buildings & grounds

By David Dudley      

AAP Dean Mohsen Mostafavi on the         Milstein Hall design controversy, the college's future, and the mixed blessing of having an alumni body where, when it comes to architecture,                               everyone's a critic

architecture, Art, and Planning may be Cornell's smallest college, but it's been big news in the past few years--some of it controversial. In the summer of 2002, Day Hall announced that the University intended to move AAP's three constituent disciplines into other colleges. The notion of dismantling AAP had been floated before, but this was a more serious threat, and it met with fierce resistance from AAP faculty, students, and alumni. After a tense autumn filled with negotiations over finances, administrative structure, and academic issues, Day Hall eventually shelved the plan, and a search for a new dean to lead the college began.

The all-too-public embodiment of AAP's internal and external woes of late has been Milstein Hall, the still-unbuilt new home for the Department of Architecture. Initially funded in 1999 by a $10 million gift in honor of New York developer Paul Milstein, the building has had three very different designs--and still remains on the drawing board. Steven Holl '77 wowed design competition judges with his winning 2001 proposal, an audacious seven-story glass-faced cube, but some faculty and alumni were less enthused, and negotiations with the architect over proposed changes broke down. Next up was the German firm of Barkow Leibinger, which delivered a long and low structure tucked behind Sibley Hall. This second, more unassuming Milstein also received mixed reviews, and the plan was in revision when AAP's new dean,Mohsen Mostafavi, arrived on the Hill in 2004.

the Iranian-born Mostafavi came to Ithaca after a lengthy tenure at the helm of London's prestigious Architectural Association School of Architecture, or AA. The son of a textile engineer, Mostafavi spent part of his youth in England and received his own architectural training at AA; he was also the director of Harvard's graduate program in architecture. A thoughtful man with a courtly British accent and dry, understated manner,Mostafavi quickly focused on re-energizing the moribund Milstein project. Out went the Barkow Leibinger plan and in came the Office of Metropolitan Architecture (OMA), the firm headed by Dutch "starchitect" Rem Koolhaas, who studied briefly at Cornell in the early 1970s.

Now budgeted somewhere north of $40 million, Milstein Mark Three is an entirely different project, a floating box grafted on to Sibley and to a renovated Rand Hall, the venerable studio building slated to be razed in previous plans. For Mostafavi, the new building will serve as a literal, physical connection among his college's three departments; a bigger task, however, will be reinforcing the less tangible linkages among architecture, art, and planning.

During the spring semester, Mostafavi sat down with CAM to talk about the building, the college, and AAP's role on the world stage.

Based on the response to the three Paul Milstein Hall designs, AAP seems to be blessed with alumni who are passionate about the school. Is that something of a double-edged sword?

It's important that we have alumni who are engaged. It's clear to me that it's precisely those alumni who were instrumental in supporting the college--and, some would say, saving the college-- during those dark days a few years ago. It's also important to have projects that elicit a response. There can be such a thing as too much consensus.When you start undermining or tarnishing some of the significant qualities of the project in the name of appeasing various constituencies, you've got something that isn't the architect's design--it's designed by committee.We've tried to listen carefully not only to the alumni but also to students and faculty and staff, and then find ways of responding without turning the project into something else. A good part of this process is explaining and communicating our intentions. I hope we're able to make people see why the project is the way it is. Because you're in the field of architecture, all of your alumni--every single one of them--is potentially a critic.

There’s a saying that the most brutal art critics are other artists.

Absolutely. But critics can also be great supporters. There will always be people who disagree, and some of them strongly, but I'd say that 99 percent seem to be extremely excited by the fact that we have a significant project done by a major international firm and that this project brings an example of extraordinary architecture to the Cornell campus.

What have you learned from the previous designs?

I think the greatest lesson is that, for these projects, you need to have someone who will want to get it done and will accept responsibility for making it happen. You need to have a clear process: what's the role of the faculty and students, alumni, the University, and how do we negotiate all of those things? If you treat these as separate entities rather than part of a much larger process, it's easy for things to fall apart. There were some basic disagreements between various parties with regard to the first design project. So we're being as transparent as we can.We've brought the architects here and asked them to make several varying public presentations. Those things are important, especially when you have a high-profile project. Of course, all of this would mean very little if it wasn't for the incredible generosity and dedication of the Milstein family. In particular, Howard [Milstein '73] has been wonderful to work with. I've really appreciated his guidance throughout the process.

How useful was it for you, as dean, to be someone who didn't have a history with Cornell, in terms of being able to start the Milstein project over from square one?

It's good to come in and see things afresh. Architectural projects, when they drag on, lose some of their energy. It's like a theatrical performance--if you spend four years rehearsing, it's difficult to have a sense of occasion on opening night. There's a fine balance between preparation and delivery. Also, seeing Cornell as an outsider makes one see what people on the outside would notice.

Such as?

My worry is that the isolation can give some of us a false sense of security. Here we are in this wonderful remote location, an Ivy League university, and we can pat ourselves on the back because of our great success. I think that the reality of urban situations, where the competition and the everyday reality and hardship are a little more physical, is maybe not a bad thing--especially in this field.We're not doing theoretical physics here; we're dealing with subjects that are deeply rooted in the world. Art, architecture, and planning are three disciplines that involve incredible degrees of socialization and engagement with the everyday.

Was that a priority for you--to make the school look outward?

Yes--to have a school that's a player internationally, to have faculty and students engaged in global issues. That's why our Cornell in Rome program has been a significant operation for us, and that's why we started a program this year in New York City. In addition, we've increased our international programs. Just this semester we have students who are in Nairobi, Buenos Aires, Madrid, Puerto Rico, Lisbon, and Mexico City.We want students who are more international, in terms of their outlook and aspirations. It's important for us to be influential, but it's just as important for us to be influenced.

Your own background reflects a wide range of experience: you were born in Iran and grew up, in part, in England.What drew you to architecture?

Growing up in Iran in the Sixties, architecture was one of the hip things to do at the time. A lot of the architects had been educated in Italy, and they always seemed to be interesting characters. Architecture seemed cool, exciting.

What were your early influences?

One was a beautiful house in Paris by Pierre Chareau called Maison de Verre, or House of Glass. The intriguing thing was, when they were going to build it, they had to demolish an existing structure. But they had a sitting tenant that they couldn't get rid of, so they decided to keep the top floor apartment. They demolished everything underneath, and the house is an insertion. It's a very modern house, with an old apartment above.

That sounds a bit like the Milstein design--you're incorporating a new building into the older ones.

It's the idea of architecture as cabinetry. It's interesting to try to create something to fit into an existing frame.

Is there a specific area in which you would like AAP to be stronger than it has been in the past?

I would like us to be known as an important intellectual center for the production of contemporary art. One of the challenges is that we have had a slightly more traditional art department, and I would like us to be known as an important center for new media.We also have to understand that we're not an independent art school; we're an art school within the context of a research university.We're keen to work with art history, with Lit Crit, with Africana, with areas that bring a different sense of intellectual discussion. We're trying to develop a culture within the college that encourages people to be visionary, utopian, and optimistic in terms of how they can transform current practice.

Is it a challenge that architecture, art, and planning are yoked together here?

There's clear affinity between architecture and planning, and between art and architecture. Architecture is the common link. The presence of the art department is an incredible advantage for architecture and vice versa. It's also true that architecture has interesting affinities in engineering, and in computer science, as does art. Other affinities might exist with landscape architecture, theater studies, even music. Sometimes the people who are the most interesting thinkers in the world don't fall into this category of departments. They're doing things that are in between.

When you considered coming here, you knew about the realignment crisis the college had undergone in 2002. Did that concern you?

It was clear that the University administration was looking for strong leadership, strong direction--whoever was going to be doing this job had to have the capacity and the interest to make things happen as a college, across the departments. The administration was saying, "Let's move forward; this is behind us." Now, I know that there were faculty and alumni who were suspicious of that. The wounds were still raw.

Was it important on a symbolic level not only to get the Milstein project rolling again, but to engage someone like Rem Koolhaas,who is an international name?

It was a priority to get the right building by the right architectural firm. It was important to work with someone who understood the program, who would be open to alternative ways to use space. Beyond these things, there's also something important in terms of, what message does Cornell send out to the wider world? We should use architecture and space as our mechanism of communicating how strongly we feel about the environment and its impact on thinking and work. For instance, as a university we should have thought about Collegetown a long time ago.How are our students engaging with the environment of Collegetown? Should we be building housing there? Why are we building graduate housing out by East Hill Plaza?

How much say do you have in terms of these big-picture planning issues?

Well, we can say a lot, but the impact we can have is a different thing. I sit on the buildings and properties committee, and all the building projects that are done for Cornell come before this committee, from the master plan to a little day-care center. I also have a role on the architectural advisory committee. It's slightly clichéd, but one of the things that I've been saying is that we as a university need to think about the way we're producing new forms of social space. Our conversation could have taken place in a café. But today, you and I would have had a horrible time trying to find somewhere both of us would have enjoyed sitting and having a cup of tea.

That's such a big issue, especially in designing workspaces. Everyone is looking for places where you can have accidental interactions.

Exactly. How do we bring about interesting social spaces? They're not a requirement for research, but they become the life of the university.

Contributing editor DAVID DUDLEY was a member of the CAM staff for four years and is now associate editor of Johns Hopkins Public Health magazine.