Going global: architects look beyond U.S. borders for design and business challenges

Residential Architect, Sept-Oct, 2004 by Cheryl Weber

Hugh Newell Jacobsen, FAIA, has designed buildings in nine countries, but the most memorable, by far, was a library in Egypt that took 11 years to finish. Its progress, and the lack of it, coincided with the political upheavals of the late 1970s and early '80s, and the assassination of Egyptian president Anwar al-Sadat. In 1979, when the building's second floor was going up, it was firebombed and burned to the ground. "We had put up a sign saying that this library was a gift to the youth of Egypt from the people of the U.S., and signed AID [U.S. Agency for International Development]," says Jacobsen, of Washington, D.C. "They read it as CIA, and we had six firebombs the next day. So we didn't put up any more signs."

By contrast, his subsequent projects have unfolded in such picturesque destinations as Greece, Italy, the Dominican Republic, and the South of France. Perhaps that's why he's so sanguine about working overseas. "It's surprisingly easy, because the language of architecture is drawing. You're talking about three things--gravity, water, and money--and it's all totally understandable with a pencil," says Jacobsen, whose gift for abstracting architectural forms crosses over to topics of conversation.

Doing architecture abroad raises many issues, though, only one of which is the spoken language. Will the architectural terms translate? How about the building technology? Local builders often use a completely different set of materials and construction techniques, and you don't want them learning something new on your project. For that matter, where will you find a reputable contractor? And how do you safeguard the design when you're 4,000 miles from a construction site? Most important, how will you arrive at a fee that covers all the logistical uncertainties of working in a different culture?

Working globally is certainly easier than it used to be, and some architects are undaunted by long-distance deals. "I found working in Barbados far easier than building in Georgetown [D.C.]," Jacobsen says. "When you're nearby, you've laid out the building and the contractor isn't responsible. But when you're abroad, they work around problems until you get there." To find local builders he can count on, Jacobsen gets a short list from in-country colleagues and calls building suppliers to find out whether the contractors have paid their bills. "It's a marvelous international fraternity we have," he says.

local conditions

When it comes to professional contacts, popular vacation destinations may be the easiest places in which to build, because contractors come recommended by Americans who've spent time there. Architects working in the classic south-of-the-border hot spots, in particular, revel in the rich local materials and plentiful supply of gifted craftspeople. That was the case when Leddy Maytum Stacy Architects, San Francisco, was asked to design a house near the tip of the Baja Peninsula, an hour north of Cabo San Lucas. Because of the community's small size and the fair amount of construction under way in that part of Baja, connections were made by word of mouth.

The firm's portfolio includes commercial projects, so it knew how to bring out the best qualities of concrete--a construction staple in Mexico. "The builders did beautiful work on an exposed exterior concrete stair, and on thin concrete shelves for storage on the interior," says Marsha Maytum, FAIA. "It's very difficult to find craftsmen up here in California who can do that so easily." Because material selection was limited on Baja, the design team traveled to Guadalajara for tile and stone, and commissioned custom-made tables, sofas, and chairs, abstractions of traditional Mexican furniture. San Diego was a convenient source for super-energy-efficient lighting fixtures, which were crucial since the building was off the power grid and relied on photovoltaic arrays to generate electricity.

During the nine months of construction, "just keeping track of the contractor was the hardest part, making sure he was following through," Maytum says. The design team flew down after each phase was completed. Toward the end of the project, when they ran into difficulties with the contractor, one of the clients--Maytum's good friend and former college roommate--stepped in to make sure the design intent was being followed. It helped too that one of the firm's senior associates, a native of Mexico City, could translate the language and the business culture.

Indeed, when it's time to get a project built, a country's cultural traditions are just as important to keep in mind as its construction methods. Steven and Cathi House, House House Architects, also in San Francisco, built two homes for themselves in Mexico before taking on client commissions and are now working on their sixth house there, in addition to an ongoing resort project in Honduras. With their interest in highly crafted materials, saturated colors, and bold, abstract forms, Mexico's aesthetic landscape is a natural fit. But there were other cultural hurdles to clear.