Frank Gehry is designing a new house for himself and his family. Says the architect:
“The whole design is set up so that you can break it back down into its individual lots,” he said. “So when we’re gone, the kids can sell off parts of it if they want to, or get rid of the whole thing. It’s really for them.”
Weird literary parallels notwithstanding, the article is an interesting one for the insight it gives into Gehry the man: the piece was authored by a friend, and sheds light on the emotional side of things. For instance, his process and his past:
That lack of sentimentality — that sense that memory can be a prison as well as a source of inspiration — is essential to his creative process. He has said that he even needs to create some personal discomfort to force himself into new creative territory: dwelling in the security of the past, he argues, can be a trap.
Though I suspect this might be a pretty accurate description of most artists’ creative processes, it was nice to see it articulated.
Why does this matter to me? He designed MIT’s latest addition, Building 32, which to my chagrin is more commonly known as the Stata Center, and as a result I find myself curious about the man behind the sheet metal. A quick web search provides a link to this article, which is interesting insofar as it has essentially the same title as the Gehry article from the New York Times which started this whole entry, with “MIT” in place of “Frank Gehry.”
I’d argue that Building 20 was MIT’s dream house, but I’ve already been over that at length and so will spare you.