After work I hurried down to the lecture hall and excitedly took my seat behind one of the giant columns in the Great Hall at Cooper Union. For those of you who haven't experienced a lecture there let me try to describe it: you get your ticket and descend what appears to be a maintenance stair to a side entrance into a long hallway that ends in a wall. To your left are entry doors to the auditorium in the basement of the building. The space is cavernous, befitting a major lecture hall in New York City, but being as it is also the basement there are huge columns on a 30 foot grid. These do a fantastic job of obstructing the view from all sorts of different angles and so Cooper Union has been forced to put up additional screens so that the people who were not there in time to sit in the center can lean awkwardly in their seats to catch glimpses of any one of three projector screens. I was one of those people.
The lecture was scheduled to start at 7; I knew that the hour was nigh when I saw Bjarke put on the black hoodie. He was introduced by Amale at 7:09. Now, normally when designers are asked to speak at the Architecture League they cling to the lectern and lecture loquaciously with a surly sneer. Granted, even for well-spoken professionals it would be difficult to face an entire auditorium, none of whom you can see because all of the halogen lamps in the place are trained directly on your forehead. By 7:12, Bjarke had already left the lectern, mounted the stage, and was pacing excitingly across the stage explaining his projects.
For a good idea of what the talk was like (right down to the projects presented and the jokes told) one should just refer to the TED talks video and the commentary provided by the good folks at mammoth a few months ago. Suffice it to say that he was as exuberant and self-effacing as ever, with his charmingly goofy accent and propensity to stutter almost even disarming the icy New York crowd.
One thing struck me: Bjarke is completely unapologetic. Sure he wears a hoodie to give his presentation; why not? Sure, he leapt up on to the stage and is now gesticulating wildly. Sure his firm's defining publication is a comic book; why not? Well, of course there are very good reasons why you wouldn't do these things. Most of these have to do with decorum and respectability, which he seems to care nothing about. He's a confounding, captivating blend of punk rock and shameless opportunist. And he is up front about this- Yes Is More.
This attitude is wonderfully, ominously reminiscent of the life affirming world view of some ancient cultures discussed by Joseph Campbell in his comparative mythology ramblings. To quote Campbell, "The only way to affirm life is to affirm it to the root, to the rotten, horrendous base... Through the bitterness and pain, the primary experience at the core of life is a sweet wonderful thing. This affirmative view comes pouring in on one through these terrific rites and myths." And BIG affirms everything, be it traceurs using his exterior spaces for a little fun or literally building cheesy mountain-buildings in Asia. He does it in a visionary and sophisticated way, but it is also crass and flippant and it tends to offend architects' delicate sensibilities. I would liken him to Del tha Funky Homosapien more than any contemporary architect.
After his lecture he calmed down and came down from the stage, sweating and still a bit excited. And Amale was waiting for him with pursed lips. Now these were both coworkers at OMA just a few short years ago and are now heading up excellent studios. As is customary at these things they sat together for a little Q and A for the benefit of the plebeians sitting out amongst the basement columns. Amale immediately launched into a five minute diatribe disguised as question that essentially said- "you take whatever work comes your way. Why don't you ever set the agenda?" His answer, which could be seen as humble or a cop out- architects are just part of a larger system, we don't set the agenda and we have to go where the work is, that we are no different from the plumber or the banker or the pediatrician. It was utterly Koolhaasian). It was also an honest appraisal and while I think BIG has been very opportunistic early on, focusing on high-profile glamorous competitions and commissions, there is no reason this anti-ethos couldn't be applied to other types of projects that were smaller in scale or for more ambiguous in origin. Though they would probably draw less ire from the pious powers if they jumped on the public urban farm wagon.
While that is debatable, one of the most compelling anti-Bjarke (or anti-OMA) arguments I've heard is that we don't need more 200 million dollar luxury development projects and decadent new public entertainment parks when schools and scientific research are grossly underfunded, and infrastructure is failing and that by going after those commissions an architect is validating the perverse vision of the capitalist mastermind. But I reckon we don't want to hear that; we need the scraps from the table to publish in the awards issues each year.