I sat at my studio desk, cleaning up after myself after the always hectic end of semester push. New Haven was slowly emptying itself as the holiday season drew close. As the studio gradually emptied, I found my mind gradually filling itself with a conversation I had with Gerard a few weeks ago right around thanksgiving. 

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We were recounting my first semester away from CMU. After a brief lull in the natural flow of conversation and a quick sip of IPA, Gerard asked, “So what’s the plan afterwards?” 

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“I want to teach and practice” I instinctively responded. 

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I don’t think I was able to articulate my rationale behind that answer at the moment. But as the dust settles around the hecticness of school, and I find my self having more time to reflect back on the past 6 months; a clearer reasoning behind my answer. 

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I remember sitting in the shade of the only tree in the courtyard of the Faculty of Architecture in Porto hiding from the sting of the Portuguese sun while listening to my fellow classmates present the work they’ve produced the night before. Only half listening, my mind was trying to cool itself by imagining an ice cold SuperBock in my hand. When Jose Martins (my studio instructor) suddenly stopped talking. 

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Uh oh, was my day dreaming too obvious? 

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“Diana sorry. Stop. Look at my arms. You don’t need to finish explaining your project. That is enough.” Jose broke the silence again holding out both of his arms. Disrupted from my daydream I turned my head just as Jose shuddered a little. The goosebumps on his arms glistened in the afternoon light. 

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“I need to take a breather.” Exhaling, like the dancer right before the curtains closed, Jose turned around and walked away. 

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In that moment you could tell that Architecture wasn’t just another student’s assignment for him anymore, the way his whole body was engaged in the desk crit was like a piece of contemporary dance, it was a genuine gushing of passion. 

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I was moved by that instance of vulnerability. 

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In the past, I’ve been told that all the great architects taught. So to be great you must teach as well. As if that’s some sort of magical key to the gateway of Architectural greatness. But I think in the last 6 months, I’ve changed my mind about why I want to teach. 

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Sure, I want to be great, but maybe education at its base shouldn’t be about that egocentrism, maybe education is about something bigger! Jose, Gerard, Mark, Peter, Francis, Billie, Andre, Badgely all remind me of the chinese phrase “大愛” (da ai)”. Translated directly it means “big love”, some sort of transcendental love for all. In the case of Architecture, I guess, it’s not just about the love for the Discipline, but a sincere belief in what we do can cause a greater good in the world. This belief I am brought to believe  will always manifest itself in some sort of pedagogical ideal, some sort of directly didactic action.  

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That Love doesn’t just show through their work. I think I understand now. The greats are all educators as well because their Love is more than the beautiful objects that they create. Their Love is about their belief in their responsibility to light the spark of romantic hopefulness we all possess as makers. 

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Back to that empty studio in New Haven. 

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I took a look at the energy of the mess left behind on my studio mate’s desks. It’s the physical manifestaion of the intoxicating Love and Passion that goes into what we do; and exactly what drew me to it in the first place.

 

- T