitions and prepared exhibitions while working for the Design Collaborative and Architectural Studio.
Returning to the Bay area in 1986, Pfau became a partner in the then newly formed firm of Holt Hinshaw Pfau Jones. During its six years of existence the firm won numerous architectural awards.
Pfau began his lecture with a brief homage to Elliel Saarinen, famed resident architect of the Cranbrook Educational Community in Bloomfield Hills from 1925 to 1950. Yet, in doing so, he stressed that the old paradigm of the architect as a "master builder" is declining in relevance in today's world, if indeed it had any to begin with.
"Today, architectural practice has become so complicated that collaboration is necessary to make it work," he declared. "We must collaborate with all of the different people impacted by our work, the public, community leaders, not to mention the clients."
Yet people, especially clients, are in an ever accelerating hurry. Perhaps the insane pace of life eliminates the sublime and contemplative, forcing people instead to grasp for superficial, cheap thrills as inadequate substitutes. Whatever the reason, Pfau points to a still deepening rush by society toward an unrealistically quick adoption of "trendy" designs. What's new battles for the public's attention for 15 minutes of fame, then just as quickly is dropped for the another in a rapid fire succession of trends - some of which have been not very imaginatively recycled.
This behavior may be tolerable for clothing, music, cuisine, or even furnishings, but it usually fails when applied to items intended for long term use, such as buildings. Due to the very nature of their finished products, architects have to design wisely. While working to meet their client's needs, they must come up with designs that not only advance architectural practice but have staying power.
"Architecture and fashion do not mix," Pfau stated, flatly. "The reason why they don't mix is that you can't change the clothes of a building every season, to meet changing architectural needs."
Instead, he argues for a reasoned approach to innovative design - an approach Pfau bases in designs that have been proven to work. Building on their success, he transforms and advances them through an infusion of intelligent and careful experimentation. Great artists have always advanced their art in this manner, even when rebelling against established traditions.
Architects need to understand the parameters that drive a building, Pfau says. They must have a firm grounding in the history and traditions of the craft and fully understand its evolution to today's state of practice. Modernism as a style of architecture first caught Pfau's attention because it seemed to be based on the idea that technological advancement offered the potential to transform the world. Today modernism has evolved to a much less robotic and far more humanistic approach - that of grasping, adapting, and utilizing technology not so much to "save the world" but to improve life through service to humanity.
To advance in this manner, Pfau's practice has focused on a willingness to study and, if necessary, even fail if the lesson learned from such failure provides insight toward the final design solution. As architecture affects human emotional response, his designs experiment with tactile sensations in the use of building materials, colors, and light. He is also interested in the emotional qualities of space and how it affects the mind. Stripped to its essential, Pfau says he is on "a search for the genuine" in architecture, a condition that creates "the right place, that feels right" to the people interacting within a built environment.
With his emphasis on how buildings can't change their clothes, ironically Pfau has designed modernistic structures that, in a practical sense, can actually pull this trick off. The first of several projects he discussed during the lecture was his design for the Swatch pavilion for the 26th Olympic Games, held in 1996 in Atlanta, Ga. His firm was charged with the challenge of designing a temporary building full of interactive exhibits. The client wanted the project rapidly created, giving Pfau a mere eight months to design and complete a remarkably unique enclosure.
His solution was a two level structure built on light aluminum framing with extended polystyrene curtainwalls. The transparent skin was designed to allow for the projective of historic Olympic photographs as well as photographs taken daily of the various athletic events. Some exhibits - such as a conveyor system exhibiting all of the 1,800 styles of Swatch watches that had been designed during the company's history - were built into the wall system. During the evening, different colors of light could be projected on the exterior walls, dramatically altering the building's appearance.
During the Olympics an average of 10,000 people cycled through the pavilion daily.
Because the Swatch pavilion was temporary, components within in such as its staircases, elevators, and HVAC equipment, were rented and returned after the building was disassembled. The building's components were later recycled, incorporated into a modular design Pfau created for a reusable exhibit pavilion system. "The system breaks down into boxes that can be shipped anywhere," he explained.
Other Pfau projects showcased during the lecture covered a wide range of purposes. He designed a floating pavilion in Australia for a surf generation machine operated by Swatch in Sydney Harbor. In San Francisco he renovated and adapted the former Green Glen Dairy into an upscale office complex. A recently completed Pfau design is the 30,000 sq. ft. expansion of the Lick-Wilmerding High School, a non-profit college preparatory school. Among its many innovative features is a student lounge that draws its electricity from a bank of windmills. "It's a very green project," Pfau said, located in the middle of the high school's campus on a somewhat neglected field nicknamed "no man's land." His company won the assignment in a design competition by locating the expansion below ground, with such environmentally friendly features as a roofing system covered with sod, and open areas that allow students to perform work out of doors.
The institutionally originally was a trade school that transformed itself by bringing in more academic disciplines. "Their mission now is that of educating the head, the heart, and the hands," he said.
In all of his work Pfau's intent is the achievement of designs that meet both his client's current and future needs - even needs the client may not initially understand or at first appreciate. Financial cost is always a consideration but good architecture doesn't have to be expensive. Neither is the cost of socially responsible architecture if it is made an initial goal.
"It's easy to forget that we are service professionals and we have clients," he declared. It's imperative for architects to know and understand their clients, and for the reverse to be true. "There has to be a close fit between your buildings and their needs," he said. "Often, especially in the beginning of your practice, you'll have to spend time educating your clients as you identify what they want and need, so they can see the benefits. To make good architecture, you have to sell good architecture."
Most of Pfau's clients come to him today because they already know of his work and appreciate it. "But," he adds, "if I'm approached by a client who appears only interested in price, to the extent that I can't practice what I feel is good architecture, I do my best to refer him to other architects who are better equipped to meet his needs."
There has to be a meeting of minds between architects and their clients.
"It's about honesty," Pfau says. "Clients need to understand why things are as they are. So you must be very clear about what you do, and you must communicate it clearly. You show them buildings. You explain. We, as architects, must share our thinking with our clients, so they can become part of process, contributing to all of the possibilities."
