The Smith House by Richard Meier turned 50 years old last year. In celebration of that, photographer Mike Schwartz took these photographs. And just recently they were published in Surface Magazine along with an interview of both Meier and Chuck Smith. Smith’s mother commissioned the house (completed in 1967) and he was 8 years old when the family moved in.
My favorite comment in the article is this one by Smith:
“Don’t throw balls in the house, and don’t touch the walls.” I must have heard “don’t touch the walls” three or four times a day. That said, there’s a crack in one of the windows where I shot it with a BB gun. We got away with some things.
Modern architecture was supposed to be a perfectly engineered machine for living. But I guess living didn’t include touching the walls or shooting BB guns in the house.
My favorite photos – both from Mike Schwartz – are these two:


They feel like inversions of each other. The first one (day shot) is all about the views outward. Meier also talks about how the white on white helps to enhance this experience. The second one (night shot) turns the house inward on itself. Smith talks about how at night the view disappears and all you’re left with is your own reflection.
I also like how the paint is flaking on the fireplace, which by the way, is perfectly on axis with the home’s entry. It makes you work a little bit for the view. Apparently keeping the paint on was a problem since day one. But it gives the house – which is otherwise seemingly perfect – a bit of a patina.
However, I’m guessing that Meier would prefer the paint stay on.
Surface Magazine – and more specifically the CEO of Surface Magazine – recently published this article criticizing the “trend” toward designing for Instagrammable moments.
Here is an excerpt:
We—and yes, this includes architects, too—have succumbed to the pressures of gaining followers, likes, and comments. High-priced, difficult-to-attain architecture degrees are now, incomprehensibly, being used to create “Instagrammable” installations for things like impromptu selfie fashion shoots and hotel lobby photo booths. The whole thing is, I must say, sad. It’s embarrassing enough that our team at Surface has received press releases from architects promoting their latest project with “Instagram-friendly interiors.” They can’t be serious.
And here are his final words:
If retail is dead, then its rebirth will depend on creating memorable atmospheres that don’t call for #✌💙👯🙋📷.
I certainly appreciate the push for lasting and memorable spaces, but, at the same time, I can’t say I’m nearly as fussed about lobby selfies and the alleged timelessness of Instagram.
In fact, I think it would be an interesting exercise to study how social media may be impacting the way we design physical spaces.
Maybe it is simply a fad being promulgated by “knucklehead junior marketers” or maybe 100 years from now nerdy architectural historians will look back on that quaint period of time when we designed spaces to service rudimentary 2D images shared amongst friends.
Whatever the case may be, I think that architecture, like all art, should embody the milieu in which it was designed.
But often we have biases telling us that what is new is not as good as what’s existing and already accepted.
Since I’ve talked a lot before about the profession of architecture and the future of it, I thought I would share this recent interview with Mark Wigley from Surface Magazine (May 2014). Since 2004, Wigley was the Dean of Columbia University’s Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation. But he’s now stepping down and this was his exit interview.
The first question he was asked was:
What are the most compelling reasons for someone to become an architect now?
I actually think that there’s never a compelling reason to be an architect. The decision is irrational, and that irrationality is an enormous and precious asset. Architecture is full of romantics who think that even relatively small changes to the built environment create the aspiration for a better society. It sounds hokey, but there is in every architect the thought that things could be better. This is a kind of professional optimism. And that leads to an expertise in entering situations in which the dynamics are unclear. Architects are only ever called into a situation when it’s impossible. If it’s possible, you invite somebody with a toolbox who can give answers. You call the architect in when it’s not clear what the question even is.
The line I really like is the one I highlighted in bold above: “…there is in every architect the thought that things could be better.”
Wigley is talking about it in a kind of romantic and idealistic way, but I don’t think it necessarily needs to be that way. The optimistic belief that things could be better, that things could be improved, is a powerful notion. In my view, it’s what drives entrepreneurship and that happens to be our most powerful economic engine.
I actually think there are a number of parallels between architecture and entrepreneurship. In school, architects are indeed taught to enter into situations where “the dynamics are unclear.” It’s about taking an idea, developing it, and trying to figure out what it could become.
Then, once you’ve poured your heart and soul into that idea, you get up in front of everyone and you pitch it. It’s your job to convince everyone that, yes, the way you’ve developed your idea is in fact the right way. Sometimes you get shot down. And other times you don’t. But you just have to take the risk.
Click here to download the full PDF of Mark Wigley’s interview.
The Smith House by Richard Meier turned 50 years old last year. In celebration of that, photographer Mike Schwartz took these photographs. And just recently they were published in Surface Magazine along with an interview of both Meier and Chuck Smith. Smith’s mother commissioned the house (completed in 1967) and he was 8 years old when the family moved in.
My favorite comment in the article is this one by Smith:
“Don’t throw balls in the house, and don’t touch the walls.” I must have heard “don’t touch the walls” three or four times a day. That said, there’s a crack in one of the windows where I shot it with a BB gun. We got away with some things.
Modern architecture was supposed to be a perfectly engineered machine for living. But I guess living didn’t include touching the walls or shooting BB guns in the house.
My favorite photos – both from Mike Schwartz – are these two:


They feel like inversions of each other. The first one (day shot) is all about the views outward. Meier also talks about how the white on white helps to enhance this experience. The second one (night shot) turns the house inward on itself. Smith talks about how at night the view disappears and all you’re left with is your own reflection.
I also like how the paint is flaking on the fireplace, which by the way, is perfectly on axis with the home’s entry. It makes you work a little bit for the view. Apparently keeping the paint on was a problem since day one. But it gives the house – which is otherwise seemingly perfect – a bit of a patina.
However, I’m guessing that Meier would prefer the paint stay on.
Surface Magazine – and more specifically the CEO of Surface Magazine – recently published this article criticizing the “trend” toward designing for Instagrammable moments.
Here is an excerpt:
We—and yes, this includes architects, too—have succumbed to the pressures of gaining followers, likes, and comments. High-priced, difficult-to-attain architecture degrees are now, incomprehensibly, being used to create “Instagrammable” installations for things like impromptu selfie fashion shoots and hotel lobby photo booths. The whole thing is, I must say, sad. It’s embarrassing enough that our team at Surface has received press releases from architects promoting their latest project with “Instagram-friendly interiors.” They can’t be serious.
And here are his final words:
If retail is dead, then its rebirth will depend on creating memorable atmospheres that don’t call for #✌💙👯🙋📷.
I certainly appreciate the push for lasting and memorable spaces, but, at the same time, I can’t say I’m nearly as fussed about lobby selfies and the alleged timelessness of Instagram.
In fact, I think it would be an interesting exercise to study how social media may be impacting the way we design physical spaces.
Maybe it is simply a fad being promulgated by “knucklehead junior marketers” or maybe 100 years from now nerdy architectural historians will look back on that quaint period of time when we designed spaces to service rudimentary 2D images shared amongst friends.
Whatever the case may be, I think that architecture, like all art, should embody the milieu in which it was designed.
But often we have biases telling us that what is new is not as good as what’s existing and already accepted.
Since I’ve talked a lot before about the profession of architecture and the future of it, I thought I would share this recent interview with Mark Wigley from Surface Magazine (May 2014). Since 2004, Wigley was the Dean of Columbia University’s Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation. But he’s now stepping down and this was his exit interview.
The first question he was asked was:
What are the most compelling reasons for someone to become an architect now?
I actually think that there’s never a compelling reason to be an architect. The decision is irrational, and that irrationality is an enormous and precious asset. Architecture is full of romantics who think that even relatively small changes to the built environment create the aspiration for a better society. It sounds hokey, but there is in every architect the thought that things could be better. This is a kind of professional optimism. And that leads to an expertise in entering situations in which the dynamics are unclear. Architects are only ever called into a situation when it’s impossible. If it’s possible, you invite somebody with a toolbox who can give answers. You call the architect in when it’s not clear what the question even is.
The line I really like is the one I highlighted in bold above: “…there is in every architect the thought that things could be better.”
Wigley is talking about it in a kind of romantic and idealistic way, but I don’t think it necessarily needs to be that way. The optimistic belief that things could be better, that things could be improved, is a powerful notion. In my view, it’s what drives entrepreneurship and that happens to be our most powerful economic engine.
I actually think there are a number of parallels between architecture and entrepreneurship. In school, architects are indeed taught to enter into situations where “the dynamics are unclear.” It’s about taking an idea, developing it, and trying to figure out what it could become.
Then, once you’ve poured your heart and soul into that idea, you get up in front of everyone and you pitch it. It’s your job to convince everyone that, yes, the way you’ve developed your idea is in fact the right way. Sometimes you get shot down. And other times you don’t. But you just have to take the risk.
Click here to download the full PDF of Mark Wigley’s interview.
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