Interview with Hani Rashid, chairman of the jury for the International VELUX Award 2008

Publisher
Tisková zpráva
26.11.2008 00:05
Hani Rashid, born in Egypt, is the director of the New York-based company Asymptote Architecture. He has served as a professor at the most prestigious European and American universities. His work occupies a leading position in the field of technological innovations in architecture and design. Asymptote is currently working on a wide range of projects in the USA, the Netherlands, Hungary, the Czech Republic, and Mexico. Since 1989, Hani Rashid has served as an associate professor at the Department of Architecture at the Graduate School of Architecture of Columbia University.
How would you generally describe the quality of projects in this year's International VELUX Award competition?

I was surprised when I saw students from all over the world tackling the issue of light, the tremendous amount of work and its quality. The way they present their ideas on the theme "The Light of Tomorrow" is inspiring. Essentially, we had two types of authors in the competition. Some worked from the privilege of their student status, aware that they could develop new ideas beyond conventional architectural practice. Their thinking stayed outside established conventions; it was innovative and experimental. The second group were students with a sense of reality. Both of these groups participated in the competition, which I believe captures, to some extent, the spirit of education in schools. And it is very encouraging to see how students are continually progressing.

Do you think we have gone through a worse, less fruitful period in the past?
Since the nineties, there has been terrible confusion, which may have arisen from the fact that computers had "matured" and students had to face a situation where global and local aspects stand against each other. Both the globalization of ideas and theories as well as computers have created a moment of uncertainty. Today, in this competition, we are starting to see interesting maturation on both fronts. Students show that they are capable of understanding the nuances of the global and local approaches to places and cultures in architecture, and additionally, computers are no longer just something extraordinary where you just press keys and create nice shapes, but they are finally becoming a medium, a realistic and understandable tool for research work.

How would you describe the winning projects?
I am very pleased with the winners, as they represent three different directions of the overall concept of the competition. Overall, practical, visionary, and poetic approaches were recognized, which summarize what all the students dealt with in their projects. And what I find amazing about such competitions is that we can access the spirit of the time we live in without any barriers.

Do you think there is a connection between the geographical origin of participants and their approach to light?
What is unique about this competition, in my opinion, is that it hits the nail right on the head: architects from all parts of the world are interested in light. Light is a metaphysical tool, a tool for expression; it represents a way of understanding form and time. Right now, I am working on a project in Abu Dhabi, where we are intensely interested in the quality of light in the desert. There, light refracts, especially during sandstorms. When you study light, you are actually exploring the cultural DNA of a specific place, which is something fascinating. When you try to use light as a source of inspiration, you find very deep and complex possibilities. Interestingly, there is currently a shift in education: the global situation is starting to permeate architectural schools that otherwise were not very interested in discussions in the West. And it is good that these discussions are opening up to others, leading to an increase in global understanding. If we had a psychologist or a social scientist on the jury, we would see smaller shifts in how different cultures think about light. We, as a jury, were interested in architects using light as a tool regardless of where they come from.

This competition differs from others because teachers are involved. What do you think is the outcome of this approach?
I often feel that I teach best when I show my students how to learn for themselves, not just how to do various things. If you manage to teach someone how to ask the right question, your teaching is on the right track. Interestingly, there is a very thin line between the autonomy of the student and the influence of the teacher. When you look back at this whole process, and I mean almost literally when you walk through the individual rooms and look at nearly seven hundred projects, you can tell when students listened to their teachers and tried different approaches and when they did exactly what their teachers told them. If you have a good teacher who taught students to ask the right questions, then the students are capable of creating works that move between autonomy and authorship. The fundamental discussion based on collaboration with the teacher is very beneficial and important. It teaches students to have a sufficient degree of self-criticism so that they can create works that the jury will really appreciate. And the jury is essentially a group of people who practice or teach architecture.

What would you advise future participants in the competition?
My advice is still the same. Winning a competition has two sides; on the one hand, if you are not careful and do not listen to others' advice, it can lead to a quick fall. Winning does not mean you are the best; it means that at that moment, you succeeded in something. But you have to ask yourself how to continue so that it remains this way? Likewise, winning in a competition confirms that you have managed to overcome a certain obstacle and you must understand what that means. My basic advice is: do not forget that in our field, in architecture, patience is a great virtue; you have to be prepared for the long term. When I first read Louis Kahn, who claimed that an architect does not build until he is fifty years old, I thought he had gone crazy. Now, as I approach that age, I begin to realize that with gray hair comes experience, even though in your mind you are still young and vital, active and energetic. And at that stage, clients start to listen to you, to ask you to break the rules, but with the patina of experience.
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