19 May 2006

Ephemera @ Architecture Boston magazine: Brian Healy


Brian Healy often surprises people when they first meet him. His work says prima donna architect, but in appearance and general attitude, he’s more Lou Reed than Lou Khan. He’s the guy with thick silver hair wearing a black turtleneck and a pair of well-washed jeans. He’s also the former BSA president who resurrected Conversations on Architecture, a series of informal discussions with an invited architect, which he has held monthly since he first took office two years ago. Healy believes passionately in design, the singular reason he decided to run for the presidency. Through his conversations, he has brought the famous (Machado-Silvetti) and the esoteric (Mark Goulthorpe) to a public audience in an informal setting.

Twenty years ago, Healy presented his work at an original Conversation, when the forum was exclusive and members wore tuxes. Now it’s his show and after two years of moderating, he temporarily handed off the job to Campbell in January so that he could sit in the hot seat once again. Campbell introduced Healy with an anecdote: it was 1985 and he went to interview him when he had an office on McGrath Highway in Somerville. The space was a loft the size of a football field, entirely empty, except at the end where Healy sat alone at a drafting table, surrounded by exquisite models and stacks of CDs.

The image of the lone architect lingered as Healy presented his winning entry for The Mill Center for the Arts Competition in Hendersonville, North Carolina. This was the product of a singular mind: a holistic, complete, yet complex understanding of a site and program. He transformed the entire city block of a neglected Appalachian town into a performing arts center, complete with major concert hall, experimental theater, children’s museum, art gallery with artists’ studios, and a cafĂ©. He wrapped the site at street level with the most active pieces of the program and created a huge, landscaped amphitheater above. The concert hall and an exterior stage anchor the “bowl” at one end, while all parts of the complex provide entry points to this public park from the street. His proposal was a compelling mix of urban moves, the kind often considered, but rarely built—too expensive, too elaborate, too strange.

Healy’s projects seem to come out of his mind whole, and this is what’s so tough about him. People wanted to understand his process. But that’s the fascinating thing about him: he doesn’t get bogged down in logistics. His ideas come out complete and the office is streamlined to work this way. He can make a few sketches, hand them off to his associate, and then obsess night and day over the little obstacles that reality throws his way.

On the Web, I'm a Champ - The Phoenix, June 2006


Every once in a while I google myself for a reality check. It may come as a surprise to those who think they know me that in spite of my seemingly sedentary lifestyle, I've been rather busy.

While posing as a writer in Cambridge, MA, I've been sneaking in a feminist studies degree at University of California, Northridge. In fact, I was just at the "Locating Womern's Studies: Formations of Power and Resistance Conference," serving on a panel about linguistic gender binaries. While I'm not sure what a linguistic gender binary is, I seem to be doing well on the good friends front. One buddy glowingly referred to me as a Vagina Warrior on her myspace.com page-- apparently I convinced her that not all lesbians like to go whale watching. Major coup!

Some may think that I'm contradicting my ultra-feminist contention that the whims of fashion have intervened with nature by turning the feminine frame into a female skeleton, when I tell them that I rock on the balance beam (maybe that's not quite the verb my gymnast self would use). In any case, I'm a proud high school regional gymnastics champion in Southern California. Yes-- under these clothes hides a ninety pound gazelle.

Outside of the leotard, I just won an essay contest on Martin Luther King-- in the 7th grade category. You could say that I was cheating because I'm really in the 31st grade. Hey, call me a cynic, but these days all's fair, right Kaavya? Coming down from that high, I was completely floored when the University of Minnesota gave me a departmental scholarship in English when I wasn't even enrolled. This may or may not have had anything to do with my award-winning MLK essay. However, the scholarship came as terrific news because on my first go-around at college I didn't even get a measly cum laude.

Oh-- and if you missed the party, I passed the Alaska Bar on my first try, though as a public defender, I hang out with a rather creepy lot. Sometimes I wonder... is this what I slaved away in law school for? Great grandma Cohen (who just died last year, if you missed the announcement in the New York Times) would have been proud. She financed the whole enterprise, I think.

In spite of all this, I still have enough downtime to play the Brigadier General for the Kahanistan Imperial Marines on a simulation game website called "nationstates.net" where you can "build a nation and run it according to your own warped political ideals. Create a Utopian paradise for society's less fortunate or a totalitarian corporate police state. Care for your people or deliberately oppress them. Join the United Nations or remain a rogue state." I, Brigadier General Rachel Levitt, try to do the right thing, but I'm working for a bloodthirsty megalomaniac, so every day is an internal struggle.

From this disclosure, you can see why I haven't returned your phone calls, mom. Maybe when I get a break (sometime this summer?) I'll be sure to drop you a line. In the meantime, be proud of Rachel Levitt. On the web, she's a champ.