INTERVIEW

Phil Freelon, FAIA

Design Director, Perkins+Will

21st February 2018

Can we talk about your migration into design? What took you there?

Freelon: It started with my architectural education and being a standout in studio – I was named top designer in my class. Years later, evaluating new hires, I always want to see their portfolio. Those who show promise during their academic careers can expect to do well in the profession. Conversely, if students haven't distinguished themselves while in design in school, it's hard to imagine they'll come into the professional realm and suddenly perform at the top levels.

You've been responsible for many high-profile, public projects, many focused on civil rights and the African American experience. Fast Company magazine labeled you America's Humanitarian Architect. How has practicing as one of America's leading minority architects on these building types informed your work? How did this practice focus come to be?

Freelon: I worked for firms in Boston, Houston, North Carolina, and other places for fourteen years before starting my own firm. So, I had quite a bit of experience in other practices, and with public buildings. I did higher ed, K-12, office buildings, institutional work, and more. When I started my firm as one, then two, then three people, growing organically, opportunities came for small projects in the cultural realm – community centers, libraries, galleries – but on a small scale. The choice is obvious for clients looking for an architect who understands the context of the building they're trying to create. For instance, in the case of NC State University, the African American Cultural Center was one of our early projects in the cultural realm. NC State was looking for someone who understood the school and the culture. Well, I'm an NC State graduate and I'm African American. There's a commonality and a congruence of thought. Clients sought me out at first, then I began to pursue projects based on my expertise. Over the years, building that expertise on buildings around the country positioned us to compete for projects like the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. The process was anything but overnight. The Smithsonian Institution came along at a time when we were experienced, mature and had relevant work experience in San Francisco, Atlanta and other cities. We gradually became known for work of this type. It was a long time in the making.

What's your attitude toward management? How do management forces shape your design work? i.e. Keep it in budget, on schedule, profitable? Are they opposing forces? Things done integrally, or best done by those with different, complementary skills? As a director of design, your focus is clear. How do you accomplish the rest? Do you see design and management as alternating perspectives?

Freelon: No. My career started in small firms. On smaller projects you can't compartmentalize management, design and technical details. You engage others who are stronger in those areas. In bigger firms, sometimes it's necessary to parse out aspects because projects are so large. You can't expect one person to manage the project and lead the design. But even in that scenario, you expect team members to respect each other's roles, so everyone is pulling in the same direction, with buy in and mutual understanding. We're all required to deliver a successful project. I prefer the integrated method. Even though you're pursuing design at the highest level, you need all aspects covered. I'd argue that if a project is just aesthetics, it's not complete. Similarly, if there's no regard to budget, schedule or technical quality, it's incomplete.

Perkins+Will is one of the oldest and largest firms in the U.S. Has their acquisition of Freelon changed your practice and daily tasks?

Freelon: It's a bigger firm, so management is more critical. The stakes are higher. Our CEO, Phil Harrison, earned his Master of Architecture degree from the Harvard Graduate School of Design. Naturally, design excellence is important to him. He doesn't design much anymore, but it shapes his thinking and approach to firm leadership. He champions it. Some of the other large firms are headed by lawyers, MBA's, or engineers who are much less design-focused. Perkins+Will and the Freelon Group had similar design-focused cultures. That why we decided to join forces. I still do what I'm good at, and my role as a design leader is evolving.

“It's the ideas that count, not whether they're put down on paper or in a computer … We're still in charge. We hold the mouse.”

How does technology shape your approach to design? How do you feel about machines? Do they make it easier to get the best out of people or add undue complexities?

Freelon: I've seen it all. When I started architecture school I had a T square and manual instruments, drawing on vellum. And then on through pens and pin bars, precursors to the computer. I've embraced it all. Not that I can do it all. I still draw by hand primarily because that's how I was brought up and I am more comfortable with the manual tools. I also draw using my computer. Some people rely too heavily on the computer to inform their design solutions. I embrace it. I admire it. But I also recognize that design is all about ideas. Computers can't imagine the same way humans can. We're still in charge. We hold the mouse. If you can't get what you imagine with one tool, use a different one. But I'm not going to criticize those who use digital tools. Some great work has resulted from people who start the ideation process on the computer. I happen to do it the other way because that's how I was trained. I'm good with all of it. Ultimately, it's the ideas that count, not whether they're put down on paper or in a computer. I'm annoyed by architects who talk about the “good old days.” It's like sports – everyone wants to romanticize the period they came from: “The players were better back then.” I don't buy it. I love what's happening now, how we're using BIM, Rhino, and the rest. It's exciting. Let's embrace it.

One analogy is: I have a manual screwdriver and a power one. I use them both. Valuable tools for different jobs. Although I do admit to joining the reminiscers sometimes.

Freelon: That's a good analogy.

The book's title, core questions, and themes imply conflict and portray an ever-tougher profession. Everybody wants faster, better, cheaper. Are you feeling that? How do your teams cope? Are there elegant solutions to what seems an age-old, culturally entrenched, complex problem set that can pave the way for a kinder, gentler, more collaborative profession?

Freelon: Absolutely. I feel it. Faster, better, quicker, more accurate. That's the world we live in today. There's a broader conversation about what architects do, and how we've lost control, or ground, to program managers, CMs and others. But it's like complaining about the rain. Well, it's raining on everybody. You can complain about it or do something. Open an umbrella. Deal with it. No one's going to slow down because architects feel like they don't have enough time to do their best work. Can we be more effective in how we engage our clients and explain the value we add? Can we be persuasive enough? That's on us. If you're doing something on the National Mall that's never been seen before, can you convince the Smithsonian Institution, National Parks Service, Secret Service, and the National Fine Commission on Fine Arts that it can be done, and should be done? It's incumbent upon us.

Did you get any formal training in communication, presenting, persuasion, strategy, or politics in architecture school?

Freelon: You know the answer: certainly not. What we do as architects is only partially addressed in school. I think that's okay. Look, you have precious few semesters to focus on design, theory and learning how to think creatively and critically. I'm not in favor of taking time from important lessons in the studio environment to teach students to draw in Revit or learn to be a project manager. We have an internship period for that. In school, let's focus on what you can't get outside of academia. Your own life experience is part of it. My dad was in sales and marketing. I got to see and absorb those skills by being around people who were excellent at it. My folks didn't know any architects, but we knew what a profession was. I'm not saying we shouldn't teach it. We all had professional practice class in school. I taught it at NC State and MIT, but from a designer's perspective. I taught that factors like cost, schedule, and fees can influence the design approach. I'm an optimist. Let's solve it, not whine about it. Use what you have. I played football very briefly, and I remember complaining to the coach, “It's cold, it's wet,” and how tough it was. My coach told me, “That's happening on both sides of the field. Don't talk to me about that. Deal with it.”

The design profession is experiencing some angst about the “rain” and about other professions encroaching. Have you forged any new processes or secret sauce in response?

Freelon: It comes down to talent. In design, to start with, you have to have ability, then hone and work hard at it. Not everybody can be an excellent designer. You have to find, attract, retain and nurture talent. Give them opportunities to grow and work on interesting buildings. In a larger firm, that gets more difficult. At Perkins+Will, we have the Design Leadership Council. Internal reviews inform and evaluate our design product, so we're not focused only on financial factors. That's unusual for a big firm. It starts at the top. Phil Harrison understands the value of design. It's not cheap to fly people around to do design reviews and weigh in on projects during the conceptual phase. But we do. We're big on stakeholder involvement. A lot of our work is civic and public, so we involve users early. Great ideas come out of it. It's not necessarily a secret sauce, but it's important.

Chuck Thomsen recalled the effectiveness of client empathy and involvement as far back as in the '60s - getting to know clients, valuing their work, becoming more expert and valued as you do.

Freelon: I used to work at 3D/I. Chuck transitioned it from a design firm to a Construction Management firm. When I was Loeb Fellow at Harvard, our paths crossed again. Yes, those things still work. They're what we do every day. As a design director, I take a hands-off approach. People need to be given leeway to be their best selves. You want to be there as a backstop but let them spread their wings. It's been a challenge to delegate design. But our firm wouldn't have grown beyond 15 people if I did all the design work. I'm trying to be the coach instead of the quarterback. I try to guide and influence more projects that way.

It's a common designer's malady, because we love what we do and are so hands on. It's a classic hurdle to let go of the “doing.” What you refer to as “talent,” in design, technical issues, or other proficiency, has historically been highly valued in the old individualized practice mode. For some, that implies disdaining management. Doing and managing are different skills. Historically a hard leap for many designers. I'm not sure our owner and contractor friends understand that or know how to help us cope. Their world is more about managing than doing.

[Re: civil rights] “Architects are most distinguished by your thunderous silence and complete irrelevance.”

– Whitney M. Young, 1968

Freelon: I want to come back to where you started. Our profession, and the world in general, suffers from a lack of diversity. It's horrible that only 2 percent of architects are African American, and only 13 percent are women. It's appalling and embarrassing that the statistics are the same as 40 years ago, when I entered in the profession. It's not just a lost opportunity for individual development, it's also a lost opportunity to leverage the creative thinking that comes from having diverse conversations. If we're all the same, we miss it. Where is the diversity? It's a huge design problem. If you're not writing about that in this book, you're missing a very important point.

I am. I didn't set out to, but I'm learning. Diversity is becoming a big part of it. Not just racial and gender diversity, but including and embracing all perspectives: race, gender, architects, contractors, owners. More voices, understanding, richer teams, better ideas.

INTERVIEW

Allison Grace Williams, FAIA

Principal Provocateur, AGWms_studio

6th February 2018

Considering your distinguished and widely recognized body of work, I'd be interested to know what drove you to design and architecture?

Williams: In art school I gravitated toward printmaking … zinc plate etchings … a very process-driven medium. In etching, one can test how intentional deviation disrupts the outcome. But art was quite solitary, too private an audience, disconnected from meaningful engagement and contribution, with no way to know if a work was successful. Success was too subjective. I was drawn to architecture as a process, a process of design, a tool for discovery, and an opportunity for an artful approach to the built environment. Environmental and social concerns were (and are) central responsibilities of this profession as a social art and, for me, have always been integral. But art exploration as a tool for projects in the public realm was my primary motivator.

“A successful design leader doesn't always make friends but gains and promotes respect within the team. Respect for one another is crucial. Going forward as a team in unison around an idea of respect is powerful as it evolves. It infects every aspect of how a project develops, strengthening and enriching it continuously.”

Today we talk about social justice in a braver, up-front way, because we see, and can demonstrate, that design impacts outcomes indirectly and directly. That buildings create environments and a resonance (or discord) with people and places was always important. We are not designing in a vacuum. There was always a human factor or face, a balancing of specific aspects with the purpose and need, with a specific site, and with the desire to establish timeless importance and collective value.

I've mostly worked on large projects and design proposals in urban places. My training was at SOM – a true extension of formal education, a methodology around a timeless aesthetic. It was about the rigor, the iterative process of exploration, a reductive and frequently-technical interdisciplinary approach that distinguished SOM's learning environment. Tangled up in all that is instinct, gut, invention, nuance, and things hard to quantify, measure, or predict. It's still the way I think about design in practice: the integration of beauty still sponsors an authenticity and fundamental design excellence.

It's remarkable you've been able to work primarily on design-focused commissions. Have any been driven by commercial objectives?

Williams: I've been privileged to have captured, led, and collaborated on numerous great commissions, many won by competition. Notably, during the heyday of the GSA (Government Services Administration) Design Excellence Program. There, the intention was to position the design conversation, and design leadership, on major public and civic commissions very early through the selection of a lead designer. This allowed the design process to impact the program, sometimes the site selection, and, in theory, the coherency, and a whole, innovative, performative approach to the work. Though shortlisted for many more than I won, those pursuits influenced how I worked. That is, landing on a strong conceptual diagram, and following a holistic approach often defined, re-defined or re-positioned a project with specificity – with genuine responsive expression as an outcome. Moving upstream sets a framework for a big idea that tethers values and ties parts together. It informs how things evolve and frequently even shapes the details. I've always been most impactful earlier in the design process.

I've worked with developers where the pro forma, site plan, massing, and more might already be cast. Even then, I advocate (and rather enjoy) unpacking things, as far back as the project and client can stand it, to challenge or confirm the assumptions or approach and broaden the conversation beyond just the building. The hope in doing this is that a developer-led team might discover (together) some enhanced potential, some fundamental benefit to the bottom line, some meaningful programmatic contribution that they assess to be worth taking a calculated risk.

How have the “new” forces, schedule compression, technology, and increasing complexity, affected your approach?

Williams: The profession has changed in that the industry and the art are often not aligned. Clearly technology gives us the conceptual and analytical tools to study, iterate, analyze, and discover what we could not even imagine. It also pushes the process of design, documentation, and building faster to meet the speed with which everything needs to happen in this aggressive global economy. But is something inherently less valued when the priority is speed and cost? I have no regrets, but I sometimes imagine, what if I'd come along now – as a freshly minted architect – as opposed to 30 some years ago. Because things move faster, and collaboration and trans-disciplinary thinking is becoming more prevalent, more valuable. Beyond interdisciplinary collaboration between civil, structural engineers and architecture, crossing into disciplines such as medicine, the sciences, and, and, and. That's extremely interesting to me right now as an evolving way to deploy our design training.

“I don't accept that designers are unable to manage themselves!”

The rigor, the rationalization, and concept development – it's the notion of thinking outside the status quo, to think of ourselves as scientists as much as artists. I've always enjoyed coming at opportunities from all sides. Notably, in my experience, scientists are the most engaging clients when there is a shared sense of curiosity. Even when I'm just playing devil's advocate with myself, the best way to take the top off something is to look at it from a bunch of different angles. I've always been more interested in looking at what it could be, or what happens if we tweak a key aspect of the proposition.

What does it take to direct design successfully in a team setting, where goals of getting done on time may conflict with studying one more better idea?

Williams: What's required to lead is the ability, after putting ideas out there and taking everything in, to move the team in a clear direction. A successful design leader doesn't always make friends but gains and promotes respect within the team. Respect is crucial. Going forward as a team in unison around an idea with respect is powerful as it evolves. It infects every aspect of how a project develops, strengthening and enriching it continuously.

Going to your big firm days, you mentioned the 3-legged stool of skills at SOM: design, technical prowess and management. Most are strong in one area. Some have two, but it's rare to find someone strong in all three? How do you solve that?

Williams: Thinking singularly is unproductive. I'm always looking at intersections rather than silos.

Much of the challenge of managing design stems from misunderstanding, bias, ignorance, or siloed views. The knocks against designers are: inability to manage themselves, listen to clients, stay in budget and on schedule. How can we beat those stigmas?

“When architecture becomes the industry of production of buildings and the creative/artful/beauty conversations and roles are off the table, it's not much fun as a profession anymore. More of a ball and chain.”

Williams: I don't accept that designers are unable to manage themselves! I'd suggest that design schools are not teaching advocacy, and there is discussion on whether they should or not. Architects are not taught to advance ideas or articulate the value of an approach in convincing ways. We need to get better at stating and demonstrating value propositions, with metrics baked into the approach/proposition, as part of the evolution of the approach and decisions. It ultimately goes to whether we advance and benefit the outcome from the patron's perspective. What do we bring to the table? If we're playing out the predictable, responsible formula, nobody is unhappy, but we haven't advocated for ideas or their power to impact the formula. The goal isn't just to do something different for its own sake. Isn't it more about testing or furthering the value proposition or some other measurable metric? Why does this approach make a difference or matter? Is its impact measurable, on a personal or communal level, or environmentally? We have certain responsibilities as architects, beyond buildings not leaking or falling down. That was “101” in school. You always know where the sun is, you care who and what is next to you – the context. It's fundamental. But we don't always advocate and communicate the metrics that go with decisions. Now, many fresh, talented designers and impactful practices are figuring out how. I'm intrigued by that. It helps the profession restore relevance and necessity.

The pressure to balance creativity with project constraints seems to increase daily. How do we free ourselves? Should we walk away when objectives are misaligned?

Williams: It's a heavy order to suggest, from a business perspective, that architects walk away from projects. Most can't. But some do because it's the commitment they made to their practices – the principles for which they stand. We're probably reading and seeing the work of only a small percentage of the firms published in our magazines, pushing the edge, taking creative risks – excluding private residences. Lots of firms do respectable work, but so many buildings become the same, generic, formulaic response. Relatively few take even baby steps toward a dialogue that's reaching harder and keeping architecture-as-art in their conversation. When architecture becomes the industry of production of buildings and the creative/artful/beauty conversations and roles are off the table, it's not much fun as a profession anymore. More of a ball and chain.

Those lucky to have contributed to great projects want to continue high level collaboration and pursue great design. But if those are the goals, we have to meet them all. Your recounting of an 11th-hour design concept reversal brought back memories. We've all done it – then had to pay the price. Such a late-stage shift might draw teammates ire but must be done to reach the higher-level answer. Owners and teams who share such goals need to know this. How have you engaged management discipline?

Williams: Projects need leaders as passionate about management as other players are about design exploration and technical innovation. A good manager manages on behalf of the client, serving them in the evolution of a building. They are also hugely responsible to create a fertile environment in which a design process can flourish.