As Sam Farber, a former American Folk Art Museum trustee, tells it, there were three firms in the running in the late 1990s for the commission to design the institutionâs town-house-scaled home on West 53rd Street. âThe other two firms came to the interview with models. Tod and Billie came and said, âWe really canât give you a model, because we really donât know what weâre going to do.â â They told the museumâs building committee, headed by Farber, that they needed to talk with everyone involvedâcollectors, curators, staffâbefore they could even begin the design process. âI thought, âThatâs marvelous,â â Farber recalls. Tod Williams Billie Tsien Architects (TWBTA), of course, got the job, and built a little museum that opened to much acclaim just three months after Sept. 11. The New York Times critic Herbert Muschamp declared: âThe Rebuilding of New York has already begun.â
The method Farber describesâstarting without preconceived notions, demonstrating a willingness to listen, and developing a design based on a deep understanding of what is truly desiredâapplies to all of the firmâs work. âI think we have signature values,â Tod Williams, FAIA, says. âBut not a signature style.â When Williams and Tsienâs clients describe the buildings in which they work or live, they donât just talk about the beauty of the views or the materialsâalthough those qualities come upâbut they credit the architecture with having an uncanny effect on the lives within.
For instance, Dr. Einar Gall of the 1995 Neurosciences Institute in La Jolla, Calif., says that the design of the buildings so effectively promoted socializing among researchers that âwe believe that these interactions led to several important discoveries that would not have been made in their absence.â And Alan Silverman, who with his wife, Gretchen Freeman, owns the 1996 Desert House in Phoenix, says that it âhelped our children to develop a sense of daily, intimate interaction with the desert.â
Most of TWBTAâs buildings are like the Folk Art Museum. They are small, but so sure of themselves that it would be inaccurate to call them modest. They are confident buildings, but not boastful ones. They have a way of insinuating themselves into the landscape, behaving as if theyâve always been there. Every material has been chosen with great thought; each texture an expression of some intrinsic value. To enter a TWBTA building is not simply to experience the results of the architectsâ skill at listening to their clients, but to be privy to a conversation that Williams and Tsien have been having with one another for over three decades.
The Neurosciences Institute
La Jolla, Calif., 1995
The idea of âtaking a program for what might be a singular building and splitting it,â observes Billie Tsien, AIA, is a theme that âreappears in our work.â The Neurosciences Institute (today controlled by the Scripps Research Institute) is a case in pointâa cluster of three buildings, largely buried in the landscape, with a plaza at the center. âWeâre not interested in making a building that is an object,â Tsien continues. âBy making separate buildings, it becomes more of a place than a thing.â Conceived of by researchers who desired a âscientific monasteryâ dedicated to a deeper understanding of the brain and consciousness, it is cherished by those who work there for the variety of views of both architectural detail and the natural environment. The architecture, according to research director W. Einar Gall, fostered discovery by promoting social interaction between scientists. For instance, a sleep researcher and an insect behavior specialist crossed paths at the institute, and through their collaboration demonstrated âfor the first time that insects actually sleep.â
Desert House
Phoenix, Ariz., 1996
The Silverman-Freeman house is, in a way, a prototype for many of the TWBTA projects that followed. âThat house was trying to be quiet, and of the desert, and simple,â Tsien says. It is broken into components: In this case, two simple rectangular buildings that sit on either side of a desert wash that attracts greenery and animal life. The two wings are connected by bridges, one enclosed and one open. âI really like standing in the houseâs indoor bridge,â says homeowner Gretchen Freeman, âand looking out over the wash. The view provides the sensation of being right in the middle of the desert, away from the city.â The home serves as a template for the firmâs approach to surfaces, a whole palette of textures and effects conjured from one basic material: concrete. The house is built of insulated concrete block walls, sandblasted or polished, and concrete floors that have been ground into terrazzo. âI love the way Tod and Billie used common materials to create a special, uncommon home,â says Freemanâs husband, Alan Silverman.
Cranbrook Natatorium
Bloomfield Hills, Mich., 1999
âThey managed to transform the experience of swimming indoors,â says Reed Kroloff, a former competitive swimmer and the director of the Cranbrook Academy of Art and Art Museum, and imbue it âwith all of the wonder and freshness of swimming outdoors.â Explains Williams: âWhen you swim in a pool, you use air conditioning to dehumidify. Here we used natural ventilation. The walls and ceiling open. When they do, thereâs always a fan thatâs blowing, and the breezes come through, so you smell the pine forest instead of chlorine.â But the magic of the place is not just in the ventilation system. Itâs about how the random patterns of lights in the deep blue ceiling mimic the effect of swimming under a nighttime sky. Itâs about how a combination of windows that meet the pool deck and a hilly site make swimmers feel âas if youâre swimming through the trees,â Kroloff says. In the roof are two 30-foot-wide occuli, which the natatorium staff will sometimes open during a snowstorm. âSnow comes through like a column,â says Kroloff, and then melts before hitting the water.
American Folk Art Museum
New York, 2001
âThey thought it would be fait accompli, no big deal,â says Tsien, speculating about what the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) officials were thinking when they recently announced their intention to demolish the Folk Art Museum. âI think MoMA has been totally shocked by the fact that thereâs opposition.â The tiny eight-story museum, squeezed onto a footprint just 40 by 100 feet, is notable not just for its opaque, sculpted façade, but for the staircase that wends through the upper floors, doubling as a gallery, with artworks displayed along the way. In fact, this feature pays homage to the museumâs potential destroyer. Williams explains: âOne of the things we always loved about the old MoMA: You remember walking up the stairs and getting to that Oskar Schlemmer painting?â He means the one that shows people climbing the Bauhaus staircase. âThat was a touchstone.â Williams and Tsien also recall how they brought the whole construction crew to the Cooper Hewittâs Triennial to immerse them in the values of design. It was their way of telling the workers, in Williamsâs words, âThis is not just any piece of work. We want you to give your best, because itâs something youâll leave behind.â
David Rubenstein Atrium
New York, 2009
âWhat Iâm genuinely surprised by is, whenever I enter the space, how serene it is even when itâs packed,â says Lincoln Center president Reynold Levy about the David Rubenstein Atrium, a privately owned public space directly across Columbus Avenue from Lincoln Centerâs famous plaza. According to Levy, one of the reasons Williams and Tsien were chosen for the project was that âthey were passionate about what they could do with the space. They understood that it needed to serve as a kind of Lincoln Center commons.â When the architects talk about the odd space, wedged in between two buildings, in which they designed the 9,600-square-foot annex, itâs with great conviction. Tsien says that they wanted to make the atrium feel âlike a garden or a refuge.â She cites the large green walls, the water feature, the 97-foot-long felt mural by Dutch artist Claudy Jongstraâand the well-maintained public restrooms. âWe wanted this to be a place where people who are homeless could be sitting next to someone who was having a glass of prosecco before they go to the opera. All people would be welcome into a place that felt calm, controlled, and beautiful.â
Center for the Advancement of Public Action
Bennington College, Vt., 2011
The center, says Bennington president Elizabeth Coleman, is intended to âfoster a lively give-and-take about how to move the needle on complex public issues.â Like many TWBTA projects, this is a suite of buildings: a symposium space, a small residence hall, and a multipurpose facility called the Lens. From a distance, the complex appears to exude that lovely white-washed glow so common in Vermont. The buildings, with geothermic heating and cooling, are clad in marble reclaimed from six defunct local quarries. According to one of its resident fellows, Gong Szeto, a noted interaction designer, the center was intended to look and feel like a â âsecular church,â a place where people gather ⊠to contemplate the deeper meanings and relationships between an individual, her polity, and the complexities of the society within which she lives.â Adds Tsien: âThereâs a sense of gathering together in an almost Quaker way.â
Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts
University of Chicago, Ill., 2012
This arts center features a 172-foot-tall tower clad in long bars of golden limestone, which affords expansive views across Midway Plaisance, an Olmsted-designed green. The rest of the complex is housed in a low, industrial-style remake topped by successive ridges of skylights. âTod and Billie were chosen because of their vision to create a beacon for the arts with their dramatic tower,â says Loganâs executive director, Bill Michel. âIt was so complex to actually build a tower of the arts and make it really work,â Williams says, âthat about two or three years into it we just said, âMea culpa, we cannot do this. You have to get rid of this tower.â â The recession, of all things, rescued the project. âThe economy tanked just at the right moment, and we made it on budget because suddenly contractors were desperate for work.â
Tata Consultancy Services
Mumbai India, Phase 1, 2012
âWe had never been to India,â Williams confesses. Nor had TWBTA ever done any corporate work. Nonetheless, they were approached nine years ago by Ratan Tata, chairman of a $100 billion global conglomerate encompassing everything from steel mills to the luxurious Taj hotel chain. âWe said we donât do corporate work. Why are you asking us?â Tata gave three reasons. He told the architects that he believed they were responsive to nature and the 23-acre campus, called Banyan Park, had 1,800 trees on it. He said that he thought they cared about âmaterial culture,â something thatâs important in India. And Tataâs third reason, according to Williams, was âyou donât have a signature like my classmate at Cornell, Richard Meier.â âWe were immediately won over,â Williams says. Tsien and Williams spent the early years of the project traveling in India to learn about indigenous materials. The complex, one-third complete, is a compendium of their finds: concrete and local stone, carved panels known as Jali screens, China tile mosaics and Ikat fabrics. âAll the circulation is outdoors,â Tsien explains. âItâs shaded. There are cut-throughs so you feel breezes. Only the work spaces are air conditioned.â
Firm of the Year Advisory Jury
Elizabeth Chu Richter, FAIA (chair) Richter Architects, Corpus Christi, Texas; Norman Foster, Hon. FAIA Foster + Partners, London; Marlene S. Imirzian, AIA Marlene Imirzian & Associates Architects, Phoenix; Beverly J. Prior, FAIA HMC + Beverly Prior Architects, San Francisco; William D. Sturm, AIA Serena Sturm Architects, Chicago; Carole C. Wedge, FAIA Shepley Bulfinch Richardson & Abbott, Boston; David G. Woodcock, FAIA College Station, Texas; David Zach David Zach, Futurist, Milwaukee