AN.ONYMOUS is a transdisciplinary design firm based in Los Angeles and New York. Founded by Iman Ansari and Marta Nowak, the studio focuses on speculative approaches towards architecture and urbanism in relation to ecology, technology and biology. Since its inception in 2012, AN.ONYMOUS has engaged in numerous international projects, encompassing a diverse range of scales from urban and architectural design to furniture and prosthetics.
For this week's Small Studio Snapshots, we talk with the duo about growing a small practice and embracing all of the obstacles along the way.
How many people are in your practice?
MN: Usually between four to six, which includes two of us, two associates, and one or two interns. We usually grow a bit in the summer with interns, and then shrink a bit during the academic year when we both teach.
Why were you originally motivated to start your own practice? How did the office start and what were the first 2 years like?
MN: Well, Iman and I met at Harvard where we were both doing our graduate studies. We did a fellowship at the UN and worked on a project together. So I would say our collaboration really started back then. Early on, we teamed up with a group of others to submit a project for a competition organized by MoMA PS1. Six hours before the submission deadline our teammates pulled out. For the first two hours, we were very upset and resigned. We had already put a lot of work on it. But then we decided to finish everything within the few hours left and submit on our own. It was really in those difficult and stressful hours before that deadline that AN.ONYMOUS came about. And when we found out later that our project was among the winners, we were really excited and that encouraged us to keep working.
IA: At the time, we were both working full-time in architectural offices. We both cared deeply about the cultural and intellectual issues as much as we did about building and practice of architecture. We both started teaching and it became difficult to balance that with our responsibilities and full-time jobs. But it also came from the desire to go beyond the conventional disciplinary structure, business-as-usual, and the rigid design practices that we were exposed to. So we began working on our own projects in our spare time, some competitions and some purely theoretical or speculative work. And then we finally reached a point where we realized it’s time to quit our jobs and fully commit to our own practice.
What hurdles have you come across?
MN: Many! I can’t think of a single job we did that didn’t come with hurdles. I think by now it’s assumed that anything that’s worth something comes with obstacles and what matters is how much you want to overcome them. From dealing with clients, collaborators, and budgets, to convincing contractors that it’s possible, it’s always that extra effort that we need to make to convince people around that the project is worth it. And at the end it usually is and everyone can admit it but the process is hard. Design, developing a concept, balancing various demands, resolving technical issues, integrating systems, fabrication, etc., are the easy ones as we are in charge of them. The hard ones are the things we have no control over.
I think by now it’s assumed that anything that’s worth something comes with obstacles and what matters is how much you want to overcome them
IA: Running a small-business comes with a lot of obstacles that not only pertain to your work and projects but also to the day-to-day operation of your practice. Those are the type of headaches that none of us are educated or trained in, and quite frankly do not want to have, but have to deal with. One of the biggest hurdles we've had to deal with early on was not getting paid for a project we did Paris, which we worked on for months. It really took a toll on us and our practice. But aside from business related issues, I genuinely believe that obstacles make for better projects. They challenge you to rethink your methods, to strategize, to innovate. And that’s really what design is all about; without problems there is nothing left to solve.
Is scaling up a goal or would you like to maintain the size of your practice? What are the benefits of staying small?
MN: Yes we would like to scale up in the future; that’s the goal. But what is more important is to continue doing the type of projects that we are really interested in doing rather than pursuing projects for sustaining a business. It’s very difficult to maintain a degree of control over the quality of work as projects and practices grow in scale. I’d rather stay small but do interesting work than scale up and just produce.
IA: I think staying small enabled us to be more engaged and involved in the decision makings of the projects, the details and the directions they take. We both worked in very large offices before starting our own practice and even in those offices, the project teams are usually four to six people. With bigger offices there are just more teams, which would make it harder for partners or principals to spend quality time on each project. So while scaling up has a lot of advantages, it also demands a lot more commitment. I think at the moment our goal to try to keep it small and manageable.
How do you find yourself splitting time between your various pursuits in the field? How does academia make its way into your work?
MN: I find it complementary. While teaching and research is incredibly important, it is in our practice where we actually apply our ideas. I think one supports the other and the practice feeds back to teaching. I really enjoy teaching technology seminars as they often deal with a small specific design problem that needs technological solutions. The seminars often are done in collaboration with an industry partner such as RedBull or BMW, so it’s an additional aspect to take into account. But at the end it all comes together: teaching, research, collaborations and projects.
IA: I agree with Marta. I think practicing architecture is only one way to produce architecture. Research, writing and teaching are just as essential as making or building things. Architecture is a reflexive practice and it relies on various methods and techniques of conceptualization and production that complement each other. To go back to your previous question, having your own office allows you to pursue other kinds of academic or intellectual projects, but it also enables you to incorporate those various pursuits and interests into your practice, as well as your professional work into your research and teaching. I cannot imagine doing one without the others. Balancing those various pursuits and responsibilities is always challenging but at the time it is also extremely rewarding.
How do you balance theory and production in your office?
IA: It’s difficult to produce anything without a clear theoretical position. I think formulating that theoretical approach towards a project is usually the most difficult part but it is a necessary step of the process. Once that theoretical framework is set, it could determine almost every aspect of the project and its development and production. The diagram has played that role in the past as a representational device that pre-inscribes that conceptual agenda into the design and production process. Some projects have a clear conceptual and diagrammatic agenda, others don’t. So I think the biggest challenge is always inscribing and incorporating that theoretical position into the process—through explorations of form and geometry, drawing and representation, text and image—and then how that agenda is translated into meaningful architectural propositions. This is probably why we spend a lot more time discussing projects than drawing or producing them.
MN: Just to add to that, we are also still evolving. I don’t think of our practice as having a set-in-stone methodology or design process. We are constantly searching and testing new ways of approaching projects. With every new project we try to challenge ourselves and try and test a new method, a new tool, or a new representational technique. It is an iterative process that we are still trying to perfect.
What is 5 / 10 / 15 years down the road?
You know, I think a practice runs a lot like an old train. It’s governed by its own inertia
IA: You know, I think a practice runs a lot like an old train. It’s governed by its own inertia. It takes a lot of horsepower to get it started and set it in motion, and once it does, there isn’t much you can do to get it move faster or slower. So while we have some degree of control over it, it runs on its pace. How far will we get in five, ten or fifteen years down the line? Only time can tell. But I think the goal is that by then we have a body of work that represents a larger project, an agenda or thesis, that would help us set the course for the remaining years. If we have that, at least we know we are moving in the right direction.
What is the Thesis of your office, your work and how has it changed?
MN: To begin with, we believe that architecture is a collective practice. It has always been so. By that, we don’t only mean the collection of individuals in an office who contribute to the development of projects or the various consultants or contractors who help realize them, but also the network of socio-cultural and technological actors who, directly or indirectly, influence the production and practice of architecture. We wanted to have a practice that acknowledges that reality, and wanted our office identity and name, AN.ONYMOUS, to reflect that. We wanted the focus to be on our work rather than it’s claim on authorship. But besides that when we started about five years ago, we had a range of interests in ecological issues surrounding architecture and urbanism. I don’t think we had a clear thesis or agenda, and in many ways, we are still trying to figure that out. But over the past few years, we have become more interested in the human-scale interventions and modes of interactions between the body and the environment. By that we do not mean the phenomenological approach to architecture; that’s certainly not what we are interested in. But we are interested in the tactile and corporeal interactions between the body and the built-environment.
IA: The human body has always been the source of inspiration or measure for architecture, and the definition of that “body” has changed significantly since the Renaissance. But those relationships, for the most part, have been symbolic or metaphorical ones. Even today, architecture struggles to directly engage with the body. On the one hand you have blank spaces that are designed as containers, expected to be filled with furniture or fixtures. On the other hand, we have a range of building technologies, systems of mechanical, electrical, plumbing, telecommunication, etc., that are tucked away and hidden within the floors and walls. We see the opportunity to bring the two together through architecture. We think these “prosthetic” bio-mechanical systems, whether they belong to the body of the individual or that of the building, are rarely a part of architectural negotiations. More often than not, architecture has assumed a passive role in challenging or rethinking the conventional assumptions about that body, especially in the wake of rapid cultural and technological developments of our time. We believe that we live in a time when it is necessary to rethink the prosthetic premises of modern architecture, and through that, re-evaluate and a redefine the body in fundamentally new ways. The technology seminar Marta and I started at UCLA, the “Prosthetic Seminar,” aims explore that through architectural projects that take the human body as their site. We’ve been exploring those ideas in our practice. In the ZERO.GRAVITY project for NASA JPL, we tried to engage the body, its weight, movements, orientation, gestures or postures with the formal and material behavior of of a mobile space. In IN.DENT, a project we recently completed, we used X-Ray imaging as a technique for revealing and representing the interior mechanical systems within the walls and ceiling of the building. And in RE.GENERATION, we focused on the material, biological or energetic aspect of the body itself by using microbial-fuel cell technology to harness energy from decomposition of the body in a cemetery. That enabled us to rethink and reconfigure not just the space and the experience of that but also the burial practices in cities, re-use of space, and even the culture and customs of commemoration. In short, we are interested in exploring new possibilities for architecture in the convergence of the two domains: technology and biology.
Anthony Morey is a Los Angeles based designer, curator, educator, and lecturer of experimental methods of art, design and architectural biases. Morey concentrates in the formulation and fostering of new modes of disciplinary engagement, public dissemination, and cultural cultivation. Morey is the ...
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