RICHARD MEIER

Architect

Graduate School of Design

Wednesday, November 11, 1998

By the time Richard Meier arrived at the Graduate School of Design's Piper Auditorium on Wednesday, he could barely get in the door. I watched him push his way through hordes of future yuppies and sycophantic adults, all so anxious to see him at the front of the room that they failed to notice his presence as he excused himself at their sides. There could be no parting of the waters where there had already been a flood.

Richard Meier, the world renowned Modernist architect best known for his work on the new Getty Center in Los Angeles, had been invited to Harvard to speak about his most recent projects. The result was a 20 year, autobiographical retrospective, starting with homes he designed and then continuing with public buildings. It was a purposeful and critical dialogue supplemented by amusing personal anecdotes, nothing too self-important or self-gratifying; his speech was just about his work.

Meier was still working in the office of Marcel Bruyer in 1969 when he was approached and asked to design a house for a plot of land in Connecticut, along the Long Island Sound. Meier used this example from his early work to indicate issues which have been a persistent concern for him. He emphasized repeatedly, in reference to various buildings, his attempts to integrate each construction with its particular environment.

In this instance, Meier inverted what he calls the "public" and "private" space. The entrance is adjacent to the private rooms, the bedrooms and studies, and a guest must move through them first to access the public region of entertainment. This shift echoes the transition from the inland side of the house to the waterside. This differentiation is manifest in the exterior construction as well. The proliferation of windows facing the water is distinct from any other wall. The entire house is composed along a diagonal that mimics the slope down to the water.

Meier proceeded to explain similar spatial dynamics crucial to the living spaces of homes he worked on in New Jersey, Southern California, Texas and Florida. It was interesting to hear an architect whose work is characterized by such bold, white rectilinear forms, reminiscent of hospitals and sanitariums, refer to the persistent influence of nature in his stylistic decisions. It was an unexpected revelation. Meier reminded the audience that a building does not have to fit into the landscape or be camouflaged by it to address the presence and spatial dictates of nature. Frank Lloyd Wright's way is not the only way.

The second half of the hour was dedicated to an analysis of Meier's public works: museums, courthouses, corporation buildings and churches scattered throughout the United States and Europe. Many of these projects reflected the same theme of the dichotomy between public and private space. The majority of these buildings were situated in cities, unlike the houses, and thereby led Meier to face new issues peculiar to construction in urban environments. Both special zoning regulations and the precarious place of modern architecture in the chronology of currently developing cities posed difficult obstacles for him. In the German Museum of Decorative Arts, a zoning restriction which divided the building into five-story and seven-story sections led to the inclusion of a large, delineated window (filled with space not glass) on one side of the building. This odd appendage later evolved into a characteristic feature of the design and symbol of the museum. His 1986 Stadthaus in Ulm, Germany was only built after a tenth referendum finally approved its construction. The building was intended to replace an area used for parking in front of the historic Gothic cathedral there and act as a center for the town.

Richard Meier's design is, admittedly, a drastic departure from that of the traditional Gothic Cathedral which had previously served a similar unifying purpose, but his building acknowledges this issue by referring to the cathedral in his own work. The Cathedral is omnipresent throughout the Stadthaus because it can be seen at all times through the skylights.

Richard Meier concluded his remarks for the evening by discussing the Getty Center. As is the case for most contemporary architectural projects, Meier had to win a competition to be chosen. When the tedious 14-year project began, the pool consisted of 100 architects. This was narrowed to 30 then to three and then to one.

The center is like a campus; it constitutes a cluster of many buildings, all of which Meier designed. Here the public parts of the complex are aligned with the freeway and UCLA, while the areas with more private needs (i.e. the library) are on the residential seaside. He aimed to use the outdoor spaces in this development just as much as the indoor spaces. Considering the elaborate arrival area, which allows visitors to rest, eat and plan outside before entering the complex, as just one of many examples--I think he succeeded.

Then again, it seems to me that he always does. No matter what challenge presented itself in any of his projects, situations so ridiculous that when he mentioned them the auditorium promptly produced riotous laughter, he always managed to use them to his advantage in creating a building that was functionally suited to its purposes and also wildly original.

He also succeeds as a speaker. Richard Meier managed to keep a packed auditorium of impatient, trendsetting, party hoppers thoroughly entertained for more than an hour. He kept me, with my coat and scarf still on and my bag still around my neck, squeezed between people who were tall enough to prevent my view both of Richard Meier and his slides, happily standing.

Richard Meier's talk was both a benefit to those who idolize him and got to hear his personal views on his work, and to those who were previously ignorant of him and were provided with a concise and thorough history.

Whether a student is interested in architecture or not, the speakers at the Graduate School of Design are generally worth listening to. My only advice would be, unless you do not mind sharing breathing space with a stranger, to arrive early.

Richard Meier, although unique, is certainly not the only speaker the GSD will have for whom the room will overflow.