Anda French

What does design mean for you?

I'm trained as an architect. When I started out—I was actually getting my graduate degree at Princeton—, my initial interest (and direction that I thought I was going in) when I was studying architecture was more in the direction of where things like graphic design and other parts of industrial design might meet architecture. I was really excited that maybe I could exist on the fringe. For me, design is, in terms of our practice now, any act of creating an interface either between people or between people and objects and the intention to either produce effect or elicit a response, whether it's emotional or physical or formal, from putting that object, that graphic, that building out into the world. That's sort of what I've abstracted it to. If you had asked me this 20 years ago, I don't think I would have said the same thing, but for me it really is an intermediary, connecting people to other people and objects in the world.

Has your definition of design changed from when you were a student, to when you began your practice, to today? What kind of differences do you see in your approach to design or the way you think about it?

When I started out in my career, even the atmosphere of design was more siloed. There were a few firms that were trying to bridge environmental design and all the other arts in collaborative ways—IDEO, 2x4, etc.— perhaps I was looking for something closer to the Secessionists*. This was appealing but there were not as many opportunities to remain centered in architecture and do this work.

It took, I think, having another person to say—the two of us to both say—that we're both trained as architects but it's ok if architecture is also a teapot. It is really about confidence and bringing our own viewpoint to any work that we do, and in many ways, that's letting the work lead us from project to project. We aren't going out into the world saying, 'I'm going to design a tablecloth'—that was never our intention—but as we were working with, say the co-housing group, we realized that there were ways in which people engaged with each other, and we can start to design micro architectures that might be made out of a tablecloth. That's the extent of what our architectural practice really could be and we are always interested in ways it can be expanded.

*people who were a part of the Successionist Movement, which is explained here at this link that Anda French shared (https://www.rem.routledge.com/articles/secessionist-movement)

Is there a common theme that you keep in mind when you are designing?

I think there are two answers.

One is that there's a formal common theme; the way that we approach things often has to do with taking a typology or tropes or things that are known ideas—like what a house looks like—and we use that as a building block that we abstract, and that might also then become, in the world, a teapot that is teapot-like, and we play against what we expect it to be. That is a formal theme that comes out.

But I think a larger theme is that no matter what we are designing or working on, we really try to figure out how to engage people in ways that help them be vulnerable to the process, to not know what to expect, and so people might connect with each other because you're creating that experience at the time as you go.

How do you think about and find vulnerability in your designs?

The first time we talked about that was when we designed this installation at the Boston City Hall Plaza, called 'Place/Setting'. For us, we were trying to bring together people that we knew really well and people that we didn't know that were working on similar ideas. We started to think, 'how do we get people to really talk to each other in this space? This space alone isn't going to do it. It's going to be the format and the way that we are able to throw people off a little bit.' Kind of like going to a space that you've never been before and bonding with the people in line because you're all trying to figure out what is going on together—that is how we started to think about vulnerability, in some simplest terms.

Is there something that you really value when you are designing? Any core values?

In the context of where the discipline of architecture has been and what the conversations have been, there has been a debate about whether architecture is an autonomous art—something that we put out in the world and we only talk about in the context of itself, talking about form, beauty, and all of these things. There are also conversations and schools of thought that say, 'no, architecture is truly social'—it is just about serving the needs of the participants or the user groups. Then, there is a third that says 'no, it can be both', and that attention to form and the way that it might help us understand or experience the world differently and connect to each other is inherently social and there is a great deal of responsibility because of that. That is a really important core value in the way that we operate because two things are actually linked, whether you intend to—and of course, we are in the context of, there are a lot of unintended consequences of architectural work and design that have historically caused huge problems and have actually been part of increasing inequities—so being really aware of that and talking about how we view those things and how we can act more deliberately is part of the core value of our work.

I was intrigued by the variety of things that you do, from architecture to 3D teapots to installations and more. Is the approach that you take to all of these projects different for each, or do you take a similar design approach to all of these projects?

The actual working method is usually the same, and that has a lot to do with the fact that my sister is my business partner. We have a very shorthand way of talking and thinking, and when we start on any project no matter the scale, the format, the media, we start out by drawing on analogous references. They don't always have to be direct references. We think about, 'what are the larger qualities that we are interested in?'. We start crowd-sourcing that as a collective of two, we come together, we sketch, and we talk through the process. When you get to things like the teapot or the co-housing building, they are really developed in similar ways because of that—because it's just our shorthand, being able to talk across the work.

Where do you find inspiration for your work?

It's definitely people. Also, analogous references—things that are in our history.

I know it sounds a bit silly, but we both have been profoundly affected by the Muppets—I don't know why—but there is a kind of strangeness to it. It's surreal but also grounded in the real world, and we talk about the exaggerated features. That has worked its way into some of the architectural and textile projects. I think inspiration for us is horizontal references that we pull together, that help us pull on the contextual core for our project. We're not discerning, we're not too highbrow, we're not too lowbrow. Whatever connections we make, we let them in and we don't judge them.

How did you come to find your personal art style?

I think there was one painting I did. I started, I was making sketchbooks for something that I wanted to submit to this program, that I didn't end up getting into actually... it was years ago. But I was making these sketchbooks and I was trying to fill them up really quickly. And I was doing it outside. And then I started to draw around loads of like shadow shapes, there were loads of plants... I'd start to draw around them. So that was the start of everything. So they got really into these like, kind of intricate but slightly distorted organic forms by drawing around the shadows and painting them. And then I did one little circular panel, where I overlapped them, and then I painted a face within it. And I think as soon as I did that one, I was like, Oh, this is how I want to paint. And then that must have been like maybe two years ago that that first happened, that like overlapping forms and faces. And then I've just been like trying to keep doing that and trying that technique. I've been trying loads of new stuff recently. And it's all been going disastrously... But I think that experimenting... sometimes you're like, Wow, it's amazing. And sometimes it's not working. And because I think I'm just always trying to find ways to like, make those two things exist, I'm working with lots of thin layers. I don't know sometimes I'm like, I feel like I'm over complicating it, but it is complicated with all the layers.

Is there a clear line between how you approach design just out of your curiosity and as your practice? Or do you think they connect, and if so, where do they connect?

I joke often, with my husband, that I don't have any hobbies—and my sister is the same way—because in our spare time, the things that we do are probably part of, or analogous to, our practice.

They definitely connect. It's inevitable because when your family member is your business partner, all of a sudden everything is allowed. There are no real boundaries in terms of how we work, when we work, things like maternity leave, we just cover for each other—I have two kids, my sister has one right now. You would think that the shift in our lives would start to bifurcate the design work, that we would keep the business on one side, but I think in many ways we've been able to evolve our work. In particular, the co-housing work was enriched by the fact that we had our own domestic lives that always spilled into our work lives, and in many ways, that's the kind of ethos of co-housing—that everyone is weaving all the parts of their lives together and coexist and how you can provide support to each other because of that. I don't know if we would be able to do it, or be as empathetic, if we weren't going through similar kinds of moments in our own lives.

How do you explore and work with new designs, or work outside of your comfort zone?

A big part of that, at least in a general level, is staying close to academia. We both have taught for a long time. The discourse we have with colleagues and with architecture students, and the ways in which we create a syllabus or larger idea help us pursue our personal interests. To teach what you want to know or what you know already, you have to think through both recursive and experimental practice.

When you're in college or when you're in grad school, it's a real luxury to be surrounded by people that are equally excited about new ideas as you are and want to talk about it. That doesn't exist as much once you get out into the working world—there is a different set of priorities in the working world. Being able to stay close to academia and that kind of energy has very much helped us continue to not just get stuck in our ways with the work that we are doing. Not that you have to do that! There can also be people who create smaller collectives once a month to talk about new ideas or start re-updating your interests and conversations.

Is that where academia comes in to design for you?

Yes. It's kind of funny—if you can't explain something simply to someone else, then you yourself don't understand it. There's this moment where students sometimes laugh since there is a sentence that lasts three paragraphs and has ten words that you need to look up. You realize that if someone can't say that same thing in one sentence in simple words, then they don't really know what they are saying. I love that idea that you actually have to test yourself to explain to someone what you mean when you're teaching and when you're working in design studios.

Is articulating or verbalizing your design something that you really value and something that you have worked on?

We very much work on being able to verbalize what it is that we are doing. Twenty years ago, when I was a grad student, that didn't come easily—that is only through practice and having to talk to many different audiences and explain what you are showing them. I think through practice it has become very easy, but it was not easy at first. Teaching is a way that I find it really important to be able to tell someone what I think I am making. Part of being able to articulate is to get people onboard with what you are doing.

This interview assignment was based on reaching out and interviewing someone who is relevant to an interest I have. Is there anything that you are interested in right now? Any interests that you want to explore?

Tailoring and dressmaking are a big interest right now. Literally, we have a project where we are making dresses and tailoring outfits for building models. I think there is that moment of, it's good to come at something naively and not know anything about it in order to explore—that's called beginner's mindset. But it's also really important to interface with people who are experts at that thing. Jenny and I are working on exactly that: how do we work with dressmakers and fashion designers in order to combine our expertise to create this weird hybrid between the two. That's our current branching out interest.

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