My Architect

My Architect is a great film about Nathaniel Kahn's search for himself via the legacy of his famous Architect father, Louis Kahn, dead since 1974. The film builds slowly, but perfectly, and what starts out as a seemingly lost fortysomething's identity crisis unfolds into a beautiful tale with much deeper meaning with regard to the importance of love, loss, family and perhaps more importantly, our life's work.

I had never heard of Louis Kahn prior to this film, although I was vaguely familiar with some of his work. Through the words (both good and bad) of Louis Kahn's colleagues, you get a very good sense of what Nathaniel must have felt as memories are recalled and stories retold. Sometimes it seemed as though these people were telling Nathaniel how to feel about his father. As I listened to each recollection, my own opinion of this man would range from beautiful to horrible, sometimes in the span of a moment, so you get a good feel for the rollercoaster that Nathaniel's emotions must have been riding.

The final sequence in Bangladesh totally made the film for me. The reverence of which the people of Bangladesh spoke of Louis Kahn's work tied all the loose ends together nicely for me, and, hopefully, for Nathaniel.

I think Nathaniel Kahn finally found what he was looking for.

Documentaries in which sons and daughters seek to understand a parent and, by the process, their own lives are not that uncommon. Also not uncommon are results that reflect lack of talent, a failure of introspection, an abundance of narcissism and, perhaps, an unsubtle quest for publicly-splashed revenge for countless past hurts, real and fantasized. What is unusual is a brilliant, fair and engrossing portrait of a fascinating parent and "My Architect: A Son's Journey" is that rare achievement.

Louis Kahn emigrated to this country as a child, his face irreparably and brutally scarred by an accident. He and his parents settled in Philadelphia where the talented youngster loved art and music. Soon he became enamored of buildings and decided only an architect's career would answer his creative abilities.

Kahn became an architect but as this film shows it took a long time before he attracted the attention of the leaders in his field. One architect suggests that he was a victim of the "yellow armband," that anti-Semitism that along with bias against women was long a disreputable aspect of the American profession of architecture.

When he did achieve notice, he was seen, clearly accurately, as a self-assured, workaholic prophet exclaiming unyielding demands that his vision and only his vision be realized. That inflexibility was the reason that while he drew wonderful plans for many buildings he built but a few. The interview with an aged gentleman who fired Kahn in Philadelphia because of his unacceptable dream of a transformed urban center where people left their cars on the perimeter and walked into the city is hilarious.

Kahn was a born teacher and some of the extensive archival footage here shows him with students, his voice steady but passionate, their gazes respectful and intense.

Many architects were interviewed by director, writer and project honcho Nathaniel Kahn, the architect's only son. Some are world famous - I. M. Pei, Robert A.M. Stone, Moshe Safdie, Frank Gehry and the still active nonagenarian, Philip Johnson. Their comments paint a vivid picture of this idealistic but in the end financially unsuccessful designer of buildings that blended the castles, fortresses and grand buildings of past centuries into designs for the present. Kahn's buildings are shown, among the most impressive being the Salk Research Laboratories in La Jolla, CA. To me his style has a neo-Romantic air deadened by too much blank space that repels rather than attracts human interaction.

But Kahn's son was after more than the story of his father, the architect. For many years Louis Kahn had three families: a wife with whom he had a daughter and two long-term relationships, one of which produced a daughter, the other the son. Kahn visited his son at the mother's home often but at the end of an evening mother and son would drive Kahn back to the marital home. Nathaniel clearly wanted to know about this unusual set of relationships but he doesn't appear to be scarred by what was certainly a strange affair for a little boy.

When Nathaniel was a young boy Louis Kahn died of a massive heart attack in the men's room of New York's Pennsylvania Station after returning from India where he had pitched one of his massive projects, another one that was never built. At that point his Philadelphia firm was at least $500,000 in debt and had he lived a trip to the federal bankruptcy court was probably in the offing.

Kahn left several monumental structures of which the government building in Bangladesh is clearly the biggest. A teary local architect hails Kahn for having created a building where democracy may (and hopefully will) flourish.

Fellow architect Moshe Safdie opines that there might have been something fitting in Kahn's suffering a mortal heart attack in a train station given his incessant globetrotting. I disagree: it's sadly ironic that Kahn should die in the faceless replacement for one of America's true architectural gems, the old Pennsylvania Station, wrecked to make way for a sterile replacement with no character and no continuation of civic memory.

There are a number of emotional moments filmed during the younger Kahn's journey, including with his half-sisters and his mother, but they're genuine and moving, not maudlin and staged. Historians of architecture will always study Kahn. His son found reasons to remember him as a flawed but very iconoclastic and ultimately private man.

9/10.

I saw this movie 4 times within the course of 2 weeks, and could probably have seen it 4 more times without losing interest.

To me the movie is 3 things: a story about a son's search for information about and connection with his father; the father's story, both personal and as an architect; and an homage to the father's architecture. I find the movie very rich on all accounts.

I found the son's search very moving and one I immediately connected to emotionally. The father's story is very interesting--a lot of mystery but also a lot of information, including film of the father which greatly enriches the story. And the architecture is quite wonderful and presented in a very moving way.

The movie is full of interviews, many quite wise and spiritual. A few folks present "the other side of the coin," so we get a good picture of the contradictions of Louis Kahn, his family and colleagues.

The editing and pace of the film drew me in and kept me engrossed throughout. Especially wonderful was the music.

For me this movie is like going to a concert, a museum and a spiritual event all at the same time, as well as seeing an engrossing story. A wonderful experience!

Films are a unique way of imagining, somewhere between the unreal and what we call real. It really is quite a unique thing, more than a mere medium. I have always thought of film as the outer spheres of private literature grown into public architecture.

So it pains me when we have a bad film about architecture, or rather a film which features architecture but which has no real architecture in it. I've lamented before about films which supposedly feature math or music or religion or great philosophical ideas, and end up focusing on people, usually tortured people. The mathematics or whatever is acknowledged but not revealed and the tortured souls involved might as well be sportsmen.

That's a loss. But this is a greater loss, because with some skill film CAN convey architecture, in fact the special eye of the moving camera can reveal things about space that are unavailable to a single human in that space. The next frontier in architecture IS cinematic architecture, expanded form.

Kahn was indeed the man who invented postmodern architecture. Perhaps no person working in space understood space as well as he. This is quite apart from the ability to shape and manipulate space, something he did with only ordinary skill. So in his case it is not even enough to introduce us to buildings, but we have to go into the buildings in dimensions other than the space they enclose.

There are dozens of people alive who could have spoken to the matter, to have enlightened us. What we get is search by an undernourished child, some pictures of clouds as they pass over Kahn buildings, some spewing of irrelevant platitudes by lesser architects and finally a teary testament of inspiration from a thankful Bangli.

There's no architecture here.

Kahn's notions had nothing to do with "recreating ruins" and everything with revealing order, order in utility, in forms (usually classical forms), and order in light. How wonderful would it have been for the son to discover this and convey it to us. Who gives a bleep about how he relates to his half-sisters?

Whether you know it of not, Kahn changed the way you imagine. But there's a fascinating story that was missed here. Unmarried mother number one was Anne Tyng who was more than a mere draftswoman. for several decades she was the center of distributed collaboration in revealing the post-modern form of the new brick. As a young architect, I communicated with her on this and feel sure that she was a key influence in his late education.

I have since spent quality time with the fellow who actually did much of the design work while Kahn was jetting around speaking and am convinced that the insights were both more collaborative and profound than reflected here.

This is as far from actual architecture, actual notions of where we fit, than Mel Gibson's iconography has to do with Jesus.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

The problem with this film is also its most interesting asset -- the filmmaker. The film sheds little light on Louis Kahn's character or his architectural abilities, and it says basically nothing about architecture whatsoever, so if you are looking for a film about architecture, move along.

Beyond a great number of shots of Lou's sometimes beautiful, sometimes unpleasant buildings, this film is not about architecture.

What it is about, and what it excels in portraying, is a man's search for a father he lost in his youth and with whose ghost he has not yet made peace. Nathaniel Kahn has not made himself a very likable character, and for that I suppose one must respect him. He wavers between cloying innocence and childish sullenness and smugness. I think especially of his near falling-out with his mother. He comes across as downright cruel in not allowing his mother her idealizations and delusions about Lou's intentions toward her. Watching this film, the viewer does see the damage losing a parent does to a young child. Nathaniel is stunted and boyish, and sweet in an altogether unlikeable way. The Nathaniel we are given in this movie haunted by his father and his inability to understand him or to resolve his feelings toward him.

Little Kahn does have a number of interesting interviews with the people who knew his father; it's an interesting study of how greatly people are affected by a single person, how disparate their recollections of the person are, and also, how similar they sometimes are too. Apart from a few biographical facts, this film could have been about anyone who was greatly loved and deeply complicated (i.e., about a quarter of the people most of us know). Did it need to be about Lou Kahn to succeed? No.