Travelers Story (Missing)

I once wrote an illustrated story about a group of travelers. These are the illustrations, in order; you can imagine the narrative.

في حب اليابسة

البحر

يَغرق فيه الثقيل ويَضيع فيه الوحيد، لا ثبات لمادَّته ولا وضوح لقاعه، لونه انعكاس للسماء وشكله يحدده الهواء، يسحب إطاره القمر وتزيد حجمه الشمس، إذا هاج دخل اليابسة ودمَّر، يُخبئ الطعام والجواهر في بطنه فيستغل جوع الفقراء وجشع الأثرياء، يعطيهم ما أرادوا مرة ويُخيِّب أملهم مرة ويسلب حياتهم مرة، ثم يعودون، هو السكون والجمال إذا أراد استدراج البشر وهو العملاق الكاسح إذا ملَّ تطفُّلهم، لا يأمنه إلا نادم ولا يعبره إلا محظوظ، من وصل وسطه لم يرى إلا الأمواج الراقصة ومن غاص في مائه إستغرب عدد سكانه وإتساع أبعاده، تقسمه طبقات وتربطه ممرات فلا يُعرف إن كان واحدٌ أم أكثر أو إن كانت بدايته نهاية أم نهايته بداية، يا صديقي إن وقفت أمامه تفَكَّر وإن قرَّرت دخوله إحذر، فالبحر غير اليابسة.

الهواء

لونه مستور وفعله مفضوح، يغلبه الرمل حيناً و يغلب الجبال أحياناً، لا وزن له إذا هدأ ولا صوت له إذا ركد، هو امتلاء الفراغ والموجود إذا غاب الموجود، يحمل السحاب والطيور وآلات الإنسان ولكن لا يطول الوقت حتى تلاشت السحب ونزلت الطيور وتعبت آلات الإنسان، لا دوام للسابح في فضائه ولا استمرار للمحلق في أجوائه، كل طالع فيه نازل وكل نازل منه مُرغم، إذا غضب رَعَد وإذا ثار بَرَق، يهيج فيقتلع ما في الأرض من أشجار وبيوت ويرميها في السماء أو هو يجذب ما في السماء من طيور و آلات للإنسان ليسحبها إلى الأرض، يبعثر ما قد كان مرتب فتختلط الأشياء وتنحرف المسارات وتتغير الخطط، يتغلغل إلى أصغر المساحات فلا تعيقه الحوائط ويحتل أكبر الساحات فلا ترده الجيوش، يا صديقي إن وقفت أمامه تفَكَّر وإن قرَّرت صعوده إحذر، فالهواء غير اليابسة. 

اليابسة

هي محل اسقرار الأقدام والأقدار، ثابتة بين المتحركات ومتوازنة بين المتقلبات، يجري عليها الزمن ويتخطاها و هي مجودة مكانها لا تتغير، ليس لها زمن بل الزمن له يابسة يقف عليها ليحدد طريقه، هي هي منذ الأزل، تحمل الماء والسماء وكل ما وُضع عليها دون تعب، منها وعليها تبنى البيوت صداً لطغيان البحر وما تقذفه السماء، من نام عليها وجد نفسه مركز للكون السابح بأفلاكه ومجراته، يستيقظ مطمئناً بأنه على الأرض التي نام عليها ذاتها بينما تغير البحر من جنبه وتبدل الهواء من فوقه، هي الوطن دوماً و الراحل عنها مسافر، تاريخها مكتوب في صخرها وحاضرها واضح على سطحها ومستقبلها إعادة للتاريخ، النظر إليها سعادة والسجود عليها عبادة، يا صديقي إن أردت راحة في حياتك ومستقَراً لمماتك لا تسكن غير اليابسة.

I Am an Architect, and This Is My Bio

Like many people, I'm sure, I hate writing Bio paragraphs. In this instance, I decided to have some fun with it. Instead of a paragraph, I wrote a poem about what I am interested in studying as a PhD student at PennDesign. Here is the bio page. Enjoy:

I sat to write my bio when
I realized what I missed again
That writing in the ‘normal’ way
Would not include a true display
Of that on which I wish to muse
And that to show my latent views
I had to right the way I write
On architecture: unforthright

Don’t all buildings flaunt their shapes
And no two parks are clone landscapes?
So why should we be, when we voice
Thoughts on these matters, lacking voice?
Do we think that who is best, is
Idiosyncratically repressed?
Repeating what was prior said
Under that copied letterhead

What I suggest? We break the norm
In genre, format, and in form:
Novels, poems, plays, and songs
Readings, dances, and sing-alongs
Scrapbooks, films, and fairy tales
Memoirs, comics, and strange details
To try new mediums and critiques
And leave behind that archi-speak

Imagine theory writ in rhyme
A metered look at space and time
Imagine choreographing code
A setback samba from the road
You might be thinking, what’s the point?
Are there not things of more import?
No, and know, this ain’t distraction
Different speech is different action!

الصوابر... ليتَ الحياة تعود فيكِ

تَصيح تِلكَ المنفية، 

الآتية من بَعيد: 

الصوابر... ليتَ الحياة تعود فيكِ، 

و لكني أخشى أنْ لا مكان لمثلكِ بيننا، 

أكُنتِ كما ظننا أم لم تكوني 

في آخر كل أحلامنا الدمار، 

و في أولها أيضاً، 

الصوابر... 

كيف تريدين العيش بيننا 

و كل ما فيكِ يناقضنا؟ 

فأنتِ... 

قديمة و نحن لا نريد أن نتذكر الماضي 

و جديدة و نحن لا يخجلنا أكثر من حاضرنا 

و أنتِ... 

قبيحة و نحن نحب بريق الألوكوبوند و ملاسته 

و رومانسية الجمال و نحن لا نستسيغ شِعرَ الخرسانة 

و أنتِ... 

كبيرة شاسعة المساحة و نحن نسعى للإقتصاد في كل شيء 

و صغيرة ناقصة و نحن لن نُضحي برفاهية أحلامنا 

و أنتِ... 

رخيصة القيمة و نحن نرى القيمة فيما فَحُشَ من الغنى 

و عالية الكلفة و نحن عاجزون عن تكاليف هُويَّتنا 

الصوابر... 

لماذا تريدين العيش بيننا؟ 

ألم نفشل في كل واجباتنا تجاهكِ؟ 

ثيابكِ لم تُغسل، 

داركِ لم تُرتَّب، 

جروحكِ لم تُطبب، 

كسوركِ لم تُجبر، 

ألم نهجركِ وقت المحنة؟ 

ألم نحرقكِ وقت الغفلة؟ 

الصوابر... 

لماذا تريدين العيش بيننا؟ 

الحياة هنا لا تطاق لمثلكِ، 

عودي كما كنتِ 

أحجارٌ و ترابٌ و غبار، 

عودي إلى الصحراء 

و نامي تحت رمالها، 

فالصَّمتُ أرحم من هجاء الأحبة. 

أو... 

إن كنتِ مصرَّة على البقاء، 

كوني مستعدة للتيه طويلاً في شوارع المدينة، 

شوارعٌ متشابكة 

لا يدلها إلا الجاهل بالاتجاهات، 

شوارعٌ كلها تؤدي إلى الإحباط، 

و لكن أيقني أن في مدينتنا 

الإحباط و النجاح رفيقان، 

كوني مستعدة لأبواق السيارات 

و تقاسيمها المترنحة بين الشماتة و الغضب، 

كوني مستعدة لمن سيطوفون حولكِ 

و نظراتهم الغارقة في الشهوة و الطمع، 

كوني مستعدة لخططِ المغفَّلين، 

خططٌ يحتاج تفسيرها إلى خطة، 

خططٌ يحتاج تطبيقها إلى خطة، 

خططٌ أشبهُ بالهذيان. 

أخيراً... 

عَزِّي نفسك بأحلام الحجر 

و اسحتضري تفاؤل الفكرة الأولى، 

تذكري ذلك البنَّاء العجوز 

مات، و أكمل عمله أبناءه 

و إذا سُئِلتي 

لماذا تريدين العيش بيننا؟ 

قولي... إن تركتُ أرضي، ما عُدْت أنا، 

و أنتم، إن تركتكم، ما عُدْتم أنتم، 

أنا لا أعيش بينكم، 

أنتم من يعيش حولي. 

الصوابر... 

ليتَ الحياة تعود فيكِ، 

و فينا.

Against Articulation: A Scientific Alternative

This is my review of the title of the upcoming conference, Black Box: Articulating Architecture's Core in the Post-Digital Era. The conference did not take place yet, so I don't know what its content will be. My concern is the title:

Some biases and assumptions are apparent in the title of this conference, Black Box: Articulating Architecture’s Core in the Post-Digital Era. The title, in itself, is a project that can be critiqued. I believe that carefully considering the implications of every single word in the title will reveal the availability of more appropriate alternatives. Finally, I will synthesize my findings in a scientific alternative title.

Black

Architecture is not a “secret profession”, as Reyner Banham described it. Architectural projects stand in the open for everyone to see. Unlike art, that often hides in museums, architecture stands on public streets. In fact, architects are known to expose structural and mechanical elements of their buildings in order to be more honest and forthcoming. Not even the meaning of architecture is a mystery. Look towards the skyline of any major city. Who owns and occupies the tallest, shiniest, and most expensive towers? Those buildings are shouting their meanings to anyone who takes a second to listen.

Don’t look to understand architecture in a dark alley. Nothing will reveal itself from the blackness. With architecture, all you need to know is out in the ’open’.

Box

Architecture is not a box, nor is it inside a box. Boxes have finite dimensions. Without opening a box, you can know exactly how much space / stuff it holds. Weighing a box will easily reveal the amount of matter it is comprised of. Boxes can be numbered, stacked, lined, organized, stored, and shipped. They are static and boring, while architecture is neither.

Architecture is similar to a ‘field’. Whether that is a field of study, a field to cross, or a field for play can be determined with each time we utter the word ‘architecture’. It extends over the terrain, undulating with the landscape, and overlapping other fields. The boundaries of a field are often messy and organic. They seep and bleed. Changing those boundaries is more a mental chore than a physical one. It takes an internal moment of imagination, and an external process of negotiation.

Articulating

‘Articulating’ means defining hard boundaries. Stressful decisions have to be made. What is inside the boundary and what is outside? Disagreements will arise. “You are outside the boundary” someone will say. “No, you are outside the boundary” another will replay. “You are both outside the boundary” a third will interject. Articulation is exclusive.

Yet, in times of stability, articulation can be done with minimal violence, and even produce some positive effects. Here, articulation is used for the practical purposes of organization. “This is your job, and this is my job”. It is not an ideological issue, but a prosaic one. To determine if this is presently appropriate, though, we should ask ourselves: are we living in times of stability? The answer is a resounding “No”. Major social, political, and technological changes have become the norm. In times of instability, such as ours, articulation is counterproductive. If we articulate architecture today, then any development that takes over the world (e.g. a revolutionary technological invention) will have to be separated from architecture. It will not be allowed to exert any influence on our field, nor will we be able to take advantage of what it offers. Once articulated, architecture becomes outdated. The only way to avoid this situation would be to immediately disown our previous act of articulation, and rearticulate architecture according to what has recently developed. In times of fast change and instability, this process will be repetitive and exhausting, a waste of time and energy.

Instead of articulating, I propose we start ‘accumulating’. We should explore other fields and pick all that is useful, bringing back as much as we can carry. Only the deluded believe that they know what the future will bring the field of architecture. The existential challenges that we will have to face are both imminent and unknown. A fence will be useless. A stockpile might help.

Architecture

Has there been a more unproductively posed question as: What is architecture? There have been innumerable answers: certain structures, a method of design, a mode of thought, a profession… etc. Although sometimes enlightening and inspiring, attempts to define architecture cannot be more than partially relevant at any given moment. Because architecture is similar to a field and not a box, it has different significances for different peoples, places, and times. Certain structures, a method of design, a mode of thought, and a profession are all architecture, and even more than that.

I suggest we shift our attention from architecture to the ‘architectural’. Let us not ask whether a structure is architecture or building. Instead, let us ask: what is architectural about it and what is not. The ‘architectural’ allows us to see the world in its complexities and contradictions. Out the window goes absolutism. The world is seen through its wholes and parts, through its distinctions and relationships, through its concentrations and gradients. The ‘architectural’ is always only part of the story, incomplete, and ephemeral. To last, it would have to be periodically reaffirmed by its constituents in an ongoing collective process.

Core

To assign a core is also to assign a periphery. A hierarchy of importance is established. The core is the main thing, and the periphery is its shadow. Predictable flow patterns are bound to emerge. Those in the periphery move towards the core, creating congestion. In the other direction flows media: information, ideologies, and instructions.

In the open field of architecture, there is no core. Instead, ‘narratives’ are woven into kites and flown over the field, their strings passing from hand to hand. Narratives can even come from other fields, fly high and low, get tangled with others, and then move on. The wind, the land, and the guiding hand, things that are in themselves not intrinsic to the field, determine to a large degree the kind of stories the kites will tell. This is how narratives are. They can rise from anywhere. Their paths are determined by their shapes, but also by their surroundings. They are consolidated but not isolated.

In

To be ‘in’ is a position of subordination. The smaller is in the larger. The part is in the whole. To say that something is ‘in’ would not suggest that it has any external influence or internal preference. It is a passive posture. A rock can sit in a field of battle, unmoving, uninterested, and unaware. Solders’ feet rush past it in vengeful assault or frantic retreat. The rock is in the middle of it all, but it takes no part. It does not even know that it is a rock until a solder picks it up and throws it with all her might.

Let us be ‘for’ instead of ‘in’. To be ‘for’ establishes two properties: a current position and an intended trajectory. This makes the act of being ‘for’ a critical one. It is in fact the most basic of critical acts. Architecture is an instrumental field. It is a field of action and happening. But nothing happens without first starting from a ‘for’ position. The architectural act is the three-dimensional line that is produced when the course of the intended trajectory is traced over the uneven terrain of the architectural field.

The

The English language’s only definite article, ‘the’, is used when referring to that which is specific, known, and at hand. For example, Le Corbusier could correctly point and say, “This is the city of tomorrow”. Today, the architectural field cannot seem to pull together enough conviction to justify the use of the definite article. Instead, we should contend ourselves with the indefinite, ‘a’ or ‘an’. For example, practices such as OMA or SANAA build dozens of models showing different options for a project. From these imperfect models, ‘an’ option is selected and executed. No one pretends that what is selected is the best or only possibility for the project, but a choice has to be made, and so it is.

Post-Digital

Defining our present moment in the architectural field by the most recent developments in digital tools would not have been considered had there been a dominant intellectual position that the majority of contemporary architects supported. Since such a project does not currently exist, we have resorted to labeling ourselves post-digital, but we should always remember that that was a due to necessity and not choice. This is not to say that there are no intellectual positions currently in the field. There are many. Some architects have embraced their capital-creating position in the capitalist economy, some are determined to build more sustainably from an ethical standpoint, others are committed to help underserved communities (e.g. informal settlements and refugees), and yes, some have decided to exploit digital imaging and fabrication tools to serve architectural purposes, but it is unreasonable to consider their practices as defining of our present times.

I see the proliferation of intellectual positions, only some of which I have just mentioned, in addition to a pervasive skepticism in architecture’s ability to operate on the world with agency as being a dominant and widespread condition in our times. Multiplicity and doubt, this is what we have in common. Therefore, I would describe our present moment as being ‘agnostic’. An agnostic is not confident enough to take a position, yet is still interested in further investigation of the subject. In other words, the agnostic still cares. Isn’t this where we are today? We are caught between the evidence not supporting the ideals that we wished were true, yet we cannot escape the seductive allure of an idea such as utopia.

Era

Eras are established in hindsight. They are the bookmarks of historians. Those who live within a certain era cannot contest the label with which their times have been stamped; they are all long dead. Today, we do not live in an era. Rather, we simply live in the ‘present’, with all the possibilities of vigorous action and literally instantaneous change the word comes with.

The present, of course, is always crawling forwards. As long as none of us approaches the speed of light, time for all of us will have a constant speed: one second per second. We are all moving at that leisurely pace. All of us together, crawling forwards in a movement coordinated with the utmost congruency. No one is out of step. It is perfectly choreographed. That sense of absolute consensus in time is what we call the ‘present’. This unity is what makes agreement in all other things possible.

A Scientific Alternative

Based on the above, I am proposing an alternative title to the conference, Open Field: Accumulating Architectural Narratives for an Agnostic Present. Just like the original title of the conference, my title has its own biases and assumptions. It is a project that can and should be critiqued. Yet, since it is the result of a process of deliberation and analysis I, inspired by Aldo Rossi, call it scientific. A similar process conducted by other people will result in a different arrangement of words and meanings. That is both expected and encouraged.

Synergistic Competition

This is my entry to the ICONOCLAST Design Competition organized by the LA+ Journal. The competition asked for a redesign of Central Park. Following is the text and the two boards that were submitted: 

In their second public statement the eco-terrorist organization “the Gaians” wholly rejected the parameters of the ICONOCLAST design competition announced by PennDesign’s LA+ Journal, calling it “totally regressive” and “the result of the same unilateral thinking that brought about the ecological crisis humans have created.” The Times received this statement on May 4th, ten days after the ICONOCLAST competition was announced. The Gaians also attached two diagrams and a short explanation of what they are describing as a “Synergistic Competition fit for the 21st Century.” Threatening to take further action against public parks in New York City, the Gaians demanded that Mayor Bill Di Blastoff initiate the new competition immediately. Excerpts of the Gaians’ statement follow:

“In nine stages and over the span of more than three years, our Synergistic Competition will unfold right in front of the public’s eye. Designers will not sit in their exclusive havens of self-congratulatory delusions and impose their will on the world and destroy its nature. This arrogance must stop! All designs will be displayed in Central Park and subjected to public critique, starting with 512 contestants from all backgrounds and specializations. The contestants will explain their designs to the people, who will in turn fulfill their civic duty by voting for their favorite schemes. Public presentations and debates will continue throughout the process to ensure that this competition does not only produce a good design but an entire ecological paradigm shift.”

They continue:

“After each stage, once the people choose the winners, half the contestants will be eliminated. The other half, the winners, will be expected to evolve their designs according to the comments they received from the public, and also incorporate successful ideas presented by other contestants in a process of co-evolution. Frivolous expressions of personal style are unacceptable! As the competition advances, the number of contestants will decline, but the required amount of design details and specificity will increase for those remaining. We recommend that those eliminated join the remaining to produce larger teams capable of meeting the increasing demands of the competition. The plot sizes where the contestants show their designs to the public will also quadruple with each consecutive stage. In the ninth stage of the competition, only two contestants will remain, but their designs will be the result of an evolutionary process that took advantage of the 1,020 potential Central Parks that were not selected. Only this inclusive and collaborative competition process is fit for the 21st century. Down with insular designers!”

Before a House, and After It

SCENE ONE

Abeer and Salim are sitting in their living room, on the top floor of Salim’s parent’s house. They moved in six years ago when they got married. Now, with two children, and a plan to have two more, they are quickly outgrowing the limited space. As a gift, Salim’s father gave them a plot of land in the Abdulla AlSalem neighborhood. They spent the past few weeks looking for the right architect to design their house. Almost every night, before going to bed, they talk about their dream house. This night is not different.

Abeer: Did you talk to the architect you told me about yesterday?

Salim: Yes, I visited his office. We had a long meeting. At first, he didn’t want to take the project.

Abeer: Really, why?

Salim: A long story about how he was too busy with other projects, he didn’t have enough employees, our timeline is too short...etc. When everything else failed, I promised him that if he took the project, I would pay all his fees upfront.

Abeer: Wow, do you think that’s a good idea?

Salim: He is an amazing architect. I told you how many people recommended him. He also showed me some of his designs. They were beautiful, exactly like the classical villas we liked in Europe.

Abeer: Oh, that’s great. Ok, so what happens now?

Salim: I gave him our list of requirements, and I told him where the plot was so he can take a look. He said he will come up with some preliminary ideas and call us in a couple of weeks.

Abeer: This is really happening, isn’t it? We’re going to build our house! I’m so excited!

They were both excited. Abeer just showed it more. They had a strategic corner plot, in a nice neighborhood, and a great architect. What could go wrong?

SCENE TWO

Several weeks had passed since they hired the architect. A couple of meetings with him allowed Abeer and Salim to explain how they imagined their dream house. They realized that articulating exactly what they wanted was harder than they thought.

This is their third meeting with the architect, and the first where the architect had brought drawings of a preliminary design. In their small apartment on top of Salim’s parent’s house, Abeer and Salim sit next to each other on a couch. In front of them, sitting on another couch is the architect. Between the two couches is a coffee table with several rolls of drawings.

The architect unrolls his drawings and begins to speak:

Architect: Let’s imagine the future, fifteen years from now. Your beautiful daughter Sarah is getting married. There is no better place to have the engagement party than in her own home. The reception area in the ground floor is spacious and beautiful. It’s already impeccably decorated, so all you have to do is add a few flower bouquets in the corners.

Your guests arrive through the front door. They are dazzled by the elegant space. Colorful wallpaper. Classical furniture. Intricate wall moldings. You greet them, and take their hand to show them around your house. Through this large opening in the wall [he points to a perspective drawing done with water colors], framed by a white built-in cabinet with gold highlights, you walk to the next room in the reception area.

The decoration here is totally different, but equally beautiful. Everyone is smiling and happy. They can’t wait to see your daughter in her white dress. She is upstairs getting ready of course. The party helpers move back and forth from the reception area to the adjacent kitchen [he points at a floor plan], serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres arranged on silver trays with floral borders.

Here, the architect focuses his attention on Abeer, making eye contact with her and smiling. He can already see that Salim is sold on the design.

Architect: You glide from one unique room to the next, entertaining your many guests. Each room is just the right size to hold around twenty guests, but together, these interconnected reception rooms can host a much larger number. This is the magic of the design. All the rooms are clearly defined, but they open up to each other to make one big space. I’m sure the younger guests would prefer sitting together in one room so they can mischievously whisper their secrets and laugh at the latest jokes. The older guests would want to sit together in another room to catch up with old friends. Each room has enough privacy for a cozy atmosphere, but never loses its connection to the larger party.

Can you almost hear the sounds of the party? Can you feel the excitement, and smell the food? This will go on for a few hours of absolute joy. Then, the big event. [he points to the floor plan] All eyes will be on the spiral staircase. Your daughter slowly makes her way down the steps. She is revealed gradually. First, only her shoes, then the white of the dress, then her arms, then her shoulders, then her face. The room is absolutely still. No one breathes. No one blinks. And the party continues…

The architect leans back. There is moment of silence, as he mentally congratulates himself on his performance, and Abeer and Salim absorb what they just witnessed. They glance from the drawings to the architect, and then to each other.

Salim: Wow, wow! I love it! This is beautiful. Truly perfect. I don’t even know what to say. I just feel very emotional thinking of Sarah’s future. [he turns to Abeer, and points to a perspective showing the spiral staircase] Can you imagine Sarah walking down these steps?

Abeer: Yes, the drawings are beautiful. I love the classical style of the rooms, and I like how each room is different. I just had a few practical questions. The way all the rooms open up to each other would be perfect for a large party, as you described. But what about small gatherings, if its’ just me and a few friends. It would be nice to be able to close one of these rooms to make it more private.

Salim: Hmm, yeah, that would actually make sense.

Architect: I don’t think there is a need for that. [he points at the floor plan] Look at the openings between the rooms. They are not very wide, quite reasonable. It will feel like an enclosed room.

Abeer: I understand. But, for example, some of my friends are hijabis. They would feel more comfortable removing their hijab if there wasn’t an opening in the wall, where Salim or Marzouq, once he grows up, would be able to look through as they enter and exit the house. [she points to the perspective showing the opening framed by the white cabinet] I would think it’s not difficult to add a door in this opening. It is already framed.

Architect: Oh no! That wouldn’t do. A door would totally ruin the effect of free-flowing space. That effect is crucial to the design.

Salim: How about a folding screen that can be extended and contracted depending on the situation?

Architect: To do that, the lovely arch of the opening would have to be replaced with a plain rectangular hole. The house would lose its classical style that you specifically asked for.

Salim: I do think the arch is beautiful. [he turns to Abeer] Is a door really that important? I am sure we can coordinate my entering and exiting the house to suit your schedule.

Architect: Yes, I suggest solving this issue by coordinating your schedules, not with doors. Also, I want to keep us focused on the bigger picture. Getting distracted with small technicalities can easily ruin the architectural quality of the house. Let’s think big. Big occasions. Big parties. Big lives.

Is it so bad to make a few small sacrifices to have the perfect engagement party for your daughter?

The architect says this looking straight at Abeer. This imaginary engagement party, for her currently eight-year-old daughter is starting to annoy her.

Abeer: Well, I am not against making sacrifices. I know a house can’t be perfect. But I also have practical concerns about hosting big events in this space. In such occasions, the men and women would, of course, have separate parties. We might have asked for a European style house, but we are not Europeans [she smiles]. If there is a way to divide the rooms, we would be able to have a private space for men, and a private space for women. [she turns to Salim] Or are you fine with having your daughter partying with the men?

Salim: No, of course not! It goes without saying that the parties would be segregated. [he turns to the architect] Is there a way to do that?

The architect pauses and thinks. He is quickly trying to find the right words to save his design from being meddled with. Abeer used his idea of the daughter’s engagement party against him. He must find another strategy.

Architect: First, I think it would not hurt any of us to be a little more European, don’t you think? [he smiles at Salim, trying to get him back on his side] But anyway, these reception rooms can be used by men or women. That’s for you to decide.

My point is that all elements of this design work together. I have put a lot of effort, not just in designing the main rooms and their decoration, but also on supporting rooms. [he points at the floor plan] Look at how the kitchen connects to this reception room. Look at how the spiral staircase is centered in relation to the front door.

Don’t let the beauty of the house fool you, it works like a Swiss watch [he smiles]. Changing one part would definitely have a negative effect on its functionality. I really only want your long-term comfort.

Salim: All your effort is very much appreciated. Don’t take this as criticism. We are only thinking out loud and having a friendly conversation. We will probably not make any changes to the design. [he turns to Abeer] What do you think?

Abeer: I agree, of course. The design is amazing and beautiful. The issues I bring up are quite small. I am sure we will find simple solutions that keep that design as you intended, and add some practicality to the house.

Abeer thinks she has made her point while being diplomatic, and avoided hurting the architect’s feelings. The architect thinks she is being passive aggressive. He is ready to draw battle lines, counting on Salim’s support. He directs his words to Abeer.

Architect: Your words sound like praise, but their meaning points to the opposite. I have tried to explain how changing one thing in the design, would mean that the house, as a whole, would suffer. Maybe you have not understood me, because I don’t seem to understand you. If you dislike the design please say so openly.

Salim decides to act quickly before things further sour.

Salim: No, no, I am sure she likes the design. It is a spectacular effort. Everyone likes the design.

Abeer: No, not everyone! I only like the parts of the design that work. I definitely don’t like the parts that don’t!

You think you’re so smart for placing the kitchen next to the reception area for easy service, but you seem to have forgotten that we are in Kuwait not Italy. We eat machboos and murabyan, not spaghetti Bolognese. We use a lot of spices, and we cook is large pots. In my daughter’s ‘engagement party’, as you keep saying, my guests might as well sit in the kitchen, because the entire reception area will stink of cooking!

The architect sits silently, regretting his aggressive comments. He thinks he miscalculated his tactics. Salim decides to step in again to calm everyone down.

Salim: Surely, it’s not that bad.

Abeer: Yes it is! Any woman in Kuwait would know that you have to either move the kitchen away from the reception area, or build a greasy outkitchen to do the heavy cooking in.

I also have issues with the spiral staircase. Sure, it looks nice, but I don’t trust it. My children are small, and I am worried they would trip on these irregular steps. I would rather have a simple staircase, a normal one that is safe, than a fancy one that would worry me every time one of us was going up or down...

Architect: Is that all?! It seems you want to change everything! I knew you didn’t actually like the design. I have put all this effort designing an elegant classical house, and you want a ‘normal’ staircase! Why did you hire me if you wanted something ‘normal’?

Abeer: Because we thought you knew what you were doing!

Salim: Ok, Ok. Let’s all calm down. There is no need for this. How about we keep these drawings for a few days to think about them, and then have another meeting to talk some more? I am sure it will all be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.

Architect: Fine.

Abeer: Fine.

Salim: Great! [his tone is of a teacher addressing a couple of quarreling school children] See how we can all get along? [he holds out his hand for the architect] Come, let me walk to you to the door. Thank you so much for all your effort. I will give you a call tomorrow.

Salim leads the architect down the stairs and out to the front door of the house.

SCENE THREE

It’s later on the same day, around 10 pm. Abeer and Salim had not talked to each other after the meeting with the architect, except in monosyllable sounds. Salim decides to break the ice.

Salim: So... You and the architect seem to be getting along quite nicely. [he smiles] I’m starting to feel jealous.

Abeer: Very funny.

Salim: Seriously though, it didn’t have to get uncivil, did it?

Abeer: He started it.

Salim: You know he’s just trying to design the best house that he can. He’s working hard for us. We should try to work with him.

Abeer: He’s designing the best house for himself, not for us. The house doesn’t fit our lifestyle. It’s beautiful, but unpractical. Anyway, if you want us to meet again, I can do that, but that’s only because you seem to really want him to design our house.

Salim: I do. I believe he’s the right man for the job. I’ll call him tomorrow and set up another meeting. Did you know he had drawings of the first floor bedrooms that he didn’t even get to?

Abeer: Ok, let’s meet him and see the drawings. But don’t expect me to keep my opinions to myself. If I don’t like his design, I’ll make sure he knows.

They both smile, Salim more nervously than Abeer.

SCENE FOUR

They are all back in the living room: The architect, Salim, and Abeer. The children, Sarah and Marzouq, are also there playing on the floor next to their parents. The seating arrangement had changed from the previous meeting. Salim and the architect are sitting on one couch, and Abeer is sitting opposite them on another. Between them is the coffee table with rolled drawings.

Sarah: I want my room to be Purple, because Purple is my favorite color.

Architect: What a coincidence, Purple is my favorite color too! I’ll make sure your room is Purple. [he turns to Marzouq} And what color do you want your room to be?

Marzouq: Green.

Architect: oh, good choice! I like Green too! I have two favorite colors: Purple and Green. Why do you like Green?

Marzouq is too young to know how to answer that question. Nevertheless, he stares at the architect with intense attention, and says what he thinks is an appropriate response.

Marzouq: Green.

The architect continues to gently smile and nod his head in agreement with Marzouq.

Architect: Ok, Green it is. Got it.

Salim: Sarah, take Marzouk and play over there in the corner. We have to talk about important things with this gentleman.

Sarah: Ok.

Sarah gets up, holds her brother’s hand, and confidently drags him to the corner. Marzouq does not want to go, but has no choice. He doesn’t complain though, because he is more confused than distressed.

Salim: So, shall we get to it?

Architect: Yes, I have a few more drawings to show you that I didn’t get to last time.

Abeer: Great, I can’t’ wait to see them!

Both Salim and the architect, caught by surprise by Abeer’s apparent enthusiasm, look up to see if it’s genuine or sarcastic. They can’t figure it out.

The architect unrolls his drawings and carefully organizes them on the table. This time, the arrangement is tricky, because Abeer and Salim are sitting opposite to each other. He hesitates for a second, but ends up orienting most of the drawings towards Abeer, and a couple of perspectives towards Salim. He doesn’t like it, but moves on.

Architect: Let’s imagine the future, five years from now. God willing, you will have two more beautiful children. This house needs to serve your practical needs at that time, and even further into the future. [he looks at Abeer] Isn’t that right Abeer?

Abeer thinks the architect must have rehearsed his speech, including this little gesture.

Abeer: Yes, exactly. I totally agree.

Architect: This design will do exactly that. [he points to the floor plan] There are four main parts to the first floor: a living room with a small kitchenette, the master bedroom, a ‘boys’ wing’, and a ‘girls’ wing’.

Each of the two children’s wings has two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. This way, the boys and girls can have some privacy. All the bedrooms are spacious and have large windows. The children will be able to use these rooms for many years without outgrowing them.

And just as with the reception rooms downstairs, each bedroom will be designed with a different color palette, décor details, and furniture to match. I believe that each child should feel that their room is special to them. Taking ownership of one’s space is an important step in a child’s mental development, helping them grow up to become strong and independent individuals. I will of course consult you before finalizing the color palettes.

Salim: Colors aren’t my strong suit. What do you think Abeer?

Abeer: Sarah said her room should be Purple, and Marzouq wants his to be Green. So we only have to choose for the other two rooms.

Architect: Oh, I was just kidding with the children. We don’t have to stick with what they said. I’m sure we can figure out what is most appropriate.

Abeer: I think if you asked them and they answered, there’s no good reason not to respect their choices. I would go ahead with Purple for Sarah, and Green for Marzouq.

Architect: I was actually thinking of keeping the palette of the private spaces to soft earth tones. I fear a Purple room and a Green room would be too jarring to the eye. [he turns to Salim] What do you think Salim?

Salim does not want to be the tie-breaker. He doesn’t even think the colors of the children’s rooms are important. But both the architect and Abeer are looking at him, expectedly.

Salim: What if we come back to this issue later. Let’s look at the rest of the design, maybe the master bedroom?

Architect: Ok, although we should try to finalize some decisions today for me to be able to move forward with the design.

Abeer: I actually have another issue to discuss concerning the children’s bedrooms. Am I misreading your drawings or are you assuming that our next two children will be a boy and girl? There are two bedrooms in each ‘wing’, is that correct?

Architect: Yes, that is correct. I know we can’t be 100% certain, but it is statistically the most probable outcome. A boy and a girl.

Salim: hmm, yes, statistically...

Abeer: Statistically... “the most probably outcome”?

Architect: Yes, of course, statistically.

Abeer: And what if we have two boys? Will one of the boys stay in the girls’ wing? Or will be change its name to the ‘gender-neutral’ wing? Or maybe the two boys share a bedroom in the boys’ wing, and Sarah gets to have two bedrooms?

Sarah looks up from the corner as she hears her name.

Salim was getting more worried with each of Abeer’s sarcastic questions. He glances at the architect to see how her rhetorical jabs are being received. To his relief, the architect seemed unaffected. He is looking at Abeer with no expression.

Salim: Oh, I’m sure it’s none of these answers Abeer. Maybe, if we have two boys, which is statistically improbable of course, [he points at the plan] we close this door opening to the girls’ wing, and open a door in this wall onto the boys’ wing. That shouldn’t be hard.

The architect is horrified by the suggestion, but tries not to show his emotions. He does not want them to start breaking walls and closing doors as soon as the house is built, completely subverting his intentions.

Architect: oh, no. I don’t think that will be necessary...

Abeer ignores the architect and answers Salim.

Abeer: And what if we have two girls? What walls will you break? And what doors will you close?

We simply cannot assume the genders of our unborn children. You can design a girl’s room for Sarah, a Purple one, and Green boy’s room for Marzouq. The other two rooms must be able to serve a girl or a boy.

Architect: Are you suggesting abandoning the whole concept of the wings? The wings are very important to the design. The two wings are opposing anchors that organize the rest of the space around them. Breaking the coherence of the wings will render the floor plan illegible. It simply won’t do.

This issue can be resolved if you decide to have a little more faith in statistical probability.

Abeer: [clearly getting frustrated] Believe me, if I could determine the gender of my unborn children to allow you to keep you design concept, I would, but I can’t. So it’s not an option. The two extra rooms have to be able to serve a girl or a boy.

Architect: [also getting worked up] I cannot allow the entire concept of the house to be simply discarded because of your lack of faith in statistical probability!

Abeer: My house, my rules! Deal with it!

The architect turns to Salim.

Architect: Whose house is this?!

Salim: It’s our house, all of us. Let’s just calm down. I think the floor plan is quite ingenious. It looks very practical and beautiful. The perspective drawings are very impressive. Let’s leave the issue of the children’s bedrooms for a second. Let’s look at the master bedroom. [he points at a perspective drawing of the room] Look at that! I can imagine having my morning tea in that balcony, and reading the paper.

Abeer: You don’t even drink tea in the morning! And you read the newspaper in the office! Salim, this is the house we will live in with our children, not some imaginary family.

We can move on to another part of the design, but I’m warning you, both of you, I will not change my mind!

Architect: And I will not change mine either! I don’t want to keep moving on without finalizing any decisions. We need to resolve the issue of the children’s wings right now.

Salim, you need to decide, do you want to make a rational decision based on statistical probability, or do you want to scrap the entire design and start from scratch?

Salim: I think both your opinions have value... and I think... that... what if we... hmm I really don’t know.

Abeer: I actually have another issue with the children’s rooms.

Architect: Unbelievable!

Salim: [whispering to himself] God have mercy.

Abeer: Twenty years from now, when Marzouq is old enough to get married, I want us to have space in this house for him to live with his wife and family. Land in Kuwait is so expensive these days, and it’s only going to become more so. I want to make sure that my son has a place he can stay in after getting married, at least for a few years until he finds his own place.

Architect: But we already agreed on not adding a third floor to the house! You said you wanted a reasonably sized two story house. Where do you suggest I add the space you’re talking about?!

Abeer: I don’t know. I’m not the architect. Maybe two of the bedrooms can be closed off, and connected to an external staircase so that they can have their privacy as they enter and exit the house. I’m not sure how to achieve this, but it’s very important to me.

Salim: This does seem like a useful feature, [he turns to the architect] but I’m not sure if it’s possible to integrate in the design.

Architect: It is absolutely not possible! You said you wanted a grand house, with a classical style. Well, grand houses don’t have ugly external staircases hanging form their side, and European classical houses don’t have space for the entire extended family!

You asked me to design one thing, and now you want something else!

Abeer: We are in Kuwait, and in Kuwait, newly married sons often live with their parents. That’s the tradition. I am not inventing anything new! Aren’t Salim and I living in his parents’ house right now?!

Architect: This is absolutely unacceptable! I don’t know if I can work on this project anymore! This meeting isn’t going anywhere, so I will leave. You can keep the drawings for a few days to make your decision. If you still want me to work on the project, then I will only apply minor changes to the design. [he stands] But if you insist on these drastic alterations then I suggest you find another architect!

Abeer: That’s fine with me!

Salim: Ok, ok, let’s stay calm. There’s no reason to take this personally. [he stands and holds out his hand to the architect] Let me walk you to the door. Don’t worry, we’ll think about what you said, and I’m sure we’ll reach a decision that you will like.

Salim and the architect walk out quickly. Abeer remains seated, and looks over at Sarah and Marzouq. Sarah is nervously looking back at her, clearly upset by the loud voices. Marzouq is still playing. Abeer gets up and walks over to comfort Sarah.

SCENE FIVE

The entire family is standing on the edge of the site. The architect is standing next to Salim. A tractor is moving earth from one place to another. Half a dozen workers are being ordered around by a contractor. In his hands are the architect’s drawings.

Architect: [talking to Salim] The basement and foundation work will take a couple of months. Then, you will see your house rising in no time!

Salim: Yes, God willing. Again, I want to thank you for the great work you have done for us. We really appreciate it. And it goes without saying, I want you to keep an eye on the construction work on site. I want everything to be done according to your design and good construction practices.

Architect: Of course, I will visit the site every week, and one of my associates will visit the site more than that.

Salim: That’s good to hear. Thank you.

Architect: Excuse me, I will go speak with the contractor.

Salim: Of course.

The architect walks over to the contractor. Salim and Abeer exchange glances. Sarah is staring at the tractor. Marzouq is counting sidewalk pavements. Salim starts talking to Abeer.

Salim: You look worried.

Abeer: No, I’m just thinking. We’re going to live here for the rest of our lives. It’s an important moment.

Salim: You’re worried about the design, aren’t you?

Abeer: No, I’m not worried. I just hope that you were right about the design, and about trusting him with the house.

Salim: He’s a very good architect.

Abeer: So you say.

Salim: We can still ask him to make some changes to the design if you want. People make changes even after construction starts.

Abeer: No, I’m not doing that anymore. We all said what we wanted to say, and we each made our decision. Now, we are where we are. I’ve moved on. I just hope you were right.

END

Eclectic Histories: Modernism

Hey, what’s the name of the architect who designed the Barcelona Pavilion?

The Spanish guy?

I guess so. He’s the one who wears the round glasses.

Yeah I remember his face. Didn’t he also design the Bauhaus?

I’m sure he did. I’m researching innovative domestic architecture in the first half of the 20th century, and I know he invented the Prairie Style.

Really? Prairie style is so different than the Bauhaus style. He must have invented a new style every Monday morning.

That’s what geniuses do, man. He did Prairie style in America, but when he immigrated to Germany after WWII he worked in the Bauhaus.

Oh, interesting. Is he the one who said, “The crime is in the details”?

I think so.

Cool.

So you don’t remember his name?

No. But you should look up the Domino’s House. It’s very relevant to your research.

That’s the one built on top of a waterfall and all the wall panels are primary colors, right?

Yes. [sneezes]. Excuse me.

Gesamtkunstwerk.

Thanks.