contributed by Angela Sanders [aspiring architect / fashionista / cultural commentator]
Being accepted to Harvard for an introductory architecture program, even if only for a summer, carries a weight that could sink the Titanic again. People “oooh” and “aaah” as if you are not actually intelligent. And then there’s my life, where people almost insultingly repeat the same inquiry. “YOU got into Harvard”” Then of course, I go into my mental vault of TV and movie quotes and channel Elle Woods: “What, like it’s hard””
I was more than excited to go; however, truth be told, I preferred Columbia. Yet, how many times should one turn down Harvard” Exactly my point, so I was on the next bird sailing to Logan airport.
The architecture program of Harvard’s Career Discovery was an intensely rigorous experience where I lost my inner Elle Woods and felt I had more in common with Dorothy of Kansas, searching for that elusive Wizard. I thought the Wizard held the key to all of my deep interests in architecture, but we all know the Wizard was too short to reach a doorknob to insert a key. I had the key all along, but I had to go through Harvard to get it.
The entire program is six weeks long, with daily lectures Monday through Thursday, and Friday open for studio work or crits, depending on the timeline. An introductory supply kit was given to each student, complete with the coveted T-square. The first lecturers were guest faculty and local alumni. The drawing lectures and computer workshops were conducted by student teachers. Actually, the morning lectures were the only events of the program – except for the introduction of the biweekly projects – that weren’t conducted by Harvard students.
Per the staff, approximately 500 applications were sent and 300 accepted. The groups were split into architecture, landscape architecture, and urban planning, then dissected again into small groups, each led by a student. The comfort was having an instructor near our age who would probably still recall the days as a fledgling and maybe harbor a form of understanding. My drawing and computer workshop instructors were perfect personifications of said understanding.
The projects were assigned via mass lecture by the director of the program. Her explanations were clear, with heavy examples meant to stir the imagination. Then we were dismissed to our respective instructors for further information. The calendar of the program stated the hours were from 9:00a–6:00p. Personally, I spent almost every day and night at school. I left for breaks, but I returned for another stretch and ultimately would leave at 11 in the evening to cross town to my apartment, where I crashed from creative exhaustion.
The best part of the program was the window into the life of a graduate student in design school. Harvard boasts the only American building of Le Corbusier, a faculty that includes Rem Koolhaas, and a great respect for the Yokohama Terminal. Actually, somehow, every project used identical or varying versions of those three. It was almost like being stuck in Groundhog Day. I’d wake up, go to school, and someone, somewhere on staff would mention one of the three. Mostly Rem, or was that Corbu” Wait, no it was the Yokohama. Songs in the Key of Rem were sung by all. Seriously, it was like being surrounded by Rem-lytes.
Crits are critiques to serve the purpose of presenting your project to a jury. Our jury comprised a professional and several current graduate students, all writhing to rip each one of us apart. I cried after one crit. (Most hurtful was hearing her tell the judges to be really hard on us so we would “understand.” Maybe she thought we were pledges. Not really sure.) Admittedly, I was unprepared and had no idea what to do, and I had a student studio instructor with absolutely no teaching or people skills whose direction was slight.
Week three, I contemplated leaving entirely due to massive levels of frustration and confusion. You see, she would tell us to think, but not think, so we could create. We were given vague instructions, and inquiries were met with the smug “Welcome to Design School” retort. (Why would I be confused”) My favorite was, “That looks like a building.” Okay, so what was it supposed to look like” I even tried the non-building route, only to find that I had difficulty drawing it and humans didn’t really have a chance to inhabit it without a map and wings because you’d have to be able to fly to explore it. (She liked that one.)
My frustration was increasing so rapidly that I spoke with the coordinator of the program. I was informed of my option to report her to the director. With my certificate in mind, I chose to forgo my meeting with the director. I did recall the first days of the program when I got the feeling that I wanted a different instructor. (Always go with your first mind.) Instead, I decided to speak with my instructor, but I was advised not to worry about being confused and lost. Great advice. The tête-à-tête was so enlightening that I decided to approach my other instructors for further inspiration to prevent further stagnation. This produced progress on my last project, once I followed the advice of others in the group to simply ignore the instructor.
In my last crit, I compared, unsuccessfully, my project to the Centre Pompidou of Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano genius. I even stated such in my introduction. The Rem-lyte judges each managed to sing in the Key of Rem. Intentionally stepping off the beaten-to-death path, I was still forced back to the Rem Life. Not one note mattered. I’d beaten the frustration, drawn my sections (okay, maybe I cheated with AutoCAD) and talked somewhat slower. Now I’m all Elle Woods again. Cute skirt included.
I got my certificate during commencement (no caps and gowns included nor required).
The entire experience was not exactly golden. The instructor gave me my first substandard report (except for college chemistry, and that doesn’t really count). Contradictory” I think so. How can you have good ideas and concise output, yet lack clarity” She was probably thinking, but NOT when she wrote that.
Maybe it more like a bronze summer. Not only did I find that the more I failed and pushed on, the more I asked questions regarding the design industry. I loved the lectures, drawing and professional contact. The computer workshop was informative. Studio proved the most challenging on a mental level. To compare my London short course with this one produces a criticism in studio direction. My Harvard studio instructor could not teach a class on blinking. (Sorry, still a little upset over the report.)
The moral of my summer expanded my view on design and formed another batch of questions. Why are engineering, construction, interior design, and architecture treated as separate when they are necessary, and quite dependent on one another” Where would I find a program to expose me to all four” Why attend architectural school if it is nothing like the profession” Questions aside, my ultimate discovery was an obvious need to gain experience through employment before approaching graduate study. Now where to get that job”…
