Redlines is a collection of interviews with editors that make today's most provocative architectural publications come to life. While architecture is traditionally concerned with buildings, materials, and scale, their importance and historical impact are recorded through words, books, and images that are often organized, published, and disseminated. Redlines seeks to understand the pedagogical and design frameworks that shape this process.

In this session, we look at Pidgin, produced and edited by graduate students at the Princeton School of Architecture. Published twice yearly, Pidgin features the written and visual work of students, scholars, artists, and writers.

Maybe you could tell us something about Pidgin’s history to set us up.

Pidgin was conceived by former Princeton SoA graduate students Marc MacQuade, Caroline O’Donnell, and Brian Tabolt in 2005 as a reaction to architectural journals of the time (and still today) that valued polished and finely packaged presentations above all critical content. The first issues of Pidgin, thus, literally published the detritus off of SoA students' desks, a dynamic spirit that the journal still holds on to thirteen years later. Pidgin continues to have an important presence at the SoA and in architectural discourse, printing submissions by students, faculty, practitioners, historians, theoreticians, and curators from Princeton and beyond.

Who runs the publication? 

Pidgin is a collaborative project that is spearheaded by a diverse team of editors—M.Arch. and Ph.D. students of the School of Architecture at Princeton University. We operate with the financial support of the School of Architecture and Dean Monica Ponce de Leon, but remain otherwise independent in the conception, production, and administration of the journal.

How often is it released? 

We aim to contribute to the architectural discourse at the school and beyond according to the academic calendar of Princeton University—this means that one issue is being released in the Fall semester and one in the Spring semester.

You have recently made changes to the format and conception of Pidgin. Could you tell us something about that?!

Pidgin is a very fluid project, and the editorial board slightly varies from issue to issue, bringing with it new editorial capacities and their very own signature style and creative explorations. Last summer, the editorial team decided to part with the now nearly pathological theming of journals in architecture, art, and design. Instead, we decided to revisit Pidgin’s original conception as an unthemed journal. The decision to move forward with a newly non-themed format has allowed the editorial team to be more actively engaged in curating and weaving interesting threads between pieces that are thematically and stylistically different.

Pidgin is a very fluid project, and the editorial board slightly varies from issue to issue, bringing with it new editorial capacities and their very own signature style and creative explorations.

What does it focus on? 

The past nine issues (14-22) had focused themes—including Flora/Fauna, Ageism, Magic, Ethics, Fiction, Architecture & Money—that explored how these topical cross-sections are interpreted and implemented within the discipline.  For the forthcoming non-themed issue no. 23, we are capturing a breadth of the contemporary moment in architecture in order to generate a critical dialogue between pieces that would not have been presented together within a themed issue. Although this approach often poses editorial challenges, we feel that the product is an improved representation of the thoughts and ideas pulsating throughout the discipline at any given time.

How are the editors organized? 

In general, Pidgin is collectively organized, which means that the team does not adhere to a hierarchical system. We are all quite dedicated to Pidgin as a non-hierarchical collaboration rather than a business-minded publication office. We meet weekly during the semester if our respective schedules permit, and each editor takes on certain administrative roles. This non-hierarchical structure has its own challenges, but it exposes editors to every facet of creating a print publication.

Is there any other medium to it but the printed object? 

Similar to the change in concept of the printed journal, we are currently implementing a few mediatic innovations to Pidgin that include a new web presence (pidgin.princeton.edu) and the extension of performances and events to further integrate Pidgin in the day-to-day work and play at the SoA. The heart of the project, however, remains and shall remain the printed, tactile object that can either be collected or used to prop up architectural models.

What is the long-term goal of the publication? 

Our ultimate long-term goal for Pidgin is its unchanging independence and support by the School of Architecture at Princeton University and that the project further integrates and thrives in the academic and creative atmosphere of the students and faculty here. Pidgin is larger than the sum of its numerous editors over the last 13 years and we hope it stays that way. An early dictum of the publication was for it to be a question and not an answer: so Pidgin aims to reflect the contemporary landscape in architecture to facilitate dialogue amongst students, faculty, and alumni from the School of Architecture and beyond. Pidgin challenges architectural discourse and critically examines the formation of new practitioners, historians, and theoreticians.

An early dictum of the publication was for it to be a question and not an answer: so Pidgin aims to reflect the contemporary landscape in architecture to facilitate dialogue amongst students, faculty, and alumni from the School of Architecture and beyond.

What has been the most interesting issue in your eyes so far? 

Every new issue is, of course, the most interesting issue for the editors at the time of its making—it has to be to achieve the best possible outcome. However, there have of course been issues more unique than others, such as the pure marble slab object that is Pidgin 5.

What weaknesses does the publication have? 

We are not sure if we would say it’s a weakness, but as a not-for-profit publication of the School of Architecture, we work on a budget to print limited copies of Pidgin that we then circulate among the student body and a select group of bookshops, institutions, and libraries. And so we have had to tackle this obstacle differently for every issue, whether it entailed printing smaller quantities to allow for special printing quality or instating page number limitations to ensure our budget remains consistent throughout the years. This also means that distribution, and thus the reaching of a wider audience, deviates from more conventional ways of dissemination—relying like its emblematic carrier pigeon on a more intimate point-to-point exchange.

What is the role of publications today? 

Publications, especially student-run publications are pedagogical and experimental tools that are supposed to fuel the transgression of boundaries, pushing limits, and carving out roles and spaces of action that should not be predefined—so we would rather not construe what the role of publications should be in the discourse of architecture.  We do, however, find considerable value in the textual and discursive products of the discipline and hope that we serve as a catalyst for such activities.    

How involved is the affiliated academic institution? 

The School of Architecture provides us with financial support for a limited number of prints each academic year. Aside from this financial support, Pidgin is an entirely student-led operation.

What is the most recent issue focused on? 

With the most recent issue no. 23, we revisit Pidgin’s history as an unthemed journal. One new and particularly exciting addition we have incorporated into the forthcoming issue is a discursive subcomponent of critical or associative commentaries by various respondents (mostly faculty and alumni of Princeton SoA) which we have paired with selected submissions. We wanted to emphasize Pidgin’s conceptual focus on the unpolished and the ongoing by situating the submissions as facilitators of further dialog. The commentaries allow for a continued examination of the selected submissions by expanding or challenging the ideas they put forth.

What might escape mere flipping through is that the publication itself has become an extension of Princeton’s pedagogical apparatus. 

Tell us something someone would not know from turning the pages of the publication itself.

What might escape mere flipping through is that the publication itself has become an extension of Princeton’s pedagogical apparatus. For most editors, Pidgin provides a unique opportunity to foster the theoretical dimension of their practice. Not only the students directly involved benefit from this, the cross-pollination of narratives and discursive problematics extend to the entire institutional complex. Another dimension somewhat indirectly reflected in the final publication are the hours and hours of conversations between the editors that precede each issue and that range from focused to tangential discussions. For us, it is as much the process as the printed volume that matters.