Sylvia Lavin, chair of UCLA’s Department of Architecture
and Urban Design, introduced architect Frank Gehry as a “true
celebrity. We know “¦ his biography, his books, buildings, his
life … Frank, in my opinion, is a young architect “¦ because
he takes risks that experimentation entails.”
After the celebratory speech, 73-year-old Gehry’s first
words after awkwardly climbing the stage to the podium in
Schoenberg Hall Monday night were, “If I’m so young,
how come I couldn’t walk up these steps?”
It wasn’t so much an insult as it was a jab at the
hyperbole balloon. With someone as distinguished as Gehry,
it’s easy to dehumanize him into a superhero artist. On the
other hand, Gehry wants everyone to know he’s good people.
When he talked about the tiddly lights (lights lining the sides of
the pier) that he designed for the Santa Monica Pier, Gehry had no
intention of boring the audience with grand artistic visions.
“I was pretty hokey,” Gehry said about the lights.
“I just wanted you to know that.”
Self-conscious of his works that have been published “ad
nauseum” (in his words), Gehry demonstrated his all-too-human
self with a slide show of works from his earlier years, before the
Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain and the Walt Disney Concert Hall
but after his bar mitzvah. The talk was meant for young architects
in the room who could learn from Gehry’s early struggles and
their evolution into the style he is known for today.
“Old people should leave,” Gehry warned.
The slides Gehry showed spanned his beginnings in 1959, only a
few years after he graduated from Harvard, to the present day. Many
of his projects were commercial works, such as apartment complexes,
jewelry stores, UCLA’s Placement Center and even Euro Disney.
According to Gehry, architecture built around Mickey Mouse statues
is not the ideal environment for art.
Gehry’s advice for young architects did not fall on deaf
ears. Before the talk, younger audience members could be seen
scribbling down their latest sketches, as if the mere presence of
Gehry in the room was enough to inspire. A great many more people
were turned away as the small auditorium filled to the brim. The
audience was generally in awe, especially when Gehry noted that a
certain building had been torn down or a building’s design
had been compromised by budget problems or artistic differences.
These instances elicited a collective gasp. How could someone do
that to the beloved architect?
But, as Gehry reminded us, he was not always famous and in
demand. In fact, he’s the first to point out that certain
designs were bad or derivative. Once, he thanked God a design never
became a reality. Regarding another slide, he said,
“I’ll be damned if I know where this is.” The
Aerospace Museum in Los Angeles he designed leaked.
“When you’re starting out, your buildings
leak,” Gehry said matter-of-factly.
Not one to be pretentious, Gehry emphasized the whimsical
aspects of his works, especially the fish and snake fetishes he
incorporated into his designs.
“I got into a lot of fishy stuff,” Gehry said.
Later he had a chain-link fence fetish. He sculpted fences,
generally thought ugly, around building exteriors to beautify the
material. Gehry has also worked with cardboard, making chairs for
Bloomingdale’s and an entire cardboard room for a show.
Gehry even went so far as to deflate his most famous work to
date, the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain. It got commissioned
because the Basque Country Administration thought impressive
architecture could lure the shipping industry away from competitors
in Barcelona and Madrid.
“It was about commerce,” Gehry said. “It
wasn’t about art “¦ When it was finished, I hated it. I
always do that.”
As Gehry’s chronological narrative of works progressed,
more aspects of the Bilbao’s design emerged, including the
idea of a single building composed of separate pieces, like a bowl
of fruit in a still life painting; the use of curved materials; and
a fascination with bent stainless steel.
There were several running jokes during the presentation,
including a hungry woman who told Gehry to hurry up:
“There’s a story behind (this building), but
it would take hours and the lady wants to eat.” Gehry also
not-so-subtly hinted at selling the audience his works:
“I’ve got one kid left to put through
college.”
Gehry’s hokeyness gives hope to those who still believe
art can be unpretentious fun.