Yesterday, I retweeted an article from Architectural Record about two architects talking candidly "about how they turned their business around even before the recession." Not surprisingly, it was retweeted by lots of my architect friends.

Cindy Frewen-Wuellner (aka @Urbanverse) commented:

That made me think about my own experience. This is my fifth recession in architecture. Yes, I know that I don't look old enough, but I've been working in architecture for 40 years.

Here's my story:

I have a degree in English as a language, preparatory for teaching elementary school. Our family business was home building, and after a career working as a professional executive with the Boy Scouts of America, my father returned to the construction industry. (He invented computerized specifications in the mid-1960s and became a Fellow of the Construction Specifications Institute.) I had always loved architecture and design, and when I decided not to teach, I was lucky enough to get my first job in the Joint Venture Office of the Architects for the Bank of America World Headquarters Building in San Francisco. (And yes, that was the name on our letterhead.)

The JV partners were Skidmore, Owings & Merrill (SOM) and Wurster, Bernardi + Emmons (WB+E), with Pietro Belluschi as Consulting Architect. For those who aren't familiar with WB+E, William Wurster had been the Dean of the School of Environmental Design at the University of California, Berkeley; the architecture school is in Wurster Hall. 

Recession and Recovery #1:

When I joined the JV, there were 50 people working in an office in the bank tower. The branch bank was under construction, but most of the staff were involved in designing the interiors for the tower and branch. It was a great group, and as an entry point to the world of architecture, it couldn't have been better. But all good things come to an end, and as the project reached completion, people returned to their "homes" at one of the JV partner firms, leaving just the Project Coordinator and me to close everything down.

Tally for first job: from 50 people to 0 in one year.

I was an employee of WB+E, and they graciously allowed me to come to work in the main office. By 1970, they had reached the height of their practice expansion, with 116 people. The firm was known for residential work, based primarily on Mr. Wurster's prominence and relationships. They had just finished the conversion of Ghirardelli Square, a pioneer in the "festive retail" movement. But it wasn't easy for the younger partners to get work, and they were trying to expand into government and healthcare. HUD embarked on a major housing program, and WB+E got one of the projects. They went after lots of healthcare projects, but could never win a commission.

My first week in the office, I was assigned to a business development effort for the Charles Drew Medical Center in Los Angeles CA, which had a major historical connection to the Watts Riots of 1965. The architect in charge asked me about my background, and when I told him that I had been an English major, he asked me to write the proposal section on methodology. Since I hadn't a clue what he was talking about, I suggested that I read through everything they had written and take it from there. 48 hours later, after my first charrette, I had edited and produced my first proposal. Unfortunately, we didn't get the project. 

The economy began to decline, the partners' relationships weren't leading to new work, and the firm wasn't very successful in business development. The firm began to shrink. I remember the day when the leasing company came to pick up the partners' cars.

Tally for second job: from 116 to 30 people in two years.

I saw the writing on the wall, and in 1972, when my counterpart at SOM told me that she was leaving, I interviewed and became the Administrative Manager there. This was the heyday of SOM/SF, when Chuck Bassett and Marc Goldstein were designing major buildings; John Kriken and Jerry Goldberg were creating a new Urban Design and Planning studio; Margo Grant andCharles Pfister were defining what would become known as "architectural interiors." Nat Owings had officially retired, but he was writing his autobiography, and he still came into the office; and John Merrill, Jr., was the Managing Partner.

SOM was a huge, sophisticated firm, with more than 250 people in the SF office. My boss, Armand Casini, was the Head of Production, and I got involved with project scheduling and cost control, as well as personnel management. Cass was the window-wall expert, and he loved the craft of architecture. He took the time to explain why certain details worked or didn't, and he took me along on inspections of things like weld-slag damage, so needless to say, I learned a lot.

I've always said that I succeeded in architecture because I could read and write, and SOM put that to the test. I began editing in earnest, working with partners on proposals and with planners on reports, making sure that we hired really good administrative people who could support all of those efforts. I also got to work with Nat Owings, who liked me because my father had worked for the Boy Scouts. (Nat told me that he became an architect because he was so inspired by the Cathedral at Chartres when he went to France for a Boy Scout Jamboree.)

The economy was improving, and SOM was booming. By my second year with the firm, they had hired an extra 50 people for the Arya Mehr Sports Complex project in Tehran (for the 1974 Asian Games), but a year later, the project was completed, and the staff were "released."

Tally: from 300 people to 250 in one year.

Total Staff Changes in Recession and Recovery #1 1969-1974:
Total in 3 Offices (Beginning): 50+116+300 = 466
Total in 3 Offices (End): 0+30+250 = 280

I truly believe that I got the equivalent of an MBA in architectural firm management at SOM. It was an amazing experience, and I wouldn't have missed it for the world. But opportunity came knocking. Stay tuned for Episode #2 - the 1974 recession.

For the next episode of My Recession Stories, please click here.