RAIC Catalyst for Change – Graeme Bristol

I recall gravitating towards architecture as a child.  I vividly remember an art project we did in grade 4.  I made a model of the UN building in New York.  Why did I do a model of a building for this art project?  And why that particular building? I drew every brick on the façade! (For this 9-year-old, all buildings in Kitchener were made of bricks so all buildings everywhere are made of bricks.  Later research adjusted that misguided observation).   

I had no idea what architecture was at that age, so I gave it little or no thought as I grew up.  It wasn’t until my last year of a BA in English and Philosophy at Western that I found myself spending a lot of time looking out the windows of classrooms thinking: “It’s out there, not in here.”  The Faustian desire for knowledge can be quite exhilarating, but ‘out there’ implied the requirement to act out in the world on that accumulating knowledge.  But how? 

In talking to my old friend in the Fine Arts program, he mentioned that he was planning to pursue an architecture degree at UBC.  The penny dropped for me.  I took it as an ideal opportunity to develop and act on some of the philosophical principles about which I was reading.  

Now that I’m at the other end of that decision/career, I remain convinced I made the right choice.  I continue to view architecture as a philosophical endeavor where we can address basic questions about how citizens can live together.  These are ethical questions, political questions, as well as utopian considerations.  There can be a better world and architects have some of the tools to make it so. 

How long have you been an RAIC member and what do you see as the value of your membership?   

I’ve been a member since 1984 when I registered with the AIBC.  I joined the RAIC because it is the one organization that represents Canadian architecture and architects to the world.  As an ardent cosmopolitan (see also Appiah, Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Stranger), the RAIC was the best vehicle to support that philosophical position and to take part in an international discussion. I saw that expressed in our involvement in the International Year of Shelter for the Homeless (IYSH, 1987), in our engagement in the Construyamos project, and other activities.  After nearly 40 years, I continue to see significant value in my RAIC membership. 

Why do you volunteer for the RAIC?  

Partly, because I see this as an opportunity to take part in such diverse discussions about architecture, planning, and related topics.  Partly, because I recognize I have an obligation to the profession and its future.  Partly, because I want to see the profession take a stronger role in those global discussions about the future of the profession. 

What do you find most challenging about working as an architect?  

I am now retired but during my years in practice, I worked for a few different firms.  First, my own small practice in Vancouver, then for the government of Papua New Guinea, and finally teaching architecture in Bangkok.  In each of those arenas, the challenges were quite distinct.  Generally, though, I see the biggest challenges to be those between developing principles and sustaining survival.  Of course, those are personal challenges as well – a trial about which Falstaff was acutely aware. 

Why is this area of advocacy important to you?  

I am currently a member of the Promoting Equity and Justice Advisory Committee.  I see this as related to the broad issues of ethics (the branch of philosophy that intrigued me since my youthful days at Western).  My advocacy here follows the same motivation that led to my involvement in: 

• the revisions to the Ethics chapter of the 3rd edition of CHOP,  
• the International Year of Shelter for the Homeless,  
• research into housing issues in Asia supported by the RAIC Burwell Coon award,  
• my research Master’s in architecture (Architecture and shelter: the roles and responsibilities of architects in meeting basic needs), 
• later pursuit of an LLM in human rights law, and  
• teaching students in Thailand working with vulnerable communities in and around Bangkok as well as in the post-tsunami recovery. 

There is a relationship between the skills we acquire as professionals and our responsibilities to our fellow citizens.  The seeds for that thinking grew from the examples of John F.C. Turner (Freedom to Build, Housing by People) and Hasan Fathy (Architecture for the Poor), both of whom were recipients of the Right Livelihood Award.  Those seeds began to sprout when, as luck would have it, the Habitat Forum came to Jericho Beach (many thanks to Al Clapp for his vision in creating the Forum!) as part of the first UN-Habitat conference in Vancouver in 1976.  My participation in that was a life-changing experience.  It was cemented by the work of Arif Hasan in Karachi.  It was also something Sam Mockbee talked about in his Rural Studio.  I loved his term, ‘The Citizen Architect.’  It speaks of that relationship, and it speaks of advocacy.  The phrase captured my attention and compelled my re-reading of Rousseau and Paine – a little of the spirit of liberté, égalité, fraternité.  Or the spirit of the barricades of the Paris Commune, or the barricades I supported in Bangkok in the Pom Mahakan community. 

What do you think will most change/shape practice over the next five years?  

I think about the changes I’ve seen since I started in architecture school back in 1974 (before computers entered our offices). While such technology will continue to shape practice, my focus has always been on ethics and professional responsibility.  Our changing political and legal environment is presenting practicing professionals with greater responsibilities and greater exposure.  In part, I see this as the need for a professional grounding in human rights (political, civil, economic, social, and cultural rights), environmental rights (including the rights OF the environment), and, in general, a rights-based approach to development. 

What role do you see the RAIC and architects playing in terms of climate action, truth and reconciliation, equity and justice, procurement reform, among other issues that matter?     

This is related to the question of what shapes practice in the near future. I see all these issues as representative of our broader responsibilities toward the protection and promotion of human rights.  The institutions of architecture – provincial, national, and international – have critical obligations to advance these fundamental issues of ethics. 

As the pivotal/national institution of architecture, the RAIC has, as I see it, an obligation towards advocacy in all these issues.  I am pleased to see that it has successfully spearheaded the establishment of the Indigenous Peoples Work Programme at the UIA. It has also been proactive in setting up several new committees bringing RAIC member volunteers together to address and advise on these issues.   

That said, there is much more to do and much of that brings us, as a profession, to political advocacy for better policies relating the built environment to equity, justice, and human rights. 

What do you like to do outside of architecture?  

Before I started architecture school, I worked my way through my first-degree playing drums in different bands.  I sold them in Copenhagen at the end of our Scandinavian tour but, though I’ve stopped playing, music remains my first love and live music when I can afford it (not likely I’ll be seeing Springsteen again, given the price of tickets for his recent tour!)  My second love is travel (great learning opportunities). A third is reading (more learning opportunities) which offers the related benefit of further browsing prospects in bookstores.  I now add to my browsing by finding birthday books for my two grandchildren. 

What advice would you have for those looking to get more involved in advocacy causes related to architecture?  

I see two questions here: 

• What would motivate a graduate or practicing architect to get involved in advocacy?

I believe that motivation begins with our understanding of our role as professionals in society, especially where the profession, as in Canada, is legislated and regulated on behalf of the citizenry.  The Architects Act implies (and sometimes states) a broad set of responsibilities to our fellow citizens.  A big part of that responsibility is found in our ability to imagine a better future, passionately describe it, and find a way to get there.  Advocacy is one of our obligations.  Addressing and defining the common good is central to that advocacy.

• How would a motivated architect get more involved?

While I have no desire to resort to advertising slogans, ‘Just do it’.  Start from wherever you are.  You already have interests/passions, and you follow them.  Where are they tested?  How do pass your passions on to your community, the next generation?

Engagement can be local or global.  Start from where you are and see where it goes.  An old friend of mine is a bit of flâneur (see here, or Walter Benjamin’s The Arcades Project).  An acute observer, he walks laneways and streets in the West End of Vancouver and sees the opportunities for small interventions which start to ripple, to make a difference.  He is now not the only one planting a vegetable garden along the narrow dirt strip in the laneways.  He tends, he harvests, and he adds yet more along this linear garden.  People start to notice.  Sometimes they harvest themselves.  I walk with him and see that something has changed for the better in his neighbourhood.  It is a small intervention, but it ripples positively.  It becomes a talking point, a conversation starter, an actual community can flower.  That is no small thing.  It is something that Chris Alexander was getting at with his ‘New Theory of Urban Design’ and I see it more recently described in David Sim’s Soft City.

In a larger arena there is the possibility of architects engaging in local politics.  There are too few examples of this.  I think of Geoffrey Massey and his influence on Vancouver, not only as an architect but as a city councillor in the 70s.  I think also of Alan Low, former mayor of Victoria BC and, more recently, Carrie Smart, councillor in Oak Bay BC.  I’m impressed with their commitment to that larger arena. There are too few of us taking on that challenge of a direct role in politics.  

How do you incorporate diversity, equity and inclusion in your work environment, the built environment, and your volunteer work? 

Having worked in several different sectors in architecture and beyond, there are varied approaches that arise as I have attempted to incorporate DEI in my work.  A great deal of my professional life was spent abroad mainly in Papua New Guinea and Thailand.  As a result, I was typically a ‘visible minority’ but with a significant difference.  I was identified as someone with special privileges and recognized as such even in my work visa.  I was a ‘foreign expert’.  I could not help but feel acutely aware of that privilege.  Further, I was always learning more than I was teaching (or applying my ‘expertise’).  That gave the lie to the term ‘foreign expert’, and it taught me a lot about my part in maintaining traditional forms of colonialism and the need to find ways to reduce its pervasive impact. 

In terms of equity and inclusion, in my work as a community organizer with the Downtown Granville Tenants’ Association, I tried to follow the advice of the renowned Chicago organizer, John McKnight: ‘everyone has gifts’.  Part of the job of an organizer is to draw those gifts out.  Beyond the broad concepts of equity and inclusion, this demands listening to people.  This was something I was most anxious to pass on to my students when I had them working in the slums and construction camps in and around Bangkok as well as in villages along the Andaman coast of Thailand after the tsunami.  Hear what people are saying.  Listen to their stories (John Forester’s The Deliberative Practitioner etched that one on my mind).  If you’re coming in with your ‘expertise’ (see Illich on Disabling Professions) to tell them what can be done, what should be done, then you are not listening to their stories.  You won’t be helping to bring their stories to life, you’ll simply be telling your own story.  Inclusion starts, I think, with the cultivation of that particularly challenging skill of listening.  It’s one of my (many) continuing struggles.